tagSci-Fi & FantasyHeroes of Herodor Ch. 06

Heroes of Herodor Ch. 06


It had been a month, and by now Amy felt so full of energy that she was fit to explode.

One month of nonstop fucking., A month of Nonstop drawing of sexual power, all for the purpose of committing a murder. She had lost count how may men had passed through her, and certainly Samaz wasn't keeping count. When she woke up in the mornings now, Amy felt like she could blow a hole through the wall of the palace, and knew that for a fact this was true. She hadn't really understood what being an Elemental Witch meant, until now. So much power, so much power....

And now the time had come. "The Emperor has returned," Samaz said that morning, although the constant fanfare playing through the palace was proof enough of that. Soon enough it came, an official summons. The Emperor wished to pleasure himself with his newest concubine. She would present herself in the Hall of Ten Thousand Pillows that evening. "Are there really ten thousand pillows in there?" Amy asked Samaz later on that night, as she prepared herself, anointing her freshly washed body with scented oils and perfumes, and slipping on a wispy silk dress that clung to her every curve as she walked. Her hair was done up with jewels and her lips paintd a delicate shade of red.

"Supposedly. But the Emperor will not take you there. Now listen close." Samaz handed her a glass of water, which Amy gratefully drank. "You cannot just blast him the moment you walk in. You must wait until his guard is down, and the best time for that is when he is having sex with you. Wait until he ejaculates into you, that is when he will be the most distracted. Strike at him them, and end his tyranny " Trumpets blared. "It is time Good luck to you."

"Thank you Samaz, for everything."

Guards escorted her down red painted hallways, through a golden set of doors, and into a cavernous hall strewn with pillars and cushions. Perhaps a thousand people were gathered there, great lords and officials of the world, and their pleasure slaves. On a high dais, the Emperor reclined. Eyes looked on her as she approached Great Saar, and kneeled down before his throne. He looked down at her, but did not speak, and then a moment later she took her place at his feet.

The Hall of Ten thousand Pillows was smoky with incense, and lite by glowing lamps that hung from the high ceiling on thick chains, Scantily clad pleasure slaves of both sexes attended to their masters and mistresses, their supple bodies gleaming in the soft light. The Emperor gently ran his hand along Amy's chin, his eyes glittering with lust. He then clapped his hands twice, the room falling silent, as the evenings entertainment began.

Music began to play from hidden alcoves, filling the chamber with its soft tones. More incense was thrown on the fires and from the effect it had on many it seemed to Amy that thee purpose was more than just providing a pleasant scent. Giggles and whispered comments, great anticipation at the coming sight. It was rumored that the Emperor had demanded something extra special for this night, to celebrate his return to the palace.

With a loud rumbling sound, a panel opened in the floor, massive stone panels pulling aside. A massive golden framework arose, holding a massive crossbar in the center. Suspended from their her feet tired to small footholds below, was the Amazon Queen, Dyanthea. . He head hung low, her blond hair hanging limply. The framework came to a halt, and she looked upm, eyes filled with hatred. "By what right..." she snarled.

"You should have thought again, your highness," said Great Saar, "before you began fomenting rebellion,. OR did you think I wouldn't find out?" Turning to the gathered throng, he declared, "This...woman, has been found guilty of speaking against Great Saar. She has sworn oaths of loyalty, but in her heart is only treason For this crime, I strip her of her titles and rank The Amazons shall forfeit their freedom for a hundred years, and be ruled by one of my own representatives."

A shiver went though the crowd at this. Saar's favorites tended to be capricious and brutal, men befitting the nature of their master.

"But as for you, Dyanthea," he said, turning back to the captive queen. "Your shame will be entertainment for me."

A rumbling sound began, and from the pit below rose up a long, slender shaft, moving towards Dyanthea above. Its tip was rounded, phallus like, as it went a reddish ooze began to trickle down its polished metal surface. The assembled throne held it breath expectantly as the giant phallus came closer, Dyanthea struggling against her bonds. Her legs spread open and then with an anguished cry the phallus was pushed into her body, the reddish liquid a powerful aphrodisiac setting her senses ablaze.

Slowly she was lifted up, until the massive phallus was only just within her body, and then with a screech she was dropped back down. Dyantheas agonized wail, a mix of pain and raging, burning lust, filled the chamber, echoing off the walls.

