A Side Quest written by J-Cal.

The fires of the ruined camp were starting to die down, but the smouldering tents, carts and uninteresting provisions still cast its ominous glow against the tall trees within the heart of the forest. Discarded arms and corpses drowned the grass and heather in the rapidly cooling viscera of the vanquished. Dead mounts lay strewn upon the uneven field alongside their fallen masters, and tattered flags and standards upon broken poles left no question as to which side had been soundly defeated. The stinging smoke and the coppery taste in the air was anathema to most; to the attackers it was the finest reason to get up in the morning.

The victors’ warband had been operating in and around hhe Antler Timberland for a long time, engaging in hit-and-run attacks against enemy forces and camps without relent for months, doing as much damage in as little time as possible before scurrying away into the relative safety of the thick woodlands, hollering and hooting, letting their bloodlust run rampant.

The latest fight was but one of many victories they had enjoyed since the units’ formation, the enemy force – a supply train bound eastward – surprised so thoroughly the attackers had been able to slaughter them all without the need to make a hasty retreat back whence they came. Fortunate for them that the enemy carried so many provisions in their now sundered wagons and carts. Taking what they could carry, the fifty plus warriors would have no need to worry about food for a couple of months, and they could replace broken or dull weapons with fresh ones from the enemy’s racks.

Leaving the carnage behing, the dull glow of the embers fading behind them as they trodded deeper into the difficult-to-maneuver terrain with the only three surviving enemy females chained together trotting in their midst, the warband disappeared into the pitch black, a heavy overcast blinding even the stars to the beautiful brutality of their operation.

Harran, the leader of this grizzled group of veteran fighters that had shared nothing but a common enemy during the band’s forming, wiped a streak of blood from his chin with the back of his burly hand. He didn’t know if it was his blood or that of some fallen enemy, and he didn’t much care, for he was still far too excited over the butchery, the savage perfection that had borne his mighty warriors down upon the enemy like an avalanche burying a nest of chicks. Securing his heavy Kazdruk, twin-bladed battleaxe upon his back, he started cleaning his many daggers of blood with a dirty rag as he jovially conversed with his battle brothers on their way back to their hideaway – one of countless camps they kept before moving on to the next.

They had struck in the very instant the sun had set. Due to the clouds, the forest had been plenty gloomy already, but his warband never fought when the sun was up. As soon as the forest was shrouded in an oppressive darkness that was only partially kept at bay by the enemy campfires, they attacked, brutalizing the sentries with ease before bearing down on the camp from every directon, hacking at any foe that appeared before them so quickly there was no time to form an organized defense.

The enemy could not know for sure, of course, but they had a hunch who attacked them as soon as the attack begun, judging by the efficient brutality and swiftness that ought to have been impossible judging from the large stature of the attackers. They had heard reports of similar attacks all over the past few months, the assaults at night, the merciless slaughter, the otherworldy screaming as death was dealt to anyone and everyone, before the attackers ghosted away as silently as they had approached.

Harran snickered to himself. The warband certainly had earned its name.

Night Haunters.

It was well after midnight when Harran and his Haunters returned to their camp somewhere in the southwestern Timberland, their tents still standing where they had left them, their traps still untouched, proving that enemy scouts were as of yet still unable to track them to their source.

Clasping wrists with all of his seasoned fighters, telling them he hoped their female prisoners would get no rest this night – and being assured that they would not – Harran pushed open the flap to his own, private tent, meaning to enjoy his own slave before laying down to rest.

Entering, the space inside his tent such that he could stand up without trouble, lighting the first oil lamp next to the entrance, he found, with a smile, his precious little toy just as he had left her some twelve hours ago.

Kneeling in front of the first of the two thick poles that held the tent’s ceiling aloft, her arms stretched up over her head and shackled to the pole with thick iron manacles, her ankles likewise anchored to the pole’s base, Yra looked frightfully up at her captor, the mere sight of his huge bulk making her teeth clamp down on the whittled wood cylinder shoved into her mouth and secured around her head with rope.

