Harem of the Witch-Hunter

A cacophony of grunts, cackles, whines, and howls echoed through the massive ruined underground cathedral. The Sacred Monolith rose from the center of the dirty marble floor and hummed with magical energy, an emerald edifice that defiantly stood between two emerald boulders unphased by the passing of time. It's surface had become slick with the condensed heat that dominated the cavern. It glowed brightly enough of pale green light that it illuminated all the sin ongoing in its sanctum. The Congress of the Emerald Horde had begun. Dozens of tents, colored and decorated with the emblems and trappings of their respective Camp's homeland, were pitched in the ruins of the unholy place. It was a time for one of the most feared collectives of monsters on the western continent of Barthica to gather and share the tales -and fruits- of their exploits. Above the myriad sounds of hundreds of beasts were the rolling waves of their harems moaning in pleasure echoing off the cracked stained glass images of long dead unholy warriors. The Emerald Horde was no mere collection of beasts. They were monsters gathered in purpose: to fulfill the will of the Sacred Monolith and gain a harem of human girls.

Among the steaming, sweating beasts carousing, supplicating, and rutting was a small one-eyed goblin: Nutten Sak. He clutched at his shoulder, a fresh brand in the image of the Sacred Monolith still ached, the memory of the burning pain and sacred incantation would be with the youngling forever. The new member of the Emerald Horde searched vainly for his brother. Every turn lead him into a new manner of beast or maiden. He had been pushed over, knocked aside, and drenched in the ambient fluids that seemed to hang heavy in air. Just as the small green creature began to gnash his sharpened teeth in frustration he saw his elder brother Ballem Sak waving to him from the wooden scaffolding that ascended along the marble wall to the height of the ceiling. The slightly larger goblin waved to his younger sibling to join him.

The little green wretch darted between the legs of several monsters. Only on one occasion running face first into one of their impressive endowments to the laughter of all witnesses. He crossed past a circle of particularly infamous monsters all gathered around the Sacred Monument. Nutten recognized one of the circle's members, then another, and another. They were the leaders of all the various Camps that had gathered, the Speakers of the Emerald Horde.

From the circle of Speakers the first to step forward was a handsome centaur with chiseled features. His wavy brown hair fell upon bare muscular brown shoulders, one of which branded with the image of the Sacred Monolith he stood before. Upon his stallion back were three beautiful dark skinned human women, clothed in only simple leathers and naked adoration for their master. "Representing the Camp of Beastfolk I, Rizog Windrunner, offer my voice to you, oh Sacred Monument, in regaling the tale of one of our own who so embodied your teachings that we deemed them worthy of placement upon the roof of your cathedral as an Icon. Please accept this offering of profanity in your name and bless us for another birth and death!"

The elder goblin brother heard this from up high on the platform and looked up at the ceiling to try to guess the Icon he would be picking. To have your image on upon the Conquered Horizon, the massive crude fresco that framed the Scared Monolith, was the greatest honor a member of the Emerald Horde could achieve. Even having a member of your Camp adorn the massive cluttered mural was a source of honor.

Nutten Sak crawled up the crudely reinforced scaffolding to share his brother's top down view of the event. "I hate this guy." Ballem said casually, "His harem is hot though."

"The girls on his back?" the younger one answered as he hoisted himself up to sit next to his goblin kin, "Eh, they're ok. You can see the whole Sacred Monolith from up here! It's beautiful."

The elder brother laughed at what he saw as the naivety of new blood to the Horde. "I guess so."

Far beneath them, the centaur Speaker gestured to the Sacred Monolith with a reverence one would expect to see from the head of a clergy in the presence the Gods not from a monster in front of a glowing rock. "For seeing our shared dream come true, our great dream of a harem for every monster, a harem of beautiful women! I offer you boundless gratitude! I offer you all my dedication! I offer you the name and deeds of Vacaras, son of Garlan!"

---

Vacaras, son of Garlan lived a cruel life even for a minotaur. Born on this continent of Barthica he was raised in the western lands of that recently became known as the Axiom Unity in the Great War with the Elysian Chorus. Vacaras spent his youth grazing the vast golden fields and sleeping in mountain lairs with little care nor fear. Perhaps once a week the most eventful thing that would happen is that the mighty minotaur needed to flee to a certain field to escape the eyes of a passing herdsmen. But even such occurrences were rare in the Axiom highlands. Vacaras lived a simple quiet life. This of course changed once the Great War began. Lands needed to be cleared, bodies needed to be trained, beasts needed to be saddled and all to settle a debate among the humans! Vacaras would not be isolated from these injustices either.

