They present her to the alpha male, who breeds her like an animal!

By the time you can next make out a coherent picture rather than a swirling mass of bodies, Aliénor is practically butt-naked, a few ferociously shredded garments in no way hiding her modesty. Her plump breasts swing invitingly in the green light and her soft sex lies exposed to the cold touch of the subterranean air. More than anything, your attention is drawn to her gorgeous face, which is scrunched in anxiety and apprehension. Her eyes betray the deep swell of fear overcoming her senses as a result of her predicament. You know that she senses the end has come, and a prolonged and unpleasant one at that. You certainly wouldn’t want to be in her shoes!

To your surprise, the zombies do not launch themselves atop the captured adventurer like the mindless beasts you take them for. Indeed, although Aliénor is surrounded on every side, the creatures display an astounding restrain that belies your assumptions. Instead, four of the them advance and grasp one limb, contorting the captain painfully until she lies down partially on a cold damp tombstone in the middle of the chamber. Bosom pushed up against the dank surface, all you can see from the point of view of the undead is the pale flesh of her back and bottom, the latter propped up nice and invitingly. Your minions hold Aliénor’s legs apart widely and push them forcefully into the muddy ground. Others restrain her arms, squeezing them around the gravestone so that she is powerless to resist come what may. You realise from your vantage point what fate awaits her far earlier than she does. One of the walking corpses stands proudly behind the ensnared adventurer, fetid cock at the ready. Amusingly enough, you remark the gaping hole caved through its chest and realise that it is none other than the one Aliénor previously believed to have put to rest. To the victor the spoils, you suppose.

With a yell that you assume is some sort of victory cry, the alpha steps forward to claim his prize, his comrades pulling Aliénor uncomfortably in all directions so that even you can see the delicate lips of her sex. The bounty hunter tries to turn her head to make out what is happening, but a strong arm takes hold of her chin and convinces her otherwise. You can see her shaking nervously and imagine yourself about to plunge into her velvety depths. A shame to waste such a proud, beautiful prisoner on filth such as this. C’est la vie.

Taking a firm hold on her waist, the alpha rocks forward with a moan as he unceremoniously enters Aliénor’s tender opening. With an efficiency that shocks you, he rapidly accelerates the tempo in spite of the captain’s sudden cries. You switch your vision to get a better view, and from the side you are treated to the pleasing sight of this monstrous copulation. Aliénor jolts unnaturally forward as a long, green cock jabs in and out of her stretching pussy, each new thrust provoking another spasm of movement. On top, the zombie goes about his duty with an experienced efficiency, rotting hands gripped tightly on the young woman’s wide hips, thighs smacking noisily against her bare flesh. The others stand back, as if waiting their turn, although the odd hand rubs lustily against Aliénor’s exposed body. A few crumbling fingers rub against one of her small, erect nipples before squeezing harshly. It elicits an involuntary groan from the captain amidst her failing shouts of anguish.

Before you know it, the undead creature fucking Aliénor leans forward slightly, pressing its body against her back as if to lean in and whisper something into her ear. Unable to speak, however, it merely stretches an arm forth back over its captive, slowly and deliberately patting the woman’s stomach to signal its intent. Aliénor, understandably distracted, doesn’t seem to comprehend the importance of this gesture, but it doesn’t escape your notice. Quite evidently, the zombie means to turn its prisoner into a breeding **** for the horde, with all the messy sex and unholy pregnancies that such a fate ensues. You couldn’t write it better yourself! Aliénor, bent (over), bowed and broken, nought but a recipient for the seed of a pack of ravenous undead. A fitting end for a would-be assassin.

As a wide grin pricks at the edges of your lips, the alpha finishes his task. Still pounding Aliénor’s quim rhythmically, you see its muscles tense all over its fetid body, oversized balls quaking with the convulsions of the coming release. A few more wet slaps of flesh of flesh and then suddenly the zombie erupts with a long, low grunt somewhere between a roar and a groan. Aliénor folds forward under the weight as the beast forces itself against her and into the arch of her back as its seed spurts in rapid jets into her depths. Three more quick thrusts, each accompanied by the soft, satisfying squelch of more cum flooding the captain’s sex follow in succession before the deed is done. Squeezing Aliénor’s butt cheeks firmly, and then lazily rubbing her silky stomach with an attention bordering on affection, the corpse withdraws. A thin gush of its sperm drips out of the captain, the rest gathering deep inside of her womb. The breeding process, however, is not yet at an end.