Harran adored that frightful wince on her gorgeous face. He had only had her for two weeks – taken her alive after the Night Haunters had scythed down an enemy convoy a few days’ ride northeast of here – and had enjoyed her plenty, but though she was far from broken, she was so afraid of him that she did anything she was ordered to without question.

Starting to walk past her, reaching down to cup a handful of her big, shapely tit, giving the steel stud through the nipple a sharp tug and being rewarded by a sharp inhale as she forced herself not to squeal, Harran removed his weapons and armour – worn leather and chainmail that was ready to be exchanged for something newer – and walked back to stand in front of his red-skinned captive, resting his fists on his hips as he gazed into her wide, violet eyes, the pupils slit like a cat’s.

Smirking, Harran once again wondered how many other humans there were that took Kazdruk slaves for the sole purposes of fucking them. He didn’t know if he, and by extension all of the Night Haunters, were the only ones, and he didn’t rightly care. What mattered was they were great fun to plough, particularly, he had learned, young Yra.

Barely out of adolescence, Yra was petite by Kazdruk standards. Her forehead barely made it up to Harran’s nipples when they were both standing, and at just over two meters tall, Harran was considered very tall in his culture. Not only that, but his bear-like physique, all muscle and veins, made him appear thrice as large again.

Kazdruk or no, Yra was extremely beautiful to the Haunters, but as the leader’s personal slave, no-one else was allowed to lay hands on her. Her smooth, red skin was like silk to the touch, and her physique spoke of all things best about a woman’s body; large breasts, flat, toned belly, wide hips, thick thighs, and a toned but big ass that was the perfect coushin for Harran’s thighs when he ravaged her from behind. Straight, silver tresses were combed back over her head, the free hanging strands brushing just above the small of her back when she was standing straight.

Harran reached down with one hand and, with a practiced motion, undid the buckle of Yra’s gag, strings of saliva bridging it and her lips before he tossed it lazily to the side.

“Are you ready to please me, after yet another victory over your filthy invading kin?” he asked, but it was no question.

Swallowing, Yra held his gaze. She knew better than to let her eyes wander. “Yes, my lord.”

Nodding with satisfaction, Harran took a knee only long enough to undo the shackles around his little Kazdruk’s ankles. Straightening, she immediately rose higher on her knees in order to get his drooping manhood into her mouth.

He liked to make her call him “lord”, it was something he’d always dreamed to be, for he had never been more than a lowly soldier to the aristocrats ruling his homeland.

The first night was the only night she had refused him, Harran recalled with an inward smile. Being strung up all night while her entire body, but particularly her tits, inner thighs and pussy tasted his lash had taught her all about obedience. Now there was never any hesitation. She knew better.

He hardened quickly in her mouth. Once fully erect, he put his hand over her forehead and pushed back her head, pinning it against the pole her hands remained shackled to, forcing his big member further into her mouth, no longer feeling even a hint of teeth like the first couple of times.

A menacing growl from his right made Harran finally acknowledge the presence of his other slave.

Standing in an awkward position, her straight arms bound behind her with rope around her wrists and just over the elbows, more rope keeping her legs closed around the ankles and just over the knees, a length of rope from her bound wrists secured to a tent peg on the ground behind her. A final length of rope around her neck was secured to one of the poles supporting the roof of the tent. With one rope tugging her down at her wrists, and the other pulling her up by her neck, she was standing in a stressful position with her back forcibly arched back and her head forced forward lest she choke herself. Like Yra, she had remained like this since the Haunters left to do their bloody business.

“Yes, Teera? I will get to you in due course, have no worries,” Harran mocked, letting his eyes glide over the older Kazdruk’s sublime form.

