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Battle for the Valley Part 2 For HandofBlades By Draconicon

A harsh interrogation - with a pleasurable ending - later, Argo had his answers. Frustrating, annoying answers, but answers, nonetheless.

Weakness...who would have thought they could turn weakness to strength...

The wolf sat above the pit that they'd dug out for the prisoner, the mare gasping down below as she oozed his seed and her juices into the mud beneath her. He hoped that she'd be in that state for a while, but with the other surprises that the Imperial creatures had thrown at him, he supposed that there was no knowing for sure.

From all that he'd been able to get out of her, the Imperials approached the pleasure of the greenstone differently than his tribal members did. The warriors fought the effects, throwing themselves against it, proving their power and stamina with every strike from the greenstone that they felt. The strongest could go for almost half a dozen strikes before they reached their first orgasm. His best had been eight.

The Imperials, on the other hand, embraced it. They allowed the pleasure to take them down, allowed it to send them falling to the earth. It was weakness, in his eyes, but they had turned it around.

By not fighting it, the mare had explained, they recovered quicker. The more the warriors fought it, the more edged and pent-up they became, until they finally exploded with pleasure and lost most of their stamina in the process. Argo had seen it in battle, with his men managing to get up maybe once after their first explosion, their ferocity drained, far weaker than they had been at the start of the battle.

By contrast, the Imperials were able to get up and fight, barely diminished. In some cases, they were even more energized, having spent the bit of distraction that had been building up, and now they fought harder. They didn't need the purified greenstone to fight like he and his people did, because they were so used to just falling into pleasure and dragging themselves back out of it.

If that was the case, it meant that the war against them was going to be much harder to win.

Argo glared down at the mare again, cursing her as if she was the one that had brought the situation upon him. The wolf wanted to jump down there again, to teach her a lesson for daring to defy the conventions of war in the north. He wanted to rip her a new one, to destroy her, to make her break under the power of greenstone and his cock, to turn her into nothing but a mindless toy.

But...he didn't have the time.

Two battles lost, and driven back from the southern edge of the valley...

The small force of Imperials had been far more effective than he could have ever imagined, and now, they held his wolves and many foxes, as well as most of the coyote tribe under their control. The warriors would hold out for as long as they could, but with the way that the Imperials were so efficient in war, he wondered how long it would take before they were broken to slavery?

Argo slammed his fist down on the stump. This was not how this was supposed to go. They should have been repelled at the bottleneck, forced back to their lands. Now, he had to fight them on the fields, had to push them back when there was no clear advantage for his people.

As he stewed in his own rage, he heard the sound of footsteps. He looked up, saw Feni walking towards him. The bare-breasted vixen paused as he looked up, but continued her advance when he nodded his permission.

"You just keep bringing me more bad news. What now, hmm? Is there a fire? Have the tribes decided to run off? Are you going to try and kill me?" he asked, only half-kidding with the last one.

"I wouldn't have saved you if I wanted you dead."

"No, but everywhere you go, bad news seems to follow."

The vixen said nothing to that, moving to sit on the ground beside him. He sighed, looking up at the sky, and she did the same.

They sat in silence for a stretch of minutes. He didn't know what was going through her head, but he knew what was going through his. His failure to fight and win. The brown wolf had united the tribes of the valley beneath his banner through war, through conquest, through his own insatiable nature. He had rutted a dozen men into the ground, bred just as many females to show what his power was. He had endured the greenstone trials, holding back against its power and showing that he was greater, stronger than any of the other chieftains.

And yet, for all that, he had lost in his first battle against the Imperials, and then had been tricked by them in the second. He had failed in every way to keep them from pushing into the valley, and he had no idea if he would be able to dislodge them from the foothold they'd already gotten.

He sighed, only to jerk slightly as he felt a touch of pleasure. The wolf glanced down, seeing Feni's finger glinting with a greenstone ring. She'd tapped it to his thigh, rubbing it slowly, and it sent a gradual pulse up his leg to his sheath.

