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Kiria woke with a startled gasp. Terrified and disoriented, the grey wolfess struggled to determine where she was or how she'd gotten there, her immediate surroundings dim and unnaturally featureless. She was lying upon something moderately soft, if a bit lumpy, the texture not unpleasant to the touch. It took her a while to realize she was within a command tent, its interior spacious and relatively elegant given the conditions. She herself was quite nude, her fur matted and clumpy. The realization of why that was struck her like a mace to the gut.

Prone on her side and covering herself with her hands, the memories flooded in against her will - a seemingly endless cycle of sights, sensations and smells that yet lingered upon her. Perhaps for the first time in her life, her memorization skills felt more a curse than blessing, as she now recalled each and every prick brought before her in intricate detail. Over two dozen of them, of varying shapes and sizes, each having violated some part of her.

She pressed her hands against her sore groin as though wishing to prevent her experiences from repeating in her mind, yet it failed to ease the tension she still felt. Everything she thought of herself had been torn from her person, her identity as officer of the Imperium now seemingly but a joke only she'd been unaware of. She remained there in stillness for what seemed like half an hour, dreading and contemplating how to avert further harm within these hostile surroundings.

As she finally sat up, straining against the all-encompassing ache, she noticed something within the dank confines of her tent. Shaped like a person and standing over her, yet unmoving and visibly lacking in features - her blood-stained uniform, looming over her upon a rack, her sabre yet strapped to its side. It felt as though it mocked her... no, judged. Her incompetence as an officer of the Imperium weighed heavier upon her mind than any harm she could endure. To have the rank of captain and her own higher blood besmirched by such common scum reignited her fury.

Rising up from her defeat, she approached the uniform with renewed purpose, ready to regain command of this misbegotten company.

---

Stepping out into the open of night, Kiria did her best to downplay the dishevelled look of her fur and uniform, dried blood and cum clinging to her form like scars. It was well into the evening, few of the men yet up to attend camp fires and guard duties. They sneered at her as she passed, making her way towards where she guessed she would find their commander once more.

This time things would play out differently. She had no intention of humouring them with attempts at hand-to-hand combat, and instead aimed to assert her position with a single all-out duel. It had been one thing to best her with such advantage in size and strength when it came to fighting with fists, but with blades things would look much different. A mercenary only really knew how to fight in ranks, poking and stabbing with their polearms as though fending off a wild beast. The art of duelling was something else entirely, and required a finesse and skill only years of training offered.

At last, she reached the central area of the camp, and found a number of now familiar faces sat upon logs and rocks around a larger pyre. Still half-naked and currently biting down on some kind of dry food, there sat Dekkon, his back to the oncoming officer.

With hand firmly planted on the hilt of her sabre, Kiria approached, looking forward to the chance of vanquishing her assailant and dispelling the idea that she was too weak to lead simply because she was a woman. The others would soon find their insubordination rewarded with lash, perhaps even measures more stern for some percentage of them, just to send a message without crippling their force.

"...and then the cannoneer goes 'Huh?', right before Fourhead punched his head in!", the black equine exclaimed, inciting a round of morbid laughter.

"Wait, wasn't it Slab?", asked another, a brown bull.

"No, no, Slab did something else that siege. Let me get to that!", the horse answered. "So at that point, some prick sounded the alarm, and all piss-...", he began anew, but paused as they noticed the approaching wolfess.

"Pick, the bitch's up.", the brown bull said, directing their boss's attention behind.

"Hm?", Dekkon murmured and turned to look at her.

"You've defiled me and my uniform. Face me in combat!", Kiria demanded.

Dekkon frowned and rolled his eyes. "Sit down.", he ordered dismissively with a wave of his arm, directing her towards one of the logs in front of him.

