Avalon in Flames

But the woman's torment was not at an end.

A new tree branch flowed from the boughs and quickly caught fire. It's shape morphed as it drew closer to the wife. Molten and thick, it elongated, the tip sweeping into the form of a phallus. The woman tried to pull back from its approach, but the branches held and the phallus cooled, the color of obsidian compounded with hellfire reds.

The woman shook fearfully; her milky fair and heavy breasts bounced to her shakes. The veiny phallus throbbed and engorged more with every inch it drew closer to her ripe form. Hot drizzle emanated from the tip, glazing the woman's plump tits in a clear, sticky substance. The stuff ran down her soft belly, making her twitch with excitement.

"Fear no more mortal," moaned Levina, "and be made glorious!"

"Noo-" the woman's protest was cut off as the phallus forced through her lips. Her fingers and toes curled. Her body tensed and thick ass cheeks tensed to her oral violation. All the while, crystalline webs woven out of thin air, wrapped around her feet.

As strong as steel and soft as satin, they moved up her jerking legs with a courtesan's touch, gentle and sensuous. Once the cocoon material made its way up to her sensitive belly, the woman bucked wildly, moaning huskily while the demonic phallus plowed her mouth, over and over. Rivers of drool ran from her lips and down to her large tits, still jiggling to her struggle.

Once it had covered her ample bosom, the crystalline weave met around her face from both sides, as in a pincer movement. Her moans by then had become soft and resigned, her eyes glazed over as the infernal tool worked her mouth endlessly.

Only her face remained uncovered, her head drawn up to allow for full penetration. Underneath the phallus's shaft pulsed vivid, fiery light. The woman stiffened, gasping as her thick invader throbbed, spurting the molten stuff deep into her being. Her moans flared with new panic and arousal as corruption incarnate flowed through her soul.

Her great and large breasts strained against the cocoon, her belly glowing dimly in tones of hellish orange. A tide of inescapable change swept across her flesh, her innocent soul aflame in molten malice and carnal cruelty. Glowing strands of the evil essence overflowed from her clenching pussy, streaming around her milky thighs and buttocks.

All the while, her moans adopted a harsher, more lustful edge, her skin darkening ever so subtly.

The same scene played out among all the trees, though the women that had been cocooned the longest wore smiles instead of frowns, their eyes like fires captured in gems. And just within the baker's wife eyes, the barest beginnings of demonic flame began to shine through...

Morvith looked upon her from below. "Tell me again, Levina. Why do we bother with this when I could have an Orc make her mine in half the time?"

Levina wrapped herself around his side, pressing her massive and succulent copper breasts into his back. She licked his neck and drew her finger down his neck. "Because my lord," she said not without a certain amount of agitation, "the Avalon folk have the blood of great witches, from highest duchess to lowest... baker's wife. And you need those with magic."

Morvith reached behind and palmed the firm and plump globes of Levina's silken buttocks. He grinned while the briefest flash of indignation swept across the sorceress's eyes. "I have all the magic I need right here..."

A great explosion boomed in the distance, followed by flashes of violet light. Morvith broke out of his groping revelry and walked up the slope for a better look. Impossible. An ivory tower of Avalon crumbled in half. Swathes of fog evaporated, affording Morvith his first good look at the many-domed city and its sky piercing towers, each a different color, red bricked, blue bricked and gold bricked.

It also afforded him a look at the Black Moon banners that now fluttered over his own, upon piles and fields of green corpses. "How is this even..." He saw Melehan hewing his blade to and fro, taking heads from Orc and noble Avalon warrior alike. He saw the woman who was once the key to his ambitions, Lady Sybilla, humping down the overproud Duchess Camille, who first spat in his face when he demanded Avalon's surrender.

The spidery Sybilla had the Duchess on her knees, fondling her breasts while her arachnid abdomen shuddered, pumping all manner of evil into the woman's womb. The duchess for her part, was overwhelmed, enchanted garments torn, eyes rolled back, her tongue lolling from her mouth, paralyzed in pleasure as each vile egg took root in her belly.

And from the very front, stood a barbarian woman atop a pile of bodies, forcing an Avalon witch's head between her legs, the poor woman twitching to the ecstasy of corruption. The she-barbarian's eyes blazed like stormy amethysts, her blade pulsed with purple shadows. The white streaks in her shady blonde hair crackled with sorcerous luminosity, her gigantic breasts straining the limits of her chainmail garb yet never breaking it.

