The Den of the Pack

When you are inside, and able to see past the tent flap, you realize that your initial suspicions were correct. Your master is part of a pack, and this tent is clearly where they are being housed by the leaders of the Daemon armada.

The scent is overpowering, both bestial and, yet, somehow alluring. Nearly twenty Hellhounds are scattered through various parts of the cavernous tent, though none of them are quite as large or as muscular as your master. Each of them raises their large snout and sniffs the air as you enter, recognizing the scent of both your master, and your bare and increasingly moist slit.

Your master lets out a deep, trumpeting call, and each of them returns to their various activities, cowed by his display of dominance. He begins to walk to a corner of the tent, looking back once to ensure you are still following.

Curiously, as you walk, you can see that all of the Hellhounds in the tent are male. There appeared to be no females in the entire pack.

In a moment, you and your owner reach a raised dirt platform, on top of which rests a large, filthy mound of hay. Clearly this is the resting location for the pack alpha male; the Hound that has conquered and claimed you. Turning to you, he lets out another call. This one is quieter, but equally dominant. Once again, you realize without knowing how, that your master has just ordered you to your hands and knees, and that he intends to fuck you again, this time in front of the entire pack, thereby cementing both his dominance, and your position as his property.

All thoughts of freedom, your faith, and your sisters still firmly suppressed by the effects of the narcotic venom and unholy semen in your body, you drop obediently to your knees.

Anticipating your master's desires, you fall forward onto your hands, and arch your back like a bitch in heat. You spread your legs as you do, allowing your owner unrestricted access to your pussy and still throbbing asshole. You hope that this time, he will take your virginity, if only to spare you another brutal ass fucking like the one he had given you on the floor of the Abbey. However, the venom in your blood reminds you suddenly that if he decides to take your ass again, that you have no right to resist. That you are property, and as such he has the right to do anything he wants to you.

The pack are all watching now, each of them raising their head to sniff at the air, obviously responding to the scent of your arousal.

Your master looks out over them and bellows with triumph and bestial lust, before turning back towards you and lifting its large bulk to mount your hips once again. As before, you feel certain that this is what you were meant to be, a submissive, utterly obedient fuck toy for your beautiful master; hole for Daemons to breed. With one hand you reach back and take hold of the thick shaft of your master rapidly swelling cock.

Your owner crys out again, and in that second, you know. This time, he intends to deflower you, to take the last traces of your virtue here, publicly, in this filthy den; this time, he has ordered you to surrender your virginity, your faith, and the connection to your god, replacing them all with devotion to him, and only him.

As the large Daemonic animal shifts itself to bring its large phallus to your entrance, you shut your eyes and smile, eager and ready to take the final step into your new existence.

You take a deep breath, and...