> Rise of Equestria: Heart of the Crystal Empire > by Dr Sharaz Jek > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Only Chapter > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- With the shaky alliance between the minotaur clan and Amazon tribe secured, the bulls were finally able to launch a real offensive, rather than the defensive strategies they'd been forced to employ until now. Their enemy, the caribou, were routed at every turn, their camps smashed and the stolen women, many of them the cow females called holstaurs, recaptured. Each victory sent cheers throughout the armies, arms and weapons raised in triumph with their foes broken beneath them. Redrum, a minotaur known for the hue of his skin and coat that matched his namesake, wondered where it would end with the caribou. Genocide? It seemed unthinkable, yet the warmongers appeared undeterred, no matter how many of them fell, driven to spread their hateful ideals. In one of his people's compounds, where the walls were reinforced to repel invasions, civilians were able to go about their daily business. Many of the minotaurs went shirtless, their barrel-like chests sculpted to masculine perfection, titans that towered over many other races. Their bovine counterparts the holstaurs were nearly as tall, with massive udders to match the rest of their voluptuous physiques, most of the women adorned by cow-print bikinis since they were known to 'leak' their dairy produce on occasion. Everywhere he looked, men carried lumber, hay, and metal, while the women heaved baskets and tended to the flora that were interwoven into the settlement. He wore pants, an open vest, and boots, his snout tipped by a small mustache. Redrum was a little older than most soldiers in their army, but hadn't let the onset of age slow him down one bit, as he relentlessly trained often during his downtime. His battle axe set aside for now, he instead faced a training dummy made up to look like a caribou, complete with antlers taken from their bitter enemies, and twisted his muscles to launch a roundhouse that struck and shook the dummy. Balled up fists and booted feet flew. Sweat rolled down his chiseled chest. He worked the dummy over, while the sun started to dip at the horizon, and huffed as he wiped his brow. One of his ears twitched when he heard footsteps, and he turned. “Nice to see you.” Moon Hammer, a more youthful minotaur, nodded. He'd been swifter and scrawnier than most of his kind, but the blacksmith had really started to bulk up with the armaments he forged each day. “You too. Hoped we'd have time to train a little, but it seems you've already finished?” Redrum shook his head and plopped down on a carved smooth stone. “Just need a break.” “Looks like you could use a drink,” offered Moon Hammer, who shook a bottle at him. “Usually don't drink before the sun's down. Have to keep on form at all time so there isn't another accident.” Redrum tapped his chipped horn, when a squad he was in was nearly wiped out. “Come on. You promised we'd share a drink after I became a man,” he said with a smile. “That I did, son.” With a wry grin, he accepted the bottle and popped the cork. He took a deep drink, then passed the bottle back to Moon Hammer, who swallowed down some of his own. “A nice, spicy mix. Cut with bovine milk for that hint of sweet flavor?” He offered a thumbs up. “Yeah, well, I can't take credit for that idea.” He rubbed the back of his head with a chuckle. Behind the bulls, the sounds of cowbells tinkled. Creamy Canyons and Milky Mountains made their entrance in a natural sway of their hips, buttocks, and udders, barely contained by their own scanty cow-print bikinis. The holstaurs were adorned by small horns that poked out from their manes, and a bovine tail swayed behind their spotted bodies. Both of them beamed at the two bulls. “That's a real hunk of beefcake,” said Creamy with a wink. “What do you think, honey?” “A tasty slab of meat indeed,” replied Milky in her slow speech style, her eyes permanently half-lidded in a sleepy manner, and she practically drooled. “Oh, and Moon Hammer's really cute, too!” “Thanks,” said the blacksmith with a small flush. “You want a sip, too?” “Heehee.” Milky's lazy smile spread. “You boys look exhausted, and need a real pick me up! Why not drink from us instead?” She pulled down part of her bikini top, let an udder flop free with a bounce, the pale white skin lined in a delicate, pink areola, her nipple inverted She pressed her thumb to the nipple, teased it out until it was stiff and beaded in a droplet of milk. “Not exactly subtle,” mused the blacksmith with a swallow. “Subtlety is for pussies,” replied Creamy. “We bovines have needs. You know how uncomfortable these teats become if they're not milked on a daily basis? Worse, our moods can affect our lactation over time! The milk of some holstaurs captured and tormented by caribou turned sour!” “So you need us to milk you,” noted Redrum. “Yes,” said Milky with a whine. “We need firm pairs of hands, and other bovines just don't do it for us! We need someone stronger, more commanding! Someone who'll take charge and really squeeze out every last drop from our sore udders! Please, say you'll help us poor maidens out!” “Do it and we'll throw in the 'extra' service,” offered Creamy with wink. Redrum said, “ I don't know. You two are like nieces to me. Wouldn't want to make it weird between us. But I can't sit around and let a woman suffer, either. Okay.” He shuffled to his feet, and finished off his drink, his taut belly warm with the flavors of spiced cider. “Go on, son. Choose.” “Uh...Milky,” said the blacksmith sheepishly. Creamy playfully rolled her eyes. “Of course you'd go for the younger bimbo. Well, can't blame you there honey, probably would've picked the same in your place. But that also means the stud is mine.” She laced her arm with Redrum's, as they led the bulls to a shack with thick basins. “It's about to get real messy,” said Creamy, as she and Milky undid their bikini strings, which allowed their udders to sway out with a wobble. “So you might want to strip too, boys.” The holstaurs bent over, heart-shaped asses bared when they stepped out of their bikini bottoms. Fortunately, the shack was already prepared for any holstaurs that needed to be milked, the two women able to prostrate themselves comfortably over the basin, like they were ready to be mounted by their stud bulls. Redrum and Moon Hammer shucked off their clothes, squatted down, “Mmm~, whined Milky with a moan when the minotaurs positioned themselves behind the cows, as she felt Moon Hammer's thick erection slide up between her wide, spotted buns. “S-sorry! It was an accident,” he assured her. “I don't mind~,” murmured Milky, who clenched her buns to hold his slick cock between her buttcheeks, tendelry squeezed down on his vein-lined shaft and slowly shook her hips and ass back-and-forth, the underside of his cock rubbed across her soft pink, puckered asshole. Grunts rose under his clenched teeth, as his dick pulsed and small spurts of his precum shot over her wide buttocks, where the virile slime oozed between her buttcrack and settled into her rectal rim, which she clenched-and-unclenched with need. “Please, sir, hurry up! I wanna be milked dry~!” His firm palms wrapped around her udders, and he started with a tender squeeze. Milky let loose a strained moo in response, her cheeks stained scarlet. Jets of lactation sprayed into the basin. “Harder,” she demanded. “Treat my tits like a stress ball! You know we're made to handle it!” “Yeah,” added Creamy, who backed