And when her gaze met Morvith's, he knew.

She's back...

"Levina, darling... we're going to need a lot more sorceresses..."

Levina laughed, the sound was both mellifluous and harsh. "Oh great king... for her, you need only me!"

***

Melehan laughed with each swing of the sword, each gleeful chortle accompanying the fall of his blade and the rise of Orcish heads, leaping off from thick green necks in riotous spews of red.

Braya gasped, her carved thighs shaking with sensual satisfaction as a knight of Avalon fell away from her loins, gurgling and twitching in dark pleasure. "This is evil..." she moaned, watching vile violet light spark into the fallen man's eyes. "Give them a clean death... not this curse."

A fresh band of Orcs scrambled out of the thick smoke, charging at the lone she-barbarian from her flank. Eat your heart out, my pet. Work that honor out of your veins. I imagine there's scarcely any left after all that we've done!

Morgana ceded control to her shell once more, and Braya's eyes dimmed to their ocean blue hue. "At the end of this, witch... I show you how an honorable warrior dies." Not while I'm in here. Braya stood naked before the Orc pack, fleshy ass cheeks jutting out while her feminine globes taunted the warriors. Ample and smooth, they sat like teardrops of ivory upon her chest.

Sorcery had marked her well.

But ever corruption roiled beneath the surface, her fierce dark ringed eyes giving the Orc warriors pause, the writhing black veins along her forearms inspiring fear.

She launched forward, sword swinging, wailing her torment upon the Orcs. Her already impressive strength bolstered by magic's touch, the greenskins were stumps in seconds. Only one managed to touch her, and even that, it was a lustful grope across her bouncy tits.

Braya took his head lest the dullard enjoy one more moment of pleasure, her one more moment of indignity. Let's keep Orc touching to a minimum shall we? Rut all you like with farm animals after I'm gone. "It is only honor that keeps me from doing so." Mind your place. It is not honor, but me, that keeps you to your course. "I would rather be cursed simple than be cursed by you."

Be careful for what you wish for...

Avalon's mighty pearl gates swung open, this time with a cohort of fresh troops and the king and queen behind in a crystalline chariot. The king was of noble bearing, shouting to his men, emphasizing his words with shakes from his mace. The queen stood by his side, silent and stern, yet clad in the scant regalia that marked her passion as sorcery rather than anything more provincial.

Her sky blue chiffon fluttered in the battlefield winds as much as her raven locks, clinging to her bosom as to highlight her thin but chesty physique. The cloth was tailored such that her dress had a 'window' below her neck, fringed with diamonds, the opening glittered while the round slopes of her luscious breasts rose and fell.

Given her harsh expression, it seemed more likely that the jovial king attired her in such a manner, her eyes just as cold and perfect as the diamonds that shined below her neck.

That king will be mine! "The queen will be a problem..." said Braya, her shadowed gaze meeting the queen's rigid glare across the flag and corpse strewn field.

"Not if I can help it." said another. Braya shuddered. The skittering clicks and clacks of arachnid legs over cobbled stone disgusted the barbarian to no end. Lady Sybilla drew up to her side, her dewy eyes wide and large with satiation.

Braya saw a fair many knights on the ground behind, crumpled and sucked dry of life. The women of Avalon writhed where they lay, their bellies filled while their fingers curled to their anguished ecstasy. Some had already stopped struggling with the malevolent influence Sybilla had planted in their wombs, their slack, drooling faces and blank violet eyes evidences of lustful surrender.

"I'll take her, and you the king." Sybilla looked down to Braya, her long and lustrous coppery locks running over the pert slopes of her breasts. "It will be like old times." She grinned, revealing spider fangs.

"Old times..." repeated Braya, full of yearning for the days that seemed ages in the past. You wistful little slut, this is not the time for remembrance! At once the barbarian's eyes blazed violet, her supple lips curling into a jagged smile. "Of course, Sybilla! The queen seems to be icy and chaste, relieve her of her burden!"

The spider woman's face brightened at the voice of the depraved sorceress. Braya parted the lines of troops between them and the royal duo with a gesture of her hands, Morgana's sorcery flowing through her flesh more than ever.

The two women made for the crystal chariot with lightning speed.

Braya tackled the king off the chariot while Sybilla spewed lines of silk from her spinneret, ensnaring the bosomy queen in her sticky embrace. "Foul barbarian witch!" cried the king, one hand trying to keep her back, the other reaching for his mace.

