Encroacher Studies: Ch. 3 | EaC! Commission for NDJack (Patreon)

Author's Note: This story is best enjoyed in chronological order. If you haven't read the other chapters yet, here's Chapter One and here's Chapter Two.

“Feed her!”

Astrid shot up in her bed, covered in a thick coat of the master’s viscous slime. She gasped and ran both hands over her chest, down her abdomen, then rested them on the tops of her thighs. Breathe. It’s not the master; only my sweat. Her heart pounded in her ears as she cupped her face in her hands.

It was just a dream…

Freyja stirred on her perch, crooning softly before fluffing her feathers and returning to sleep. Water, Astrid thought. She kicked away the remaining blankets and set her bare feet on the cool wood, moving through the pitch-black bedroom with ease.

Moonlight greeted Astrid’s naked skin in the single window of her common room. She found the clay pitcher of rainwater beside her food stores and an empty mug waiting on the small dining table. She filled it to the brim and raised it to her lips with trembling fingers.

Four months it had been since her encounter with the mirror slimes. The snow had melted, welcoming the fresh blooms of spring, but the event had changed them all. Keke avoided Astrid at every possible juncture. They exchanged short, polite greetings in the dining hall or in passing, but even their trades of hunting goods had devolved into leaving the other’s portion in a basket on their doorstep.

Sadie pretended like it had never happened, which felt worse at times. And Randgris… As soon as she’d healed, Randgris had left Khasstead for the safer forests of Ronona. Perhaps it was for the best. A single glance of Keke brought Astrid back to the oozing caverns, the taste of the sweet elixir on her tongue, the feeling of Keke’s skin on hers, the master’s tendrils hungrily plunging inside of—

S-stop…

Astrid ran a hand through her hair and took another drink. But even while she told herself the throbbing between her legs was a side effect of her heartbeat, her gaze wandered to her journal lying open beside the pitcher on her dining table. Sketches of the masters and its underkinds covered the pages, annotated with notes and two words underlined three times: Serious threat! She stroked the outlines of her sketches, feeling their contours on her hips and thighs, their thirst at her core.

It wasn’t nightmares that plagued Astrid. It was cravings.

She shut the book and lightly stepped to the window. The pyreflies that heralded spring danced among the trees and tall grasses of the forest. It was warm enough again to sleep nude and to replace her gregillo furs with favored leathers for hunting. She inhaled the fresh scent of the forest deeply and finished her glass of water.

While Astrid loved the delicate songs of the night, their quiet hums left her to her thoughts. Did she deserve her place among her sisters? Perhaps they would be safer without her. Still…what if she could find an Encroacher that catgirls were capable of mating with? Surely that would validate her research and interests. Unless, of course, her kitten was an abnormality or unable to survive due to their clashing structures.

But there was no use in thinking about endless possibilities. Astrid’s mother had taught her as much. “Consider your hunt and the steps you must take to successfully complete it,” she’d said. “Nothing more. Nothing less.”

Perhaps Astrid’s sisters didn’t understand her. Perhaps her cravings were growing…eccentric. However, that didn’t make her research any less important. If no one else was willing to try, then nothing would change.

It was a comforting enough thought that Astrid felt she could return to sleep.

Even if the masters awaited her in her dreams.

---

Astrid forfeited sleep as soon as the sun peaked over the horizon. She dressed, then changed into her [Combat Mode]. After a quick click of her tongue to wake Freyja, they left the cabin to hunt for her breakfast. There were plenty of options in her stores, but she required a task to distract her mind from its machinations.

“Spirits blessings, Astrid,” Sylva hailed her just as she was at the edge of the forest.

“And a blessed sunrise to you, Sylva,” Astrid replied. She hadn’t told Sylva all the details from the mirror slime encounter, and neither had the others. Outside of Astrid’s report, it seemed the events inside the cave would die with the four of them. “Am I disturbing your hunt?”

“No, dear girl. There is a missive for you this very morning from Ronona.” Sylva held up a folded parchment with the Guild Hall’s seal embellished in the wax round at the center.

A new Encroacher? Astrid’s heart raced as she reached for the letter.

Sylva pulled it back and frowned. “I believe it’s safe to assume this is a new Encroacher for you to monitor and hunt. However…” She studied Astrid from the tips of her ears to her feet and shook her head. “I understand if you do not feel ready for the task. I will have Lily formally reject their request if you so wish it.”

