Exile Amongst Beasts Ch. 05

Author's Note: Though six months late, I finally finished the final chapter in this series! Thank you for all those that followed the series, it has been a journey. Thank you Neuroparenthetical for editing my story and making it ten times better. As always, I would love to hear what you think in the comments!

Disclaimer: Rape and non consent/reluctance sex are one of the themes in this series. It is also exclusively either anthro or feral furry male on a humanoid female protagonist. That said, everything written is strictly fantasy and I do not condone any sexual violence.

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It had taken several days before I was able to stop waddling and start walking properly. Surviving the Yuan-ti had only strengthened my resolve to leave the island. While I had rested and recovered, Dusk had found a middleman who knew where we could get what we needed -- two sets of soldiers' armours -- who'd arranged a trade with its owner. With those, we would infiltrate the ranks of our captors and make our escape.

"The brothers we are trading with are not to be taken lightly," Dusk warned. "They are Hog Folk, a race of pig people. More specifically, they're Boar Hog Folks, which are the largest amongst their kind. These two are known to be unpredictable and greedy, so in case they don't want to honour the deal despite the middleman's presence, I need you to stay hidden and intervene if things go sideways."

"If they are as dangerous as you said," I asked, "why even take the risk?"

"It's better than attempting to steal two sets of heavy, clinking armour from them," he answered. "Besides, middlemen are under the protection of gangs, which usually guarantees that trade goes smoothly. "

After we made all the preparations, we headed to where the trade would take place: a meadow far from prying eyes. Having arrived well before the meeting time, I surveyed our surroundings. Without too many options, I climbed onto a tree that was just close enough to give Dusk a hand if need be.

When the sun was high in the sky, a human arrived: the middleman named Byron. Shortly after that, the Boar brothers appeared with a heavy sack. They were almost seven feet tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular, wearing pieces of what must have been soldier's armours that looked too small on them. Tusks jutted out from their hairy faces, and both were covered in scars that made them look even more intimidating.

Dusk was not phased, however. He walked up to Byron and handed him a pouch of gold. The brothers did the same with their sack.

Just as Byron was about to motion for the exchange, however, the Boar with dark brown fur spoke. "Hold on." He looked at Dusk. "We changed our mind. We want that elf you were seen with as well."

Byron furrowed his brows. "The deal was already agreed upon."

The brown Boar smirked. "It was, but we changed our mind. Remember the money you owe the Marauders, Byron? We can triple your cut if you just keep your mouth shut for this deal."

"Think carefully, Byron," Dusk snarled. "Your reputation as a middleman will cease to exist, along with your gang's."

"I..." Byron stammered, then almost jumped when the other Boar -- the one with black fur -- did a flourish with his battleaxe.

"I imagine you don't want to lose a hand for your debt, do you?" the brown one asked.

Byron opened his mouth a few times, his fist closing hard on Dusk's pouch of gold. Finally, he hung his head and avoided the jaguar's fiery gaze."I'm sorry, Dusk. I'm in a lot of debt."

The dark brown Boar turned to Dusk with a triumphant smile. "So what say you, jaguar? Give us the elf and you'll have what you came for."

A breath was caught in my throat. For a moment, I wondered just how far Dusk was willing to go to escape, and how much our alliance meant to him.

"No," Dusk said, settling my nerves. "She's not up for trade."

"Then I'm afraid the trade is off," the brown one said. "And to make up for the time we wasted, we'll be taking your gold, too." He motioned for Byron to hand him the pouch and sack.

In the blink of an eye, Dusk evaporated, and my eyes only caught up when Byron yelped and stumbled back, his hands empty. Just as quickly, the brothers moved, charging towards the jaguar with their weapons raised.

Nearly falling out of the tree, I quickly notched an arrow on Dusk's bow and fired, but, novice that I was, I only grazed the brown Boar's unprotected shin. I'd been aiming for his neck. It nevertheless caught their attention, and the brothers slowed to search for the hidden attacker.

I just need to help Dusk get to the trees, I thought as I fired a few more arrows, all of which either missed or were blocked by the shield in the black Boar's hand. With the sack slung over his shoulder, Dusk was getting closer, but the weight of the armour was slowing him down significantly.

The Boars quickly determined that I was no big threat and continued to pursue Dusk. They were faster than one would assume, and as my accomplice got closer, I heard the clanking of metal.

There's no way we can get away with that. It's too loud and they're too fast. Swallowing, an idea formed. Dusk had to get away or the plan would fall apart. Fear gripped my heart at the thought of deliberately jumping into danger, but I could not think of anything better.

Shouting, I jumped off the tree. "Hey! Dimwits! You wanted me? Come and get me!"

All three running figures halted to look, and I saw the jaguar's eyes widen in surprise. In a heartbeat, he understood, and tossed the pouch of gold far to his left. Our eyes met, and he nodded, before disappearing into the dense forest. A part of me was relieved, for I saw a promise in his eyes.

The brothers shared a look and decided chasing the jaguar wasn't worth it. The brown one turned to get the pouch of gold, and the black one charged towards me.

I turned and bolted towards the trees as well. Wind tossed my short raven hair, and I urged my legs to move ever faster. So close was the shadowy forest, and yet when I was almost there, something slammed into my back and sent me flying forward.

Whatever it was knocked the wind out of me, and I struggled to get back up, but pain lanced through my spine. The heavy footsteps were getting ever closer, so I just collapsed, only half acting, and pulled out my daggers.

"Sacrificing yourself for that cat? How noble." The gruff voice was close. He picked up what he'd thrown at me and walked closer.