With a buzzing sound the long shaft began to vibrate, and Amy could see the Amazon Queen's breasts heave as she rose up and down against the massive cock, writhing in passion as her body lost control and gave itself to desire.

The musky odor of lust filled the hall, and Amy could see the others, their senses inflamed by the sensual torture before them, give into their desires. An orgy was breaking out, the members of the court merging into a mass of entwined limbs, lips, and fluids. Lips kissed, sucked cock or pressed against pussy, cock plunged into pussy or ass with equal abandon.

Amy felt her own lust burn, she needed to be fucked, long and hard. The mingled cries of passion filled the air until it became a roar. One hand was already massaging a breast, while the other plunged between her legs, frigging her sopping pussy.

She looked back, and saw the Emperor lounging on his cushioned seat, while one of his lesser concubines pleasured him with her mouth. His eyes met hers, and he smirked with the sure knowledge of absolute power. One hand gripped the slaves head and forced her deeper onto his cock. Amy fought back the urge to glare, breasts heaving as the she finger fucked herself into a frenzy, eyes locked on the Emperor being pleasured by the slut.

And then he forced her away and onto all fours, the Emperor mounting his concubine from behind. One, two, three thrusts of his massive cock, and she was screaming out her climax.

Amy looked back at the Amazon Queen, who was still thrusting away on top of the pole. She looked back, at Great Saar, he was gone, the concubine lying on the floor, look of sensual bliss on her face.

A servant appeared at Amy's side. "The Emperor commands your presence. Follow me."

This was it. Amy stood and followed the servant out of the massive hall and down a narrow passage. At the end was a small transport pad. When she stepped onto it the world flashed white around her for a moment, and then she was standing in a large chamber strewn with cushions and redolent with the smells of incense.

Amy fell to her knees, hands on hips, chest thrust out and eyes down, the posture of submission. From the far end of the room came the Emperor's voice. "Earth woman, I desire you. Pleasure me."

:As you command," she whispered. Amy pulled her flimsy robe away and let it fall to the floor. Her full breasts seemed to glow in the soft light.

She started to get to her feet, and the Emperor said, "Approach on your hands and knees."

And so Amy did as she was told, crawling across the floor, face and eyes filled with slutty promise. The Emperor sat on a low chair, penis hard and erect, still wet from the concubines juices.

His hand slipped onto her head and pushed it down down. "Use your mouth, slut," he growled.

Amy opened her lips, and ran her tongue along the heavy shaft of the Emperor cock. Her hot breath bathed the head, as she lashed the tip with her tongue. Above her, the Emperor groaned with blissful pleasure, his grip on her hair slackening.

She sucked him deep into her mouth, suppressing the gag reflex as his cock pressed against the back of her throat. Her cheek bulged out as his manhood filled her mouth, her teeth scraping along the sensitive flesh, her nostrils inhaling his musk

And then her head was yanked free. "Use your breasts," he commanded. She slipped closer, pushing her breasts together, pumping the slick cock shaft between them, tongue flicking at the tip as it rose up towards her face. Sweat slicked her chest, and the slap of flesh filled the room.

Great Saar then reached down and tweaked her nipples. Amy's lust, already at the boil, boiled over, and she moaned as her first orgasm hit.

The Emperor did not wait any longer. He pushed her to the floor, rising above her as he pulled her legs apart. His eyes focused on hers, the Emperor thrust himself into her with one rapid move.

Amy gasped, as one orgasm quickly flowed into another. Her legs locked about the Emperors waist as he slammed into her fiercely, driven to a frenzy, fucking her hard, her body responding to the rough treatment. And yet, one part of her mind remained detached, aware of her purpose here. Samaz had told her what had to happen. The Emperor was protected by many wards, mystical and otherwise, his powers were greater than any other being. Only when his defenses were lowered could any strike have a chance of success. When he reached his own climax and spilled his seed, then he would be distracted.

"Yessss," she moaned, gripping her imperial lovers shoulders. "I am your slut, your slave. Fuck me, fuck your slave, fuck your whore, fuck me, fuck me...."

And then she felt him stiffen, even as her own final climax hit. Streams of sperm suddenly flooded her womb, and she looked up to see the Emperors eyes closed, his mind in the grip of pure bliss.

