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Chapter 17 by Demra Demra

Do you survive the birthing?

Yes

With a final, momentous push, the first of your unholy brood is born. As the newborn takes it's first breaths, you feel an enormous swell of pride as you see that the baby, your baby, is in no way human.

The infant is the spitting image of its father, your owner. You also realize, even as the next contraction hits, that like every other Hound in the pack, the baby is male. Part of you had expected this, the knowledge that there were no female Hellhounds previously having been supplied to your broken mind by the Daemonic brand above your sore and stretching cunt. You knew that the only way hellhounds could breed is by impregnating a human woman. Still, you should you feel a small twinge of regret as you realize that you will never give birth to a daughter.

You scream out in agony as your womb contracts again, pushing another of your Master's young free from you onto the wet mess of hay beneath you. Though you couldn't see it due to your still swollen belly, you knew that the brand above your pussy was shining with hellish ruby light.

As the third and final pup is born, you feel a wave of exhaustion roll over you, but you are also filled with intense pride as you watch your three sons timidly stroll over to their father, who sniffs each in turn, accepting them as his own.

"I...I did it master..." you say weakly. Your throat is dry and hoarse from screaming, and for a moment you aren't sure that your owner had heard you. Seconds later though, the massive muscular Beast trots over to you and licks the sweat from your neck and breasts causing you to smile weakly, your shattered mind overcome with emotion.

With another halfhearted push, the plecenta slides free of your devestated body as well, and you realize through the power of the mark that your first birthing is over. Over the next twelve hours, your master's venom, and the magic of the mark would heal you completely, readying you to be impregnated again when your master was ready.

Tears of joy streaming down your face, you surrender to unconciousness as the mark sets to work repairing your brutilized body.

Where do you go from here?

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