Clenching my jaw, I waited till a hand flipped me over, then lashed out with my daggers. Anticipating a block, I aimed low. One of the daggers hit a crude shield, which was what had hit me, but the other found the Boar's fleshy thigh.

"Bitch!" he grunted but did not reel away as I had hoped. Instead, he took a step forward, and smashed the hilt of his sword into my temple. My neck snapped, and I fell back onto the ground, black dots appearing in my vision. "You'll pay for that, wench." As the world faded, the Boar's sinister voice quickly became distant.

I was awoken by the feeling of something cold being pressed on my throbbing head. Opening my heavy eyelids, I was greeted by a wide chest in a stained tunic, and a musky scent of fur and mud -- way less pleasant than the minotaur's. Looking up, I realized it was the brown Boar, who was applying some kind of salve onto my bruised temple. The soreness on my back was already dulled.

"Good, you're awake," the brown Boar said. "Now the fun can begin."

"Wait, where am I? What are you doing?" I wanted to pull away from the questionable dark salve, but found myself retrained. Looking around, my blood turned cold. I was in a small wooden cabin; it was without windows and entirely lit by a few lanterns. The walls, as well as a table in the corner, were lined with tools that were probably used for torture. Worse yet, I was naked, sitting on a platform, and tied. My belongings laid in a pile in the corner. The restraints weren't of any standard arrangement, either. The ropes that so tightly pressed into my flesh deliberately circled my breasts, went between my legs, secured my tail up to my back, and forced my legs open by going under my knees and connecting to my arms, which were above my head.

"I'm giving you some herb salve that'll help with the pain and swelling," the brown Boar answered. "We want you to last as long as possible, of course."

"What do you want from me?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady despite my undignified state and crippling fear.

"Where your little boyfriend or his hideout is."

"Not a chance," I replied without hesitation. Dusk had saved my life, and he had been nothing but a trustworthy and capable ally since our initial kerfuffle.

"But he abandoned you -- ran away with our armour like a coward."

"He'll be back for me." Though my heart was pounding furiously, I believed it.

"Then I guess we'll just have to persuade you to be a bit more forthcoming." The brown Boar looked behind me. "What do you say, brother? Shall we start with some flogging?" The rope that bound me jerked upwards, pulling me into the air.

"Ah!" All my weight was suddenly distributed to where the ropes held my body, including the one between my legs. It bit into my delicate folds, especially my sensitive clit. The sharp pain was like lightning, but it was followed by an undeniable spark of pleasure.

The black Boar-- whom I had named Tusk, for his one broken tusk--appeared from behind and grabbed something from the wall. It was a flogger, its many tails made with leather. I'd seen monks using it on themselves as punishment for their sins. Wearing no shirt, and with the wound on his thigh covered by bloody bandages, Tusk limped back to me, raised his arm, and swung.

I could not stop the shriek from escaping my lips when I felt it land on my protruding breasts. Red lines immediately appeared, followed by searing pain. Tusk's ugly snout twisted into what looked like a smile. He delivered another swing, then another.

"That's what you get for stabbing me, wench."

Although my breasts were soon covered in web-like marks -- and although my nipples had perked up angrily -- I managed to remain silent. However, I let out a surprised whimper when I felt calloused hands on my back. They caressed it gently and slowly. Then those touches moved to the front, and I looked down to find a brown hand on my exposed mound.

"Feel free to scream, only we can hear you." The brown Boar--whom I named Scar, for a big scar that ran across his face--laughed in my ear, his breath stinking of booze.

"And give you the satisfaction?" I gritted my teeth. "No way."

"You will eventually," he said confidently. "Brother, I think our brave little captive isn't convinced. How about that nice ass this time?"

Licking his long snout, Tusk's beady eyes were wide with excitement. He spun me around and locked the swivel--which I hung on--in place. Facing Scar, my heart quickened again. Not being able to see my torturer only made the situation more terrifying.

Whoosh. Immediately, my backside burned, but while I anticipated the next swing, Scar came closer and pressed a thumb on my folds. He slid up and down, then stopped on my clit. He shifted the rope aside, and started massaging my sensitive bud, sending small shockwaves up my spine. To make matters worse, he pressed his snout onto my breast and took a swollen nipple into his mouth. My bruised skin stung in the warmth, and I shuddered.

Whoosh. I grunted at the sudden combined sensations: rough and gentle, pain and pleasure. Sucking and nipping, Scar put his other hand to use. With a thick, cloven finger, found my entrance, and forced his way in. My dry walls protested, but he just stayed there till eventually my body accepted the intrusion and produced some wetness. Then he began to explore.

"Ah, so tight." I thought I saw a wicked smile, though it was hard to tell on his disfigured face. "What kind of lover is that jaguar? Your cunt feels like a virgin's. You must be depraved."

I wanted to defend Dusk, for my ears still burned when I thought about how primal and utterly erotic our first meeting was, but I knew it wouldn't do me any good. "He's not my lover."

"Is that right? Your blushing suggests otherwise."

Whoosh. That time, I consciously felt my walls clenched down on the wriggling finger, and a fresh wave of wetness followed.

"Can you believe it, brother?" Scar asked. "She's already enjoying this! Have we gotten ourselves a harlot? I think we should try harder. This is torture, after all."

Tusk grunted in agreement. While my face burned with shame, he turned me around again. Wasting no time, he brought down the next swing on my exposed slit. That time, I cried out. Never had I felt so much pain; tears welled in my eyes instinctively. The delicate flesh was not made for that kind of abuse. Still, I didn't say a word.