"I am a captain of the Imperium!", Kiria went on, growing fervent as she drew her blade. "You will address me as such, and you will answer for-"

"Sit.", Dekkon commanded, his deep voice now strong and loud. He seemed ready to do something in anger, and though Kiria wished nothing more than to stab him through the back, it was unbefitting of an officer. Instead, she felt compelled to obey. For now.

Kiria sat down with her sabre still in hand, eyeing the ram with unbridled murderous intent.

"I suggest you forget your childish wants of vengeance and listen close to what I say.", Dekkon began, his words only further setting Kiria's mind towards retribution. "You can stay here as 'captain', and act as such when the officials come asking. But all you'll be truly doing is raising tail for me whenever I tell you to.", he explained, his tone leaving no room for debate. "Is that clear?", he then asked, looking at Kiria as though she was dropped on the head as a child.

At that point, Kiria felt like immediately lunging at him with blade raised, though she knew such an act of dishonourable lethal hostility would likely meet with resistance from those around. Instead she rose from her seat and slowly brandished the sabre at the ram.

"I am a captain of the Imperium. I demand a duel to the death.", Kiria said.

Dekkon sighed in resignation. "And what do I get out of duelling you to the death? Just a corpse we'll have to report, only to then wait for a replacement.", he said.

Kiria considered his words briefly. Though there was some pragmatic thought behind it, she was getting command of this company one way or another. His death could wait until he was brought and tried before a tribunal.

"A regular duel will suffice.", Kiria admitted. "Upon your defeat, this company comes under my undisputed rule.", she said.

"Hmpf.", Dekkon said with a mild smile. "And why would I agree to this duel?", he then asked.

"Name your terms.", Kiria said, confident they wouldn't come true whatever they were.

"Alright.", Dekkon began, then considered what he'd demand of her. "Should I win, everything you own becomes my property, including you.", he said. "You will be my slave, you will go where I want, you will be clothed in as little as I want, you will spread your legs for whomever I want, and you will accept it.", he went on, the worded prospect deathly horrifying to Kiria, yet one she was certain wouldn't come to pass. Or was she?

For a while, Kiria lingered in uncertainty, the potential consequences of their wager a heavy burden upon her mind. Yet she quickly shook the thought. Dekkon was simply trying to intimidate her out of the duel, or at least wane her resolve. She would resist him, and she would emerge the victor.

"I agree to such terms.", Kiria said, standing proud and defiant with a stance the grandest of monuments would struggle to best.

"Then let us test words against strengths.", Dekkon said. "Backser, bring me the fork and rod.", he shouted towards the black horse.

"Yes, Pick.", the black equine apparently called Backser confirmed and ran into the greater tent.

As Dekkon got up, the men around began to scramble, moving aside and well out of way of the coming fight, forming a loose circle around the two would-be combatants. Backser soon came out of the grandest nearby tent bearing two weapons - a military fork and a short iron rod.

Seeing the choice of weaponry, Kiria realized this fight would not go as easy as she'd anticipated, a polearm being a dangerous tool in the hands of the weakest amateur. But given her superior training, she would surely find a way to breach the distance between them, and at that point, she doubted the ram would manage to pull out his spare weapon quick enough to stop her sabre from running him through.

Dekkon strapped the rod to his belt and took the fork in two hands, its two sharp prongs now pointed towards the wolfess. "Whenever you're ready, cunt.", he called out, prompting their fight to begin.

The ram started off by raising his arms overhead, the tip of his fork now downturned towards Kiria's paws. She, on the other hand, stood with her weapon ready to swing hard, as she had little choice but to diminish the distance between them. With a swipe and clang of her blade against the fork, she attempted a step forward, but the twin prongs refused to move out of her way and continued to threaten impalement should she continue advancing. She made a second attempt, then again, but still found no luck, the ram now rotating the end of his polearm around the strikes, making them fail to even connect. More than that, Dekkon seemed to be toying with her, neither permitting her to attack, nor using the moments of advantage to try and attack back. It was an error on his part, and Kiria intended to make full use of it.

