FSE

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It was yet the early hours of dawn, the first rays of sun still struggling to forge through the leafy canopy of the forest. Through a simple beaten dirt road, amid soft azure darkness, drove a caravan of wood and iron, bearing supplies of food, weapons and armour bound for the camp of a mercenary company called the Godless Band.

Within the front-most carriage, one more ornate and luxurious than seemed suitable for such a shipment, sat Kirianis Hos Voluk, newly appointed lupine captain to the mercenary band, assigned following the untimely death of their prior appointed overseer and liaison. Leaning into the window of her carriage, Kiria dozed throughout the journey, only occasionally returning to consciousness as they met a harsher bump on the road. As they encountered yet another that threatened to send her plummeting to the floor, she gave up on sleep, and with a heavy sigh, leaned back into her seat, running a gloved hand over her grey lupine features and side-swept mid-length darker grey hair.

The entire situation was not much to her liking. Though she'd yearned for another chance at command after the unfortunate way her last ended, she very much would've preferred a band of regulars - someone disciplined and honourable, devoted to their Imperator. The brutes she was to take command of were legendary in more than one way - savage, merciless and reckless, but also astoundingly skilled, strong, and a hazard to any settlement in their way. In addition to that, her appointment had been rather abrupt, in the middle of night, with the damned messenger getting a look at her in her nightgown. Embarrassment aside, she now had to try and discipline an unruly band of mad mercenaries on an empty stomach and a poor night's sleep.

She sought some solace in her uniform - its decorative linings of white and silver, paired with a cluster of prior commendations etched upon her breast, gave her confidence that her position and higher upbringing would see her through any difficulties. Her uniform carried Imperial authority, and even a greedy bunch of simpletons would have to recognize it, lest they wished to render themselves outlaws in the eyes of the Imperium. And where authority alone would not suffice, her sabre would serve as sufficient argument, although she doubted it would come to it. Mercenaries or no, her tactical acumen and organizational skills would take the Godless Band to new heights previously thought unattainable. Chief among them would be reforming them from a remorseless band of pillagers into a force devoted to the ideals of the Imperium - of culture, pride, honour, and discipline. It would take much work, she knew from experience, but with her near-perfect memory she would be able to remember and weed out each and every rebellious individual within their ranks, and show them the flog when needed.

With her plans and confidence settled in mind, she closed her blue eyes once more. Her one remaining concern was that she would have to live among those brutes were she to reform them, even if she would have her own tent. She could already smell the stench.

---

As the caravan finally rode into the clearing where the Godless Band had settled, Kiria got her first look at the camp. It was in as much disarray as she'd feared - shapeless, arbitrary in its placement of campfires, lacking in defensive structures, with only a couple men standing watch without much order.

The men there were likewise as brutish looking as she'd expected, most of them lacking in armour despite their role as sentries, some even standing around bare-chested. With such disorganization it seemed a wonder the Godless Band yet existed, let alone was considered so formidable. Her own knowledge of their group was somewhat cursory. She knew they accepted no women within their ranks, that they were a gathering of cervines, bovines, caprines and equines, large species all, and that their ranks primarily specialized in spears and halberds, with some rear ranks dabbling in bows and throwing weapons. From that alone it seemed a chaotic mess, though she knew little else of their structure, not even who their top leaders were, or their exact numbers.

As the caravan neared the encampment, a couple among their numbers set out to meet them, apparently quite eager to get their hands on fresh supplies. They hardly looked malnourished, which made Kiria suspect they merely looked forward to the upgrade in equipment. Her first task would be to ward them off and make sure the distribution of goods followed some semblance of order.

She opened the door to her carriage and stepped out unceremoniously, lingering at the elevated step just long enough to signal her presence to those around. With a heavy thud, she landed her boots on the soil below, instantly finding herself a head shorter than anyone else around, though they would soon be forced to respect her authority.

"Rally 'round, men!", Kiria yelled vigorously, making sure her moderately pitched voice carried.

They seemed slightly surprised, perhaps even annoyed, and whether that was because they had a new Imperial official to order them around, or specifically because she was an unimposing woman, it was hard to tell. Nonetheless, they slowly began to gather, their figures overshadowing what little sun could've fallen upon the lupine emissary.

"Assemble in threeline!", Kiria commanded once more, hoping the gathered bunch would be able to fulfil so simple a task.

Amid grumbles of displeasure, seemingly at having to muster at all, they obeyed, forming what could loosely be called a formation. Not quite threeline.

"The fuck are you supposed to be?", one of the brown bulls sounded out in a gravelly voice.