Dissatisfied with my reaction, Scar swung a few more times, and amidst the overwhelming, searing pain, I faintly felt something pressing on my ass. Looking down, I saw an oval shaped, wooden thing with a pointed end, glinting with some kind of lubricant, being forced into the tight hole.

"What--what are you doing?" I asked weakly. "It's not going to fit!"

"It will," Scar said behind me. "Your holes are too tight; I'll help you loosen up a little."

Persistent and determined, he pushed, and even Tusk stopped to admire the view. Tearing pain shot up as the dark wood slowly went in--its body wider and wider towards the middle--stretching my ass taut. It felt like I would split open any second.

"No!" I cried. "It won't fit! I'll--" Before I could finish, the widest part disappeared into me, and the rest went in smoothly, leaving only its flat base outside. My whole abdomen felt stuffed, and I gasped for breath.

I guess I must thank Aztyan for abusing my ass last time, or else I would surely have bled. I thought amidst the overwhelming sensations.

Scar laughed. "There, not so hard, was it?"

My heart stopped when I saw Tusk raising the flogger again, but fortunately Scar stopped him. "I think that's enough for now. We don't want her to be a bloody mess. I think her cunt needs some stretching as well, don't you? I'll let you do the honours, brother."

Tusk's lips curled into a similar cruel smile as his brother's, and he nodded. He turned to a panel on the wall, where rods of different shapes and sizes hung. He chose a rather large one, and when he came into the light again, I swallowed.

It was made of dark wood, only slightly thinner than my forearm, and crudely carved to be covered by uneven lumps and ridges. It resembled a phallus.

"Excellent choice, brother!" Scar said enthusiastically. Then he directed his attention towards me. "I heard cats have barbed cocks, so this should be a breeze for you."

It might have felt impossible before, but after Aztyan, I was sure I could take it -- though not easily. Scar must have noticed my lack of fear, because he scoffed and smacked my bruised ass, making me whimper.

"I think she isn't impressed, brother. Fine, let's take it up a notch." Scar came in front with two small clamps, each attached to a small rock. To my horror, he clamped them onto my swollen nipples. I cried out at the sudden sharp pain of my already stinging flesh being pinched and pulled down.

"Better," Scar said, satisfied, then took a step back.

Feeling pain everywhere and bounded completely, I helplessly watched as Tusk coated the rod with the same lubricant as before. While Scar forced my lips open from behind, his brother pushed it into my swollen cunt. He was far from gentle. I groaned when my red entrance reluctantly gave away, and I felt the coarse surface raking my dry insides, my walls stretching to encompass its girth. It created a bulge on my stomach. With the big, oval-shaped plug in my ass, it made me feel even fuller than when Aztyan's two cocks had claimed me.

When it reached the end of my passage, I let out a long, shaking breath, but the ordeal was far from over. Tusk pulled the rod out quickly, then pushed it in again, that time quicker. I had to grit my teeth, but he was determined to make me scream. He quickened his pace even more while using his other hand to rub my clit. Scar started to caress me again, skillfully teasing and rubbing all my sensitive spots.

In, out, in, out... the dark wooden rod sunk into my inflamed flesh at a brutal pace. Lifeless and hard, it was entirely different from a cock, and its user was driven by the sole purpose of making me suffer. Its ridges raked on my fragile walls, and its round head repeatedly slammed into my cervix, making me sore and full. Despite my skin and my insides both being on fire, my dragon was aroused. My whimper grew louder, and a wetness soon coated the intrusion.

Scar laughed. "I think the harlot loves it, brother!"

"No! I don't!" My shaking voice was not very convincing.

"I think she's going to come just from being fucked by a fake phallus," Scar continued.

"Stop, please!" I knew he was right, and I knew if I let the heat overcome me, all the dignity I had been so carefully trying to maintain would be lost.

As if my pleading excited them, Tusk began to twist the rod as he pushed it, and Scar suddenly pulled down the rocks connected to my nipples. "Scream for us, harlot," the black-furred brother demanded.

And scream I did when my eyes rolled back in ecstasy. So much pain! So much pleasure! Aztyan, and perhaps the werewolves, had kept their promise and made sure that I was forever ruined. No longer would normal sex be enough for me, now that my body had gotten a taste of true euphoria. My dragon yearned to be used like nothing but a toy for some men's insatiable hunger, and pain had become just another kind of stimulation that thrilled her.

As the climax faded away, a wave of self-pity and self-loathing followed. Before I could indulge in it, however, Tusk slammed the rod into me and held it in--its tip pressed hard onto my cervix--bringing me yet another wave of overwhelming sensations.

"Good job, brother," I heard Scar say in the distance. A slap on my ass pulled me back to reality. "Say, judging by her behavior, I bet she has bedded many men. I think she needs some thorough cleaning."

Tusk nodded. "Aye, she certainly acts like a filthy, lustful wench."

My cheeks burned. "That's not true!"

They ignored me. Without warning, Tusk pulled out the now wet phallus, leaving my abused cunt quivering and gaping. When Scar came around, he had a bottle. With two fingers spreading my puffy lips, he aimed the mouth of the bottle at my entrance, then pushed.

"What is this?" I demanded anxiously.

"Some alcohol to cleanse your filthy cunt," Tusk answered while occupying himself with kneading my breasts.

Indeed, when the cold bottleneck slid into me without difficulty, Scar tilted the bottle, and liquid rushed into me. It was cold at first, but then my delicate walls began to burn.

"Stop!" I cried. "Take it out! It burns!"

Scar didn't stop until I felt the flaming liquid all the way up in my cervix. I whimpered, but Scar held the bottle in until the fire had died down. He knelt down to catch the mixed liquid with his mouth, sucked and drank until every last drop was gone, and I moaned quietly when a fresh wave of heat emerged. Maybe it was just in my head, but I felt woozy, like I had drunk some of the liquor as well.