Teera had been the first captive Kazdruk Harran, and the Night Haunters at all, had taken. She was a violent one, a sorceress, and had killed ten former Haunters by herself before she was subdued. That she had been taken alive was sheer luck, for she was so dangerous that close to the full force of the Night Haunters had come to cut her down before she could do more damage. In the ensuing chaos, Teera had been knocked out, and Harran had, for more symbolic reasons than anything else, taken her captive.

Teera was somewhat of a rarity, even among the despised invaders she served. She was no common magical whore, she was a lingomancer, a particularly rare breed whose only requirement for casting magic was her voice. Speaking mere words of power, requiring no catalyst nor incantation, Teera could turn a man’s brain to liquid, gushing out of his ears, or set a pair of eyes aflame as simply as she drew breath, all by speaking, as though commanding divine forces to do her bidding. It was a rare talent of summoning sounds that did not marry well with mortal hearing.

As such, there was a wide metal ring securely fastened in her mouth, the metal band strapping it around her head secured with a padlock. With the ring forcing her mouth open she could not practice her lingomancy, and with the ring forcing her mouth open, Harran could shove his cock inside whenever he pleased.

Had it not been for Yra’s reckless outburst the first time Harran had shoved her into his tent, he might never have known that Teera was, in fact, Yra’s mother. Of course, once he knew, the features they shared were all too obvious.

They had the same violet, slit eyes, but where Yra’s radiated the naïvité of youth, Teera’s emanated pure hatred. Like Yra, Teera’s body was red of skin and fit, not muscular but tight and athletic, but the mother’s tits were about has huge as her head and put Yra’s – that were in no way small themselves – to shame. Teera also had silken, silver hair, but a few shades darker than Yra, the tresses hanging down to her mid back, some locks usually hanging over her shoulders and down her breasts when she was standing upright.

Teera was fully grown, of course. She was perhaps an inch shorter than Harran – though Harran was far wider and bulkier – and commanded a presence even though she was restrained and helpless. Neither mother nor daughter sported horns or kloven feet that were all hallmarks of many Kazdruks, but their ears were pointed and their sublime female forms nearly exaggerated in their beauty, with slender tails sprouting from their lower backs.

“Relax, mother,” Harran mocked, grabbing the back of Yra’s head and forcing her to take his cock to the hilt, making her gag and her eyes water. “When I am done fucking your daughter’s face and cunt, I will be yours for the rest of the night. Just be a good pet and watch while your spawnling and I show you she knows how to please a man.”

Holding Yra like that, pushing her head against the pole, there was precious little she could do about having her throat plumbed repeatedly by Harran’s thick member. Bucking his hips, forcing it all the way inside, he took twisted pleasure in feeling his heavy balls slap against the younger Kazdruk’s chin. Her tight, young throat and mouth slathered his cock with thick saliva, heightening his pleasure, making him in no way more inclined to draw his cock out of her, even half way.

Eyes watering and threatening to roll back into her skull the way Harran violently fucked her throat, forcing his shaft all the way in until her upper lip brushed against his belly, Yra was feeling the telltale signs of passing out. Since she’d been taken by the brutish human she’d had no choice but to learn how to make her throat accept his thick manhood, but the farther down he managed to shove it without making her gag, the longer he lingered inside, cutting off Yra’s air.

More than once he’d fucked her face until she had passed out and not even noticed until he had unloaded in her, and once she’d regained consciousness she had been punished for not being awake to receive his seed, to dissuade her from doing it again.

Yra knew she was powerless to make herself stay conscious when he did what he did to her, and he knew it too, but that was the whole point. If he wanted to punish her, he would find any reason he needed.

Abruptly, Harran withdrew his cock. Thick strings of slobber connected it to Yra’s lips, who coughed and heaved for air when the obstruction was removed.

“Come on, whore, let’s have your mother join in,” he said mockingly, releasing Yra from the post she was restrained to. “I know she loves to watch her captive daughter have a human cock forced down her throat.”

