Antony and the other man began firing as well. They, too, fell, brave Bodvar and Valbrand and Dalr and the others moving swiftly against them, with purpose and intent.
Jessie tried to make an escape down the path to the house, but Thrym and Ellisif blocked her exit, closed in, growling, swiping at her with fur-covered, hypermuscular arms tipped in claws, herding her back to stand before Samantha and Fenris. Her terror was undeniable. "C-Call them off, please- I beg you-"
Samantha rested her hands on her naked thighs. "Don't beg me. Beg them. If you want to survive, I suggest you start showing some humility."
"H-H-How- how do-"
Behind Samantha, Fenris nuzzled against the side of her head. She smiled. "For a start, take off your clothes." She smiled with immense satisfaction at the sounds of the high-pitched cries from Jessie's men behind her.
She watched Jessie glance about, hesitant, until Garm and Velaug moved in, one swiping at her back, ripping fabric, threatening more. Then the woman began undressing, the spectres reaching up and snapping away any clothes removed, carrying them off and leaving other spectres to take their place.
Closer still, Fenris caught her attention, growling. Samantha heard, understood and nodded. "Forgive me, Master." She reached into the chest, removed the leather collar, thick black with diamond-shaped chrome studs. She'd seen it in a pet shop while getting supplies for Mac, and, as Fenris saw through her eyes, whispered to her to purchase it. But not for Mac.
She fitted it around her throat, clicked it shut. She had initially considered it a new humiliation for her, a reminder of her subservient status, as if she needed one. But now, she saw it as a proud badge, that she was owned by a force mightier than she could ever have dreamed possible.
A sound from Jessie drew back her attention. She stood before the circle, naked, hands covering small pale breasts and cupped over her bush, cringing at the remaining closeness of the pack. Jessie seemed to summon up a measure of strength to ask, "W-What now?"
Samantha savoured the fear she saw. "Now, get on all fours, head low, arse high."
The woman didn't move, as if in disbelief, until impatient Mikkel leapt up and knocked her down. She yelped, shook, cried out as Thrym and Unne approached and playfully sniffed at her, before they backed away, and a larger figure drew closer.
Samantha gasped. "Sigurd!"
It was him, his essence surviving on its own, despite Jessie having destroyed his image. Though the latest of the pack, she had pictured him being strong enough to become the leader, second only to Fenris, of course. Now he knelt beside the woman, almost gently stroking her hair, claws trailing lightly over her bare spine, then down over her cheeks, slipping between.
The woman looked across at Samantha, terror at what she knew was to happen. "P-Please don't- he can't-"
Samantha watched dispassionately as Sigurd acted regardless, kneeling behind Jessie, the long pink stem of his cock lengthening and thickening from a thick tuft of hair at his groin, as he rose up and promptly mounted the woman, gripping her sides easily as his shaft sought her pussy, found it and filled her up, making her call out.
Closer to Samantha, Fenris nudged against her. Have you forgotten me?
She laughed softly, reaching up to stroke him behind his ears, kiss his face. "Never, Master. Never." Now she turned and positioned herself, displaying for him, preparing for the weight and heat of his huge body as he, too, knelt behind her and mounted her, his hands gripping her hips, the depth of their relationship and experience revealed with the ease with which they connected, with the eagerness by which Samantha met his controlled thrusts.
In contrast, Jessie had a rougher time of it, grunting into the grass as Sigurd pumped into her, taking her again and again, reaching out and grasping her hair in one huge hand, growling at her if she displeased him. Perhaps it was his relative youth, or the animosity with which Jessie had shown to his painted image, or to Samantha, Sigurd's 'mother'. Or maybe it was just that Sigurd was a different personality to Fenris, would live his life in the way he chose.
And he would live, growing stronger with every opportunity of mating with Jessie, every release of sexual energy, just as Fenris had gained strength from his bonding with Samantha.
Sweet sensations distracted Samantha, and she relaxed her head into her crossed arms and surrendered to the bliss of her Master, her protector and lover's actions, the fast and furious pumping that made her howl as she came, then again, while around them, Eigel and Freyvid, swift Hersir and timid Ingjald, and all the others, howled in triumph before disappearing into the woods. Their woods now; they would live, but not be harmed, or even seen unless they choose to be seen.
Fenris filled her with his seed, as Sigurd filled Jessie, the latter calling out until she was hoarse and insensate.
Samantha had disentangled herself from Fenris, and lay curled up in his thick, inviting arms, his fur, content to close her eyes and dream.
Then she heard a whimper nearby, and opened her eyes to see a scratched, battered-looking, naked Jessie, standing before her, too staggered to think of hiding her nudity now, with Sigurd close beside her, still gripping her hair like a lead. The woman looked at Samantha with a dazed, confused expression. "I'm- I'm to do something."
Samantha nodded, understanding. "You'd better do it, then."
Jessie nodded weakly as Sigurd released her hair. Then she dropped gingerly to her knees, then to all fours, bowing her head to the ground before Samantha, and kissed the woman's bare feet, acknowledging Samantha's superior status.
Then she looked up from under dishevelled hair. "W-What now-"
Samantha shrugged. "Don't ask me. Ask your new Master."
The woman started, hearing in her head now the voice of Sigurd. She nodded to him, and crawled out into the night, at his bidding.
Samantha and Fenris watched them depart, basking in the mutual pride of their son with his new pet.