Scar smacked his lips. "Delicious. Now the main course."

"Finally!" Tusk's impatient voice came from behind. The brothers worked together and adjusted my ropes so that I was hanging horizontally, facing the ground. My legs were still wide open, my calves bent back against my thighs.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, my words a bit slurred. "Why do you still want Dusk when you've got everything you wanted?"

Scar was now in front of me, undressing. "Why? We would like to get our armours back, and we enjoy taming wenches, if you haven't noticed. Any time you decide to give us what we want, we'll go easy on you."

I was too stunned by what grew from the sheath that hid his cock to answer. His cock was incredibly long and relatively thin. Its narrowest part--the tapered tip--was about half an inch wide. As it became erect, it began to twist into the shape of a corkscrew. A large, pink ball sack hung below his red cock, swinging back and forth.

Next thing I knew, Scar was slapping my face with his warm, slick cock. "Take a good look, harlot. This is what will conquer every inch of you."

Knowing what he intended, I turned my head and kept my mouth closed. Scar sneered, and instead grabbed some kind of leather device and buckled it around my head. "Brother." He looked behind me. "If you want to get started and help me open the harlot's mouth?"

"Gladly," came Tusk's gruff voice. He stood between my legs, and next thing I knew, a warm cock was being pushed into me.

It was smooth compared to the wood, and alien in the way I could feel every loop of its coiled length. My nose flared at how good it felt, but I bit my tongue so as to not open my mouth. His girth was thick, stretching me till it was deliciously painful. When his furry hip touched my mound, he'd occupied every bit of space--which was very limited, considering the plug still lodged in my ass.

He pulled away and thrusted his wide hips back in with great force, hilting himself while sending me swinging forward until my face hit Scar's furry belly. Pain exploded in my core as he was far from gentle, as well as on my bruised nipples, still burdened by the swaying rocks.

I gasped sharply, and, before I could process what was happening, Scar had forced a metal ring into my open mouth, which was connected to a leather strap he had wrapped around my head.

"You chose the hard way, harlot," he said triumphantly. Using my horns as handles, he thrusted his hips and pushed his cock--smooth and slick, but surprisingly clean, thankfully--into the ring.

"Ah!" I protested, but I was soon silenced by the intruding meat. When my face was buried in his soft belly, I could no longer breathe. I gagged when I felt him extend, and realised it was his corkscrew cock unwinding. Its incredible length snaked down my throat, and as the air in my lungs lessened, my fear grew. I was being suffocated, and I couldn't move, make a sound, or even bite down.

Black dots started appearing, and Scar finally backed away slightly, allowing me to gasp for air with a cock still on my tongue. If looks could kill, he would surely have been struck dead.

He tapped my cheek. "Your throat gives a nice massage."

"Uhn!" I protested.

Ignoring my glare, he repeated the motions, and I was once again forced to feel his cock shooting down my throat, almost reaching my stomach. I was better prepared the second time -- physically, at least. The feeling of possibly leaving this world by suffocating on a cock was no less terrifying.

In the meanwhile, Tusk has had his moment, so he grabbed my hips and began to fuck me in earnest. Driving into me with fury, he ravaged my insides like no other, always smashing into the end of my passage. His heavy balls slapped my swollen mound, creating wave after wave of pleasure and pain. Every time our hips met, the impact threatened to shatter my bones.

The brothers soon developed a rhythm: one in, the other out. Neither truly pulled out, and I was completely occupied with regulating my breath while unrelenting sensations drowned me. There was no capacity left for thinking and scheming, and I was certain that even if I could speak and give up Dusk, they would not leave me be until their sadistic desires were sated. Being so utterly powerless, I convinced myself to surrender to the inevitable long night.

When I let myself relax, the nonstop pounding became less painful, and more enjoyable. Saliva covered my chin as Scar's cock drilled in and out of my throat. Knowing that they wouldn't kill me so quickly, the fear of suffocation lessened. Not long after that, I reached a climax, and Tusk grunted when my wall convulsed around him.

"The wench just came again," he said while he stopped to rest. "She's milking me good; I almost came."

"Is that right, harlot?" Scar rasped. "If you want Boar cum so much, let me give you a taste right now."

The brown Boar pushed his swelling cock into my mouth one last time, pressing my face into his fur and filling all the space from my lips to my stomach. Then he ejaculated his hot, watery cum. Splash after splash, he filled my stomach until I felt as full as I would after a multi-course meal. All I could hear was my thundering heartbeat pounding furiously as my lungs began to burn. Hands held my head tight, and excess cum backed up and rushed out of my nostrils. I felt like I was drowning, and yet, my body exploded into another orgasm.

Seconds before I lost consciousness, the mass of meat slid out and sprayed the rest of its huge load on my face. Gasping and wheezing, I was covered in the taste and scent of musky, salty Boar cum. I wanted to vomit -- to expel the liquid backing up to my throat -- but Scar took off the ring and put a big hand over my mouth.

"Don't you dare waste a drop. Understand?"

Swallowing, I nodded. He smiled triumphantly, then took to fondling my breasts, applying just enough force to make me whimper.

Even after all that, I underestimated just how twisted the Boars were. A big hand came down on my stinging ass, making my walls clench down on the length within.

"Tighten up, wench," came Tusk's voice. "She's getting too used to us."

"I think you're right, brother," Scar answered. "Feel free to show her what we can do. I can't wait to get a taste of that cunt, too."

