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The Seduction of Seleste

from the world of the mating season

Meleste's Revenge

Chapter 2

Seleste's throat tightened. Determined not to cower, she stood straight and defiant as Belou approached. The other guards crowded in behind him. There were at least three of them, as big and bulky as Belou. One stood a head taller than the rest. Much like Belou, he was brown and had the same dark eyes: he was Belou's brother Yzmor.

Yzmor lacked all the mischievousness of his brother Belou. He was, in fact, quite solemn and Seleste had never heard him speak a word in her life. But she didn't need words to know he had always wanted her, perhaps even more than his brother.

Smiling nastily, the males crowded Seleste. She took a frightened step back and her skirt caught a snag poking from the wicker closet. There was an audible rip as the fabric tore, revealing in part the cleft of her pink pussy lips. Her cheeks flaming, Seleste fumbled to pull her skirt free and gave a small scream when Belou grabbed her skirt and ripped it. It fell away in rags and she stood half-exposed before their probing eyes.

Suddenly furious, MeRorr shook his head and unsheathed his dagger. "She is your princess," he growled, "and you will treat her with res --"

The word was barely out of MeRorr's mouth before he tasted blood. Belou backslapped him and he fell hard to one knee.

"MeRorr!" Seleste cried and glared at Belou.

Belou stood over MeRorr in disgust. "You miserable old fool," he sneered down at him. "The chief gave you the most beautiful creature in the world," he said, waving a paw at Seleste, "and you refused to claim her. Now it's too late. Bind him."

Seleste's mouth dropped open. They weren't! But they were. The guards moved in on MeRorr. Two of them hefted the older male to his feet and another bound his wrists so tight that he grunted. MeRorr glanced apologetically at Seleste before he was marched from the room with his own dagger at his back.

"You cowards - my father would never allow this!" Seleste cried angrily. She stood with her arms straight at her sides, her fists clenched, as if she was itching to hurl something.

"You," Belou said, turning his eyes to the princess. "You little slut. I knew you'd try to fuck him. Guess it's not your fault. Daddy never you let you out of his sight, did he? How you must've suffered each night, wet and throbbing . . ." His voice fell to a whisper, as if he was imagining the feel, the heat of the pink little sex that was exposed to him.

Seleste took another frightened step and backed into the wall as Belou drew even closer. He grabbed her thin arm, and jerking her around until her back banged his chest, his free paw ripped at her shawl. She gasped and stifled little screams as her clothes were torn away. She heard laughter behind her and knew more guards had come to watch as the petite princess was exposed.

Seleste gasped yet again when Belou, growing ever rougher by the minute, took her beaded necklaces in his teeth and tore them away. The small wooden beads flew, pinging off the walls as his grip on her upper arm became painfully tight. She trembled angrily against him as he weighed her breast in his big paw. She felt so small and helpless and weak and fighting was pointless. Meleste would have her punished severely for resisting.

Seleste tried to keep quiet but her breathing was coming very hard now. She stood very still against Belou as he squeezed her breast, first softly and then so hard she cried out.

"So small," he said in her ear. "Small and trembling and, god, so soft. Like the rest of you . . ." So saying, he gave her long neck a hard lick that left her shaking.

"Just take me to my sister," Seleste said through her teeth.

Belou laughed, "Of course, my princess."

Belou let go and Seleste covered her trembling breasts. Even more guards had come. They crowded the doorway, their cocks hard behind their fur skirts, their eyes raking her every curve with a hunger that frightened her.

"I am to go naked?" Seleste demanded, though she knew it was pointless arguing.

"Naked as the day you were birthed," confirmed Belou, "by Chieftess Meleste's orders." And grabbing Seleste by the back of her neck, he shoved her on.

Seleste stumbled forward, wretched and red in the face, her long hair bouncing into her eyes from the shove. The guards stepped aside, and as she passed them into the hall, some boldly cupped the under-curve of her buttocks, others squeezed her thighs, and still others caressed her cheeks with the back of their fingers.

Belou caught up to her and grabbed her by the arm. She didn't protest as he marched her up the shadowy corridor. They passed the many curtained rooms of the hut until they had passed at last through yet another beaded curtain and into the large throne room at the center.

