FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

WARNING: This story, like all the others in the series, contains rape and violence.

Synne was quiet for a long time after they returned from the monastery, sitting next to Lord Hart, ears pinned back as she stared hard at the ground.

The elk sat in his throne, stroking a pair of fingers behind one of the wolverine's fluffy ears as he processed his new arrivals. The two dozen captured Church devotees were valuable, he said, and they would be dealt with professionally. There would be no beatings or mistreatment, he mandated...not immediately at least.

"I assume you're keeping the Matriarch?" The dog filling out the processing form looked up at Lord Hart, tail working behind him, a break in his otherwise flawless veneer of professionalism. He was all but trembling with excitement over the whole grand event.

"She will go to the men who captured her." The elk said without hesitation.

"...Sir?" The dog asked, visibly surprised, tail freezing in mid wag.

"The only reason she's special is because of a title that no longer exists," Lord Hart said, "and besides...I already have a devotee of my own."

Synne took a shivery little breath, still feeling numb. Nothing seemed to be making any sort of sense. Her previous reality had splintered. Seeing her old home so easily destroyed...

She sniffled.

Once the dog was gone, and it was just her and the elk once more, she looked up at him.

"What if the Church still comes?" She asked.

"Then I will meet them," Lord Hart said, and twitched a finger, moving Synne smoothly onto his lap, settling the wolverine in place, "...but I don't think they'll want to fight. Not immediately."

Synne said nothing. She tried to probe beyond the veil of shock she felt, but her senses were so dulled that any sort of effective outlook was all but impossible. Lord Hart laced his arms around her middle and hugged her gently to him, nuzzling into the space between her shoulder and neck.

A tiny part of Synne insisted that she stiffen or resist in some small way, but she hadn't the strength to obey that rogue impulse. It was so much easier to simply relax into the elk's embrace and the surety of the strength that baked off of him.

He'd destroyed the front wall of the monastery, shattering stone fortifications a dozen feet thick. How could she go against that?

Lord Hart held her close, but though Synne expected for a moment that he had orders for her, the elk was silent. They sat together, Synne letting her thoughts calm down into a placid sort of blankness.

It was easier that way.

_______

The Matriarch tried to fight at first. It was her duty, her responsibility to hold fast against the enemy, no matter how strong their position. When she was taken to a stone room, body made new in a strange, surreal instant, she tried to go for the nearest weapon she could see: the dagger in the lion's belt.

They were all dizzy from being transported by the Adversary's strange, eldritch magic, she would have a moment to take advantage of that weakness and kill one of them. Then she would be in a better place to deal with the others.

The Matriarch's teeth were bared. She burned with rage, with fury at what they had done to her. Though she had been healed and the physical toll of their assault lifted from her body, it lingered in her mind.

Had her former acolyte gone through the same torment before being broken down by the Adversary? The image of Synne, fallen devotee, standing timidly by the Adversary's side like a faithful pet, refused to leave her mind.

How had something like that happened? It was inconceivable. It...

It scared her.

She lunged to the side, grabbing hold of the lion's dagger even as the ground swooped drunkenly under her and she staggered in place, vertigo making her stomach clench and her eyes cross. Even as her captors hunched down to ride out the surge of dizziness, the Matriarch could see eyes widening. They knew what she was doing. She'd have to be fast.

Steel dragged free from the sheath and then the lion was groping for her paw, shying back at the same time, clearly alarmed. The Matriarch avoided his clumsy attempt to grapple her, fought through a momentary spasm of nausea that nearly froze her in place, and then she could see the lion's neck, a vulnerable spot yawning open. In her mind the steel was already sliding in, piercing skin, blood spraying-

The mink threw himself at her, his aim imperfect, paws scrabbling over her shoulders, throwing her off balance, the tip of the dagger blade just barely caressing the lion's fur before it was carving past in a desperate swipe, hitting nothing but air.

The Matriarch shrugged the mink off and he hit the ground, but somehow she knew even then that her moment was past, the element of surprise was past. The lion jumped back, eyes wide, clearly alarmed by his near brush with death. The other men were rounding on her and the Matriarch suddenly saw an almost amused intent gathering in their eyes.

She was to be punished for this, she knew, and their method of punishment...

No.

Not again.

Never.

The Matriarch reversed her grip on the dagger, paws trembling, blade pointed to her chest. She wouldn't let them have her. She'd-

A gauntleted paw jolted in, steel jacketed fingers closing tight around the dagger blade, blunting the Matriarch's thrust as she tried to plunge the dagger into her own heart. She threw an elbow back at the mink but he bore the blow with gritted teeth and then all five of them were on top her, wrestling the dagger away, the Matriarch crying out as they took hold of her limbs once again, leaving her pinned and helpless.

The wolf, kneeling hard on one of her arms, shook one of his gauntlets free and cracked the Matriarch across the face with it, tufts of silver fur torn free, one side of her vision flashing white as a stinging sort of ache settled over her left cheekbone.

She was trembling, but not from the pain. This was humiliation. Shame. Self directed resentment at having failed so badly. She wouldn't get another chance, she realized. From now on they'd be expecting her to fight. They wouldn't take any chances.

