The Sergeant

The clip clop sound of hooves on the tiled floor caused Mira to raise her weary head and peer down the corridor. All around the semi-naked guardsmen gathered, tired, panting, easing backwards to rest against their poker table and walls.

She could see nothing. The shadows lurked too heavily at the back of the corridor, conspiring to obscure from view whatever was approaching.

Mira felt her body shudder even as the shadowy tendrils which puppeted her body began to stir. She found herself moving again. Slowly but surely the tentacles lifted her off the cold stones of the corridor, raising her body up into the air and while the tormented paladin was pleased to discover she could more-or-less move her hands and arms freely she had mixed feelings when her legs were eased open.

The paladin hung in the air, knees open to the world as her exhausted captures edged backwards and out of the way.

"The Sarg..." she heard one of them mutter.

"This... will... be good," another said as he placed himself on the nearby table. Mira recognised the speaker. She had his cock in her mouth moments ago. She had only just reached a sexual high – and found herself hungering for more. These guards could go again, a better routine this time, taking terms in her rather than all going at once.

The young blonde warrior wrestled with her feelings. Was this her life now? She could like it. Should she? She could fight the incubus’ infection. Should she? Escape? Or should she try and entice the men back over again? Her naked body, knees open and sex exposed was presented to one and all by the tendrils that held her in the air... why did none of the men step forward to take her again?

Mira understood when the sergeant appeared. The boss was no man.

The sergeant of the guard stalked slowly down the corridor towards Mira. The mighty beastman let his battle axe slide from his grip and be placed carefully against the wall. He was fierce to behold; a hybrid of man and beast.

The beastman walked on two cloven feet. The sergeant had goat legs, long, muscled and bent forward at the knee. The lower half of his body was covered in a shaggy, mottled grey fur. The in-human guard had a human like chest and arms; dark skin, leathery but smooth. The sergeant’s head was that of a goats – wild eyes, large, fat and white teeth, fur and two impressively curled horns that reached backwards.

The tendrils shifted, moving Mira up slightly, better aligning her naked body with the approaching beastman. The sergeant cast off his loin cloth, trampling it under a hoof as he marched forward, his long, fuzz-covered and erect cock swaying before him like an innocence slaying lance.