On the other side of the firepit and directly opposite the front entry stood the two thrones of the chief and chieftess, both high-back chairs carved of wood and covered in bear fur. The chief was not present, but Meleste sat straight upon her throne, one leg crossed over the other, in the full long skirt and shawl of a chieftess. Sleek, gray, and stunning, Meleste was pushing fifty, was the mother of fifteen pups, and had the lovely curves to show it.

Meleste's youngest son was there at her side: a small gray pup with his mother's dark gray eyes, his name was Melet. He was three years old and still nursing from his mother. As Seleste was marched into the room amidst the crowd of guards, the pup was seated on the armrest of his mother's throne. His eyes slid to their corners as the group entered and he continued to suck hungrily from the heavy tit in his paws. His mother cradled the back of his head and smiled on him dotingly, but upon seeing her sister so wretched, red-faced, and naked as she was marched in, Meleste smirked and bid her son to stop with a wave of her paw.

Melet pulled his lips away and scowled. "Ew! Aunty Seleste is naked!"

"Hush, child," Meleste chided.

"But what's goin' on?" demanded the child.

Meleste smiled darkly. "You are about to learn what the mating season is."

Hearing her sister's words, Seleste stiffened where she stood. Surely, Meleste didn't really mean -

"And is MeRorr gonna learn too?" asked the child.

Seleste's heart skipped a painful beat: kneeling with his head bowed at the foot of the throne . . . was MeRorr. He was now not only bound but gagged as well. A guard stood over him with a dagger at his throat least he struggle, but it appeared he already had: a line of blood trailed from his temple and into his eyes.

MeRorr also heard the child's question and lifted his head. His eyes met with Seleste's and they were full of sorrow.

"It's not your fault," Seleste told MeRorr. "I didn't mean what I said before --"

"Shut her up," said Meleste nonchalantly.

Before she had time to react, Seleste was smacked across the face. The world spun and she fell to her knees. The blow had been given by Belou. She could hear MeRorr grunting and struggling, the shuffling of the guards' feet, and his cry of pain as he too was stricken.

"But, Mommy," went on Melet, "MeRorr is a grown up. He knows what a mating season is, right?"

Meleste smiled and stroked her little son's mane. "No, my child. He does not. Now hush. And learn."

Melet dutifully cuddled in his mother's arms, his chubby infant's legs swinging.

"Seleste," said the chieftess, drawing herself up, "you have committed crimes against your tribe and its customs. You have forsaken your mating season to be with this pathetic specimen of a male," so saying, she gestured in disgust at MeRorr. "As tradition decrees, you are hereby banished from the village as a lone wolf."

Seleste lifted her head and sneered at her sister. "We both know damn well that this has nothing to do with MeRorr!" she accused.

Meleste lifted her eyebrows and smiled coldly, as if amused by her sister's display of anger.

"You are jealous - you were always jealous! - because Father forced you to marry but he let me have MeRorr!" She dragged herself to her feet, her fiery eyes fixed on her sister. "You could never stand it that I was so close to Father, you could never stand that I was free and you had to assume the responsibility of chieftess --"

"Enough!" Meleste growled and her lips were trembling. As Seleste had been speaking, her sister's haughty expression had slowly changed to one of tight-lipped rage. She pointed a sharp nail at her sister and hissed, "Do it."

Seleste trembled as the guards moved in. She choked out a cry when Belou grabbed her by the mane and forced her to turn her head. "Watch," he whispered in her ear, "as he is broken." She felt the cold steel of a dagger near her eye and knew she would be cut if she didn't obey.

At Belou's words, two guards moved in on MeRorr, whose frightened eyes darted between them in dismay. Without warning, one kicked him in the ribs. He grunted and cringed, but the blows kept coming, harder and faster, until blood was flying. Watching as her lover was beaten, Seleste's eyes watered with tears.

"P-Please," she whispered at last to Belou. "Please ask her to s-stop hurting him . . . Belou . . ."

Belou smiled nastily. "Why should I ask? What will I get for it?"

Seleste swallowed thickly.

"Go on," said Meleste, glaring down her snout at her sister. "Say what you will do to save your lover. Surely you've realized that I intend for them to beat him to death --"

"NO!" Seleste roared, her voice thick with tears.

Meleste smiled at the frenzy her words had summoned to her sister's eyes. "But not before he watches you suffer," she added.

A tear trembled on Seleste's lip before splashing on her breasts. "What?"

Meleste stroked her chin with a thoughtful finger. "What would you do to save him, I wonder?"

