Queen of the Dead Fortress

Her eyes opened wide a second before he purged his loins deep within her, where his seed belonged.

Then he said, impulsively, "It's time to visit my former colleagues."

#

The dungeon in the fortress Graskan was large, and well equipped.

The surviving members of the party were naked, healed of their wounds and chained upright, hanging by their wrists from chains attached to metal girders arching overhead.

The reanimated skeletons were filling out with flesh, becoming gaunt men with scraps of clothing hanging off their bodies.

They were armed with whips and pokers and were making harsh, dry, crackling sounds that were not yet voices or laughter as they tortured the humans.

Wounds healed as Nathaniel watched, but the pain clearly did not fade with the marks upon their skin.

Their heads were hanging exhausted but as Elconcelj and Nathaniel entered, heads came up and instant rage flashed into all five faces.

Borrum had the discipline to remain silent but the heroes bellowed with rage and Avisha screamed abuse in a gutter patois that Nathaniel barely even understood.

Elconcelj laughed, contemptuous and dismissive, and with with a wave of her hand made Avisha choke on her words.

That shocked the others into silence and for several heartbeats the only sound was the choking and gagging of Avisha before she sagged in her chains, struggling to draw breath.

"Such a pity the others had to die," Elconcelj said musingly as she surveyed the five. "But Graskan will take other servants, in time."

That roused G'mor, who lunged forwards against his chains, uselessly, and snarled "We will never be your servants, devil-spawn!"

Elconcelj's head whipped around, eyes suddenly flashing with anger. "The devils wish they could have spawned my kind!" she snapped. "And you will be the first to bend your knee to me!"

She raised her hand, fingers spread and rigid, and he froze, becoming suddenly slack-jawed and vacant-eyed, standing with blank face and stolid patience in his chains.

Elconcelj lowered her hand to point at his groin and he stiffened, growing, thickening and rising to point rigidly forwards, fat and long in proportion to his mighty physique.

E'layor shouted "Do not dare, woman!" but she locked his jaw with a wave of her hand.

He continued to make angry noises behind his clenched teeth and the skeletons leapt forward with glee, swinging whips and clubs against his thighs and flanks and shoving hot pokers into his nipples.

Nathaniel waved them back vaguely, staring at Elconcelj with a growing sense of understanding.

As she stalked towards the impassive G'mor, she jerked at the silk skirt she wore, discarding it on the ground, leaving only the belt about her waist.

"You, oafish man, will be the first new human slave for the fortress Graskan arisen," she hissed. "And I will be the instrument of your enslaving, and your manhood will be the instrument of your undoing!"

With a motion of her hands, she made him spread his trunk-like legs and squat. She stepped up onto his thighs, turning around and lowering herself, reaching between her legs to grasp his giant cock and raise it towards her puffy and glistening lips.

She could not simply slide onto him and had to press him inside her, wriggling, gasping with pleasure as his girth forced her lips apart and she steadily forced herself down onto him.

She raised her hands behind her head, locking her fingers behind his neck to give her support, and, grinning at Nathaniel, said "I may keep this one as a pet."

Nathaniel, watching with a raging and unsatisfied erection, thought Yes, you should. After all, I will be having pets of my own.

As Elconcelj bottomed out on G'mor with a deep groan of satisfaction, Nathaniel felt his gaze drawn irresistibly to where Avisha hung, naked, sweat-sheened and chest heaving as she struggled to regain her breath.

"Have the satisfaction of knowing that you were right to not trust me," He said as he approached her.

She tried to spit at him but her throat was too dry.

Experimentally, feeling the fortress give him knowledge, he raised his hand and pointed at her and made her entire body aroused, face and breasts flushing and nipples erect.

"Stay away from me, wizard-whore!" she managed to gasp out, before he flexed his hand and twisted her womb inside her, making her legs curl up as she tried to double-over in her chains.