One day a woman approached our kin in the field. She was dressed in white robes over pink wool. Her head was concealed from the sun by a vast white brimmed hat. She twirled a grey staff in her hand. On her hip was a thick black tome. Vacaras had not noticed her approach and yet here she was mere feet away from him. How she could have appeared so suddenly shocked and baffled our kin. They locked eyes. Vacaras saw she was a mature, voluptuous figure with piercing eyes behind small pink rimmed glasses. The woman whispered some words in a language our field grazer did not know and lightly struck the earth with her staff. Chains made of white light erupted from the earth around Vacaras and swept around his mighty torso and bulging biceps. Though he tried to fight his restraints with his incredible strength they were unbreakable.

Our kinfolk's peaceful life was stripped away by none other than an adventurer.

---

A roar of jeers and insults rose at the mention of an adventurer. "Fucking sword-swinging-chaotic-good-being-murder-hobos, the lot of them!" Ballem roared.

Nutten echoed his brother's sentiment: "Damn the spellbook-copying-corpse-looting-home-invading thieves!" There were few things and ubiquitously hated among monster kind as the adventurer.

---

Vacaras, son of Garlan, was dragged away from his peaceful life in the highlands. He would be a slave to this adventuress for five years. He would learn her name was Wik and she was an highly proficient wizard. He would be forced learn how to kill. He would be sent to faraway battlefields with the wizard. He would be a part of the Axiom Army's war for reasons he would never care to learn. He would be experimented on by his cruel captor. He would never be treated as her equal. And through it all, he would change.

One night many years later Vacaras stood among a littered array of Elysian cultists. His eyes were a deep red with rage. A town was burning around him. In his hands was a dripping greataxe larger than any human man could hope to wield. He puffed angry fumes through his nostrils. Thick sharpened horns adorned his head that had been engraved with magic scripts without his consent. His fur, long since bleached pure white from repeated exposure to the callous wards cast by his captor, was spattered with dark red blood. It had even seeped into the bottom of his low hanging loincloth. He looked out and saw Wik was nowhere to be found. Had she been killed? Vacaras did not know but he had learned to repress such hopeful thinking. She had survived worse. And yet what if she was far enough way? Distracted? It was in this moment that Vacaras would make a choice. Not a new one, not one he had never made before, but one that still took every fiber of his cold survivalist courage to make.

Vacaras ran from the burning town. He heard nobody pursue him. He sprinted nonetheless. Wik had access to magic that would make detecting her impossible even to other wizards. But the stark white minotaur ran in the cold night, illuminated by the burning town at his back. He ran until the sun came up and when he finally stopped and turned she was not there, she was nowhere to be found. An uneasy sigh of relief left his nostrils. He looked down at the broken shackles around his wrists, undoubtedly they had tracking magic in them. He needed help desperately. Fortunately for him, it was at that moment we he and myself met. I, Rizog Windrunner, found him in a clearing, his snow white fur out of place in the mud and trees.

The minotaur would take the oath before the Sacred Monolith and receive the brand of your image that we all share. He would emerge a proud member of the Emerald Horde. When he prepared to leave our Camp the next day I asked him where he was going. "I can sense mages." He would say in a low voice while gazing off into the sunrising horizon. "Another 'gift' from my old master. They are who will make my harem, Speaker. Witches sought to tame me and they failed. It will be my sole purpose to tame the witches in turn." As he said this his dedication caused his brand to glow its unholy green light. I could only let him go.

---

"Look at him. Inserting himself in the story like that. What'd I tell you the guy's an asshole." Ballem said to a hasty shush. His younger brother gave him a light shove in the arm that bore his own sacred brand.

The two were silent for a moment only for the younger one to interrupt quietly again. "Hey brother. Do you think the brands read our thoughts and feelings? Do you think the Sacred Monolith knows what we know?"

"I don't know." The larger goblin replied paying little attention to his younger brother's question. "It might just be a big glowing rock. No thoughts or feelings of its own."