"Seleste . . ." wheezed a voice, and Seleste looked around to see MeRorr's gag had half fallen off. He lay in a daze on the earthen floor, his arms still bound behind his back, his muscles bulging, his fur now twisted with dark bruises. Blood was in his eyes. Seleste bit back a sob, unable to bear seeing him so beaten and torn. "Don't . . . do it," he managed. His chest heaved with the effort and he winced when a guard laughingly kicked him in the side.

"I can't let you die!" Seleste protested. She looked to Belou and grudgingly perched on her knees. Smiling his dark smile, Belou stood before her. His fur skirt fell away with a snap, and she could see he was hard behind the leather thong that had been underneath. He was bulging fairly enough to burst free of it. He hooked his finger in the strap of the thong and tugged down. His cock pushed out, rigid and pulsing with veins.

Seleste knelt there unable to move.

"Do it," rang Meleste's voice, "or he dies."

Seleste heard Yzmor come up behind, and then he was kneeling behind her. He smoothed her mane back over her shoulders, in silent awe of her beauty. Then he pinched her cheeks in his big paw, pushing her lips open and forcing her wet tongue out. With that, Seleste's mouth was eased onto Belou's cock. She sobbed around the painful width of it and her eyes watered with fresh tears, but she began to suck, slowly and miserably.

Suddenly impatient, Belou clapped a paw on her head and forced her to suck harder and faster. Her throat constricted, her lips gushed over with spit, and she could hear the enraged grunts and roars of MeRorr as her sobbing escalated.

"Your father would disown you, Meleste!" MeRorr growled. "He would turn you from the village, have you chased forth with sto - ah!"

Seleste winced as MeRorr was silenced with yet another blow. She was trembling all over and could not stop. Guards had crowded in from all sides to explore her body, to caress her, squeeze her, lick her. As she knelt sucking Belou's cock, she tried to cover her breasts but her arms were pried away by Yzmor, who then pressed his paw into the small of her back until her buttocks were pointing at the air. Kicking her knees wider apart, he took her by the wrists and slowly sank himself in.

Caught between the two brothers, Seleste whimpered and sobbed as she was ridden on both ends. Belou forced her mouth even harder on his cock and her thin arms were tugged hard by Yzmor as his thick cock slid in her juices. She was so wet now she was red in the face and hated herself. So this was the mating season? Oh god. Her father had been sparing her this horror all these years!

Belou's head fell back. He grunted, his dick twitched, and before Seleste had time to think, hot fluids rushed to fill her throat. Belou pulled out and his dick was sticky with the web of his own juices as Seleste sputtered and struggled not to swallow. Belou forced her mouth shut, and sobbing behind his paw, she swallowed his seed.

"She's tight as fuck," Yzmor grunted, and Seleste's eyes grew round: it was the first time she'd ever heard him speak. She didn't know he could.

"It's true," Yzmor continued, "MeRorr let her alone for a year - Oh, shit, she's wet --" As if he could take no more, Yzmor pulled Seleste back into his lap and continued to pump into her as she sat helpless in his arms, her little tits riding, her face red and stained with cum and tears. Belou splayed her legs, and Yzmor began to stroke her clit as he fucked her. His touch was so exquisite that her clit was pulsing in seconds, and then, to her horror, Belou buried his face in their joined sexes and began to lick. Yzmor closed his paw on Seleste's tit and pumped her as his cries came weak and gasping in her ear.

Unable to hold back any longer, Seleste began to moan, to wriggle, to cry out. She was sobbing now for her passion, for the pleasure their fingers and tongue were forcing from her, from the humiliation and utter of shame of having this happen before the haughty eyes of her sister, before the wretched eyes of her lover!

God, MeRorr, forgive me! Seleste thought as her body rolled in rhythm on Yzmor's dick. He was so big and thick and slid through her juices in deep, careful thrusts that left his balls pressing against her. He suddenly bit her neck, and she cried out and arched her back, thrusting her breasts forward. Other guards pressed close and squeezed her breasts, suckled them, rotated them, and their licking and moaning rose against her own pitiful sobs, her cries of pleasure and dismay.