“Yes, my lord,” Yra managed, not daring to not respond to him, trying not to focus on the horrible shame and humiliation the nasty human put her and her mother through.

Unlike her mother, Yra was nobody special. She had a talent for management and an eye for detail, which was why she had found it a comfortable role to be a handmaid for one of the Kazdruk royals overseeing the invasion, a woman close to Yuldasha, but whose identity Yra was not at liberty to discuss with anyone outside her workplace. Usually she resided within the Spire, but her work took her and her mistress all over the Kazdruk dominion.

Such as the fateful day when their convoy had been ambushed by the Night Haunters and Yra was taken prisoner. And reuinited with her mother in a most frightening manner.

She did not even know if her mistress had been killed, or if her bodyguards had managed to hold the terrifying human warriors at bay for long enough that she might escape.

Harran freed her from the pole, but wasted no time binding her hands behind her back with coarse rope, then followed up by attaching Yra’s slave collar around her neck, the leash still attached to the metal hoop at the front from when Harran had paraded her naked in front of his warband when taking her down to the river to clean her up before they left for their most recent raid.

Sitting on her knees, she was commanded to stay put.

Walking over to Teera, grinning at her glowering stare, Harran undid her bindings. Physically, Teera was no match for Harran, but that did not stop her from struggling when the bonds came off. She was hopelessly unable to fight him off, as well she knew, but she still tried, and he still found it very amusing. Harran often enjoyed reminding Teera that without her voice, she was nothing but a cock-sheathe.

Teera longed for him to leave one of his weapons within reach. Then they’d see how much “nothing” she really was, even without the power of her lingomancy.

Tying Teera’s hands behind her back, tightly, Harran walked the naked, permanently ring-gagged Kazdruk to the pole her daughter had spent the day restrained to. Kicking the back of her knee dropped her quickly enough, then he attached the heavy iron shackles her daughter had just worn around her ankles, each of them chained to the pole.

“Now you just sit there and enjoy the performance,” Harran sniggered, then grabbed the leash to Yra’s collar.

Locking his cold eyes with hers, revelling in her deliciously innocent, frightened look, Harran used the leash to pull her closer. “Now  show her what a good little cock-slut you are.”

She swallowed, willing herself not to look at her naked mother chained next to her. “Yes, my lord.”

Straightening a bit on her knees to get the bulbous tip of his fully erect cock into her mouth, already slick with her own saliva, Yra applied suction, letting her tongue rub against the sensitive underside.

She did what he had taught her to do. It was simpler to just obey and save herself the trouble wrought by disobedience. She prayed her mother would start doing the same, to save needless lashes, but no matter how often they were alone, no matter how much she begged, Yra could never convince her mother to just give in. She was far too proud, far too willfull. She knew her mother plotted bloody murder as soon as she got the chance, and while Yra hoped she was successful, it wouldn’t hurt to play along and save herself unnecessary punishment.

Suckling his tip, slurping and lavishing it with lips and tongue, Yra started taking it deeper, beginning with the top third of it. She’d had all of it deep inside just a moment ago, but she knew her captor wanted her to take her time, to pleasure him wholly and fully, and that meant being sensual and thorough. If he wanted to fuck her throat, he would do just that. When she was given the room to take control of her own motions, she knew he wanted her to treat his cock like it was her sole reason for existing, to pleasure and love it.

With no other choice left to her but to do as she was commanded, Yra sucked Harran like her life depended on giving him pleasure, like being force-fed his thick cum was the only thing on her mind.

When she took him a third of the way into her mouth, Harran tightened the leash, making sure she couldn’t go back. So that was his game this time.

“See this, Teera?” he mocked. “Your beautiful daughter has learned in her short time here with us. She’s becoming a perfect slave, don’t you think?”

Teera sneered up at him, not wanting to see her daughter reduced to a mere sexual plaything, see her mouth stretch around the human’s fat cock. Wet noises filled the tent, and when Yra inched her lips further down on his cock, Harran would rein in the leash. The deeper she went, it was as far up as she could go.