"Degenerates." She hissed nonetheless, but her voice was shaking.

The lion, the only one not occupied in pinning her down, balled a fist and jabbed it hard into her muzzle, the back of the Matriarch's head hitting stone with a strange, electric sort of numb flash that seemed to knock the sensation out of everything for a moment. Her mouth tasted like metal and when she tried to open it to speak, to call the lion a degenerate sinner, she couldn't quite figure out how the words went. Warm rivulets of blood ran over her lips.

The lion hit her again, lower, ramming a knee into her side, driving a fiery ache into her kidneys, a ragged sob working loose from between the Matriarch's gritted, blood pinked teeth.

"Not so fucking tough now..." The lion muttered, and began to undo his pants.

He fucked her first, the Matriarch trying to twist her hips out of the way of his throbbing barbed member, but that only invited another punch to the face that started more blood from her throbbing nose, crimson staining her muzzle and throat, droplets of red spattering over her breasts each time she screamed.

The lion plunged into her, taking the Matriarch as roughly as he could, one paw finding her throat and squeezing, choking off a cry into a guttural, whimpering moan. He only let up when the corners of the Matriarch's vision began to cloud over and tears leaked freely from her eyes.

Then his balls were tightening and his member jerking inside of her, spitting ropes of hot cum into her pussy. If she hadn't felt enough anguish the first time, this new violation certainly didn't help. The Matriarch stared at the ceiling as the lion withdrew his cum streaked cock from her abused hole.

The fox was next. He'd been the one to rape her first, to sever her link to the divine back at the monastery, and his presence drove a snarl from her throat, consequences be damned. She glared hard at him, but the fox hardly seemed to mind, winking at her as he positioned himself between her legs, paws finding her breasts, pinching her nipples so hard that she yelped.

She shut her eyes when the fox came into her with a grunt, scalding jets of vulpine cum splashing into her womb. He leaned especially far forward, knot grinding hard against the lips of her stretched pussy, and the Matriarch seethed at the sight of his face, contorted with pleasure taken at her expense.

Before she could stop herself, before she could consider that perhaps fighting back wasn't currently the best course of action, she snapped at the fox, darting her head as far forward as she could, teeth clicking together barely an inch short of the fox's nose.

He jolted back, momentary alarm turning to amusement as he realized what had happened. Smirking, he pulled his cock free, shooting one last rope of gleaming pearly cum across the Matriarch's stomach.

"Flip her over." He said, then was stepping away.

The Matriarch knew what this meant. They'd used her tail-hole back at the monastery and a part of her could still feel the ripping pain that had come with each successive violation. Her legs had gone limp and useless under her after that, and blood had run down her thighs.

She thrashed in place, then the jackal grabbed hold of one of her ears and was twisting, white hot pain eliminating all else, driving a keening shriek from the Matriarch's lips as she felt cartilage stretch and threaten to break.

The jackal let go and they flipped her over, her hips raised in a pose of unwilling presentation, face pressed hard into the stone, blood from her bruised muzzle pooling in the cracks just in front of her, disturbed only by her jagged, uneven breaths.

The mink broke her in, wetting a pair of fingers before sliding them into the Matriarch's tail-hole, ignoring the pained spasm that ran through her tail, the silvery fur there standing straight up. She tried to press it down between her legs but the mink held it easily aside, pinning it against her thigh as he sandwiched his cock between her toned cheeks, pre wetting the fur there.

It hurt a little less when the mink took her tail-hole. The Matriarch wasn't sure if this was because she had some idea of what was coming or rather if she was simply sliding into shock. Neither would have surprised her. The mink took his pleasure with rapid strokes, gripping hard onto her hips and grinding his cock as deep into her as he could.

The wolf was openly masturbating, the Matriarch realized, and shivered with revulsion, realizing that sooner or later his knotted tool was going to be buried in one of her holes. The jackal's too.

"I bet you could use her mouth." The jackal teased, clearly facetious, taking note of his colleague's impatience.

The wolf blew out a breath but said nothing.

"I'm sure there's a ring-gag in here somewhere." The lion said, looking around the room.

The fox settled next to the wolf, the tip of his cock poking from his white furred sheath, clearly ready for another round. The Matriarch shut her eyes and tried to leave everything behind, but the conversation was too terrible, the mink's rapid-fire humping too immediate to leave behind. She hurt too much to simply fade away, as much as she wanted to.

"Just tell her you'll knock her teeth out if she tries to bite." The fox suggested with a shrug.

"She'd do it anyway."

"We got the other one to open up." The jackal said with a shrug.

"She still bit me..." The wolf muttered unhappily.

The fox blew out a breath, losing his patience, and took hold of one of the Matriarch's ears, the very same one that the jackal had twisted. She winced, it was still tender and the fox's rough grip brought fresh tears to her eyes as she was forced up onto all fours, limbs trembling under her, side and ribs aching from where the lion had hit her.

The wolf watched this with some amusement, shaking his head.

"You're gonna get bitten." He warned, but made no effort to stop the fox, who stroked a paw over his hardening member, maintaining a firm grip on the Matriarch's ear with the other. He was making sure she wouldn't lunge forward and bite him, she realized.