her own ass into Redrum's crotch, squirmed on his bullcock which she also helped slide between her buns, which were of a more caramel color compared to her friend's. “Get in there, and put us bovine bimbos in our place! Can you handle that, studs?” “As the ladies wish,” said Redrum with a chuckle, as he, too, started to knead his cow's udders. Up-and-down, titties were lifted and squeezed in a rhythmic pattern that alternated, powerful palms cupped around their delicious dairy dispensers. Both women released more continuous moans with a shameless moo, twerked their shapely asses around the bullcocks clenched between them, milked out more precum that oozed and slathered across their now shiny, plush asscheeks. Faster and harder they worked the soft, pliable udders over, pinched and pulled on perky nipples, felt the warm, sweet milk wash over them as sprays of lactate shot out and impacted the cleaned and sterilized steel of the basin below. The bulls felt the sows drench their crotches with waterfalls of squirts, sluiced down the hunks, who continued to molest their slutty, submissive sows. “W-wow,” sputtered Creamy between her moans, whose pussy and assjhole clenched hard. “Put it in, already! Pick a hole! I don't care which!” She clapped her ass back on Redrum's crotch, until, with a wet pop, the slick bitchbaker slid into her warm, squishy asshole with a squelch. “Unf,” he muttered, and restrained his instinct to brutally ram her slutty hole. Instead, he rolled his muscled hips slowly at first, while Moon Hammer also sank his dick into Milky's ass, since he wasn't ready to become a father yet, and wasn't certain they'd prepared any contraceptive potions. He too started slow, then he and Redrum started to pick up the pace, and all the while they yanked on milk-filled udders, the basin that stretched before the bovines nearly half full. Their bovine brains melted with pure pleasure, until Creamy and Milky turned their heads to face each other, their faces ablaze with deep blushes as their snouts met in a drawn-out, passionate kiss. The friends had made love a number of times, when a stud wasn't available, both hopeful that someday, they could settle down and marry a worthy bull. They drenched their lovers some more, their asscheeks clapped now that they were properly pounded with brutal thrusts in a blur. “Shoot your loads into us,” shouted Creamy. “I want to feel it all...!” “M-me too,” whimpered Milky. “Use us like your personal cumdumps! We want it all~!” “Talk dirty to us,” demanded Creamy, her face twisted between impatience and ecstasy. A sharp slap across the ass made her yelp. “Good bitch,” said Redum. “Bend over more, stick that cute ass in the air and take my cock!” He usually didn't talk that way, but as his eyes turned white and his inhibitions were eroded, primal instinct compelled him. Gentlemanly mirth was put aside. Moon Hammer felt the rush of adrenaline too, felt a need to dominate as his eyes also started to turn white, his nostrils flared, and steam rose when he snarled. “Want us to break you? To split you in half?” He, too, delivered a powerful swat on Milky's pert ass, which wippled wildly. “Yes! Break us~!” Milky squealed, blissful tears in her eyes. “Mess us up...!” “Wreck our asses,” screamed Creamy, as their deep strokes reached balls deep into their bowels. Neither minotaur were especially dominant by the standards of their species, since both men preferred to keep a cool, collected sense of quiet pride most of the time, but the way the sows pleaded for dirty talk and assertive treatment stirred a baser need in the bulls. They fucked them like men possessed, worked over udders they attempted to milk dry as the cows screamed their names. Finally, they reached their limit. Almost in sync, the two of them blew their loads into the slutty cows, made them quake and quiver and squirt all over the studs that nailed them silly. In the middle of their release, Redrum and Moon Hammer pulled out of Creamy's and Milky's creamed buttholes, launched the rest of their loads all over their lower backs and heart-shaped hindquarters. They mewled in appreciation, coated in their hot, fertile excess of spunk. ***** “A shame I can't claim them for my own,” mused Queen Zafire Heart, who watched from a hole in the shack overhead, the foursome far below. The crystal mare alicorn had two of her closest Amazons, Fluttershy and Tree Hugger, pressed close to her muscled-yet-voluptuous body from both sides, and her palms idly molested the two women, who blushed and moaned in appreciation.  Garbed in a top that showed off her midriff and a loin cloth that came to her ankles, Zafire's nipples were stiff, and the 'stallionhood' she'd been blessed from at birth throbbed, half-erect, its flared tip slathered in precum. She played with their tits, cupped their buttocks, lost in contemplation. Shy asked, “Wh-what about the caribou...?” She squirmed when Zafire rubbed her wet slit. “They've mostly been dormant lately,” mumbled Tree, with her crooked smile and half-lidded eyes as she felt her own cunt explored by a dextrous touch. “I don't like it. Could always mean-” “-that they have something major planned,” finished Zafire for her. “I believe so, too. But we can't waste all our recents to crush every small camp we find. Especially since it would leave our territories practically undefended.” She sank into their pussies with a moist squish and squelch. “I-I've had my animal friends spy on them,” explained Shy between her mewls. “And I've set traps around our lands,” declared Tree, as she rocked her hips on the intruders onto the invaders in her spread cunt. “Don't worry, like, the flora knows not to attack our allies!” Zafire kissed their foreheads with a small smile. “I trust you both. You've always served me well. On the battlefield...and in the bedroom.” She tore the skins from Fluttershy's body, bent her over and took her first, her stallionhood shoved deep into the voluptuous Amazon's pliable pink pussy. Her hands seized around Shy's wrists to pull her arms back when claimed her, fast and hard. Just like she preferred. Tree cast off her own clothes in anticipation for her own turn, one hand latched onto a tit and another sank to her snatch, which she started to furiously rub in lustful circles. She'd sent a few of her Amazons ahead to scout out traces of their enemy, but cautioned them not to engage unless absolutely necessary. She didn't want any of her tribe slain, or possibly worse captured, simply because the Amazons wanted to make their mark and prove their worth. While she contemplated their options, she continued to fuck Shy and Tree, who she traded between. By the time she pumped their wombs full of her loads, the pair of them moaned in contentment. Then, she spread her plume and carried them in her arms, her palms curled around their bare butts which she squeezed firmly when she sailed down to the earth, its fresh aroma splendid. She knew they'd never leave her side for a moment, had she allowed it. The Amazon tribe worshiped her like a Goddess, which she practically was, an alicorn from an ancient era. “Go,” she told them with a pat on their butts after she'd let them down. With a pout, they obeyed. She shifted her attire back into place when she walked back into the open, and smiled at the minotaur studs and holstaur babes while they worked. No  calves were present, since with the caribou still a factor, their youth were spirited away to the safest place possible, a fortress some distance from here, which those in command here often boasted was impenetrable. “I hope