"I am your new captain, and you will address me as such.", Kiria demanded, walking up in front of the one who'd asked. It was proving quite difficult to raise her nose high enough to look 'down' upon the men gathered before her, but it was very much a necessity to elevate herself above common soldiers. So the academy had taught her, and so she felt was right. "Who's the current leader of this bunch?", she then asked back at the bull.

The bull nodded to the side dismissively, directing her many steps to his left. There Kiria locked eyes with a beige ram, impossibly tall and built for one of his species, his arms as thick as one could expect from a regular man's thigh. He stood shirtless and bare-hoof, his arms crossed in apparent displeasure with the situation, yet following orders to some extent.

As Kiria approached, more of his details became clear. A number of small scars adorned his bulk, none greater in size than hand-length, yet many quite glaring, in particular the one adorning his lip. Upon his scalp sat a short tuft of back-swept white hair, complement to his large, rounded horns, one of which was cracked. He glared at her with glimmering eyes of dark brown, a contrast to her own bright blue, the rest of his face deeply masculine, stern and unmoving.

"What is your name?", Kiria asked demandingly, continuing to match stares with him. She kept a step of distance between them, the unpleasant smell of sweat, dirt and old leather quite heavy upon him.

"Dekkon.", he said plainly, his voice booming and deep. His hot breath, on the other hand, smelled of some foul stew, irritating Kiria's sensitive nose. She very much wanted to back away further, but could hardly do so now.

"Dekkon.", Kiria echoed the name. "Just Dekkon? No family name to give?", she asked.

"No.", Dekkon answered.

"No, captain.", Kiria corrected him.

He merely intensified his glare in response. It seemed as though a flogging would be in order sooner or later.

"Well, Dekkon, you now answer to me.", Kiria began. "I want this shipment unloaded and sorted by category. Have the biggest-"

"Is this a joke?", Dekkon then asked in annoyance.

Kiria paused in her orders, rather surprised to be so openly questioned this soon. She'd anticipated problems, but perhaps later in the day. "Joke?", she asked, assuming a tone of annoyance herself.

"They send us a shrill little cunt like you to dirigate us?", Dekkon asked with growing ire.

"I would watch your insolent tongue, sellsword.", Kiria said. "I am an officer of the Imperium, and I would advise that you adjust your tone.", she went on, hardening her posture.

"Piss to that.", Dekkon said with a shake of his head, then turned towards his men. "Gather the cargo by the main tent.", he said with a wave of his arm.

"Yes, Pick!", one among their number, a black horse, called out in response.

"Hold!", Kiria ordered with a harsh shout, but the mercenaries had already begun to move past and towards the convoy carts.

"Get back in your carriage and return to your safe, pampered life, girl.", Dekkon said and took half a step onward, forcing her to crane her head upwards even more.

"You will obey or face punishment!", Kiria now shouted, hoping to intimidate the large male.

"Fuck off.", Dekkon said dismissively and shoved her back with one hand.

Kiria stumbled away a step. Feeling her own choler boil over, she decided to assert her dominance in a way they would truly understand, one that'd demonstrate what an Imperial officer's training offered. Though in order to bring down an opponent of his size, she would have to assume tactics quite unbecoming of such an officer.

With a short leap forward, she swung her leg upwards and planted her boot between Dekkon's legs. The ram double over and grunted in surprise, looking quite shocked as a follow-up punch hit him in the side of his jaw, yet that followup left him barely impressed. Her next punch Kiria aimed at the throat, but this time Dekkon caught her strike and responded with a quick but brutal jab right to her nose.

"Ough!", Kiria blurted out through her palms as she stumbled away, eyes squinted shut against her own will. Smelling blood that now began to leak out her nostrils, she struggled to open her watering eyes when an uppercut to her solar plexus sent her reeling further away. Had she eaten at all that day, at this point she would've thrown up, but instead she merely began to dry-heave in between desperate gasps for air.

"Dumb bitch. Tha' fuggin' hurt!", Dekkon growled angrily. He grabbed her by the collar of her uniform and kneed her between the legs, granting her a taste of what he was still suffering through.

Kiria's urge to vomit amplified, the pain in her groin an excruciating new experience to her. Bloodied, gasping for air and in severe agony, she felt ready to drop to the floor, no longer able to think of anything other than escaping further harm. Dekkon seemed to have heard her unspoken pleas, as he threw her belly-first to the ground, her uniform now thoroughly tarnished by blood and soil alike. Before she could feel too much at ease, however, she felt the ram's full weight press down on her back, pinning her to the floor.

"Stay down.", Dekkon hissed, gripping his groin in annoyance as he awaited the pain to die down.