Braya smiled, her violet eyes shining with desire. "Oh you got that right." She summoned rings of molten light around the man's wrists while stripping off the plate and leather around his groin. "And you even have something for me..." she eyed his manhood and watched it swell, his own eyes transfixed on the porcelain mounds of her giant tits. "Something befitting a king no less!"

The queen struggled in Sybilla's lewd embrace, her spells of white fire and black ice cutting through the webbing only to be stuck again. Her fine featured face struggled in between the spider woman's mammoth globes, near overwhelmed by their softness, she fought for breath, all the while screaming "Do not give into that whore, Gelbrecht!"

"I won't..." said the king, his hands slowly inching their way up Braya's carved thighs and twisting midsection. Her gasps of delight drove him on, little whispers in the back of his head of carnal temptation.

"Gelbrecht! CONTROL YOURSELF!"

Braya smiled and moved his hands up into her opulent and abundant tits, letting them wallow in her softness. "My my, I know a pawn when I see one..." she looked to the queen and smiled "and I must say... it's found a better queen!"

"You vile whore!" wailed the queen.

Braya palmed the king's member, rosy flashes of light passed from her palm and into his thickness, swelling it further with arousal. "Sybilla! I grow weary of her chatter!" Braya lifted her soft hips above King Gelbrecht, her glistening pink slit quivering with anticipation. "Make her moan for me!" She sunk down on the royal's shaft, gasping with delight as her inner muscles grabbed onto his fleshy hardness with an all consuming hunger.

"Yes, mistress!" said Sybilla, taking the struggling queen to the ground.

King Gelbrecht choked with joy, his hips bouncing off the ground to be even further in the vile woman's silken grip. Her pussy massaged his cock, undulating down its length, twisting such pleasure from him that it could have only come from centuries of experience. His hands, now bereft of gauntlets, were free to indulge in the soft and full charms that careened atop Braya's chest.

The King was overwhelmed, staggered by the soft globes bouncing against his hands, their copious and supple flesh flowing through his fingers with each hump against cock. His mouth left open in awe, Braya leaned forward, pressing her creamy tits into his lips.

Braya moaned madly as his tongue worked her nipples. She writhed atop him and pulled his body closer. The ripe mounds of her tits swelled larger against his face, smothering his royal countenance in her cool, satin smooth flesh.

Never had evil felt so divine.

His palms filled up with jiggling handfuls of her ivory ass cheeks, relishing their firm and plush feel more than he thought possible. Even strands of her gleaming hair, swiping across the top of his head like airy silk, sent tingles across his body. Never before had he been with a woman who was such a feast for the senses, her beauty and sorcerous perfumes reducing the dignified warrior king to a lustful. twitching puddle of masculinity.

Inwardly, Braya wailed with fury, but Morgana was too much in control when her desires ran hot, and so the she-barbarian only smiled, grinding atop the man's cock with serpentine smoothness. Her wide hips swiveled and rolled with a dancer's grace, while her love canal clenched around his cock without mercy, goading him onto higher pleasure with the slow but muscular undulations of her inner walls.

King Gelbrecht jerked underneath her, his mouth not only filled with one of her massive breasts, but also the corrupting nectar that issued forth. His tongue and throat scalded, all that remained was acceptance of the numbing warmth that flowed without end, the feeling that his cock was being sucked tighter and tighter, his pleasure more and more prolonged.

Steam rose from his mouth and a slight dew developed on Braya's copious cleavage, the demon pendant stuffed in between her soft flesh burning with fiery purple eyes, drenched in the foul black sex magic of Morgana's soul.

She arched her back, biting her lips. Her pussy squelched with each of the king's frenzied thrusts, the man no longer in control of his body as evil and carnal longing robbed him of his senses. His ruddy cheeks, once holding the vigor of life, now paled. Black veins reached along his muscular neck, spreading like cracks in granite.

"Just take his soul!" cried Braya, her hoarse voice cracked with pleasure. And kill him? Why should Death have all the fun? Gelbrecht croaked with maddened desire, lips scalded and eyes bloodshot, his shaking hands reaching for Braya's plentiful breasts. Have you seen my son's horse? Quite clever. I should like something similar for myself... but more becoming of the goddess I am, obviously.