She darted forward and low, swinging her sabre in an upward arc. It clashed between the polearm's prongs as expected, and gave her just enough momentum to reach in and grab the weapon's wooden shaft with her free hand. At that moment, however, the fork unexpectedly twisted counter-clockwise, prying her sabre off to side, nearly losing her the blade and injuring her wrist. Stunned at this, the she abandoned her attempt, then stumbled backwards as the fork actually turned downwards and poked her in the chest.

The men around cackled as she tumbled to the soil below, grasping her torso and checking for injury, but found no trace of blood, only pain and humiliation. Fuming, she got right back up and brandished her sabre with renewed intent. She decided she would require a new strategy to get past the long weapon, though it would require the ram to be baited into aiming low enough.

Moving in with her torso leaned back and legs pushed forward, she began to swipe at the fork once more. She darted back just as, as expected, Dekkon began to aim at her protruding leg. After a couple more such attempts, she suddenly raised her leg and stomped on top of the weapon, aiming to get it embedded in the ground, but much to her dismay, she hit only dirt.

In a sudden blur of speed, the polearm rotated around and bluntly smacked her in the back of her right knee, dropping her to a crouch. Fighting her pain-induced shock, she raised her guard with the sabre, only to have the fork suddenly surround the blade with its prongs and twist harshly. The sword handle escaped her hand with a sudden burst of pain radiating from her wrist. She had only a moment to fully realize the gravity of her error, when Dekkon's hoof made hard contact with her sternum.

"Ugh!", Kiria bellowed as she collapsed to the floor like a rag, gasping for air and clutching her chest. Her mind reeled against the reality of what'd just happened, as did her body, thrashing and turning to the side in an effort to ease her agony.

"Dumb pampered girl.", Dekkon began, discarding his greater weapon as he approached. "You raise weapon of status against one of war.", he said, then lowered himself onto her. "Didn't even have to draw a sidearm.", he added as the rod joined the fork on the ground.

Only briefly did she struggle this time around, the humiliating duel having robbed her of most of her strength and will. By her own doing, she had no further recourse against the ram's twisted rule, and she had sold away whatever leeway may've remained for her. Yet she had to resist.

She raised her arms to try and push away the oncoming male, but he didn't even have to put much will into his efforts, Kiria's strength just barely above that of a delirious plague-victim.

"Honour the agreement and spread your legs.", Dekkon instructed, but Kiria continued to writhe.

"This... duel... isn't... over...", Kiria gasped out defiantly.

Dekkon looked at her with displeasure, knowing she strained the rules of when a duel could be considered over. Technically it was to go on until one party was incapable of continuing, and unless they openly surrendered, in the strictest meaning it required that they lose consciousness.

"Have it your way.", Dekkon said and raised her head with both hands.

Kiria felt a twinge of regret when she realized what was about to happen, the potential threat to the well-being of her sharp mind a greater potential loss than any violation she could endure. Yet her thoughts lingered for no more than a second, when the back of her head met the unrelentingly firm soil.

---

Her awareness returned to a strange and disconcerting feeling. She was upright, sitting, but leaning into something firm, fuzzy and warm. Though the ache in her head made it difficult to focus, the smell of sweat and musk soon made her realize what it was.

Kiria opened her eyes to find herself seated around the greater fire, pressed into Dekkon's chest, his big arm wrapped around her form. She was nude once again, only this time it felt even more degrading, everyone else around her granted the bare minimum of dignity next to her, whilst she sat there completely bare, yet casual, as though this was the expected norm. A short ways before them, in the dirt below, laid her uniform and sabre, seemingly discarded like refuse, shown no respect nor care. And all she could do was stare at it in disbelief, as though a part of her body had been cut off and paraded in front of her.

"You wake.", Dekkon noticed after a while.

Kiria confirmed with a nod, at a loss for words more meaningful.