"I'm... an officer...", Kiria struggled to gasp out.

At that point, Dekkon growled again and moved lower. Much to Kiria's panic, he reached down and began to undo her belt.

"Wha-! Stop!", Kiria exclaimed, but fell ignored, her feeble struggle useless against the ram's great bulk. Her face turned a bright red, she began to grasp at her trousers, fighting the opposing pull, but her grip couldn't match Dekkon's strength, and she quickly felt the cold wind upon her rear and intimate parts.

"In this band, this is all you're worth.", Dekkon snarled and grabbed her by the groin. Kiria's entire form convulsed in response to the unwanted and rough touch, the privacy of her sex violated without regard for her rank or status. "Here all you are is a snatch. The only lips we care to see parted on you are the ones between your legs.", he said and shoved a finger in.

"Agh!", Kiria gasped out in shock.

"You want to stay, then best make yourself useful.", Dekkon said and began to undo his own pants. His dick soon sprung free, already semi-rigid and eager to nestle itself between the wolfess' folds. Though Kiria couldn't see it, she very much sensed its warmth hovering over her.

"N-no!", Kiria protested once more, desperately trying to cover her hole from intrusion, but the ram pried her arms away with little effort.

"Lie still!", Dekkon growled, but Kiria only strengthened her futile efforts. "Submit or struggle, I'm emptying my balls in you.", he added dismissively, then slowly pushed himself in, his member spreading Kiria's insides with little regard for her comfort.

"Ooough!", Kiria sounded out in shame, a realization coming over her that it was now impossible for her to prevent what was to come, and she could only grit her teeth in impotent anger. All she could focus on anymore was the overwhelming stench of sweat, musk and bad breath, and the sensations flooding in from between her legs. She couldn't even begin to accept the thought that a savage such as this may impregnate her.

With his cock in place, Dekkon began to steadily pick up pace in his thrusts, his hands continuing to hold Kiria's in place until he finally felt confident enough to unleash them and instead begin groping around her chest and muzzle. Kiria felt no will left in her to fight back, and simply endured, bracing herself against the ground below while the male over her continued to pant and grunt. She felt the stink of his sweat and sexual odours seeping over her like a foul inescapable blight, his fingers occasionally threatening to turn smells into taste as they attempted to pry into her mouth.

Her mind filled only with disgust and hatred, just briefly did she raise her head to realize they now had a gathering of spectators around them, some among them smiling with malice at how their leader asserted himself against Imperial authority. She would make sure to remember each and every one of them. Sooner or later, they would taste the lash for this, and Dekkon himself would hang, preferably with those large balls, currently slapping against her sex, parted from body and shoved down his throat.

With the soreness of her rear parts beginning to weigh upon her mind, Kiria's thoughts turned from vengeance to simple hopes of the ordeal being over soon. Quickening his pace and increasingly giving voice to his satisfaction, Dekkon seemingly neared an answer to her pleas. With a sudden stop and shudder of his entire form, the ram's manhood began to pulse hard within her depths, an uneasy feeling of warmth spreading within as Dekkon resumed his efforts with renewed but steadily waning vigour. Within a couple more thrusts, the ordeal came to a merciful end.

Feeling spent, the ram draped himself over the wolfess, bringing his mouth close to her ear. "I hope you've learned your lesson, cunt.", he whispered, his breath even more pervasive and unpleasant. "Be a decent mother to my pups and go home.", he said.

Stewing in contempt, Kiria said nothing for a while, but his words steadily brought her nerves to a boil once more. "Fuck you.", she hissed.

Dekkon sighed, then braced himself to pull out. "It's you who's getting fucked.", he said as he slid out and got up. He walked up to her front and briefly crouched down, only to plant his wet, dripping cock upon her muzzle.

"Blergh!", Kiria exclaimed, trying to evade the revolting veiny prick, but Dekkon grabbed her by the jaw and made sure to thoroughly wipe his member clean using her face. The musty smell of his cum and masculinity would linger in her mind for eternity.

Dekkon then got up, leaving the wolfess on the floor, thoroughly violated and humiliated. "Give her a proper welcome, boys!", he shouted out as he stowed his dick and walked away. Kiria's heart froze in horror as she realized what he'd meant. "Spare the uniform, though.", he added.

Even as she scrambled to get back up, the strew of semi-indecent men began to close in upon her. She got no farther than her knees before the first of them grabbed hold of her and started to strip her nude, her limbs of limited use against the many strong hands gripping and pulling at her clothes.

She wanted to scream, but felt too exhausted to let out much more than a whimper as her violation began anew.