Now was her time

Amy reached deep into herself, summoning the power, she had been storing, the accumulated energy of countless sexual encounters. Raw power filled her, like bullets in a gun. With a grunt she shaped it, and then struck. Searing white light flowed through her body and into the Emperor, burning his flesh, burning his spirit, burning to the center of his being. She heard his howl of agony and it was music to her ears. She would burn this son of a bitch to ash, until there was nothing left but a scorch mark....

But then another force appeared within him, countering her own power, and impenetrable wall could not be breached, which halted her power, contained it, and then sent it flying back at her.

Amy remembered being flung across the room., bouncing off a wall and hitting the floor. Stunned, she looked up and saw the Emperor rise to his feet, large patched of his skin scorched, smoke rising from his body, his face a mask of rage. She summoned her remaining power, ready for another attack, but then he was in front of her, his body now wreathed in hellish black flames, and the last thing she saw was his fist coming towards her head....

* * *

Liaka had lost track of how many men had fucked her.

Her body ached. Her wrists were chafed. After days of this, chained down in the hold, constantly fed aphrodesiacs to keep her at the ready, she had lost all track of time. Only thw constant reality of one man after another striding into her cell and relieving their lusts in her marked any difference from the monotony. Only her hatred of the slavers , of the Imperials kept her sane, only the need to protect her kin have her the strength to continue.

Perhaps a week after first being brought here, the number of unwelcome visitors lessened, until three whole days went by without someone coming in too fuck her. On one hand the relief was most welcome, on the other they still kept feeding her the Tears of Selarr, so by the time the crewmen returned for their pleasure she was so crazed with lust some of the men were actually scared away.

What she didn't know was that the caravan had entered its most dangerous stage in the journey. They had entered that part of the desert known as the Shifting Wastes, where the sands turned to powder that swallowed men and mired wheels. Every man on board was needed to work the landships. The routes changed constantly and several times the caravan had to stop to dig out a vehicle that got stuck.

Haukbershar was not pleased, and his bellowed commands to his subordinates echoed through the vehicle. "Get us moving, you scum! Or it'll be your asses on the block!"

Perhaps a week into the sands, Liaka saw something strange, even for this cursed place. Looking up from a despair induced funk, she saw a line of Hungu crewmen marching through the bowels of the ship carrying on their shoulders what looked like a polished wooden log. Draped over this was...something, a person, the arms and legs bound with metal fetters, draped in a thick cloth. As they went by, the covering slipped a bit, and Liaka saw an eye of radiant blue, and a few strands of golden blond hair. It seemed to her that there was nothing more beautiful in the world at that moment....

One of the Hungu cursed, and pulled the cover back up. He then hit the pole, causing it to vibrate, and making the bound figure writhe.

The next day the lead landship got stuck again. Crewmen descended to find the front two wheels caught in a soft sand pit. Deep in her cell, Liaka could hear their shouted commands, the distant taps of their shoulders striking the wheels. She prayed that the ghosts of the desert would rise up and consume them all.

At that point the entire landship shook from a massive explosion.


Torens command echoed across the sands even as the rocket teams reloaded their weapons. Mounds of sand exploded as rebel warriors jumped up, blast rifles in hand, and spirited across the sands. Red laser bolts pounded into the sides of the landships, cutting down the slavers digging out the wheels.

Haukbershar screamed orders, even as the metal around him on the top deck melted twisted from the hits. "Get your guns, you bastards! Fight! Fight!" And then he scurried back down as a hail of shots whizzed past his head.

Portholes opened and slavers began firing back. Rebels took cover, and then they covered their eyes as pulse grenades exploded, blasting holes in the sand. "Tommy!" Toren waved him forward. "Go!"

Tommy rose to his feet and summoned his power. Moving so quickly he seemed a blue, he sped across the ground, laser bolts striking the ground behind him as he went. He approached the side of the first landship and slammed his fist into the side. The metal caved in and a massive hole opened up in a cloud of dust and smoke. Turning about he then sped down the line of landships, striking the sides and blasting holes in each one. When he reached the end, he ducked to avoid another group of shots. It seemed to Tommy that the bolts of energy were moving slowly, as if they were moving through glue. He was dodging bullets, Tommy realized. How cool was that?