that's never put to the full test,” she whispered, aware that it wouldn't matter were a cosmic storm to hit and tear it away into another universe...or wipe it from existence completely. She headed to the designated meeting spot to await the arrival of her scouts. Since that was an hour off, she ate some wheels of cheese and drank bottles of milk her hosts provided her, and savored the exquisite taste. Then, she stripped down and bathed in a riverbank. Glistening crystal skin shimmered in the sunshine, as she'd watched the foursome breed until the dawn broke. Soap suds ran down her muscles and curves. She threw back a thick mane, wetted it down. Finally, she heard the muted trot of hooves. Chezka Windhooves, a centaur with her wild white hair done up in a ponytail, carried another Amazon on the horse portion of her back, Panna Fauna, a fawn with sharply cut black hair that came to her shoulders, and spotted doe fur started started a couple inches above the knee and ended in deer hooves. Two of her most trusted followers. She waved the pair of them closer. “Why don't you come on in?” “As you wish my queen,” said Chezka, as Panna hopped off her back. The twosome removed what scant clothes they wore, and waded into the waters, which rippled as it came to their bellies. The centaur balled a fist over her heart. “Are you ready to hear our report?” Zafire nodded, and she continued. The caribou aren't alone. They have allies that also may not be of this world.” “We couldn't make out their faces,” added Panna, whose brow creased under the short horn that adorned the middle of her forehead. “They wore hooded robes, appeared to float, and most curious of all, they carried these wands that resembled unicorn horns-” “Wait. Could it be...?” Zafire and her bloodline had encountered similar foes before. “Their order doesn't have an official name that I'm aware of, but they've been called the 'Cult of the Nemesis'. Worshippers of the Necronomicon, the accursed book of the dead, claimed to be indestructible. Those zealots of the black arts have appeared across the multiverse, or so I've been told...” Panna asked, “May we ask who exactly told you...?” Zafire shook her head. “Better that you don't know. The founder to the Order of Reapers, who ferry the souls of the dead to the afterlife and preserve balance from the shadows. They and the Cult of the Nemesis are opposed by nature, as the Necronomicon taints whatever it touches. And those wands they carry...they're taken from butchered unicorns, their horns fashioned into weapons...” “Deplorable,” shouted Chezka with a snort, her teeth clenched. “They profane the natural order!” Panna's arms crossed under her medium-sized breasts as she solemnly nodded. “That's the idea, it seems. Pervert and twist whatever's sacred to further empower this accursed Necronomicon.” Zafire said, “Exactly. This is ominous news indeed. This is mere speculation, but it's likely the caribou have or will make a dark alliance with the cultists. The caribou don't care what they have to sacrifice to spread their own ideals, that all women are meant to serve them.” Panna asked, “And what will that mean for us?” “More fearsome enemies I take it,” cut in Chezka with a snarl. The waters splashed when she stomped a hoof and snorted. “We should smash them to pulp before they can rise up further!” “Patience,” said Zafire. “Run in half-cocked and they'll only capture more slaves. Bad as the caribou are, what the cultists will do to our sisters would be infinitely worse. Trust me.” She'd seen the results of their twisted work firsthand. The depravity, corruption, and devastation of cultures. Panna said, “I'll draw you up a map of their movements.” “That can wait. You must be tired after such an extensive trip. Relax, and savor the moment.” She beckoned them over, and they shuddered in pleasure when their queen wet a soap bar and used it to lather up their supple flesh, any traces of dirt and dust washed away. She traced their curves, tenderly squeezed and kneaded the flesh, which she sank into and parted with idle caresses. They mewled and blushed, aroused by the tender touch of the queen. The pair of them all but worshiped her like a Goddess, like so many Amazons that coveted Zafire Heart's attention. Chezka, while feminine, was more toned and bustier, in contrast to Panna's leaner but still well-sculpted form. Both prizes that would draw the eyes of men that wanted to win their hearts. Gropes turned firmer. More possessive. Made her Amazons squirm and moan, their nipples almost painfully erect, the moistness of their vulva hidden by the waters that swished below them, as more soap subs continued to trail down their naked curvature as she molested them all over. Already, her stallionhood swelled and throbbed with new life, her appetites insatiable, even after she'd already taken Shy and Tree at least a dozen times today. Was she blessed or cursed by her libido? “Time to properly reward you. Prostrate yourselves for me,” she quietly commanded, and with a shudder of anticipation the pair of them did so in their queen's usual preferred formation. Chezka turned so that the white horse's ass portion of her anatomy met Zafire's face, the centaur's front bent down and her heart-shaped ass thrusted in submission into the air as she presented her taut fuckholes for her queen's enjoyment. The ring of her asshole puckered, her equine pussylips winked out a massive heart-shaped clitoris, and dripped her lust while she leaned onto the riverbank. “You two were made to be bred,” observed Zafire with a smirk while she patted Chezka's bare butt. Panna clambered atop the centaur, prostrated herself on all fours with her own cute asshole and cunt on display, her smaller ass atop Chezka's while she straddled her fellow Amazon. Both of them smoldered when they craned their heads back to face their queen, and twerked their buns at her. Shifted so that Zafire's stallionhood leveled with Chezka's winky wet snatch, she slowly pushed into  Chezka's husky moans, her velvet-soft, heated, pink walls spread open to admit a size perfect to claim her. The alicorn's palms spread panna's pert buns open, and she sank her snout between the parted cheeks, as she started to feast on her sultry orifices, and Zafire bucked her hips into Chezka. Panna wheezed, “Th-thank you queen...!” She cast back her head and arced her bosom when Zafire made a meal out of her loveholes, all while she fondled the fawn's asscheeks. The queen also clapped Chezka's wide, powerful horsecheeks, which rippled and wobbled under continuous impacts. The alicorn's semen carried a special property. With it, she could awaken the hidden power housed in each individual she came in, when she chose to. But she repeatedly tested her Amazons first to make absolutely certain they were worthy, since were these powers to be abused it could lead to the downfall of the Amazon tribe. She considered which should be first, as she yanked Chezka's tail. While she contemplated the possible consequences of her actions, she nuzzled her snout between Panna's soft, pliable butcheeks, felt their warmth envelope her face while her tongue traced around her asshole and pussy, pushed into and probed her silky, delicious holes with aplomb. The Amazons inhaled her musk while she worked them over. Soon, she felt Panna's lust wash over her face and chin, forced to close her eyes, and Chezka winked her cunt like mad when she, too, drenched Zafire's crotch, until the queen also tensed and reached her limit. Her tip flared in past Chezka's punctured cervix, wedged in place when she