“No!” The word escaped Astrid’s lips more fervently than she had intended. She hissed in a breath and held her hand out, palm up. “No. I am ready, Sylva. Please.”

An uncertain anxiety crossed Sylva’s expression, but she placed the letter in Astrid’s palm. “Of course. You know your heart and mind best.” She raised an arm for Fletcher and gifted Astrid with one more uneasy nod. “Good hunting, Astrid.”

“And you, Sylva.”

Astrid waited until Sylva vanished into the forest before opening the letter.

Lady Astrid of Khasstead,

While it has been some time since our last request, it must be stated that we here at the Ronona Guild Hall are very impressed with your work. You have saved countless lives with your research and detailed studies, and for that, we have added five thousand Bells to your stores when you are ready to collect or spend them in Ronona.

Today, we write to request a collection of data on a species of fish that has recently appeared in Nyarlothep waters, consuming smaller, freshwater entities in Birala River at an alarming rate—

Astrid stopped reading. She felt torn between laughing and crying. After sending her into the nest of the grasping vines and discovering the mirror slime layer, they wanted her to follow a fish? Impressed, indeed.

“Unbelievable,” Astrid whispered to Freyja. More mind-numbing work that would never bring her closer to her goal. More useless Bells that held no value in the village of Khasstead—her equipment was maintained to perfection in the hands of herself and her sisters, and she never wanted for food. She scratched Freyja’s cheek. “Maybe we’ll take a trip to Ronona, and you can eat all the roast fish you want.”

Freyja chirped happily on her shoulder. “Fish” was a word she recognized and enjoyed thoroughly.

With a sigh, Astrid finished reading. Grey coloring, up to two feet long, easily distinguished by its split tails that fanned out behind it. If they had only appeared in Birala River, that made them easy enough to track. The river ran through Ronona, then straight south until it poured out into the ocean. Since she didn’t need to travel all the way to Ronona—just West until she hit the river—she could make it with Halona in a day’s ride.

Astrid turned away from the forest and strode across the dewy grass to the epitel stables. Freyja took to the sky with a flock call, swirling in circles in search of other morning companions. Standing in the center of the stables was Lily, crooning to the cradled kitten in her arms.

“—the most magnificent creatures,” Lily murmured to Wren. “One day, you’ll catch your very own.”

“Aah!” Wren, named after Lily’s mother, cried happily, reaching for Halona’s face with chubby fingers.

“Spirits Blessings, Lily,” Astrid greeted as she closed the stable’s gate behind her.

Lily beamed. “Warm greetings to you, Astrid. I thought I would introduce Wren to the epitels today.”

“Aaah!” Wren giggled as Halona licked her ear.

A tiny pang of jealousy struck Astrid’s chest. Two men had graced their village, and only one had seen fit to give the hunters a kitten. Still, if anyone deserved a child, it was Lily. Astrid swallowed back her envy. “Halona seems to have taken a liking to her.”

“Yes. Though Pip cannot decide what to do with her.” Lily giggled. Pip, her speckled felleck, watched from atop the fence, his dark brown eyes focused on the kitten. “Are you going to hunt?”

Astrid waved the Guild Hall message in the air. “Another Encroacher to study.”

Lily’s lips pursed with concern. “Are you comfortable perusing it? I would be happy to send the Guild Hall a request for pardon.”

“It’s a fish.” Astrid chuckled lightly. “But, if I think it too dangerous, I promise by the spirits that I will return immediately.

Lily’s easy smile returned, and she nodded. Wren shouted with glee and reached for the carved bones dangling from her mother’s hair. “Travel safely, then. I will have Sadie and Keke cover your hunts while you are away.”

Thankfully, Astrid had already turned to face Halona, hiding her wince from Lily. The last thing she wanted was to burden the two of them with more. But with Lily’s mother’s poor health, Lily was effectively the leader of Khasstead. “I will try not to be gone for long.”

“Travel at your ease, Astrid. May your hunt bear fruit.”

Astrid led Halona from the stables, finding it difficult to meet Lily’s eyes. “Thank you, Lily.”

Freyja plunged through the space between the stable’s roof and the fence, rustling Pip’s feathers and earning her a frustrated shriek from the felleck. Freyja settled on Astrid’s shoulder and squeaked her bird-like laugh.

At least one of us is in high spirits.