"Eat.", Dekkon then said, and handed her a strip of some dried meat.

Kiria took it in hand and began to chew uncertainly. Though it was the first edible thing she'd put in her mouth that day, it tasted far less good than it should've.

"Now that we've settled our differences and established your place in our little company, let me introduce everyone here.", Dekkon began, looking over the men gathered alongside them. Even with the blazing fire, it was difficult to discern their exact features at this time of night. "Myself you know. Dekkon. Everyone calls me Pick, for reasons you can probably discern yourself.", he began. In truth, she had no idea. She could only guess it had something to do with a pickaxe. "The black horse here is Badrin. We call him Backser.", he began, pointing towards the equine in question. "He commands the archers, scouts and hunters. Unfortunately he likes to stick it in his own, hence Backstabber, or Backser. Though he did make an exception for you.", he went on, prompting a round of chitters from around the gathered men.

Kiria eyed Backser with a series of mixed thoughts, yet all of them some variant of disdain for the black-furred equine currently looking at her with a smug smile. To her he was but a deviant and traitor. His length she remembered well.

"Next over there is Alius.", Dekkon then said, gesturing towards a brown bull that barely seemed to acknowledge them. "We call him Awl. Just because he's into pikes. Not the kind Backer's into either.", he said, to a round of laughter from around.

He was another Kiria remembered, in particular the not very sizeable manhood he'd presented her with. For the moment he seemed largely indifferent, staring off into the fire before them in contentment.

"The buck over there is Nidion.", Dekkon said, pointing towards the deer in question who gave a curt nod in response. "Tangle to us, thanks to his 'creative' use of his own antlers during one skirmish.", he said, at which point the cervine in question rolled his eyes, while everyone else snickered. "He commands the shield spears. Dabbles in carpentry when necessary.", Dekkon added.

Yet another Kiria recalled mostly by the sight of his member. Grossly veiny and loose of skin, with a low-hanging pair of balls to match.

"The black goat is Gaffrin, also known as Ballrin.", Dekkon then said, pointing out the next male Kiria already had experience with. "He's got the biggest pair seemingly no pants can hide well enough.", he added, prompting yet another round of reserved laughs.

"Balls mine you no looking.", Ballrin countered bitterly in hideously broken Zernese, much to everyone else's amusement.

Kiria could indeed personally attest to his testicles being quite freakishly large, even for one of his size and species. It seemed a wonder how he managed to walk.

"He commands the halberdiers, which, appropriately enough, takes a lot of balls.", Dekkon added, then moved his sights onto the next man - a grey donkey. "And last but not least, Ceron, otherwise known as Fume, cause even after an hour-long bath, he manages to come out reeking of prick.", he explained, once more rewarded with a round of laughs. "I'm sure you already knew that from first-hand experience, though.", he added to more merriment among his men. Fume himself seemed largely unfazed by this.

Kiria could indeed remember his particular scent well, the smell at that moment so overwhelming she thought she'd pass out. And perhaps that'd been a contributing factor to why she did indeed lose consciousness.

"He commands the throwers. Also a decent carpenter. Doesn't speak Zernese, nor much of anything.", Dekkon said. "There's some others, but you'll get to meet them when the time is right.", he concluded.

Kiria looked over the gathered fire-lit faces one more time. She wished nothing more than to put them all to the lash, yet at the moment she saw little possibility of that coming to pass in the near future. Any notions of vengeance seemed a foolish wish now.

"With introductions out of the way, let's discuss your role in all this.", Dekkon then said, and gripped her right breast from underneath her arm for emphasis, making her shirk once more. "You are now my property. I could throw you to my men if I so desired, but I'm willing to be merciful and let you keep some sense of dignity.", he went on.

Kiria shivered in response, in part due to the nightly cold brushing against her bare form, but more so in anticipation of her fate.

"You'll do as commanded by any of the six of us. Myself most of all.", Dekkon began. "If we tell you to suck a prick, you get down on your knees and do it, got that?", he then asked.