Yzmor's skilled fingers gave her clit a firm stroke and, unable to stop herself, her body tensed and she squirted. He pressed his cock hard, spurting his seed inside her, and looking down, she watched in horror as his cum seeped out between her pussy lips. She heard a grunt and realized Belou was still kneeling in front of her. He was watching with a dark smile and stroking himself as the guards licked and pinched her pink nipples. She cried out and twisted away when one bit her, and suddenly, Belou squirted all over her. She lost her senses and started to struggle, her long lashes blinking webs of cum.

"Ewww!" she heard Melet shout happily.

"Be still, stay still," Yzmor hissed in her ear. His dick was still hard inside her - she couldn't believe it! He held her fast in his lap and she could feel the hard press of his muscles as his body heaved to catch his breath. When it seemed as if she would stop struggling, Yzmor let her arm go and his big paw reached down to her clit and gently fondled.

Seleste cried out and squirmed when her clit started to throb again. God, no, no more! She could see MeRorr just beyond Belou. The guards had pulled him upright and forced him to kneel. They were forcing him to watch as she was raped and toyed with, and what was even worse, they were fondling him as well. One guard knelt behind MeRorr and slowly stroked him as he was forced to watch. His cock had stubbornly refused to harden, but Seleste could see that he was suffering: he was slightly hard and on the verge of stiffening at any moment. His pleading eyes peered at her apologetically and more tears rose to blind her.

Seleste shivered when Yzmor licked her neck. He was still stroking her clit and now he pinched it hard. Seleste's thighs trembled and she tried to shut them, but one of the guards grabbed her ankle and pulled it wide.

With her legs now spread even wider, Belou drew closer. He placed his rigid cock against Seleste pink little clit, then slowly began to thrust. He was rubbing his dick against her clit, and the soft firm stroking of it . . . it made her melt against Yzmor. She wanted to die that Belou of all males was pleasing her: she could feel the wetness coming on, could feel her clit straining as if she was once again going to squirt.

Belou leaned down close as he worked his hips and smiled triumphantly at the princess. "You like it," he whispered. "Look at your pussy: all slobbering and swollen. I bet it's so hot and tight in there . . ." His eyes drifted absently to her lips, and without warning, he kissed her.

Seleste's lashes fluttered. She hadn't expected this, but she was repulsed all the same. She grunted angrily and tried to pull away. She twisted, she screamed. Belou grabbed her flailing arm in a grip that made her bones shudder, but he kept kissing her, and then without warning, he suddenly entered.

Seleste screamed behind the kiss. Yzmor's cock was big enough by itself, but to have two thick cocks in her at once? She screamed as her tight little pussy clenched to admit yet another cock. Caught between the two muscular brothers, her thighs trembled and she sobbed even harder. His forehead touching hers, Belou entered carefully and slowly, his muscular body flexing to get inside. He put Seleste's thin arms around his neck, and she sobbed against him as he forced his way in. When his balls were pressing against her pussy lips right along side Yzmor's, she finally screamed. The scream ended in a string of sobs, and she slumped weakly against Belou.

Yzmor eased onto his back, pulling a now-limp Seleste down with him as Belou climbed on top. Belou began to thrust deeply, slowly, carefully, and Seleste could feel the blood seeping wet and hot down her thighs. She sobbed as it was happening, as her breasts smashed Belou's hard chest, as he leaned back to kiss and lick her. Yzmor massaged her breasts and licked her neck, and together, the brothers made slow and careful love to her, their moans and grunts echoing in the throne room as the little princess was crushed between them.

Her face wet with tears, it took Seleste a moment to realize the other guards were grunting too. She turned her head miserably and saw that they were standing in a circle as they observed the rape, slowly stroking themselves, licking their lips, and moaning. There were more of them than before . . . She looked past Belou and her heart stopped.

MeRorr was lying on the earthen floor . . . and he was dead. A dagger had been slipped in his ribs and left there. His beautiful dark eyes stared blankly at her, pained and echoing with a sorrow he could no longer feel. They had forced him to watch as the brothers raped her, then killed him as she was screaming.

Her heart torn, Seleste lost her senses. She began to twist and buck, she punched, she kicked, she screamed and bit. Belou wrestled her arms to the floor, but she kept kicking until his thrusts became brutal. Yzmor fumbled to grab her thighs, and holding them tight, the two brothers slammed her until a pool of her blood gathered under them. Seleste fought through the whole thing and did not stop kicking and screaming until both brothers had come. They climbed off her and left there like a used rag doll, now worn and ugly, and when she lifted her head, her sister was sitting on the fur-back throne.

And she was smiling.