He sped back down to the first landship, which the rebels were storming. They poured in through the hole, Toren's men and Cheloy warriors out for revenge. Toran was in the lead, pulse pistol in one hand, blazing fire sword in the other. Tommy leapt past him and barreled down the corridors, hurling slavers out of the way. The fact that he might be killing some of them didn't enter his mind. Instead there was the pure joy of battle, the fire in the blood, the fierce music of war in his mind. Tommy tore open a bulkhead with his bare hands and descended further into the bowels of the ship. He felt a slight sting in his side as a laserbolt slapped into his ribs, an injury that would have felled a lesser man. Tommy didn't even fell it, and as he he went the would closed up and healed itself.

Liaka huddled as the back of her cell, listening to the sounds of combat above. Slaves in their pens wailed as the Hungu guards pulled back, shooting wildly. Liaka closed her eyes, as she heard shouts and screams. And then one of the guards was flung hard against the bars of her cell, and slid to the floor. More shots rang out, and then were suddenly cut off by the sounds of breaking bone, and bodies slamming into metal. More guards flew past, bouncing off the walls and sliding across the floor.

A sooty, bloodstained hand gripped her door, and with the screech of tearing metal it was ripped open. Tommy strode in, outlined against the dim light. Liaka huddled at the back of her cell, watched him approach. He looked down at the exhausted, battered, frightened woman, took her chains, and with a single twist of her hands broke then.

"You're free," he said.

Liaka stood, looked him in then eye. And then with a groan she fell to the floor, passing out.

Tommy crossed his eyes. "Oh, Hell."

On the roof of the lead landship, Haukbershar fired a final few shots from his pistol, forcing the approaching rebels to duck. The caravan was lost, smoke was rising from the landships. The rebel scum, they had ruined him. A countless fortune was going up in smoke. He could recover from this, this wasn't the first loss he' suffered. But first he had to survive, and only one thing would spare him from Darhons wrath.

"Move, you scum!" he screamed! "Get that bitch on board." The guards behind him had the massive polished log on their shoulders, and hustled their way up the ramp to the shuttle parked at the rear of the top deck. A gust of wind kicked up as the last Hungu entered, knocking aside the cloth covering. For a moment those who were looking saw a flash of pale slender legs and shapely buttocks, before the last of them disappeared inside.

Hauklbershar fired a last shot and scurried onboard. The ramp closed, and with a hum the shuttle rose, it's shields powering up and deflected the shots sent at it. With the roar of the gravitonic engines it shot skywards, a storm of laserbolts streaking uselessly after. Behind it, the last of the slavers in the caravan surrendered or were killed. And given how the Hungu were hated, few were taken alive.

The rebels had won, and a loud cry rose to the sky. "VICTORY IS OURS!!!"

"Three million in currency," Toran had told Tommy later on, when they tallied up the loot from the raid. "Another twenty million in valuable goods. Not to mention all those poor slaves that we liberated."

"Is money that important?"

"Rebellion doesn't fund itself, dear boy."

They had returned to the Cheloy cliff fortress in triumph, the inhabitants coming out to cheer the heroes. The loot was paraded, those who died properly honored, and a victory feast prepared. Tommy didn't take part in it, returning to his quarters to bathe and rest. He slept the better part of two days, and when he awoke, bathed again, move love several times to Lasteen and Tarla, and rested some more.

Three days later, he was feeling quite rested, and so was awake and alone when the door to his chambers opened. He looked up, and saw the Cheloy maiden he had rescued on the slaver landship. "You."

Liaka closed the door. Her bruises has been treated and a bandage wrapped around a cut on her arm. She looked cooly at Tommy, reclinging on the cushions. "They tell me you are an Elemental Lord."

"That's right"

"That I have you to thank for our rescue."

"I suppose...."

He could see the pain, her spirit had suffered at the hands of her captors, and it moved him. "Look, is there anything I can do..."

She the suddenly knelt. "I am Liaka of the Black Tail Cheloy," she said. "My family, my tribe, was destroyed by the Emperor's men. I have sworn an oath of eternal vengeance against them."

" Well, that's..."

"I ask a boon of you, my Lord."


"A favor."

"Of course. Name it."

She looked up. "Take me as your bonder."


"Take me as your bonder."

Tommy was sure he would never understand this crazy planet. "Look, that's..."

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