Kiria nodded uncertainly, seeing no alternative.

"You are off-limits to the soldiers. Don't want you getting used up too quick.", Dekkon then said. "But if they do put hands on you, you tell us. Don't try and take matters in your own hands.", he added. "From now on you sleep on the floor of my tent. Or, if any of us wish it, in our beddings.", he went on. "You put on what we tell you to put on, do what we tell you to do. You try and start something again, you'll learn how much lower your position can go.", he then said.

"I suppose I've no say in the matter.", Kiria said, her resolve seeking renewal.

"You don't.", Dekkon said plainly.

"And how long am I to suffer this arrangement?", Kiria asked, already knowing she would not appreciate the answer, whatever it was.

"We agreed to no end. Indefinitely.", Dekkon said, at which point Kiria's eyes widened with horror.

Had she really signed away her fate to this for the rest of her life? Was this to be all she knew from now on? She could not stomach the thought. There had to be a way out of this.

"I... I cannot be an officer of the Imperium if I am a slave.", Kiria said, hoping to find a reason for them to alter the deal.

"No need. Just act the part when someone comes asking.", Dekkon said with disinterest.

"You wish me to lie? To Imperial officials?", Kiria asked in disbelief.

"If you do not, you'll learn what it truly is to be a slave.", Dekkon said, his tone of voice firmly planting the image of a lash and cage in her mind.

Kiria remained silent for a while, desperate to think of alternatives. "What if I were to work for my freedom?", she asked meekly.

"Cease grovelling and accept your new life.", Dekkon said in annoyance.

"I can offer advice. I am a captain of the Imperium.", Kiria went on.

"Was. You lost any and all rank.", Dekkon said.

"My expertise remains.", Kiria said.

"Phah! The same expertise that got you in this position?", Dekkon taunted. "You can offer advice all you want. Just don't expect us to care much for it, girl. Work well, and we'll treat you well.", he said.

Kiria said nothing for a while, once more returned to looking at the fire in resignation. This was now her life, and simple rebellion would only lead to a worsening of her lot. She wasn't ready to give up quite yet, but until opportunity presented itself, she would have to play the part enforced upon her.

"Now, then.", Dekkon began as he reached underneath her rear. Try as she might, Kiria couldn't keep her rump placed firmly enough upon the old log not to have the caprine's fingers slither in between.

"Nf!", Kiria gave out a stifled squeal as she felt her sex violated once again. It somehow felt even worse with her inability to give any kind of resistance, futile as it may've been in the first place.

"Get to work on my prick.", Dekkon instructed, pointing her towards his crotch with his free hand.

Kiria looked at the thick, meaty bulge with unease, yet proceeded to undo his belt with shivering hands. The caprine's prick sprang free, already hard and eager for attention, its smell and visual details all too familiar to Kiria's mind. Fighting the urge to shirk away, she lowered herself towards the moderately sized organ with tongue at the ready. With a reserved lick along the side of its shaft, her first taste stirred her insides. It was very savoury, though the taste quickly turned bland and somehow even less appealing, but also more tolerable.

"Go on, suck.", Dekkon encouraged, both with words and digits prodding Kiria's insides. As much as she hated herself for it, his ministrations were starting to make her wet against her own will.

Nonetheless, she did as instructed and lowered herself further onto the big male's penis and took the head in her mouth. She didn't know all that much about how to do this properly, as all her prior experiences in such matters had occurred earlier in the day and hadn't required much of her willingness. Before this, she'd only heard of the act, and considered it something only prostitutes and dregs engaged in. Yet there she was, her lips enveloped around the prick of a man she utterly despised, desperately trying to please him in order to avoid further grief at his hands.

"Ceglon's dick, you're bad at this.", Dekkon commented. Kiria had only a moment to ponder who Ceglon was before the ram pushed her deeper with his arm.