---

Outside of the three fesets Freyja caught for herself and the two squirrels Astrid shared with her, the journey was quiet. A furlocke had followed them for a short time, but she didn’t have the heart to down a twelfth. Instead, she dribbled a mixture of lemon juice and fire pepper along their trail. The scents wreaked havoc on the poor beast’s nostrils, and Astrid knew she was in the clear when short, sharp sneezes tumbled away in the opposite direction.

The sound of rushing water perked Astrid’s ears, and she dismounted from Halona. It was just a few feet more before they found Birala River awaiting them just beyond a large clearing of trees. Two wild epitel relaxed beside one another downriver while tall reeds swayed in the steady breeze. The sun’s edge had just barely touched the tips of the mountain range in the distant west, and groups of birds called for their foraging companions to soon return to the flock.

Astrid knelt at the river’s bank, cupping her hands beneath the surface and then raising them to take a drink. Halona moved to stand beside her and then bent her neck to do the same. Freyja landed on a nearby shallow edge, cleaning her feathers and splashing Astrid in the process.

“Freyja! Keep your bathing to yourself!” Astrid laughed, splashing Freyja back.

Freyja twitched her head toward Astrid, then shook her entire body so every feather puffed out at once. With an indignant squawk, she continued her bathing.

I could use a bath, too, Astrid thought. But a streak of silver caught the sun’s setting glow near the bottom of the river, snapping her to attention. Its large body wiggled upriver, and the large fins on its two tails spilled around it like wings.

“That looks like a slitherscale,” Astrid thought aloud. She shook the excess droplets from her hands and watched the fish move. “But…in fresh water?” They were made for the ocean, not rivers. Outside of that, slitherscales were a bright, vibrant green, and their fins an electric yellow. These fish seemed dull in comparison.

Another grey giant followed behind, propelling itself with its powerful tails at a speed that suggested it wasn’t fighting against the river’s current. Then a third. It was no wonder the smaller freshwater species were disappearing—there was no escaping something this big when it maneuvered so quickly.

Astrid frowned in thought while she considered her best options to get one of the strange slitherscales to the surface. The most obvious was fishing one out, but that could take hours, and there was a very good chance that she would catch a different fish instead and scare them off.

She’d brought a cast net, but the fish swam between jutting branches and groupings of reeds, which would likely break her net. And, she realized sourly, a fishing line, nullifying her first approach.

A more desperate option would be to tie a rope to an arrow and shoot it. However, that fancy came from getting lucky once as a [Scout], when she shot a violet ryba and pulled it up with her rope. Now, as a seasoned [Sniper] who carefully made her own arrows, it seemed like such a waste. Not only was the river much deeper than her lucky shot, but it was also moving far too quickly. If she tried to use Skills, she’d likely cut it in half.

Halona pressed her muzzle against Astrid’s shoulder.

Astrid touched her cheek and smiled. “You can go graze, girl.” She glanced downstream, where the wild epitels watched them with cautious curiosity. “Maybe make a new friend.”

Halona snorted through her nostrils, then trotted to a patch of grass near the others before tearing into it with flat teeth. Astrid sighed. Unfortunately, finding a spot upriver with fewer places to snare a lure on and fishing one of the slitherscales out seemed like her best option. Until then, the fish seemed plentiful enough for her to take a bath and refresh herself from her journey.

“[Civilian Mode],” Astrid said. Her combat leathers vanished, replaced by the twill dress she’d had to remake for a third time in a year. Maybe I should buy a few more replacements with my money in Ronona, she thought with a smirk as she unfastened her [Cat Pack], then tugged it over her head. She was far enough from the main road to Ronona to not surprise any travelers, and Khasstead was still the nearest settlement to her location. So she comfortably stripped down her underthings and added them to the pile, then joined Freyja at the shallow entrance to the river.

As soon as her toes touched the cool water, goosebumps peppered her legs and abdomen. Going into the water slowly would be torture. With a quick hiss of breath, she hopped off the edge and splashed into the depths.

The river pressed against Astrid’s body, urging her to follow its currents, but not so fiercely that it carried her away. As she sank, she looked up. Tiny orange fish swam downstream, and the ripples blurred the reeds above the surface. Her tail touched a branch, and she righted herself before kicking off the bottom and rose to the surface. Even if her feet couldn’t reach the dirt, it was easy to tread against the tide with just her legs. She closed her eyes, ran her fingers through her hair, and enjoyed the sensation of clean water on her skin.