"No way." Nutten pondered. Something in him knew this to be wrong. Something he couldn't pin down but something he could not deny. Quietly he continued, "Even if it doesn't have thoughts it does have a hunger."

---

Within a week Vacaras had tracked the magical energy often left around our mountain camp to a small isolated cabin in the forest. It was black and worn with age. The place had a foreboding look to it even in the middle of the day. With a sharp kick of his cloven foot the ex-infantry beast sent the wooden door flying. The inside of the cabin reeked of incense. It had various herbs and bones scattered on the floor. As the white minotaur stepped inside his eyes fell upon a stunned young woman frozen in shock over a cauldron. Her long wavy black hair, held back by a small purple band, was in sharp contrast to her pale skin. Pale blue horrified eyes were framed above dark sleepless circles. A dark purple wool gown obscured her figure save for hinting at an impressive chest. The two were still for a moment in each other's gaze. The witch acted first. She cast a bleakly glowing hand out and two skeletal arms broke from the floorboards to grasp Vacaras' hooves. Upon touching his white fur they disintegrated into pale light. The black haired girl was flummoxed. "I am resistant to your magics, witch." Vacaras announced as he slammed the butt of his great axe against the wooden floor. "But I do not wish to kill you."

The witch's voice was high pitched and nervous. She stuttered forth a reply "Wh-Wh-What do you want from me?"

Vacaras gripped his axe tightly in his fist and the brand on his shoulder thrummed in unholy green light. His chest filled with determination. This would be his first step towards revenge, towards a life corrected, towards his dream shared by all members of the Emerald Horde: a harem of human women! The hulking minotaur declared with single-minded confidence: "The same thing I want from all witches in all lands: nasty witch sex!"

A heavy pause filled the air. Neither said anything. The stalwart confidence that had made the beast feel infallible quickly began to crumble. Embarrassment crept at his sides. Finally the pale eyed witch swallowed.

"O-Oh. Well...you could've just asked." The witch nervously smiled.

---

"I...I do apologize for breaking your door. In the past, mages have not been so...kind." Vacaras eventually confessed to the black haired necromancer on her knees between his legs. She had gestured him over to a small, albeit dirty, black couch and even brought a glass of warm, albeit foul, tea.

"O-Oh n-no. It's not a problem at all. I can just have a skeleton fix it."

"Why are you being so kind?" The massive minotaur inquired suspiciously as he shifted back onto the couch to the creaking and groaning of the wood.

The witch was fumbling with a lock of her wavy hair nervously. "W-Well...I cast a spell the other day to try to summon more company. I'm not good at enchantments so nobody came. It gets lonely out here. Nobody wants to talk with the necromancer." The girl laughed at herself uncomfortably. "I mean I get it. I have been taking the bodies of their dead relatives and...never mind. I am...happy to have somebody who wants to spend time together." Pale blue eyes looked up with an honesty Vacaras had never seen in any human let alone a magic user. Something stirred in him. His loincloth throbbed. "O-Oh my!"

"I must apologize again." The minotaur announced bashfully. "I did not even ask your name."

The witch laughed nervously again. There was something off-putting about her laugh. It was not malicious but it struck our kin's ears as nothing short of creepy. "My name is Valerie Duskal. And you?"

"I am Vacaras, son of Garlan, ex-infantry beast of the Axiom Army, ex-mage slayer of the White Council, new blood of Camp Beastfolk, and member of the Emerald Horde."

"Ehehe and fucker of witches, huh?" This caught the beast off guard. Valerie's raised eyebrow and hungry expression spoke to the fact that she was more ready for this than he was. A fact he did not expect. Nonetheless his loincloth throbbed again. Her small pale hands, shaking with excitement or nervousness Vacaras could not tell, rested themselves on each of our kin's hulking thighs. The necromancer's labored breath was hot with lust and caused her hefty breasts to rise and fall in her wool gown. Her pale cheeks had become flushed with red need. "Nasty witch sex? I can do that." She smiled and mumbled to nobody in particular.