If she lingered too long – that measurement of time being subject to whatever mood Harran was in – he bucked his hips forward and pulled her closer with the leash, forcing her to take him deeper.

Already she had two thirds of him down her throat, water starting to flow from her eyes again as she looked up at him, knowing he wanted her to gaze at him while she had his meat inside her mouth.

He tugged on the leash, making her upper body jerk forward, her lips around the base of his throbbing cock now, feeling his balls against her chin.

He held her in place, feeling her choke and the throat constrict around him. Then he slacked the leash, letting her pull back. When she had only the tip of his cock in her mouth, he pulled brutally on the leash, forcing her down on his cock again.

Harran reached out with his free hand, grabbing a greedy handful of Teera’s huge right breast. “Let’s watch her talented whore-mouth get me off, shall we?”

Helpless but seething with anger for what her captor did to her daughter, Teera was unable not to shoot a few looks at Yra when Harran began his terrible game of forcing Yra down to the hilt with the leash, then slacking it to let her go back up for air, only to pull her back down, impaling her throat without giving Yra enough time to catch her breath.

A dozen cycles of that had Yra’s cheeks covered in tears, saliva dripping from her chin and the upper slopes of her breasts as well as Harran’s big balls. Squeezing, pushing and tugging on Teera’s tit, Harran soon passed the point of no return, Yra’s young throat too much for him to weather for long. That did not matter, of course. Harran was a virile man. He didn’t need much of a breather after climaxing before he was rearing to go once more.

Floodgates released, he thrust his hips forward and pulled on the leash, forcing Yra’s head all the way down so fast her forehead smacked against his abdomen. Keeping her still, grabbing the back of her head with his free hand, he groaned loudly with bliss as he spewed his cream straight into her belly, feeling the tight walls of her throat massage and rub his sensitive meat.

It was always a question about where to cum on or inside his slaves. He enjoyed on their faces, just to give visual aids to the fact that they belonged to him. He also loved shooting all over Teera’s massive tits, forcing Yra to give him a show of licking it all up, but right now he was helpess to pull his cock out of her spectacular throat.

Emptying his balls in her while her eyes once again rolled back into her skull, Harran didn’t let her slide back up is cock until all the radiating waves of pleasure were finished washing over him. Releasing her leash, the hand grabbing the back of her head drew her back. Thick strands of saliva and cum bridged the tip of his cock with her mouth, and she coughed and heaved violently when her breath finally returned to her.

“Thank you, my lord,” Yra eventually managed between coughs, her eyes slowly regaining focus, being quick to suck his cock clean and swallow every drop of his seed that hadn’t made it all the way down.

“See, mom?” Harran laughed, letting go of her tit to stick a thumb in her mouth, rubbing her slick tongue. “Your daughter is getting so talented at choking on my cock. You must be so proud.”

Teera scowled at him, seething. It was no question which part of Harran’s bodys he’d cut off first if she had the chance.

“But lucky you, your little girl is not done performing tonight just yet.”

He placed Yra on her knees in front of Teera, effortlessly dragging her nubile body into place. Kneeling behind the smaller Kazdruk, Harran had her stand up on her knees. With one strong hand grabbing Yra’s neck, he forced her upper body forward until their breasts were pushing against each other.

“There we go,” Harran mocked, sliding his cock inside the daughter’s tight cunt, the slobber on him providing all the lubrication that was necessary. “Now you two can rub titties while I fuck her silly.”

Grunting, feeling the pulsing shaft roughly penetrate her, raped once again, Yra was fulfilling her new role in life as the warlord’s sex slave. His member stretched her lower lips, and the violent thrusts made her lose her breath every time he slammed all the way inside her.

Embarrasment, shame and despair were the primary emotions vying for control over her. Feeling her breasts press and rub against her mother’s larger mammaries was making her cheeks burn with humiliation. It was nothing new, of course. Harran took great pleasure in depraving his slaves this way. He found it so endlessly amusing to have a mother and her daughter as his fucktoys, and he never stopped letting them know it.