Freyja shrieked and frantically beat her wings. Halona’s desperate bleats joined her. Astrid snapped to attention and turned toward the sound.

Two enormous, broad-shouldered minotaurs stood on the riverbank. One held Freyja’s body in both hands while she writhed her neck and snapped her beak, failing to sink it into his hands. The second had Halona—a horn in one hand, one of her tails in the other.

Panic clenched Astrid’s heart. If either one of the beasts so much as twitched, their rippling muscles would easily tear her companions to shreds. But…they didn’t move. They just watched her with eerily intelligent eyes while Freyja and Halona struggled against their grip.

“Out,” a deep, gruff voice growled behind her.

Astrid kicked forward and reached the edge of the bank. She steadied her hands in the grass and kicked upward—

“No. Here,” the voice commanded.

She blinked, lowered herself back into the water, and turned. Three more minotaurs awaited her on the other side of the riverbank. The one at their center held a greataxe as tall as Astrid in both hands. Three golden rings hung from his right ear, and he wore a leather harness around his abdomen over a pair of leather trousers.

“Come out here,” he said, stamping one foot on his side of the river. “Or they die.”

They can speak? Astrid kicked away and quickly swam the length of the river. She’d only ever seen a group of minotaurs once. During her training to be a [Sniper], Wren had taken her to a minotaur camp outside of Ronona the morning before the Royal Knights would execute the camp. ‘There are few Encroachers like minotaurs, Astrid,’ Wren had warned her. ‘They can organize, attack in teams, and are not to be taken lightly.’

As she swam, she tried to recall every fact she’d noted about the brief encounter. Minotaurs were a roaming species, preferring to live in groups of eight to twelve. Their camps were never in the same place for more than a few months, and they tended to leave catgirls alone unless provoked.

Which was why the existence of a camp of forty minotaurs just outside of Ronona for over a year had scared the queen.

But, when Astrid had watched them, they’d seemed…peaceful. There were males, females, and young offspring. They conversed through a series of grunts, growls, and dozens of minute displays of body language. She’d seen two of the female minotaurs cooking dinner, and a group of offspring playing. Knowing they were all slaughtered had kept Astrid awake for three nights.

“Faster!” the minotaur demanded.

This was the first time Astrid had ever heard them speak her tongue. Or heard of them attacking a woman on her own. She reached the riverbank and hoisted herself onto the grass. Not daring to show a sign of dominance, she remained on her knees and fixed her gaze on the ground.

The same minotaur barked a series of growls and clicks to his companions across the river. Astrid twisted her head just enough to see one release their hold on Freyja, who quickly soared upward and vanished into the forest. Astrid sighed in relief. Freyja’s training urged her to escape danger, then wait somewhere in the vicinity for instruction. Astrid could find her later. So long as the minotaurs released her.

“What about my epitel?” Astrid asked. Her stomach twisted into knots with Halona’s terrified whimpers.

“You follow first. Then we let go.”

They must have had a bridge nearby. If only Astrid had just surveyed the river a bit more before diving in. I’ve grown too complacent—

“Up!” The leader grabbed her hair in a gigantic hand and pulled her upward.

Astrid hissed in pain. She barely had a chance to scramble to her feet, fearing that he’d tear the hair from her head. The minotaur to her left growled, licked his chops, and stepped forward. Astrid suddenly felt very, very exposed. She raised her arms across her chest and flinched with the minotaur’s approach, but his leader dropped her hair, snapped his teeth, and growled at the other beast, cutting off his advance. To Astrid’s relief, the subordinate backed off.

“Come. This way,” the leader said to Astrid, tossing his head and flicking his ears before striding into the forest.

Astrid shivered and nodded before following in his footsteps. Whether the others collected her [Cat Pack] and clothing didn’t matter.

What was important was that she survived.

Their march was long and uncomfortable. Only the leader stood at the head, followed by Astrid, then the other four minotaurs. Walking through the forest naked was not a new experience—she’d learned how to avoid cutting herself on underbrush and rocks carefully. But feeling eight pairs of hungry eyes on her was…

Delicious.

Astrid’s thoughts unsettled her. The Encroachers could very well be walking her back to their camp for any number of horrific rituals, but all she could imagine were their hands on her skin, and what awaited beneath their loincloths.