started to unload. Cumshot-after-cumshot impacted the centaur's slippery womb walls, as Chezka continued to milk her queen for all she was worth, and Panna also clenched around Zafire's soaked muzzle. She landed a playful slap on their buttocks at the same time, hissed out her own husky satisfaction. The Amazons slumped once they'd finished, sweaty and exhausted. Zafire savored the feel of her erect dick still buried in Chezka's wrecked pussy before she withdrew amidst an audible plop. “Tuckered out, I see. Rest well, my Amazons. I will see you later.” She'd love another round with them, but they were already worn from their trip, and she had her own business to deal with. Their enemies certainly wouldn't be idle. Would those in charge of the minotaur army even believe her stories about the Necronomicon and the 'Cult of the Nemesis'? Many already doubted her tales of the cosmic storm, thought her a madwoman and resented her presence. The minotaurs certainly lived up to their stubborn, prideful reputations. But somehow, she needed to convince them! ***** Days passed without incident. Queen Zafire Heart shared some of what she knew about their potential enemies with an informal council, still met with mutters and skepticism, as some of the minotaurs were split and others wavered. Nonetheless, Redrum and Moon Hammer were two of those present that took her words to heart, especially since Moon Hammer routinely scanned the starry skies with his telescope, and noticed that a couple of stars were no longer visible. Almost like they had been snuffed out. The idea seemed dubious, but he trusted his instincts and shuddered. Just in case, even the most stern commanders continued to bolster their defenses, with the shared concern that the caribou lied low to launch a sudden surprise attack. The moment Zafire heard that the cultists could be afoot, she'd called back her scouts, paranoid they could be captured. “You worry too much my queen,” reassured Fluttershy with a warm smile. Tree Hugger nodded, a palm planted on her bare hip. “Thanks to the power you've imbued us with, we can handle, like, whatever they throw our way. Just order us to mobilize and move out, and we'll finish this once-and-for-all!” Vines around the compound rose at her mental command. “No. We stay and hold the fort,” ordered Zafire. What she didn't tell them was what she dreaded almost as much as the cosmic storm. That were her most elite Amazons captured, and indoctrinated by the cult, their awesome powers would be turned on their sisters... They were far from the only Amazons that were impatient, while more of their sisters considered whether they'd be better off settling with the minotaurs. Perhaps, Zafire decided, that would at least help ease the tensions left between them, and maybe those in command would be forced to let them stay and mix their clans, since with potions she was sure they could be made compatible. “I wonder what a minotaur and human mix would look like,” she murmured to herself. “Will the lucky bride birth a holstaur? I've never understood exactly how this species works.” She couldn't amuse herself with fucking around all the time. No, she needed to keep in top shape, so on a daily basis she joined Redrum, Moon Hammer, Chezka, Panna, and a number of minotaurs and Amazons to train, in the hopes that when the time came they would  be a well-oiled unit. However, they were blissfully unaware of how their enemy made their own preparations. Most of the holstaurs and Amazons taken by the caribou had been recaptured, but they relentlessly put the ones that had yet to be liberated to use. Many women were forced into stocks, or taken out in the open. Guffaws filled the air while the caribou drank and lazed about. Their new allies told them that excess lust, any form of corruption or perversion would further empower them. So their leaders decided they were free to indulge themselves. Their hooded and cloaked allies mostly kept to the shadows, floated about and whispered secrets and information in the ears of their commanders. But most importantly to the caribou, the dark arts they practiced transformed those bold caribou that undertook the experimentation. Their already tall and muscular bodies, almost a match for the minotaurs, were turned into hulks of mountainous muscle. Known as 'Brutes', thick veins were visible across their new, bulging forms. Their eyes burned with a violent fury and drooled leaked from between clenched teeth, visible from drawn back lips on their snouts. Even their antlers increased in size, and twisted into more demonic, angular shapes. Warbeasts were experimented on as well, their mass and aggression also increased, to the point where they appeared rabid, and were kept subdued in a series of reinforced chains. Chains rattled. Jaws snapped. Caribou burst into drunken laughter and waved pieces of meat before the kenneled Warbeasts, their encampment stationed on a mountaintop, hidden away from the view of their allied enemies. Women were kept for pleasure and to be bred, men usually slain. Nonetheless, there were rare exceptions. One of the prisoners, chained in a cramped and dim cave, could see the broken skulls and bones of earlier victims. Chestnut brown, messy curls fell down his lithe back, and his muscles started to turn lean after so many days of starvation. They stripped him naked, often threatening to cut off his penis, but had settled for the horn on his forehead, which one caribou punched with such force it had fractured, the prisoner dizzy, bloodied, bruised. Deer hooves scratched in the dirt, the fur on his ankles matted in dirt. The storm that hit him almost wiped out his memories, but he'd bitterly held onto her name and face. Panna Fauna. The idea that he'd someday reunite with her kept him sane. Like her, the satyr mostly appeared human, his name Cornelius Fauna, hunter, tracker, and expert with knives, before he'd been ambushed. Overconfidence had made the caribou foolish. In secret, he'd carved a small bone on the rocky walls into a shiv, and kept it hidden in his messy mane. Guards approached, and smacked him with clubs when he stumbled out for his daily walk around the camp, as he lurched in silence. “Get the cattle prods,” one of the caribou said. “Oh, and those potions those creeps in cloaks offered us, too! It's time we tested them out some more, huh boys?” Like many of the caribou here, he went naked, always ready to throw down a fertile woman and relieve himself. Their cocks flopped out in the open, some half-erect with tips slathered in precum, prideful of their shape and size as the caribou compared themselves to their fellows. Somewhat bored with their own women, who they'd shamed and violated into submission ages ago, they sought to capture more females, but were down to little over a hundred new prizes between the holstaurs, Amazons, and other women taken from different races and tribes, as the alliance liberated most of them. Cornelis tried not to stare at the women in stocks, casually fucked and fondled out in the open, traded between the caribou that used them, some all at the same time as they outnumbered their female prisoners and filled all their holes. Some whimpered and pleaded, others suffered in silence, or moaned and mewled, as they were continuously worked over with the intention to break them. He wanted to take his shiv, stab the bastards in their junk and make the caribou scream as their pride was destroyed, but he knew in his current state he'd only be able to take down a few, at most, before they tackled him down and beat him half to