I stiffened. Tusk's hands on my waist tightened, and he slowed to a stop. Scar took a stool and sat down beside me. His hand traveled up and down, sometimes rubbing my sensitive bud with that strangely gentle touch of his. He wanted me to relax, I realized, and that only made me tighten up in anticipation.

He frowned. "Relax, harlot. You see, my brother is about to make his way into your womb. It will be painful, but it will get easier once you've been broken in."

With our wet hips joined tightly, I felt Tusk's cock move deep within me, twisting and extending. Then, I felt it pushing the small opening at the end of my passage, forcing its tapered head into the even smaller space. I groaned when a dull ache spread through my lower belly.

Tusk's voice was strained. "The wench is opening up quicker than I thought."

Scar laid his hand on my stomach, where his brother's cock was twisting its way into my womb. "Is that right? Has your cervix already been used by another man, harlot?"

"No!" I cried. "Stop! It hurts!" Even though the minotaur has forced his way in once, it had been after he had thoroughly tendered my muscles.

Tusk laughed and pushed some more. "Good, that's what you deserve."

Scar began massaging all the sensitive places on my body, and despite the waves of pain, my dragon knew I could take more. Realizing the inevitability, I forced myself to relax, and Tusk pushed through.

I shrieked when pain and ecstasy hit me at once, and once more when he hit the wall of my womb. A cock was in my womb, violating the most sacred part of me that was meant for giving life. My strained nerves could not handle that much stimulation, and I felt faint, which I welcomed--until a sharp pain shot up from my nipples, that was. I jolted back to reality with tearful eyes.

"No passing out on us," Scar said with a snicker. "How does it feel, brother?"

"The wench is squeezing me so hard it almost hurts," Tusk answered breathily.

"Excellent. Do hurry up. I am eager to get a taste myself."

Tusk grunted in response and began moving again, but his hips never parted with mine. He simply coiled and uncoiled his cock, keeping the tight passage open without ever sliding out. He was slow at first, but soon began to pick up the pace.

"Slow down!" I pleaded. "Slower, please! You're wrecking my womb!" Having never been violated in such a way, that part of me was extremely sensitive. The length drilled into my womb with Tusk's usual brutality, punching onto the thin walls every time. Though my lower belly remained sore and aching, the familiar heat grew stronger.

Scar absentmindedly ran his hand along his already erect cock while feeling the protrusion on my stomach created by his brother's thrusts. When I finally came again, it was excruciatingly intense. I screamed as all else--except the dancing colours--blurred in my eyes.

Feeling me wrenching his twisting girth, Tusk pushed an impossible amount of his cock into my womb, bunching up against the wall. Barely recovered from the orgasm, I gasped, but then a hand wrapped around my throat, and I looked up to see Scar's hideous smile. Tusk seemed to have swelled up even more, and next thing I knew, hot semen coated my bruised womb.

Only broken wheezing escaped from me. Vividly, I felt my arteries beating against Scar's iron grip, Tusk's fingers on my waist digging into my flesh, and the familiar sensation of my womb being stretched.

Scar leaned down and whispered in my ear. "Who knows? Maybe my brother is planting some piglets in you as we speak."

Suffocated, covered in cum, and being filled with more, my eyes rolled back as I shamelessly reached another climax. Please just let me pass out. Please. My dragon, however, simply roared in bliss.

Weightless, yet heavy with sensations, I floated in oblivion. Experienced as Scar was at torturing prey, however, I was once again denied the darkness I so longed for. The grip around my throat released, and gasping for air, I felt Tusk's softened cock slid out, along with a rush of warm liquid. I was exhausted, and all I wanted was for the night to end.

"Please, no more," I begged when Scar moved to adjust my position again.

"I'll let you off the hook if you give us what we want," he replied.

"No." I gritted my teeth. I might have been a thief, but I wouldn't betray the ones I trusted, and the ones that trusted me. "Never."

"Then get ready for another round of our very fertile cum." He grinned while working with Tusk to restore me to the position I'd woken up to. "You should be honoured, you know. Back home, females flock to our beds for our strength and fertility."

"I have no intention of bearing children right now, thanks," I spat. "Do what you will; we both know you're not going to let me go either way." I knew he didn't really want the armours that much. He only wanted an excuse to make me defy him, and get a kick out of punishing me.

"That's not what your body says." He twisted a swollen nipple--which I'd thought numb from the constant pressure up until that point--and the sharp pain that led to an involuntary clench in my cunt squeezed out a gush of white Boar cum. My body was upright again, and so cum slowly seeped out the red opening that was the evidence of their "strength." I suspected my cervix was gaping open as well. My healing was quicker than most, but recovering from brutality like that still took time.

"Brother, we know she can't help herself," Tusk said from behind me. "Can we just get started now?" Suddenly I was aware of the plug in my ass again. A hand gripped its base while another settled on my lower back to stop me from swinging. The former tugged at the ring of reluctant muscles. The plug felt impossibly big inside me.

The black Boar was not deterred, however. He started twisting and working the plug with little patience, each time pulling it out a little more. Pain rippled through me with each movement.

"Hey!" I snapped. "Would it kill you to be gentler?"

"Don't forget your place, harlot." Scar gave me a hard slap on the breasts, making me yelp. "You don't get to make any demands. In fact, your tone just earned you a few floggings."

"Wait! No!" My attention snapped back, but Scar already had the whip in his hand. Before I could say anything else, he brought it down on my breasts. "Ah! I didn't--"

The next few landed on the inside of my thighs, and the final one right on my bruised folds. I shrieked when the searing pain shot up. It also sent a mess of our mixed juices flying. Before the initial burning even lessened, a different pain exploded further back as Tusk finally yanked the plug free, and I howled.