Struggling against his grip, Kiria began to choke and gag, barely able to keep herself from regurgitating what little there was in her stomach. Mercifully, Dekkon allowed her a moment of respite off his prick.

"Ough-! Gods-eugh!", Kiria sputtered.

"Careful, Dekkon! You'll choke her to death!", laughed Backser.

"Yeah, cunt can't work her upper hole to save her life.", Dekkon commented, seemingly bringing Kiria's sense of pride lower than she thought possible. "Right, back to dirt and spread your legs.", he then instructed.

"Uh?", Kiria questioned, still sputtering after her bout of suffocation.

"Lie on your back and spread your legs. You can speak Zernese, right?", Dekkon asked critically.

Kiria nodded, whatever comments she may've had concerning their foreign accents and mispronunciations a distant concern not worth risking her hide. She lowered herself onto the dry, beaten soil below and leaned back. With the way everyone around seemed to eye her, she very much wanted to keep her legs together, but it seemed only a worthless gesture that could cost her dearly. And so, she spread her legs, fully submitting to the surrounding gathering.

"Good. It understands.", Dekkon mocked as he lowered himself onto the dreading wolfess amid further laughs from his men. Seeing the big ram's bulk near her in such manner made Kiria's heart threaten to leave her breast. His prick quickly found itself resting over her pubic mound, the sight of its girth making Kiria shiver in terrified anticipation. "Heheh, her lips quiver.", Dekkon commented aloud.

"Hah! Knew she actually likes!", bellowed Ballrin, his jeering quickly joined by others.

"For the best. If you're gonna be fucked, best get some enjoyment out of it.", Dekkon taunted just as he began to guide the tip of his length towards Kiria's opening.

"Ngh...", Kiria groaned as the ram's member parted her lips. Perhaps now more than earlier in the day, she truly felt the caprine's form bear down upon her like an avalanche, snuffing out any sense of pride or dignity she may've yet had. Though he wasn't damp with sweat, he yet reeked, and the stench of his breath and sex somehow managed to overcome the normally overwhelming smell of burning firewood.

His warm manhood firmly nestled inside of her, Dekkon began to roughly thrust in and out, bringing himself deeper and deeper without regard for Kiria's comfort, until she could feel his balls make contact with her rear. Gritting her teeth, she tried to endure in silence, but the sensations running through her were proving much too overwhelming.

"Nh...! Mf...! Unh...!", Kiria began to grunt out in steadily rising tone, much to everyone's amusement, save for Dekkon himself, who seemed to glare at her with hatred as though he fucked not for his own satisfaction, but out of spite. She herself felt a rising shame, as the rams efforts were beginning to make her feel something other than discomfort. "Nh...! Unh...! Ah...!", she sounded out in pathetic moans turned to squeals. She wanted him him to stop, or at least slow his efforts so as not to permit what she felt nearing. "Ah...! Ah! Aaah...!", she cried out in disbelief, her body racked with sensations it shouldn't have allowed at a moment such as this. The mock cheers that accompanied her forced climax only further exacerbated her descent into a bottomless pit of shame. She closed her eyes and refused to open them for anything.

With his task seemingly complete, Dekkon sped up his efforts, his thrusts growing even more uncomfortable to bear, until finally he tensed up, his body wildly ejaculating semen within the wolfess's depths for the second time that day.

Breathing heavily, he slumped forward and slowly pulled out, taking pause to look at Kiria's battered, dripping sex with a sense of satisfaction. He wiped his prick over her inner thighs and pubic hair, only further solidifying her sense of worth as nearer to that of a rag than a living being.

Dekkon got up heavily and stretched, as though he'd just completed a short work out. "Tonight you get to sleep in my bed.", he announced as if it were some gratitude-inspiring reward. "But first we're getting you cleaned. You're not stinking up my bed with the stench of three dozen pricks.", he added, at which the others around snickered.