Valerie pulled his long loincloth aside and her eyes widened in excitement. A heavy hardening bull cock began to rise to meet her. It was nearly as long as her forearm and twice as thick. The skin was black and soft. Two balls hung off of the couch each larger than a handful. A pair of soft hands wrapped around the girthy base of the thing and began to stroke slowly. Wonder and lust danced unrestrained across her expression as the minotaur's might cock hardened. When he reached his full height Valerie's eyes were glued in awe and her mouth hung slightly open in pleased shock. Her whole body was quivering like she was freezing cold but in truth the heat she was feeling was near unbearable. "Shall I disrobe for you?"

"If you would." Vacaras agreed trying to sound as collected as he could. He could not have known how unprepared he was for what the necromancer had in mind. She rose to her feet, locks of black hair obscuring some of her smiling, hungry face. He could see now that even though the dark purple gown was long enough to drag on the floor it was could not help but struggle against her figure. Each of her breasts appeared easily the size of her head and her ample rear caused the fabric to bunch up between her ass cheeks. Her eyes flashed a cruel purple. Suddenly, two pale ghostly versions of herself corporealized on both sides of the original. They reached across her front and clasped her gown. They tore the front open with a ghastly laughter that echoed from between the lands of the living and dead before the seated minotaur who only stared -frozen in a mix of lust and horror. Valerie's heavy breasts bounced free of their sole restraint. They were even larger than the minotaur had thought. Her pink nipples were hard with excitement. "Is th-this the nasty witch sex you wanted?" She blurted out in a mix of desperation, raw thirst, and the unmissable hint of insecurity.

Vacaras could only gulp in quiet realization that he did not know what he was getting into.

---

"You're...quite skilled at this." The man beast grunted. "R-Really? I'm so glad." Valerie shakily but earnestly replied before returning her mouth to the head of the massive throbbing beast of a dick before her. I have been told later by second-hand accounts that by skilled our kin meant talented. There was no grace to her technique at all. Clumsy loving licks painted the fat head of the cock before she would wrap her thin lips around the tip and suck with all her might. Meanwhile the base of the thick cock was pressed between the witch's full heavy breasts. She kneaded and mashed her tits along the weighty length while lovingly lapping at the head. Occasionally dark circled eyes would look up at the beast cock's owner. They would be met by a squirming boy trying his best to appear a composed monster. "I've never been with a minotaur before. But I've read about it a lot. I mean A LOT...never mind." She laughed clumsily to herself even as she stroked the beast between her soft pillowy bust. "Though for a minotaur aren't you a bit...small?" Vacaras let out series of shocked scoffs and snorts.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean!" He declared. "A-Ah I'm sorry! B-But it doesn't matter! You're more than big enough for me." She smiled with an awkward affection. Vacaras looked away in an embarrassment he had never felt before. "N-No don't be mad! You're big enough for me to do this!"

The busty necromancer sank both hands into her full round tits and pressed them against his base as she opened her mouth and forced as much beast cock down as she could take. This amounted to only half of his length before she held herself there as her eyes began to tear up. She desperately massaged the base and lapped at the underside of his length like her life depended upon his pleasure. Spit and pre-cum leaked from her bulging throat, from her chocking maw, passed her lips, down his length, and pooled between her breasts.

Gagging and gasping she unsheathed the inhuman girth from her tight throat in a brief rain of hot stickiness. She fell back onto her hands. Valerie tried to catch her breath a moment. Vacaras, barely returning to his senses, looked down to see the witch resting on her knees with her hands behind her back and massive chest pressed forward. From her thin lips, down her pale neck, smattered across her huge tits, and down her soft bare stomach was the minotaur's first load. He had not even felt it coming but it had happened before either of them expected. Valerie collected herself first. "I'm glad you liked it. You should tell me before you cum next time -if you can." She said softly and kindly. "When you feel up to it m-maybe we can have some proper 'witch sex' later?"

But something was taking hold of Vacaras. His sacred brand throbbed with malevolent hungry energy. "Glory..." The minotaur murmured.

"I-I'm sorry?"

Green light filled our kinfolk's eyes. The power of the Sacred Monolith. The hallmark of the Emerald Horde! He rose, renewed in both strength and conviction. He would not be beaten here by some clumsy necromancer. He said he was going to tame witches not be tamed by them and he meant it. The great beast stood over the cum-coated woman in awe on her knees before him. "Glory to the Emerald Horde, who makes our foes into lovers, Valerie Duskal, submit to your new god and lord, and abandon all the others."