Scar nodded. "That's more like it." My vision blurred by tears, I watched as he put away the whip, then aimed his red cock at my raw cunt.

"Getting sloppy seconds, are you?" I taunted. I even managed a weak laugh. The pain has driven out all my rational thoughts and self control. "And your brother is getting the first taste of my ass as well." Tusk's tapered tip was probing at my loosened back entrance.

Scar licked his lips. "You see, I enjoy the look on women's faces when we break them, especially the stubborn ones -- so no, I don't mind it as long as I have a good view of you."

With that, he plunged himself deep within me, as did Tusk. I moaned. Trapped between two mountains, I was completely filled. Hot and twitching, my soft flesh molded around their strange cocks, and their short, coarse fur was rough on my delicate skin. Scar submerged himself into a wet passage flooded with semen, and Tusk into a dry, warm one. When they began to move, it was in their well- rehearsed rhythm. The bruised walls that were constantly forced open and rubbed washed me with pain, and yet the feeling of being filled again and again brought me pleasure.

To my relief, Scar settled upon simply pounding my cunt, and left the deeper parts alone. He tore off the clamps on my nipples--he grinned when I screamed--and hungrily devoured my reddened breasts. I was afraid to take deep breaths, lest one of his tusks stab into me. Tusk grabbed my neck--so thin and vulnerable in his big hand--and used it as a handle to steady my swaying body.

My mouth hung open like a dying fish; every breath was hard earned. It was all too much--every part of me that was sensitive was being violated at the same time. No matter how I tried to ignore the shameful pleasure that was flooding my senses, or focus on the persistent pain of being ravaged by beasts like those Boars, the building heat eventually burst into a flame.

I'm coming between two disgusting Boars that forced themselves on me, again. My heart quaked with shame.

Because having your autonomy stripped from you and used like a fucktoy turns you on, my dragon hissed with joy.

Scar forced me to look at him, drinking in my despair. "You enjoy being used like this, don't you, harlot? Your needy little hole is sucking me in, begging me to keep pounding you."

"No, no!" I whimpered. "I'm not a harlot." It came out so quietly that it was obvious to all that I was trying to convince myself, first and foremost.

"The wench's ass is just as good," Tusk grunted. He moved his hands down onto my breasts, which were covered in slobber and teeth marks. He squeezed and kneaded, ignoring my broken protest.

"I can imagine. I can feel you inside." Scar smiled and reached for my horns so he could force me to look down. Down past the black hands torturing my breasts--they only had three thick, cloven fingers and a thumb--past my distended belly still filled with the warmness, between my wide-open legs, was a corkscrew-shaped member, red and covered in cum, drilling in and out of a similarly coloured cunt, tinted and tainted by abuse. Every time he would bring out a gush of the mixed juices before smacking his wet hips into mine again. "Look how well you're taking me. Look what a mess your cunt is."

"I'm not--" I protested again. "This is not who I am."

"Yes," he growled back. "A harlot -- a wench -- is what you are."

"No, no, no," I repeated, transfixed by the ugliness and the beauty of what I was seeing.

Tusk pinched and twisted my nipples. "Stop lying to yourself, wench."

Almost like an instinct, I came. Fireworks exploded before my eyes, and I let out a drawn-out moan.

"Do you like our cocks, harlot?" a voice asked, though he sounded far away. Suddenly, the fullness was gone. My insides quivered pathetically at the emptiness, and the fire died out before it could run its course.

"I--Yes--" I said breathlessly, all rational thoughts drained and floated away. The smell of Boar, semen, and booze filled the little shack, but I found it intoxicating. Focusing on Scar's hideous face, I realized that I wanted to feel all of it again.

"Do you want more?" he asked.

After only a second of hesitation, my dragon spoke for me. "Yes!" He cocked his head, and I searched my mind to find the answer they were waiting for. "I'm a lustful harlot and I want more of your big Boar cocks inside me." My voice trembled at the indignation I felt at myself -- and yet, something I still insisted was not actually me.

In an instant, I was stretched taut around their births again. The length in my cunt pushed all the way into my womb that time, and immediately brought back the heat that had been denied. My muscles clenched and my toes curled; the heat surged into an orgasm.

They've done it, I thought. They've conquered every part of me. They have my submission...

... for now, at least.

After that, I emptied my mind, and gave in to the endless sensations. Whatever they wanted to hear, I said without shame. Whatever they said, I agreed without thinking. Every time I started to go limp, Scar would wake me up with a slap or a pinch somewhere sensitive, and my body would diligently tighten around their cocks once more. I was demanded to be present -- to witness my own pitiful behavior.

An eternity later, they finally reached their limit. Scar was panting. "What do you say, brother? Should we fill her up?"

"Yeah," Tusk grunted. "The wench is weak. I think she'll just fall apart if we keep going."

"She is, but we'll get her trained soon enough." Scar pinched my swollen clit, and I let out a hoarse moan. "Beg for it, harlot."

"Please cum inside me," I answered out of instinct. "I want your Boar seeds deep inside me."

"As you wish," he growled, and buried himself with a forceful thrust, claiming my bruised womb. Tusk did the same, pushing the walls of my raw intestines so his long cock would reach as deep into them as possible. The two pulsing members pushed against each other from different sides, drowning me in incredible pain and pleasure.

I threw my head back and let out a silent scream when they began to coat my insides with hot cum, and my body exploded in yet another orgasm. The searing liquid almost burned, and there was so much of it that my belly once again became round. My womb painfully swelled, as little could escape through our joined hips, and the cum in my ass threatened to push back up the massive load I had swallowed earlier.