"What is the meaning of this?" he growled from deep in his chest.

"A reminder."

"Of what?"

"Of the fact that you're in charge."

"...Hmmph."

"You do deserve the mantle...but you have to listen..."

"Heh. What? To you?"

"If you want to stay free, yes."

"Hah..."

She might have been right with her 'feeling' at the bottleneck, but that didn't mean that she would have had a plan to keep them on the winning side if he'd listened to her. All her advice had amounted to was to not underestimate the enemy, which, while true, wouldn't have made them win.

At the bridges, she had offered nothing, only a bad feeling. Again, that would have meant nothing, only further defeat, further retreat while her 'bad feeling' pushed them further and further into the valley. He shook his head, brushing her hand from his thigh.

"You are useless."

"I know more than you think."

"Then tell me."

"Only if you promise to listen, to do what I say."

"Do what you say?"

Argo got to his feet again, pulling his club from his side and bringing it around. The vixen tried to get to her feet, tried to dodge, but he was the greatest warrior for a reason. He was faster than her, and he was stronger than her.

The club came up between her legs, and he used it as leverage to shove her back, making her land with a thump. He followed her down, the club grinding against her sex, only a vague loincloth keeping it away from her pussy. She gasped, arching her back, her body breaking out in sweat as she fought against the rising pleasure of the pure greenstone.

Not that it would matter. She would break shortly.

"You are nothing. You were the last conquered, not because you were strongest, but because you were the furthest away. Don't get cocky. Don't think that you matter more because you took the longest to join me. All that means is that you have the least reason to be trusted."

He ground the club down again, and she arched her back, screaming as she came. She squirted over the club, over her loincloth, and he shoved it down harder.

"AGH!"

Feni screamed at the top of her lungs, her heels kicking against the earth, her nipples hard and popping against the night air. The hissing sound of her pussy squirting against her loincloth was loud enough for him to hear, and the thick scent of a vixen falling into heat seized his nose and his cock.

Growling, he pushed the club away, forcing the vixen's legs apart as he knelt between her legs. The tapered tip of his cock found her soaking sex, and she looked at him with glazed, wanting eyes.

That was all the consent he needed. As he rammed in, he pushed her legs back, her ankles up by her ears. Tonight, everyone would remember who led this coalition. Tonight, everyone would remember who was in charge.

Morning came, and with it came his orders. The coalition would move north, passing through the lesser half of the forest across from the river. They'd take to the fields north of the wood, set up a few defenses, patrols. There was no longer any guarantee of pushing the Imperials out of their lands, so the best thing that they could do was set up a containment location, a perimeter to keep them from coming any further in. He didn't like it, but it was better than charging in and getting surrounded again.

They pulled out, moving quickly. A night and day and another night passed, and they began the construction of the forts. Rough, crude things, stripping away the wood that lay at the edge of the plains, using them to create pikes and walls that would at least allow them a height advantage, a means of channeling the Imperial forces where they needed them to go. Argo didn't like fighting that way, but he could do it if they had to.

Dawn was just breaking when one of the scouts came running to the central fort, panting and frothing at the mouth with urgency. The horse threw himself to the ground before the wolf on the wall, groaning as he sucked air.

"Reinforcements...reinforcements are on the way!" the stallion cried.

"What?"

"Reinforcements. I was spying...spying on them, and they spoke of...spoke of a legion coming up from the south."

"A legion..."

The word had been passed around by the mare captive that they had, as well as by those that had lived in the lands that were now occupied by the Imperial soldiers. A legion. That was a thousand men, a thousand soldiers that would tip the odds in the favor of the invaders. For now, he and his men had the numbers, but if they were displaced, if this legion managed to reach the valley, that would be done. Their one advantage, gone.

Argo punched the stake nearest him, and the wood cracked.

"Assemble the men! We lure them out tonight!"