"You could resign yourself to your fate," Nathaniel said distantly as he moved his hand experimentally, tormenting her with arousal crawling over and through her flesh like a hundred tongues licking her inside and out, "or you could welcome it. I've heard how much you enjoy sex, at night, in your tent."

Borrum, who had closed his eyes and willed himself to absolute stillness, betrayed himself by a brief clenching of his jaw muscles.

"Either way," Nathaniel continued as he stepped forwards, opening his fingers wide and spreading lust throughout her entire body, "it will happen to you."

Avisha was gasping for breath, trying to draw in air to feed her self-discipline, but not even a lifetime of training, focus and survival in the face of threatened rape and slavery could help her against the magic of the fortress Graskan, which ripped through her defences with the subtlety of a troll's club.

Nathaniel was vaguely aware of Elconcelj was vigorously fucking herself on the unresisting G'mor's gigantic cock, face set in ecstasy as she drew herself all the way up then dropped back down under gravity, slamming onto him and ramming the head of his cock into the entrance of her womb.

He took the final step towards the shivering, sweating Avisha and reached out to cup her swollen mons, sending a quake right through her that forced a gasp of strangled pleasure through her clenched jaws.

He slipped a finger straight into her and felt her grip it instinctively. He followed it with another finger, then forced another in against the pressure of her clenched walls as she shuddered and she fought to pull away against her body pushing forwards.

He withdrew his fingers and impulsively sniffed, then licked them. She tasted slightly tart, but heady.

He undid his robes, letting them fall away from his permanently priapic cock.

She tried to look at it and laugh scornfully, but her body's reaction choked her from saying anything.

As he slowly walked around her, enjoying the sight from all angles, she managed to recover enough to gasp out "You doe-eyed fool! Do you really think she won't use you up and then discard you when she's had enough?"

His mind split between complete self-assurance of his own destiny and complete adoration of Elconcelj, he dismissed her question with a mocking laugh as he reached around her from behind to flick one engorged nipple with his finger, making her shudder and her womb spasm with need.

She collected enough of her mind to say, as he grabbed her hips from behind and lined himself up with more gifted knowledge than experience, "Then tell me why the queen of the fortress wears a chain!"

He rammed into her and her anger and her objections disappeared in a storm of lust that shredded her mind and left her as helpless in the face of her body's arousal as G'mor was in the face of Elconcelj's enchantment.

She was hot and tight, clenching him fiercely, and as he forced his way deep into her he felt a swelling sense of power, the magic in the fortress curling around and within him like a thing alive, making his nerves sing with greater than mere sexual arousal.

He laughed with pure, feral, predatory joy as he began slamming into her with force but no subtlety.

Unseen and unheard by him, Elconcelj, who was taking her pleasure from G'mor in her own time, goading his body into greater arousal even as she denied it completion, felt the wash of Avisha's helpless lust and without noticing began to force herself onto the hero's giant cock in a desperate attempt to satisfy her own.

The magic stormed through all four bodies, spilling over to make the other prisoners shudder and sweat and the still gaunt skeletons gibber tonguelessly and lash them with renewed frenzy.

The two chained prisoners, man and woman both, didn't have enough self-awareness left to notice as their minds were burnt clean, returned to a child's blank slate, all will and self and autonomy turned to so much ash.

Elconcelj was swept along on the tsunami, knowing only the moment - her own lust, the over-bearing arousal of her body, the pain in her bouncing breasts and burning thighs and distended tunnel, and the raging fire in her womb.

Nathaniel felt, for the first time, what it truly felt to be master of the fortress Graskan, to have control of all the magic woven, stored and channelled through its stones and to have access to the vast repository of lore it had acquired through its long centuries of occupation.

He laughed like a man demented, but like an emperor demented, feeling the long and empty but never dusty corridors in his mind, the battlements unsullied by war or time, and the servants gone to skeletons but waking up, needing only the touch of a true master to reanimate them fully.