death, or worse. No, he had to be patient. For their entertainment, a pit had been dug up on the mountainside, surrounded by caribou that jeered and jacked off, more cum fired off into the pool below, where an Amazon and holstaur wrestled naked in the spunk bath that continued to rain all over them. Bets were made, the Amazon trained and fierce, but the usually more passive holstaur taller and hardier. “Come on,” yelled one of the caribou at the wrestlers, as he casually squeezed the breast of his own collared lover at his side, one of their race with her eyes down. “Get the bitch!” The thugs that led Cornelius here stopped to watch. Meanwhile, a particularly curvaceous holstaur was pushed out, her udders and buttocks left to jiggle when she was bandied about. A cattle prod mashed into a titty, and she screamed and quivered when volts of electricity were zapped into her, her cries somewhere between agony and ecstasy while she rapidly quivered all over. Milk shot from her leaky nipples, and she squirted all over herself, which steamed as she was electrocuted. “Careful not to kill her,” warned a caribou as the prod was withdrawn, and the holstaur huffed and collapsed onto all fours with a low moo, which was met with chrotles from the onlookers. Nonetheless, more small zaps were delivered to her tits, buttocks, asshole, and cunt, which made her squeal, moo, and squirt, and more droplets of milk dripped from her perky areola. Cornelius kept his lips pursed. The shiv in his messy curls itched at his scalp to be used. His chestnut brown eyes were shadowed, reminded of how outsiders had always oppressed him and his sister. The same pointy ears he shared with Panna perked when he heard a cork pop and a caribou say, “Time to test this.” The fuchsia contents of the bottle appeared to glow, and steam radiated out from the top with an overly sweet aroma. Hands seized him as it was shoved at his lips. “Don't touch me,” he snarled between clenched teeth and turned his head aside. “Maybe he needs some help,” a caribou barked. “Cunt! Get over here and service him!” The holstaur they'd shocked crawled over on all fours, with occasional short zaps that made her holes clench and more milk leak from her, tears in her eyes when she knelt before the held down satyr. She opened her lips, closed them around his flaccid deer cock. Groaning under his breath when her tongue startled to encircle his dick, which swelled into her mouth, it soon started to fill her throat when she bobbed her head and sucked him off. While he was a nice size, he couldn't compare with the typical minotaur, but she worked him over like a pro, her hands pressed into his hips. She also pressed her udders around his shaft, rubbed them up-and-down, the soft slopes slathered in a mixture of his precum and her milk which shot from her hard nipples each time she mashed her titflesh between her palms. He throbbed, tried to hold back, while she sucked faster and harder. Finally, he burst with a hiss. His loads puffed out her cheeks when he filled her mouth, excess exploded out of the cow's nostrils, which burned. Her yelp was muffled from the cum in her maw when she was yanked off his deer dick by the hair, and he continued to throb and let loose more loads across her mane, face, and titties, while one of the caribou rammed his ribs with an elbow. The wind knocked out of him, the second his mouth was open the potion's contents were forced down his throat. He inadvertently swallowed quite a bit of it, while more ran down his chin and he spat some up, but already he could feel his stomach start to burn, then the rest of his frame. Within moments, after he couldn't cum anymore, the contents started to take effect. His skin softened before his brown eyes, muscles warped into curves, his deep, masculine cries became more feminized by the moment. Within a couple minutes, he practically became his sister Panna's twin, as medium-sized breasts swelled out, and the curves of hips and buttocks to match, while his deer dick and testicles were shrunken away, replaced with a taut, already wet and inflamed vulva. “Holy shit,” said one of the caribou that manhandled her. “This bitch is pretty hot!” She whimpered under their molestation, breasts and buttocks pinched, squeezed, and kneaded, nipples pulled and tweaked, her slit and asshole rubbed and thumbed. She also felt stiff caribou cocks push and brush into her smooth, supple skin, slather it in precum. Already, she felt the potion attempt to rewire her brain, to make her hornier, dim-witted, more submissive and breedable. Worse, whenever she relented for a moment, she was rewarded by spikes of pleasure. “The first dose'll only last an hour,” said a caribou. “Or so those creepers claim.” “All the time we'll need,” said another, who rubbed his cock between her buns, teased penetration when his tip brushed her perineum. “After a few doses, this'll be permanent! Better than that, not only will we not need to waste any men we capture anymore, but we can convert any caribou that can't pull their own weight! At this rate, our numbers will overtake Equestria and put it to heel!” Cornelius blushed and her breasts heaved, her head fuzzy. Suddenly, all the tall, chiseled, dominant caribou appealed to her senses, as she was forced to breathe in their masculine musk, which made her holes clenched with anticipation of imminent penetration. She yelped and came a little when the first caribou cock sank into her slick, velvet-soft pink pussy, pinned as he started to buck her. Hands pulled at her thick mane and short deer tail. Her buns were spread, and one spat on her puckered pink asshole, a cock tip rubbed into the warm, pliable flesh, smeared it with more precum. A dick slapped her across the face, another on the cheek, while one teased at her lips. “Careful,” warned a caribou. “This one's a biter!” “Just let the potion settle for a few more minutes,” offered another, who delivered a sharp, harsh spank to the deer's bare ass, which quivered. “After a few climaxes her brain'll be broken!” She found herself lifted up, a caribou still in her cunt while another slowly drove into her rectum. She whimpered and came harder this time, drenched the muscled studs that chortled while they skewered her from both sides, her bare tits mashed into one's barrel chest, their palms left to wander across her curvy flesh. Each spike of forced bliss eroded her will. She pictured Panna in her mind's eye. She needed to endure this, for sister's sake...! “Time to fuck a baby into you,” yelled the caribou that claimed her cunt. “Bear my child...!” Cum soon fired into her from both ends, hot and harsh, as she felt it fill her new womb. She quaked with more squirts between them, realized this would be the rest of her life, and some crazed part of her brain, partially rewired by the potion, was ready to accept a lifetime of bliss in servitude. They'd broken most of their females this way, and many of the captive holstaurs and Amazons, while the cult members continued to observe the debauchery from the darkness. A warhorn split the air. The caribou encampment suddenly went on alert. “Someon'es found us,” cried a sentry from a watchtower. “It's those damned birds! One of those Amazons can communicate with them, they must've turned on us and spied on our movements!” “That means they know our escape routes,” yelled another, as they scrambled to dress, arm, and armor themselves, and from a watchtower, a telescope spotted the approach of Amazons. They rushed to mobilize on the mountaintop, Cornelius dropped as she oozed out dollops of cum. She wavered