And he had just the bait in mind...

Argo stood in the middle of the open ground between the forest and the plains, backlit by the torches on the walls of the fortifications behind him. They burned brightly in the night, the moon slowly rising overhead.

He waited with his hands on the grip of his club, his eyes fixed on the woods. He knew that the vixen and her tribe were reluctant for this job, but they were the only ones left that had the strength and speed to draw the enemy out of their positions. If they waited, if they allowed the Imperial forces to be reinforced, they were doomed. They wouldn't come out just for him and his men, not now that they had a foothold. They would defend it...

Unless they had something to chase.

Feni and her people were marked with enough greenstone to make them smell like bitches in heat, to make them just on the verge of being unable to fight. They were taunting, desperate women and men, at this point, eager to be rutted by anything with a cock, eager to give anything with a hole a pounding.

Now, if that bitch can just deliver...

He clenched his fists harder on the edge of his club, waiting as he stared at the forest. They had to be coming out soon. The foxes had departed almost an hour ago, all of them, and they couldn't have been caught to a one. One of them had to have made his or her way to the enemy and back. If nothing else, they should have had a report of a failed mission...

But there was nothing.

Something's wrong...

Yet, what else could they do but wait? Going through the plains was the only way north into the valley. The river rushed by them on the side, moving too fast for any canoe to push through, and the wind was not on the side of any sail. No. The Imperials had to come up through the plains, had to meet them before the forts.

But where were they?

Argo clenched his teeth, tapping a finger to the club to draw some of the distracting pleasure into his body. His cock jerked in his sheath, the tip rising out, pre flowing from the tip and warming him in the cold winds. Where were they? Were -

There. A flash of red and orange, white and black. The vixen chieftain was running from the woods, her legs soaked, her mouth open wide as she panted. Other foxes came with them, and behind them came -

Yes. The Imperials. Not in formation this time, but running wild. He grinned as he saw them break their formation, pushing forward out of the trees, entering the open land.

"Now's our chance..."

Argo couldn't help but smirk slightly, though, standing there like the cock of the walk as he watched the tribe of sluts come for him. His plan had worked. His plan, not hers. Now, they were helpless.

He let the vixens draw them out, pulling the enemy more than halfway from the forest, and then called the charge. With a howl, he threw his club over his head, and then pointed it toward the enemy. His remaining wolves surged from the forts, and other species - his few stallions and mares, his boars and sows, his moles, his serpents - surged forward. The forts were manned with a few smaller species, armed with the slings and stones that the foxes had used before, relying on the walls to hold out against anything that came for them.

With a roar and a wail and a shriek of all things, the warriors of the valley plunged on the maddened soldiers of the south. Argo led the charge, and he was the first to collide with them.

His first opponent was another wolf, a dark-furred one that had no chance against him. He laughed as he brought his club down, smashing one leg out of the way. The canine fell to his knees, screaming in pleasure, knocked out of the fight for the moment. With no formation to back him up, there was nothing to rescue him.

Argo went to his knees, grabbing the wolf's tail with his free hand. The Imperial canine yelped as he was suddenly repositioned, his eyes wide as his ass was suddenly on display. Despite that, it puckered, begging for a cock.

Argo obliged him.

A sudden yelp split the air as he rammed himself inside, rutting that hole, pushing the Imperial down to the ground. He held one hand against the wolf's tail, the other against his club, forcing it down against the soldier's neck. One pulse, two, three, the greenstone burning through the officer as Argo rutted him like the bitch that he was.

Constant pressure, constant pleasure. There was no escape from that, even for the treacherous, sneaky Imperials. He grinned as he felt the spasming of the smaller wolf's body under him, the constant milking tug on his cock.

All around him, the other warriors were taking their turn. A snake woman slapped a cheetah's blade aside, holding her greenstone knife to his neck and coiling around him. His cock was hard as could be, pulsing perpetually into her slit as she held him in her tail.