I shook my head and cried out. "It's too much! I'll burst!" It fell on deaf ears.

I'll just add piglets onto my list of possible offspring, I thought with a detached mind, but then another thought emerged. The way they abused my womb, even if I was with child, it wouldn't have survived it. What if I'll never be able to bear children again?

"Shut up and take it all," Tusk growled, and wrapped a hand around my throat, so I obeyed. The fear, anger, and hatred I felt for them and myself rushed back all at once, and my whimpers turned into a silent sob.

When the hardness inside finally softened and pulled out, I had calmed down as well, and I let out a sigh of relief. It's finally over. Escape plan, revenge -- they can both wait until after I get some sleep.

"One last thing," Scar said, and my throat tightened. "Look at your useless holes just wasting the cum we gave you. This won't do."

"What?" I looked down and found my raw and swollen cunt--almost bleeding, as the delicate skin was never made to withstand that kind of abuse--gaping open, even worse than before, and white semen was streaming out onto the ground. A similar stream was coming out of my ass.

Tusk handed Scar some kind of metal device, and I swallowed. It had two wooden plugs attached in the middle. One plug was similar to the one they had used to stretch out my ass, just slightly smaller, and the other looked like an elongated version of the first.

"No, please," I said. "I can't take any more of that."

Scar shook his head. "How else will you hold in the seeds we planted in you? It was hard work putting them in. Why, are you afraid they'll take? Like I said, you should be honoured if they do."

"And pregnant women are something else," Tusk added with a twisted smile. "I've only fucked one, but it was unforgettable."

"Yes, and there's that," Scar agreed.

Despite my begging, he and Tusk worked together to push the devices in. They both went in rather easily, given the abundance of foul natural lubricant -- mostly, but not exclusively, theirs -- and how utterly tenderized my muscles were. The plug for my cunt was long, and its skinny tip pushed uncomfortably into my bruised and open cervix, instantly plugging in all the warmness that was still sloshing around in my womb. They then closed the device around my waist and locked it.

Scar waved the keys in front of my face before putting it in his trouser pocket. "Unless you want others to see you like this and live the rest of your life with plugs in you, I suggest you don't attempt to run away."

Tusk grabbed a straw mattress, and they lowered me onto it with my hands and legs still tied. With my legs finally closed, I could feel the plugs rubbing on my extremely sensitive walls with every small movement. I had to lay flat on my back, accommodating my bloated belly like a pregnant woman. They then left without blowing out the lamps. I let out a long breath.

I have survived the night, I thought with relief and closed my eyes, letting myself sink into a long-awaited sleep.

I was woken up by the feeling of my breasts being squeezed. "Get up, you filthy wench." I opened my eyes and was greeted by Tusk's ugly face. Sunlight from the open door filled the small cabin. My head was groggy, and where I'd gotten hit on the temple throbbed. The fullness in my belly and the feeling of constantly being stretched reminded me of my hopeless situation, and everything ached from the abuse of the previous night, which included -- though almost as an afterthought -- the uncomfortable sleeping arrangement.

"I can't, if you haven't noticed." I tried and winced at the dull ache in my abdomen. If I had been at my full strength, I could have gotten up with both my wrists and legs bound, but not then.

"You elven--or whatever you are--women are weak," Tusk mumbled, and untied my legs. "Our sows would be up and doing chores by now." He grabbed a metal bar and hooked its shackles on my ankles. That granted me more mobility, but I could not close my legs.

I was too busy stifling the groans from my rusty joints and aching muscles to rebuke him, but at last I was standing with shaking legs. Tusk unlocked the metal device, and not-so-gently pulled it out, causing me to whimper and grab the hanging chain for support. A flood of semen rushed out from my worn-out holes, which was promptly collected by a bucket the Boar had placed down. Impatient as he was, he decided to press on my round belly to quicken the process, and I almost collapsed when the aggressive torrent forced my sore cervix open and flowed through all my still-raw walls.

"Stop!" I whimpered. "Please! Just let me do it myself."

Tusk frowned, but he was clearly not a fan of that chore to begin with, so he grunted and gave me a bucket of water and a questionable cloth. He watched as I wiped away the dried cum from all over my bruised skin, and the mess that was between my legs. When I finished, Tusk tied me back up, gave me a piece of bread and some water, and left without a word.

Sitting in the dimly lit shack, gobbling down the dry bread, I contemplated my options and came up with a few ideas. All of them required waiting for an opportunity, obviously. When night fell, the Boars came back, and thus a new round of brutal torture and fucking began.

I was barely aware of time passing. I was constantly either in pain or drowning in ecstasy. Time really could snuff out anything; less and less I thought of Dusk and escaping, and more and more I found myself shouting obscene words and acting like the harlot I agreed I was. Sometimes they would come alone, and sometimes together. They made sure all my holes were filled with their cum at all times. On the fourth day (I think), however, they slipped up, and what was left of my conviction flared up like a wildfire that had found a new patch of forest.

They'd been careful for the first few days about leaving things in the cabin, but since I was more and more docile, they became careless and left a bottle of booze on the table. Heart pounding, I shuffled to the pile of clothes they'd never bothered to take away, and found a few pieces of cloth in my pockets.

Before we'd gone to the trade, I had studied the instructions on the bottles of poison I had stolen from Aztyan. Some of them were in liquid form, and would remain effective even when dried, though they would need to be dissolved into water again to be used. Those, I had poured the contents onto pieces of cloth and disposed of the noisy and obviously sinister bottles. Picking out the few I remembered had had a skeleton symbol on the label, I submerged them into the bottle of liquor and watched them sizzle. When all was done, the liquor smelled and looked the same as before.