He reached out to them and throughout the fortress Graskan fallen skeletons rose to their feet, growing muscle, sinew and organs, growing skin and, over it, clothing made whole. In the dungeon room, the servants began to laugh and sing and dance around the hanging prisoners, whipping them with renewed vigour.

Nathaniel felt the fortress awaken around him and allowed himself to cum, shooting a prodigious quantity of his seed into the muscular thief.

As he came, the other three came as well.

Avisha's scream mingled with Elconcelj's and the deep, elemental, animalistic grunt from G'mor as he poured himself into the violently spasming witch.

The captives continued to shake, Avisha wracked by violent after-shocks that shook her hanging, sweat-drenched body as Nathaniel stepped backwards, carelessly sliding out of the thief-assassin's body, and Elconcelj fell forwards, popping off the massive hero's giant shaft with an anguished groan, sprawling on the floor on all fours.

Nathaniel looked around with his eyes and the eyes of every servant in the castle, and with a flick of thought he sent his magic through his seed, his essence, into Avisha's body and into the void that was her mind, writing there the mind of a loyal and fierce defender of the fortress Graskan and its ruler.

He also felt a void - a tiny absence. He turned to where Elconcelj knelt on hands and knees, nearly spent, defiant to the last but will crumbling as she saw the defeat of the plans she had hatched before the last ruler of the fortress Graskan had burnt themselves out in the final days of the Mage Wars.

"You were trying to enslave me," he said to her upturned, defeated face.

"You were trying to take the fortress Graskan from me.

"You were trying to distract me, to dilute my influence upon your skin once you found you couldn't control me directly through your womb, so you could trap my mind with your greater knowledge.

"You thought that by keeping my mind clouded, you could work at me until you took Graskan from me."

He stepped forwards until he was standing over her and could see the last traces of hope and defiance die in her eyes.

"Tell me, Elconcelj," he asked, mockingly, "why do you wear a chain?"

He reached down and took hold of the chain that she wore, the chain that, piercing both of her nipples, marked her as a mage's bed slave and personal pet, and jerked savagely, squeezing a cry of pain from her lips and tears from her eyes as she was hauled to a kneeling position by her nipples.

"But don't fear," he said. "I won't hold it against you. Soon, you won't even be able to hold such thoughts."

Her head was on level with his groin and, submissive now, she opened her mouth and guided his still engorged cock inside.

She performed dutifully to the best of her skill, using her hands to cup and caress his sac and to massage and stroke his shaft as her tongue, her lips and her teeth danced over him.

When he consented and came, she swallowed as a slave should then knelt with her eyes closed and, helpless now and resigned, accepted as his will followed the path of his seed inside and through her, shredding her thoughts, flaying her will, destroying her and recreating an adoring slave in her place.

When he had finished, Elconcelj was no more and Elconcelj gazed up at him with worshipful lust and awaited his command.

With G'mor's seed inside the slave, it was a simple matter for Nathaniel to follow the essence back to its source and create a soldier from the husk that awaited.

He stretched, feeling his body sing as he moulded it into a true warrior-mage's weapon, hard and muscular and regal, skin flowing as muscles grew and settled beneath it.

He focused his attention locally and felt Avisha's body from the inside, feeling what she felt, feeling her long, powerful legs and hard stomach, the burning ache in her stretched arms and the fire that lingered in her breasts and deep inside her.

Yes. It would be fun to play with that one. With a thought he made the chains fall away and refreshed her body, letting her stand tall again.

He turned her head and looked at Borrum through her eyes - at her lover, whose body she knew so well. He stepped her forwards to wipe the sweat from his face, noting the spasm of pain and cold anger behind his eyes.

Yes. This one would be a valuable asset. And seducing him, then taking him, would be so much fun.

Nathaniel withdrew from control of Avisha's mind, letting her perform the seduction herself, but he stayed inside her. It would be fun to savour that experience, as she used her body to make his betray him.

Nathaniel smiled in his own body, and focused once more on the adoring face of Elconcelj, staring up at him.

Ah, yes. There was another hero still for her. He would watch that, as well.