Another warrior had taken one of the Imperial women, holding the feral-cunted bitch down and fucking her with a slippery, curly shaft. The boar wheezed over her, taking her and filling her with enough dick to get her pregnant a dozen times over.

Argo knew that there was no chance to take it slow. He had to cum, had to mark this slut and move on to the next. He grunted as he slammed his cock in and out, in and out, his knot almost popping in more than once. The Imperial soldier pushed back, too, almost as if he was trying to encourage that knot, as if he was trying to get it to sink in.

Fucking...slut...

It was almost tempting to lock his knot inside, but there was still a war to win. He pushed himself over the edge with his club, cumming hard, and he felt the wolf beneath him cum for the seventh time in a row.

As he pulled out, the wolf collapsed, the Imperial completely out of the fight. All for the best, he thought, better than what it could be by a long shot.

Looking up, he saw the remaining soldiers starting to pull back to formation. Of the hundred-plus that they'd lured from the woods, many had been taken down in the first attack. They'd been dropped to forty soldiers, barely making a column formation. Their lines were thin, and Argo grinned at the thought of putting them in their place. Finally, they would know the power of the valley warriors.

He howled as he lunged forward, the unsated warriors of his coalition charging with him. He held his club high, grinning wildly as he charged for the lines of the Imperials. They were wincing as they saw his forces coming...

And then, they met.

His club broke a hole in their lines, knocked them back a pace or two. However, this time, the enemy was there to meet them, lines that were fragile still lines against them.

Argo grunted as he felt the stabs and pricks of greenstone weapons. Blunt and hard, they forced his cock erect again, and his balls churned as fantasies of pleasure filled him. The urge to fuck, to rut, to take. He wanted to put them all in their place, to feel them squirming under him and acknowledging him at the superior warrior.

He roared in the faces of the lions before him, howled at the wolves, snarled at every other species that dared to stand before him. Orgasmic blasts of seed and squirting juices of bitch lust sprayed over him with every blow, but the formation, for all its rapid assembly, was holding. His warriors managed to snare a soldier here and there, pulling them free, but none were able to break through to the middle of the formation to split it.

Argo snarled in frustration, particularly as he struck for one of the gaps and it didn't open. The soldiers pushed him back, and -

"From behind!"

Feni. He looked over his shoulder, and he saw the soldiers that his men had fought slowly rising up again. Even in their chains and rags, even smeared and dripping with creampies, they were dragging themselves to their feet.

...Fuck.

The vixen grabbed him, pulling him away from the formation. As his warriors surged behind him and in front of him, she pulled his head down.

"You have to surrender," she said.

"Surrender?! We've beaten them once. We are this close to winning again."

"You have to. There's no way that you can win."

"Faithless bitch."

Feni glared at him...and then kicked him right in the balls.

Argo huffed as the air left his lungs, doubling over and hugging his gut with one arm, cupping his balls with his other hand. His air came in soft wheezes after that, though his cock refused to go down.

"You are an idiot, and you're going to get everyone enslaved..."

"You...traitor!"

He lunged for her, but the vixen was faster, this time. She jumped back, shaking her head as she landed a few feet away. The warriors were still fighting, still pushing against the twin formations on either side of them. They could completely surround either side, hundreds of warriors fighting against mere tens of soldiers, but the formation and discipline they had could not be overcome.

They gained a circle for themselves in the middle of the coalition warriors, a miniature arena that prevented either of them from breaking out. Argo snarled deep in his throat again, unable to help his rage. The vixen had been a thorn in his side ever since the start of this war, and now she told him to surrender? To give in to these Imperial intruders? She was mad.

No, she would be a slave. He had not taught her the lesson that she needed to learn, obviously, so now he would have to make sure that it sunk in properly.

With a roar that would have dwarfed a lion, he lunged for her, swinging to take her legs out from under her. The vixen leaped over it, bringing her shorter greenstone weapons down on his club. With a grunt, she shoved herself forward, kicking out for his face.