"Oh no..." said the barbarian, her hands alight with coruscating violet light. Oh yes! Gelbrecht grew more and more stiff, his teeth clenched while he pawed Braya's round tits over and over, her pale flesh flowing through his fingers and then returning to instant firmness. His cock throbbed, at the total mercy of her languid manipulations, so slow yet so powerful.

"Darkness take you, slave!" said Braya, her eyes luminous like fiery amethysts. Gelbrecht lurched up like a catapult, burying his face in her cleavage as his momentous orgasm wracked his body, Morgana's sorcery tearing out his soul. His cock trembled, spewing ropes upon ropes of his seed and life force without end, like a broken dam...

As the king met his destiny, the queen fought against hers. Queen Emora laid on the ground, nearly spent, her struggles faint. Lady Sybilla sighed with a predator's anticipation, relieved their fight was at an end. "I was once like you, fairest queen... beautiful, dangerous... imperious."

Emora flopped upon the ground, trapped in the Spider Queen's webbing. Her whimpers grew louder and more furious as Sybilla drew near, her heavy and tanned globes swinging just above her face. Tundra blue eyes widened to the sight of the spider woman's abdomen. The creature's ovipositor quivered and leaked its arousal, near overcome being so near a worthy host for its vile eggs. Emora's hips bucked wildly, trying to roll away from the instrument of her doom.

It did no good.

Sybilla chuckled and held her still. "But then I learned... the peace of surrender..." Her ovipositor pierced the webbing and slid up between her long and soft legs. "Even in desolation, the Black Moon reaps your people of life and innocence." Purple light throbbed in Sybilla's abdomen. A satisfied moan rushed from her lips as her ovipositor lodged itself within Emora's womanhood. "What hope did I have, but to succumb? What hope do you have?"

Emora gasped when she saw Sybilla's first egg, brimming with malevolent life, squeeze down the ovipositor. Sybilla's face flushed, biting her lips as she pumped her spawn ever lower, ever closer to its waiting host.

"Just... give in..." she moaned.

As inevitable as her fate seemed, Emora would not 'give in'. She was no Sybilla. She tilted her head and got a better look of the battleground. Bands of Avalon knights, Orcs and Black Moon forces fought in scattered groups. She saw Braya astride her king, luminous and terrifying, like some war goddess, huge tits bouncing to the salacious coupling. Fury rose in her heart.

And then hope.

She saw one of her handmaidens. Jasmine. The brunette had just come to, getting up groggily after she and the rest of her retinue were swept aside before Braya's wrath. Emora smiled, and focused on nothing but Jasmine, building upon the last bit of magic that she could call on.

Sybilla meanwhile, panted, crazed and in heat. "Oh yes, you will know the joy! THE RAPTURE!" She hugged Emora close, and her plentiful bosom widened out against the shuddering queen. One more push and the first of her brood would be planted deep in Emora's womb, sealing her fate for all time.

The spider woman gave one last orgasmic push, moaning so loudly as to make Avalon's bell towers ring and resonate. White flashed before her eyes. Thrills rushed through her limbs.

A wet squelch and an aroused gasp were enough to tell her that her conquest had begun. But when she looked down... it was not Emora that had been conquered. A handmaiden twitched in her place, her belly aglow with charmed violet light. Sybilla looked up and snarled, seeing the wily queen already running off, a flicker of whiteness in the blood and smoke choked battlefield, heading back behind her precious city gates.

Sybilla did not chase after her. She looked down to her new prey and pushed another brood down her ovipositor. The craving, the instinct to corrupt and sow more dark souls in the innocent was too much to deny. This new girl spread her thighs wide as she received Sybilla's eggs, her welcoming moans and resigned sighs revealing herself not to be another fighter, but a born follower.

The Spider Queen pushed deeper. The handmaiden took in the darkness.

King Gelbrecht was not as lucky as his consort.

Braya threw her head back, moaning deeply with the king's face smothered between her feminine globes, the feeling of another's life essence entering her body indescribable. Always the barbarian protested her dark spirit's yearnings, but even her virtue was never to be found in these most vile of moments, pleasure leveling morality and even consciousness itself.

But she did not black out. Morgana's spirit was indomitable, and forced her host to ride out the storm of ecstasy. Braya coped by raking her nails down the king's back, latching her lips onto his, moaning all the while. Her pale bottom, so toned and round from the rigors of combat, clenched and tensed to the milking of his cock, draining from King Gelbrecht every last bit of himself.