Teera was not one to care much for shame, Yra knew, and if she was disturbed by what Harran forced them to do, she was doing a good job of hiding it. She never let Harran get the satisfaction of seeing her feel any sort of humiliation. Unfortunately, her eyes shooting daggers at him only entertained their captor. He knew there was nothing the two of them could do.

One hand holding Yra’s neck in an iron grip, the other squeezing one of her ass-cheeks so much it hurt her, Harran laid into Yra like his Night Haunters executing a perfectly timed ambush, his thighs smacking against her shapely backside and making the flesh ripple.

“Fuck! This tight little cunt loves gobbling on my cock!” he laughed, working up a sweat. “It is as if it has learned to expect receiving my seed, and like it can’t wait to make me shoot it all out.”

Gritting against the pain of the violent rape, tears streaming down he cheek, Yra didn’t realize she was pulling on the rope binding her hands so hard until she didn’t have the strength to do so anymore. Feeling his hardness inside her made her want to scream, but she tried denying him that satisfaction. She was powerless to let out a series of groans, however, and the friction created between her breasts and those of her mother’s increased.

Harran let go of her neck and grabbed the back of her head, yanking painfully at her silver tresses. He shoved her face in her mother’s cleavage.

“There you go, slut, suck on your mother’s titties.”

Fighting her urge to resist, knowing what little good that would do her, trying and failing to not let out a helpess sob, Yra moved her head – and she was only able to because Harran let her – and fished one of Teera’s nipples into her mouth.

A slight twitch in Teera’s eyes was the only indication Harran got that she felt her daughter’s warm mouth envelop her sensitive nipple.

Enjoying the show, delighting in showing Teera how well-trained her daughter was, Harran was soon too far gone into his own pleasures to bother with demeaning them further. Taking a step back on both his knees, grabbing Yra’s lower thighs with both hands, he yanked them back, matching the motion with his own body to keep his cock from slipping out.

Without the use of her hands to steady herself, Yra smacked her head against the soft ground, yelping in surprise when she fell forward. Quick on his knees, Harran lay down atop his little slave, mounting her properly, planting both hands next to her head for support.

Huffing and moaning, thrusting deep and hard, Harran looked up at Teera’s glaring face while he covered her daughter, banging her rough and fast, the sounds of his thighs slapping against her and her little moans filling the tent.

Yra’s tail was the only thing she managed to move much under Harran, his weight pinning her down, and his legs, the knees standing on either side of her thighs, kept her legs from flailing. Like this he was fucking her so deep and brutal she hardly managed to breathe between thrusts, feeling strings of drool between her lips and the ground while she lay there, trapped and helpless.

It didn’t take Harran long to finish, nor did he try to hold back. His large manhood in her small pussy drove him over the edge, and with a feral groan he let himself go, pouring his juices into the panting slave.

Taking a moment to compose himself, letting himself enjoy the afterglow while he took a few deep breaths, he said a single, menacing word. “Well?”

“I’m sorry, my lord. Thank you, my lord, for using me for your pleasure,” she was quick to say once she caught her breath. She could feel him still throb inside her.

“Once again,” Harran said triumphantly to Teera, staying on top of Yra. “I must thank you for breeding me such a fantastic cunt.”

Teera made no sound, but it looked as though her jaw was trying to break the metal ring holding her mouth open, drool flowing freely down her chin.

Pulling out of Yra, he turned her around by pulling on her hair with one hand, making her yelp in pain. Positioning her, she sucked his cock into his mouth without him needing to say anything, cleaning it off without hesitation. When Harran deemed her finished, he tossed her aside like a dirty rag and stood up in front of the kneeling Teera, his still rigid cock bouncing in front of her face.

“Now then, mom, maybe it is time I give you the attention you deserve.”