to her feet. Everyone was distracted. She probably wouldn't have a better chance. Despite how fuzzy her mind was, years spent to hone her skills weren't lost, and her muscle movements seemed to act on her own, despite how much her physique had been altered. She yanked the shiv from her mane in a blur. Stabbed a caribou in the throat. He choked on blood, while she spun without a second wasted, driving the spike into the eye of another rapist. She wanted to make them all suffer, but knew she couldn't afford to waste any time and left them to die. Most of the caribou took not notice, too consumed by the imminent attack of the Amazons, but a few turned and howled in fury. They rushed at her, while Cornelius scurried towards a slope. “Get the whore,” one of them bellowed. At times like these, Cornelius wished the horn she and Panna bore weren't merely decoration, that she could blast them with a spell to cover her tracks. Instead, her deer hooves made a mad dash for the mountain's side, where a road had been carved by the caribou for travel. Almost there...! While she was swifter, her unmentionables were sore from merciless use, which nearly made her trip and tumble. She corrected herself, but that allowed a caribou to close the distance, and a balled up fists connected with her stomach. She doubled over, almost vomited all over herself. Her shiv arced up. Took a caribou below the chin, punctured into his brain as the bone finally snapped, and another punch connected with the satyr's face. She cried out, nearly blacked out from the blow, and tumbled over the mountainside. Her skin shredded on the slope when she rolled down amidst clouds of dust, a rib snapped as the earth swirled closer-and-closer. With a huff she landed on a bed of fur. A muscular bear in armor licked her cheek. By  now, the horde of Amazons arrived, and launched volleys of arrows at the caribou. Some of the warriors that tried to march down the mountainside were felled by shafts that pierced their flesh, while others drew back to protect their territory, their army divided by the surprise assault. Nature turned on the caribou, savaged by animals and plants alike, courtesy of Fluttershy and Tree Hugger respectively. “Good boy,” said Shy on her approach. “Don't worry, miss, we'll handle this from here! Come on, Mister Bear!” Gently, the bear lowered himself to let Cornelius slide off, before the creature took on a more fearsome countenance, ready to tear apart the caribou. Tree offered the satyr a crooked smile and asked, “Need me to take you somewhere safer?” “N-no, I'll be fine.” Cornelius wasn't certain whether it was a lie. Her body ached all over, covered in cuts, scrapes, and bruises, but at least now that she was away from the debauchery, her sanity had started to return. The Amazon with dreadlocks wrapped her in a cloak. She wanted to take up a weapon and help them cull the caribou threat, but knew she was hardly in any condition to. Maybe after the hour was up, once the potion wore off. Were the battle not finished by then. At this point, it was more like a clean up crew. Caribou commanders called on the cultists for help, but found themselves abandoned, their allies suddenly withdrawn. Instead, in desperation, the 'Brutes' and enhanced Warbeasts were unleashed. Within minutes, the odds started to shift back in the caribou's favor. The mutated creatures tanked arrows and stabs, flesh torn and bodies pushed far beyond natural limits, berserkers that matched the fury of the hardiest Amazon sisterhood. Blinded by hatred, unlike most caribou they didn't care whether the females were taken alive. Bones were crushed beneath fists, flesh tenderized and pulverized, a trail of corpses left in their wake. Likewise, the teeth of Warbeasts tore chunks from their prey, sniffed them out and hunted them down. Despite the odds, the warzone started to turn in the caribou's favor as they counter-attacked. Yet the Amazons refused to retreat despite the losses, driven by their own pride. For every Brute or Warbeast felled, they took at least a dozen losses. Caribou rallied, their morale returned. Amazons were trampled under on the onrush of boots and hooves. “You have to call a retreat,” yelled Cornelius. “You'll be slaughtered!” Whatever the cult had done to the caribou and their beasts, they warred like demons, possessed by supernatural power. “...I think so too,” finally admitted Tree, despite how it went against their code to turn tail and run, especially when fellow women had yet to be liberated from the caribou camp. “Cut our losses!” “W-we can't...!” Shy wavered, but also felt compelled to do so when she saw more of her animal friends butchered by the enemy, her heart torn while they sacrificed themselves for the Amazon cause. Yet she knew the caribou wouldn't hesitate to tear down the wilderness, too! Her hand shook, and she reached for the warhorn at her belt, blew into it to announce their retreat. For a moment the Amazons hesitated, then started to pull back, their tracks covered by more hails of arrows. Unfortunately, the Brutes and Warbeasts rushed to follow, heedless of their own safety. More of the bloodbath continued, as flora and fauna manipulated by the pair of Amazons moved in to support their sisters, pits opened across the earth that sucked in the caribou horde. “Damn it,” muttered Cornelius, who felt helpless. “I need more power...!” Another horn resounded. Reinforcements arrived, composed of the minotaurs and more Amazons, led by a number of unfamiliar faces to Cornelius, aside from one. “Sister,” he cried with wide eyes, while more of the massive, combined armies rushed onto the scene in a stampede of boots, feet, and hooves, the earth shaken, arrows launched from bows and crossbows. Warriors from opposed sides met head on, in a clash of steel and showers of sparks. A crimson-skinned minotaur with a chipped horn cleaved a caribou's arm off with his axe amidst a bloody spray. By his side, a scrawnier minotaur smashed an opponent into pulp with a war hammer. Some of the muscular bulls wielded crossbows, while others carried heavy melee weapons. The Amazons were no less fierce, one of them a centaur, who rapidly fired off arrow shafts, or kicked and trampled caribou that strayed too close. The fawn at her side twirled her knives, tossed them with scary accuracy into the caribou, the blades embedded into skulls, throats, hearts, and crotches, more blades hidden under a short jacket she wore, others on her belt alongside a machete. Most curious of all was the crystal alicorn in the lead, with a massive broadsword in her hands. Her blade sailed down, even the Brutes and Warbeasts cleaved down the middle. Blood and viscera spilled from cut in half carcasses that toppled, and the Amazon Queen targeted the largest threats first, determined to break their defenses and minimize the losses to her own side. Any caribou that panicked and tried to retreat weren't spared, cut down or shot in the back by her allies. Blood ran down the paths. Screams and war cries littered the dense atmosphere. The war moved onto the mountaintop. Stocks were smashed, holstaurs, Amazons, and other women freed. “Do not harm any of their women,” ordered the Amazon Queen, unsure whether they were too mentally broken to be saved, but she didn't intend to butcher their entire race. The berserker bear continued to rend and maim with tooth and claw at the tribe's side. Guts spilled across the earth. Bowels were ripped free, limbs lopped off. Assured the battle was all but won, at Panna's request she was ferried over by Chezka, mounted atop