Rolling his head to the side, he spun to keep her in view, but she turned and struck for him as soon as she hit the ground. He blocked it, but barely, her dagger-length greenstone almost catching him in the crotch. Forcing her back with a firm swing, he watched her land, shaking his head.

"You betray us all. Let me out. I'll teach them what it means to fight us fairly!"

"You can't win! I'm trying to tell you -"

"No! They can't win! We just proved that. Any time one of us fights one of them, we win. Now let me through!"

"Argo, listen to me. I'm trying to tell you -"

The time for listening was done. It was time for action, and she needed to get out of his way. He could already tell she was weak from the greenstone rings and jewelry she'd worn through the forest. It was time to end this.

The wolf charged, bringing his full strength and speed to bear. She dodged, but not fast enough. She avoided the worst of his charge, but he still caught her by the hip, sending her spinning to the ground. His club came up, then swung down, and she rolled out of the way by the scantest of margins.

All around them, the battle raged, his warriors gaining ground, then losing it, then gaining it again. One by one, the soldiers were being pulled from their formations, losing cohesion. One would be pulled out, taken, fucked. There were enough warriors to form breaking orgies, filling mouths and holes, soaking skin and fur and scales.

They were winning. And yet, the vixen thought that they should surrender? Traitor. Traitor.

He finally caught her with the full force of his club, bringing it up under her breasts and lifting her off the ground. She gasped, squirting into the back of another wolf's head, soaking him with her scent from behind. Argo shook his head, lifting her from the ground, holding her aloft on the end of his club.

"You lose."

"No...no, you do..." she panted between gasps of pleasure. "Look...look to the...river..."

The river? No. Impossible. The current was too strong for anything to come. No wind could blow it, no rowers pull it.

Yet, he turned, anyway, his eyes widening.

There, coming up the center of the river, were four great ships. Each one was staffed with forty oars to a side, and rather than wind, they seemed to move forward with the aid of some strange magic that pushed them forward from behind. And all along the railing, he could see the shimmer of light off greenstone.

"No..."

"I told you..."

He dropped his club, and Feni fell with it. The vixen came again, but managed to roll off his weapon, staying conscious.

"I warned you...I warned you they were coming. I warned you that you would doom us all to slavery..."

"Impossible..."

"If you surrendered, you could have stayed free..."

The vixen's words were little more than the buzz of a gnat in his ears as he stared at the hundreds of warriors that were coming up the river. In the blink of an eye, his advantage had been stripped from him. A horrible position, pinned down by two formations that he couldn't disengage from...

It was a trap. A perfect trap, and he was caught in it.

"How..."

"I told them..."

Traitor. He whipped his head back to the vixen, who was only just then getting back to her feet.

"I told them. In return, my people remain free...while yours get the collar."

"You...bitch..."

"I tried. I told you. I told you what you needed to do, and you didn't listen. I tried...I tried, Argo..."

He wanted to take her, to break her. He wanted to take at least one of the traitors with him when he was broken, but he knew that there was no time. If this war was to have any hope, they needed to retreat to the forts, now. Argo grabbed his club, swinging it up in the air as he howled.

"Retreat! Re - agh!"

Feni was right there, standing between his legs, the vixen shaking her head. Her weapon was right against his taint, the other right at the base of his cock, not quite touching yet, but nearly so.

"This war is done."

In the crowds, he could hear the Imperials linking up, the stolen soldiers finding their comrades and breaking the orgies that had been trying to break them. He saw his wolves go down, saw their knots throb, their pussies clench and squirt as they were knocked down by the very soldiers that they had been trying to break and train.

No...no...

"Break, Argo. You are done."

And then the greenstone jammed into his cock, right behind the knot, and the brown-furred wolf howled with an entirely different note.