Kiria remained on the floor for a while longer, contemplating whether it was worth getting up for anything anymore. But even her choice to remain where she was was soon taken from her, as Dekkon walked up and flipped her on her front, only to hoist her up underhand by the waist, her tucked tail now on display to anyone before the ram.

"Bring two slave girls from the cages to the bath tents. I'm not cleaning her myself.", Dekkon instructed towards Backser.

"Yes, Pick!", Backser said with a thump to his chest and took off at a light jog.

The journey ahead made Kiria regret her decision not to get up, as she grew quite nauseous with each step.

---

Even with the two similarly nude slave girls working over her fur with brushes, water and even soap, Kiria still felt the most worthless out of any within the tent.

She couldn't help but wonder what sorts of horrors these two slaves could've been put through. They were both lupine, one brown, one black. One looking fearful, one dead-eyed. Both refused to make eye contact and focused on their work.

Dekkon stood at the entrance to the small tent, observing as the two slave girls thoroughly scrubbed every inch of Kiria's body, until they reached an area seemingly most private.

"Are we to clean her thoroughly?", the black lupine asked towards Dekkon, her voice rather bassy.

Dekkon simply nodded emotionlessly.

Coating her hand in soap, the black one quite abruptly forced her digits inside Kiria, eliciting a gasp from the grey wolfess. With the hand running in and out of her sex, it was at that moment, for whatever reason, that Kiria felt ready to cry. She'd withheld tears through every ordeal thus far, yet for whatever reason, she now felt ready to begin weeping like a child. But she would not. She could not. She would show no more weakness that day.

"All done.", the black lupine announced once she'd cleansed her hand, both slave girls stepping away from the now damp former officer of the Imperium.

"Good. Get out.", Dekkon ordered harshly, at which point they nearly ran out the tent. "You get up. Or am I to carry you?", he then asked towards Kiria.

She contemplated her options for but a moment, before rising up to her paws. She had little desire to repeat being treated like lesser livestock.

---

She lied down upon the only mildly softened bedding with a sense of foreboding, facing away from the man who would soon join her. Though he'd handled his needs within her already, she feared his appetites may yet require further sating. Her mind continued to seek some way of returning from her fall from grace, but try as she might, it proved most difficult with the sounds of him disrobing.

Her heart racing, she felt the covers displace, only for the great ram to lie down and press up against her back, his manhood soft but quite palpable against her rump. His great arm wrapped around her side, quite casually gripping her breast with mild disinterest.

"You are pleasant to the touch.", Dekkon commented as his great hand roamed over her front, steadily making its way downward. It was not a very welcome compliment. "Though a bit damp.", he added right as his digits ran over her pubic mound.

"I can be more than just a cunt to you.", Kiria once again attempted to argue her worth.

"Hush. Enough of such talk.", Dekkon said, then forced one of his thick fingers inside her.

"Unh.", Kiria whimpered, blushing at how the touch alone yet continued to rouse a response so pathetic from her.

"Learn to accept your place.", Dekkon whispered in a way that made her shiver. "You'll find greater joy in servitude than you ever did in your futile attempts to lead.", he said, continuing to dig around between her folds.

"Then let me- uh! Serve as best I can!", Kiria pleaded on.

"Worry not your soft little tits. Leave matters of war to men.", Dekkon said. "And you worry about raising our pups.", he added as he pulled his fingers out. "Now sleep. You'll need your rest.", he said and turned over onto his back.

Kiria remained as she'd been, terrified to turn or breathe another word. She was at the lowest she'd ever been in her life, and chances were this was all she would ever amount to. Worse than that, she ran the risk of becoming mother to the pups of... whomever. Too many had spilt their seed in her to keep track of who might turn out father to her child, and tomorrow it would continue. And the next day. And the day after that. And on and on.

Slowly she drifted into an uneasy sleep, determined to find some method of escaping her grim fate.