the centaur. Gallops of hooves beat the dirt, Cornelius still at the bottom of the mountain when their shadow fell over her. Immediately, the fawn slid off, covered in a sheen of sweat. “Cornelius? Is that really you...?” Panna approached the satyr. “It's me,” she replied. “Damn it, the potion they forced on me still hasn't worn off!” “You're kinda cute this way,” said Panna with a small smile to ease the tension. She embraced the satyr, choked back a sob. “This is my friend, Chezka Windhooves. She's looked after me.” Chezka nodded solemnly. “Cornelius Fauna. I've heard much about you.” “Nice to meet you. But we'd better talk later,” decided Cornelius, who hissed when he felt his belly start to burn anew and almost toppled over. “I-I'm fine, sis. Think the potion's about to wear off!” Supple flesh turned firmer, curves expanded back into wiry muscles. Vulva spread apart, a deer pensis and testicles were practically birthed from the wet hole, as Cornelius slowly reshaped back into the brother Panna once knew. He leaned on his sister for support as the transmutation completed. “S-sorry about that,” he said, as the effects of the aphrodisiac still lingered, his deer dick half-erect when he shuffled on his hooves and covered himself the best he was able with a short cloak. “It's fine,” said Panna with a blush, her head turned aside. “What's important is that you're okay!” “You never told me your brother was such a stud,” teased Chezka with a mirthful chuckle. She lowered her horse portion and said, “Hop aboard. I can take you somewhere safer.” While they climbed aboard, Cornelius shook his head. “No. I want to help out, too.” He removed Panna's machete from her belt, which reflected the sun's rays on its cold steel. Chezka snorted. “Stubborn, too. Well, I can respect that. Hold on while we ride.” Panna's arms were wrapped around the centaur's midsection, while Cornelius clutched onto Panna. Hooves dashed up the mountainside, Chezka careful to avoid the bloodpools and viscera so as not to slip. The riders shook from the violent movements, lurched whenever Chezka was forced to make a wild turn, and Panna yelped, forced to lean forward, where one of her palms slid and accidentally cupped around one of the centaur's heavy, sweaty tits to support herself. The fawn's own butt was practically exposed from her own thin shorts, and she felt her brother's deer dick slide between her buns when she shifted her backside, yet the brother-and-sister played dumb as his dick slid underneath her clothes, his shaft trapped there as it brushed between her buttcheeks. “Maybe we should've switched places,” he whispered into his sister's pointy ear, but whenever he tried to withdraw he was forced to hold on harder so he wouldn't fall off, and he hissed out a moan she shared in a muted manner when his shaft's slick, red underside rubbed over her puckered asshole and snatch, which slathered his member with the raw animal lust they'd inadvertently worked up. “Guess I should've worn my armor,” admitted Chezka, who'd come topless in the traditional Amazon manner, instead decked out in war paint. “But that would've slowed me down!” She winced when Panna's touch sank harder into a heavy tit, accidentally pinching an erect nipple. The friction increased from the bumpy ride, especially when they started to near the battlefield above, and Chezka reached into a quiver Panna also held onto by the strap when the centaur started to fire off more arrows, caribou felled from behind by the hail of missiles that whizzed out. “Whoa!” Chezka suddenly reared up, front hooves in the air to avoid a Warbeast that thundered their way. Fortunately, the berserker bear intercepted it, and the beasts rolled in a snap of teeth and rake of claws. Brother-and-sister were shifted once more, almost thrown off while they held on for dear life while they reached the mountaintop, and Panna's eyes widened as a pop sounded. She felt the deer dick slide up her asshole. He clutched onto her hips, trembled when he pulsed, and she bit her lower lip to swallow a moan when he started to unload deep inside her ass. Her slick buns squeezed around his shaft, hit by a small release of her own that splashed down the centaur's white horse back. For a moment, two of them were lost to and blinded by ecstasy. “Looks like you had a little accident,” teased Chezka with a thin smile. “S-sorry,” said Panna, as she felt her brother's deer dick still buried deep up her ass. Another wet pop sounded when he pried himself from her depths, and like the last time, when the brother-and-sister pair were compelled by love arrows to mate, they pretended it hadn't happened. “Watch my back,” asked Chezka, as they awkwardly dismounted the centaur's back. “It's that blasted aphrodisiac,” muttered Cornelius to himself, who couldn't deny he'd enjoyed their little 'accident', it also clear Panna felt the same as she blushed and avoided his chestnut eyes. He tied the cloak around his waist to better hide his shame, and took up his borrowed machete. His sister backed them up. Caribou fell before their blades and Chezka's arrows. With the reinforcements, it eventually became a massacre under the Amazon Queen's lead. By the time it started to end, the sun began its dip below the horizon. The enemy encampment fell to ruins, the last stray traces of resistance dispatched. One of the caribou, bloodied and on his knees, pleaded for his life. “Wait,” commanded Zafire. “I want to question this one.” His antlers were particularly massive, and she knew that often denoted the rank a caribou could rise to. “You're one of their commanders, aren't you?” He meekly nodded. “What of your cultist allies?” “I-I don't know what happened to them,” he sobbed. “Please, don't kill me!” “Pathetic,” she answered with disdain. “But I suppose it wouldn't be honorable to slay an opponent that's surrendered in cold blood, whatever deplorable crimes you've committed. I want all the information you can provide. About your army's movements, other camps, whatever you know!” He sputtered, “A-and return, you'll...?” “You'll be put on trial and imprisoned for life,” she decided. “But you'll avoid the death penalty, should you cooperate.” She smiled cruelly, and listened to him spill everything he knew. Unfortunately, he could tell her very little about the cultists, and even less about the cosmic storm, simply that he and the caribou race had been whisked away to this Equestria one day. A half-hour later, after he shared all he knew, a minotaur said, “We should kill him!” Redrum shook his head. “No. Like she said, it wouldn't be honorable. He's helpless now. Question is, Queen Zafira, do you plan to keep him imprisoned with the Amazons or turn him over to us?” “I'd prefer not to have him anywhere near my women,” noted Zafira. “Granted,” decided Redrum with a nod. “Chain and watch him, but do not abuse him.” Grumbles sounded from some of his men, but they obeyed. Very few caribou males were taken prisoner, while their females were tended to, many of them in a poor state after a lifetime of abuse. After a short rest, it was decided they would return home. The caribou encampment was set ablaze behind the army, the night sky lit up by pillars of fire. And when they reached the bottom of the mountain, and put a few miles of distance between it, a campsite was set up. It was decided they would move out when dawn broke, since it wouldn't be safe to march while they were exhausted. Tents were set up out in the open. Guards that included minotaurs, Amazons, and animals that spied for Fluttershy were set up, since any of the