He came, and he came harder than he had done in so many years. His legs shook as his knot swelled harder and firmer, his seed shooting through the air. Digging his fingers into his club with all the strength he had left, Argo shifted his stance -

"No."

The vixen's weapons stabbed again, this time getting him in the cock and in the balls. He screamed, dropping his club, the weapon landing greenstone out, pressed against his leg. He slumped forward, still howling, still cumming, his cock pulsing helplessly again and again and again as his own weapon sealed his doom.

The vixen kept pushing him, shifting him around. She guided him over it, made him lay over his club, his cock pinned between it and his belly. His eyes were rolled back in his sockets, thought fleeing from him as he kept cumming and cumming and cumming, impossible shocks of pleasure rocking through his balls and cock, making him harder, stiffer, firmer than he had ever been in his life.

And then, she rammed one of her weapons up his asshole. Argo screamed one last time, and fainted.

When light filled his eyes once more, he knew the battle was done. His cock was harder than he had ever felt it before, and he could feel the residual tingle of greenstone down there. He groaned, shaking his head as he blinked.

He was in a wooden cell, one that was moving. He was probably on a boat, then, one that was moving either up or down the river. It was impossible to tell without looking through a window, and he didn't have one of them.

Instead, he had a lamp just outside his cell, and he could feel the heat on his body. It was enough to make him warm, sweaty, and he groaned as he rolled his head to and fro, trying to get used to the feeling of the boat. It felt so...wrong.

Shaking his head, he looked down. He had been stripped of what little he had left. No loincloth, no pelt, no weapon. Instead, he had a collar around his neck, one that was made of tight, black leather, and further down...

The wolf hissed as he saw what was wrapped around the base of his cock. A ring made of steel and greenstone. It was tight and locked to him, the greenstone chunk pressed against the base of his sheath. It was such a tiny piece that it would never get him off, but he knew that it would be more than good enough to keep him stiff and hard for a long, long time. Perhaps forever.

Worse, he thought with a shiver, was that it would condition his body to need it to be hard. The longer he wore it, the harder a time he would have getting erect without it on. Eventually, he would be left impotent, unable to get it up, unable to get even a half-decent hard-on. His ability to fuck would be gone.

Even with those thoughts, however, his cock bobbed up and down, merrily aroused even if the rest of him was not. He could feel the slickness on him, telling him that he'd been oozing pre while he was unconscious.

He tested his restraints. They weren't terribly strong, but the ropes were enough to make it difficult to rip them. He'd need to wait until he was sure, otherwise he would just be placed in firmer restraints when they realized how close he'd come to breaking free.

Argo perked up at the sound of footsteps. A shadow crossed the corridor before his cell, and then -

Feni. The vixen was as naked as the day she was born, but unlike him, she wasn't collared. Instead, she had a brand on her left breast, one that he didn't recognize.

"Hmmph. So much for freedom," he muttered.

"You're wrong."

"You're branded."

"But not as a slave." She smiled as she touched it. "They say...they say I have nymphomancy. I have potential...and can be taught."

"Witch."

"I did what I had to, Argo. There was no way that we could win. At least this way, most of our people still remain free."

"They own you."

"They would have owned us anyway," she said, shaking her head. "The difference is whether we call someone else chief, or if we are all carted off to their prisons."

He snarled, but it was a half-hearted measure. For all that he hated her, he had no more fight left. He had been too badly drained in the last fight to push back any further. He lowered his head, sighing.

"What are you going to do?" he muttered.

"I don't know. You're not mine."

"Then what are they going to do."

"They're taking you south. Us south. They'll train me with one of their teachers, and you...You'll be paraded as a trophy."

"Hmmph. At least they still respect me that much."

"Try and learn, Argo...You might be able to earn your way out of the collar. Please. Try."

He snorted. What little pride he had left wasn't going to submit to that. They wanted him collared? Fine. He'd prove that they'd need it every step he took, every chance he had.

One did not collar him. He was still Argo, the Insatiable. He would find a way.

The End