Behind her, the mink stiffened and came, a half dozen quick spurts of cum setting her abused tail-hole afire. He withdrew a moment later, wiping his cum streaked cock clean using her tail, the Matriarch shivering with humiliated resentment.

The wolf shot up, eager to take the mink's place, and in barely a moment was shoving his knotted length into her cum dripping tail-hole, the Matriarch crying out, paws balling into fists, claws digging into her palms. The mink had loosened her up slightly, but she was so tense that it hardly seemed to matter. A ripple of white hot agony undid her legs and she felt her tail batter helplessly against the wolf's stomach as it tried to withdraw between her legs, fresh warmth dripping between her thighs. She already knew it was blood, there was no need to look.

And suddenly the lion was grabbing hold of her other ear, something being shoved into her mouth, steel clicking against her teeth as her jaws were forced wide open. The Matriarch tried to cry out, to writhe or resist in any way, but she was simply too beaten down, and it was far too late anyhow.

The fox nodded at the Matriarch, appreciating the sight before him, the silver furred fox ready to be used freely in each and every hole she owned.

"Thank you sir." The fox said, eyes locked on the Matriarch's mouth, the little droplets of blood that hung from each of her canine teeth, ready to fall onto her tongue. Her eyes were filled with tears and her view of the fox blurred, turning kaleidoscopic for a moment.

The lion smirked and stepped back, content to watch as the fox pushed his length forward, humping the Matriarch's mouth, cutting off a strangled cry before it could gain any volume.

The Matriarch sniffled back blood, squeezing her eyes shut as her air was cut off, the fox's length filling her throat, tongue forced back by the girth of his knot. He could just barely press it through the ring gag and panted as he ground it into the velvety wet warmth of the Matriarch's mouth, balls pressing against her chin.

When the wolf finished, he did so with a final thrust that nearly forced his knot into her tail-hole, the Matriarch keening helplessly, legs shaking as the wolf's cock throbbed inside of her, a prodigious load leaking from her stretched hole.

The fox hardly seemed to noticed, taking hold of the Matriarch's ears and gripping them tight, taking his pleasure with short, fast little thrusts that made the Matriarch gag and gasp, tears flowing freely from her slitted eyes. He was leaking pre, his cock throbbing, balls beginning to tighten as his climax approached. The lion stroked his cock as he watched the Matriarch's defilement, a vindictive smirk on his face.

She shut her eyes fully but knew that her ordeal wasn't even close to being over. The horrors at the monastery had lasted for what felt like hours, and something told her that this would be similar.

...But even then, what would happen once they were done? What was her role to be? Was her destiny just a continual long stretch of captivity, punctuated by vicious rape?

Gasping, the fox ground his cock hard into the Matriarch's throat, her muzzle pressed against the soft white fur at his groin, blotching it with crimson. Then he was cumming, pulses of thick white seed filling her mouth. She gagged but swallowed out of simple necessity. The fox wasn't withdrawing, nor was he allowing her to do so.

Grimacing, the Matriarch swallowed the fox's load, cum leaking from the corners of her mouth as the jackal took his place behind her, replacing the panting wolf. After a moment of deliberation, he pushed his cock into her dripping pussy, paws gripping her hips, claws scoring her flesh as he set a quick, vicious rhythm, eliciting a pained sob from the Matriarch.

"How do you think Lord Hart did it?" The mink asked as the fox withdrew, the Matriarch coughing, trying to spit as best she could, her eyes streaming.

"Did what?" The wolf asked, still trying to catch his breath.

In front of her, the fox stepped back, cock still drooling seed, being promptly replaced by the lion. The Matriarch groaned and tried to turn her head aside, but it was too late, the lion gripped her soft furred ears as he plunged his barbed length into her mouth, plugging her throat once more.

"You know," the mink said, watching as the Matriarch was vigorously spit roasted in front of him, "...got the devotee to do what he wanted. She didn't even lift a finger back at the monastery."

"Hmm..." The fox vocalized thoughtfully, taking a seat against the wall, cock softening.

"Magic," the jackal grunted, thrusting hard into the Matriarch, his knot grinding against the lips of her stretched hole, "...probably hypnotized her or something."

"Hypnotism isn't magic." The mink looked to the lion for backup but received only a shrug.

"I don't think we should hypnotize her," the fox said, "I like it when she fights."

The fox's statement didn't seem to be universally embraced, but none of the other four men cared enough to debate. Their attention turned back to the Matriarch.

By the time they were done each of them had taken her in every hole at least once. The fox had been especially insatiable, paying special attention to her pussy, his knot throbbing inside of her at least twice, pumping her womb full of hot vulpine seed.

The Matriarch lay on her side, trembling with exhaustion, cum drooling from her abused holes, muzzle and side throbbing, breath coming quick, jaw feeling strange and stretched, like she would never be able to close it properly ever again. She could still feel the ring-gag against her teeth, even though it had been, mercifully, taken off.

The lion was the last one out of the room and he glanced back at her, smirking as he did so.

"Got anything to say now?" He asked.

The Matriarch shut her eyes.

"Thought so." The lion said, and shut the door.