When I heard someone moving about outside, I called out, and in came Tusk. My heart leapt in joy, for he was more gullible than his brother. I expressed my will to be used by him alone, which he gladly accepted. He didn't even tie me up, which was always more of his brother's thing. I was too nervous to enjoy the act, but I still played my part. Before long, I finally got to watch him take a swig of what would be his last drink. Promptly, he grabbed his throat in shock and collapsed backwards, his still-hard cock sliding out of my bruised cunt. He wheezed and desperately tried to crawl out of the door, but collapsed before he made it far.

Breathing out a long breath and calming my pounding heart, I shuffled to his side and found the keys to my shackles. "Who's the weak one now, arrogant pig?" After putting on my clothes, covering my bruised and battered body, and giving his lifeless body one last kick, I slipped out into the night.

My muscles were sore and weak from days of abuse -- which had served in no way as a substitute for beneficial exercise -- but the taste of freedom gave me a renewed strength. I thought about just walking away, but the fury of vengeance got the better of me. Just one look, I told myself, and I'll walk away if it's too dangerous.

To my utmost delight, I heard Scar snoring in the house. I slipped in like a ghost, and when I found the brown Boar's sleeping form, I identified his throat in the moonlight and sliced it open with my dagger. Startling awake, feeling his life rushing out and seeing my triumphant smile, he jumped up and reached for his weapon, but I had made sure to cut deep. I simply took a few steps back and watched as he fell forward, his eyes still wide with shock.

After making sure he was no longer breathing, I collapsed as well. I was so very tired and hungry. After resting for a while, I forced my broken body up, found some bread and cheese, and inhaled them. Then I found Tusk's bed and fell into it. Despite it stinking of Boar, I fell fast asleep.

In the deep, dreamless darkness, I faintly heard a voice. "Zephyr." Someone was calling my name, and a hand was on my shoulder. Startling awake, I grabbed my daggers; some of my strength had returned. It was still dark outside. Did I slept through the whole day?

"Wait!" The man's voice said. "Calm down! It's me, Dusk."

I squinted at the figure in the dark and identified the jaguar's spotted fur. Tears immediately welled in my eyes, and I cried out his name, though it was more an animalistic whine of joy.

He came closer, knelt down, and put a paw on my hand. I flinched, and he froze, but when I relaxed and let go of my daggers, he opened his arms and pulled me into a tight embrace.

"I'm so sorry it took me this long to find you," he whispered.

Basking in his familiar scent, I let my tears spill out. "Can we leave now?" I asked with a shaking voice when I could speak again.

His warmth seeped into me. "Yes, yes. The trade is in a few days. We can make it."

And we did. The plan worked, and when the cavalry arrived after a distress beacon had been activated, they saw a group of confused criminals investigating their fellow soldier's bodies. Just like that, a small-scale battle erupted, and we seamlessly blended in with our hard-earned armours.

Taking down the three soldiers in such a short time was not easy, and both Dusk and I suffered some injuries. We played into it, pretending to be gravely wounded. I cried in pain, hands covering a wound that was not as bad as it looked. To make sure it was believable, I even let it bleed a bit more before applying pressure. Deer blood was the original idea, but a shallow wound was more authentic. I looked over to Dusk and found him groaning over a slash on the leg.

I could scarcely believe it when we were being carried into the portal on griffin backs. After a moment of disorientation that made my stomach churn, I found myself in the stone stronghold on the other side. My hands trembled. So close. We're halfway to our freedom.

The stronghold was buzzing with soldiers. We were left at the infirmary with two other wounded. When the medic went into Dusk's curtained cubicle, it was Dusk that walked out, with a bandaged leg. The two others seemed oblivious, wholly occupied by their pain. Seeing an affirmative nod, I got up as well.

"Hey, where are you going?" Someone asked, and I turned around to find the wounded man by the door sitting up.

I came up with a lie quickly, out of habit. "A friend of ours was also hurt, but he isn't here. We're worried."

The man nodded and lay back down. "That's not good, I hope you find him."

Dusk gave me an approving look, though it was hard to see under the closed helmet. Taking advantage of the chaos, we somehow found the stables, grabbed two horses, and rode out the gates, one after another. Dusk had "urgent dispatch," and I was "on my way to notify David's family that he's not going to live long, and he wanted to see his wife one last time."

We didn't stop riding until we were hours away from the stronghold, deep into a forest. Stumbling down the horse, I laughed, which quickly turned into a sob.

"We did it," I choked. All the pain and suffering had paid off. "We're free."

"Yes, we did." Dusk knelt beside me and put a paw on my shoulder. I looked up to find him with an uncharacteristically wide smile. "We're free."

Freedom tasted even sweeter than we thought. No bounty was ever placed on our heads, as they couldn't figure out who had escaped. I made sure that no child ever came of my days on the island. We didn't stop running until we were in strange lands where no one knew us, and started our life anew.

Dusk and I remained partners in crime, and sometimes, partners in bed. Rough play was his norm, but it was well matched by my own enjoyment of such. We worked well together.

Days flew by, and on a particularly sunny day, Dusk confessed to feelings for me--in an extremely awkward manner--and I simply said: "I know. I would like to spend the rest of my life with you, too."

That was the second time I've seen him smile with so much joy, and after that, many times more. Though what happened on the island still plagued my dreams, there was always a gentle jaguar ready to comfort me. We retired when we got enough money, and we bought a small farm together. I was never able to conceive, even though we tried. Having grown up as an orphan, however, I knew exactly where we could find children who yearned for a home. Thus, we became a family of four, and life only got better and better from there.

The End.