birds trained by the caribou had turned on them. Unfortunately, even 'The Stare' couldn't reach the Warbeasts whenever she'd tried. Moon Hammer looked through the telescope he'd brought with him. “Another star has disappeared,” he noted to Redrum, as the pair of minotaurs shared a tent. “Grim omens indeed,” said the red bull, who took a drink from a bottle. A few more scars lined his chiseled chest after the pitched battle, where the medics helped patch them up. “Go to bed. You're useless to everyone without proper sleep. Remember, we set out when the sun starts to rise.” “Guess so,” said Moon Hammer, who fitfully rolled into his sleeping bag. Soon, he drifted off, and dreamed about the many machines he planned to build to better help his people. Chezka, Panna, and Cornelius also shared a tent, despite how the Amazons were usually forbidden to congregate with males. Much had rapidly needed to change with the alliance, at least temporarily. The three of them took a moment to converse before they settled into bed. “I don't mind if you stare,” mused Chezka with a small smile as brown eyes drifted to her chest. “Sorry,” said Cornelius, who'd looked aside. “Not used to Amazon customs.” The centaur and fawn had stripped down completely to sleep, and he wished he could do the same with the murky air. “Go ahead,” said Chezka, like she could read his mind. “It doesn't bother me.” “Me either,” admitted Panna with a mild blush as she stretched and yawned. Nipples stood stiff and perky on her medium-sized breasts, which thrust up when she arced her back. “I-I can't believe you're really here!” She lit up like Chezka had never seen in all the time she'd known her. “Same here,” he confessed while he stripped out of his sweaty clothes. A little worse for wear.” He tapped his fractured horn. “But at least we're alive.” He made a bed up from his folded clothes. Chezka undid the ribbon that held up her spiky ponytail, and threw back her head to let her mane loose, which arced her torso and made her heavy, sweat-sheened breasts sway before they settled, both topped by wide areola that threatened to swallow up each pallid titty. Her often fierce expression had softened, and she deliberately moved in subdued ways to draw his eye. She asked him, “You know of the cosmic storm? You listened in when our queen questioned that caribou?” “Yep. Heard every word. We could lose our memories or be erased at any moment,” he surmised. “So whatever we do may not matter,” said Panna with heavy melancholy as her face fell. “Exactly,” replied Chezka. “But I choose to see the positives of our predicament. Live in the moment. That's always been one of the Amazon's creeds.” She placed a hand on each of them, tenderly caressed their shoulders. “Panna and I usually take care of each other's needs. And it was obvious how much you two savored that little 'ride' we took up the mountainside.” Panna's face colored. “Y-you noticed that? It was an accident but yes...I liked it.” Cornelius cupped a hand under his sister's chin to lift it and meet his eyes. “So did I. I know we shouldn't do this, but...but I can't deny we may never find more people like us. The caribou are the closest we've seen, and I don't want to be anywhere near them. I can't deny my attraction.” “So, it's settled then,” said Chezka. “Why don't the three of us make up for lost time?” Immediately, she drew them closer, pulled the brother-and-sister into a three-way kiss. They were quick to reciprocate, and their hands started to wander, sweaty flesh stroked and fondled. Soon, they allowed instinct to take over. Cornelius didn't mind Chezka's horse portion as he soon lined himself up behind the knelt down centaur, divided her horse cheeks, and slid into her warm, wet pussy with his deer dick. He continued to makeout with Chezka and Panna, felt them both up while his chiseled hips started to shift, and he clapped her toned, pale asscheeks in a blur. At the same time, Zafire Heart, who wandered the camp and saw their faint silhouettes in the midst of their tryst, lit her unicorn horn and lifted the tent flap aside to peek in with a smile. She cleared her throat to catch their attention. “Would you mind a fourth? Of course, I understand if-” “Get in here,” almost demanded Chezka amidst her moans while the satyr continued to clap her wide ass. “M-my queen,” she added with a blush, as she beckoned her over. “We could always use another cock,” admitted Panna with her own colored cheeks. Cornelius cocked an eyebrow, then understood when Zafira started to disrobe, and her half-hard stallionhood flopped free. She drew Panna to her by the hips, skewered her moist cunt deep. The foursome traded partners on occasion, and Cornelius found he didn't particularly mind Zafira's cock. Instead he simply surrendered to the pleasure, like the rest of them while they all fucked. He inevitably found himself intertwined once more with his sister, savored the smooth confines of her insides, the crush of her soft lips, the breasts, hips, and buttocks his hands sank into. By now, cum oozed from Chezka's orifices. Gaped wide open after Zafira had taken her, too, her lips wrapped around her queen's cock and serviced her while Zafire helped bob her head up-and-down her dick. Spiky, messy white hair fell around the centaur's shoulders which she sucked her 'Goddess' off, content to submit to and serve her, like most of her Amazon worshippers. Chezka took her deep as she could, bunched her breasts up around her shaft to help rub it off. She could hear her queen's heartbeat, feel each pulse and throb, impatient to have her face and breasts painted in cum. “Mark me,” she pleaded with a wet pop when she withdrew her lips, still tethered to her stallionhood with a mixture of saliva and precum when she felt Zafira start to flare, her mouth and throat already coated in thick layers of precum. Horseballs expanded, and Chezka closed her eyes when the first load of cum shot thick lines all over her face, hair, and tits, one-after-another without relent. She opened her maw and stuck out her tongue to accept it, aware from the many times she'd made love to her and Panna about how insane her semen production could be. No, not made love. Fucked. Hard. Tenderness soon surrendered to need whenever she laid claim to her lovers. “M-mark me too,” pleaded Panna as her brother continued to rail her cunt. “Both of you!” She craned her head to help suck off Zafira too once she'd unloaded, as she and Chezka worked her thick horsecock over. Zafire reached out and toyed with their malleable titties. Eventually, the Amazon Queen reached her limit once more. Cornelius, who shuddered when he creampied his sister, pulled out in the middle and helped Zafira hose down Panna's supple, denuded flesh with sticky cumshots that washed all over the fawn. Glazed tits heaved with sharp intakes. The time came when Cornelius couldn't spill anymore cum. Thanks to some residue from the aphrodisiac, he'd creamed Chezka's and Panna's fuckholes a few times before he was finally tuckered out, and practically slipped into a coma from utter exhaustion. Zafire could easily take her Amazons many more times, but the hour was late and they'd need their rest. “Sleep well,” she told the Amazons and kissed them tenderly on their temples. Then, she redressed and returned to her own private tent, satisfied. Peace had settled over the land, for the moment. Nonetheless, the 'Cult of the Nemesis' were still out there, as were more caribou camps. They could never truly rest while their enemies were still out there. But she'd deal with that another time.