‘Favorite,’ the master had called her.

If there had been another underkind to feed her, she would have welcomed it.

What has become of me?

To distract herself, she would occasionally pull strands of her hair free and snare them around nearby branches. In addition, she made sure to leave heavier footprints in softer ground and was relieved to see the minotaurs behind her failing to cover their tracks. If she were gone long enough and could survive, one of her sisters would find her.

It was dark by the time they reached their destination. A sparse ring of torches lined a camp concealed behind the leader minotaur’s body. Astrid caught sight of three yurt-like structures and a campfire at their center.

The leader saluted another minotaur on the perimeter of the camp, then grabbed Astrid’s shoulder and pushed her to walk ahead of him.

Astrid kept her balance, then peered at the leader over her shoulder. “Let Halona go. Please.”

The leader nodded and signaled to one of his subordinates. Halona’s hooves struck the earth as she galloped away from her captor. Satisfied, Astrid returned her attention to the encampment.

A quick count revealed five other minotaurs throughout the camp. Two females—who wore leather breastplates over their chests and had much smaller horns than their male counterparts—sat at the fire, adding ingredients to a huge pot. A young female sat close by on a log, watching with rapt attention. Astrid could make out the outline of another male guard at the opposite end of the camp, and a final male hauled wood from behind one of the yurts to the fire.

“Move,” the leader growled.

Goddess above, are they going to cook me?

Every face looked up to see Astrid enter the encampment. The females’ ears flattened backward, and the young child looked at Astrid with wide-eyed fear. A grunt, a growl, or a chain of clicks accompanied each step that she moved closer to the pot.

A [Sniper] never went down without a fight. She parted her lips to summon her [Combat Mode] when the leader clipped her side with his shoulder, knocking her away from the pot and toward a yurt with spiraling designs painted onto its walls.

Piercings, paintings, armor, language… Minotaurs have a culture of their own.

Two of the minotaurs behind Astrid joined the females at the campfire. One lifted the young one into his lap and rubbed his cheek against hers. The last one took a place on the encampment’s perimeter, still eyeing Astrid as the leader pulled back the tattered cloth covering the yurt’s opening, and she stepped inside.

To Astrid’s surprise, the room was furnished in a near-identical fashion to the cabins of Khasstead. An enormous fur was spread across the floor, various trophies of the hunt hung from the walls—a furlocke skull, a line of teeth the size of Astrid’s forearm, the head of an ice stalker—and sleeping furs were neatly rolled and rested near a gleaming set of armor that could have been crafted in Ronona from appearance alone.

At the center of the yurt sat a cross-legged minotaur lit by a single torch to his right. He had a more muscular build than the group leader who had brought her there, and both of his ears and his nose were pierced with glittering, golden rings. A tattoo in the same pattern as the paintings on the yurt wound around his right bicep, flexing and pulsing as he cleaned the bloodied blade in his hands. Two pairs of horns curved outward from his head—one pair pointed forward, the other wrapped downward near his cheeks. Their tips looked as sharp and as deadly as one of Astrid’s arrows.

He looked up as they entered, curious brown eyes moving from Astrid to the minotaur behind her.

“Aredir? What is this?” More surprising than the furnishings was his voice. Only a light dragging of his R’s accented his otherwise clear speech.

“Honored Rilkohr,” the minotaur behind Astrid said, then sank to his knee and rested his axe on the floor. He reverted to grunts and snorts, flicking his ears and tail as he spoke.

Rikohr’s hand stilled on the blade, and his forearms tensed. For a second time, Astrid considered switching to [Combat Mode] and taking her chances. If her [Agility] and [Dexterity] could outpace their [Strength]…

“Leave us, Aredir,” Rikohr growled.

Aredir looked up and huffed a hot stream of air through his nose. “But—”

“Go!” Rikohr snapped.

Aredir glowered at Astrid before standing and whipping the tattered cloth aside. Once he had gone, Rikohr set his axe aside. “What is your name?”

“Astrid.” She lowered herself to her knees and brought her tail over her lap.

“Were there others with you when they captured you?”

His language was perfect. How was that possible? Were there other Encroachers who could speak their tongue? “Just my bird and my epitel. But your, um,”—she struggled for the right word, then settled—“soldiers released them.”

“And do you know why they brought you here?”

Astrid shook her head. “No.”

“You are a gift. For me.”

Astrid curled her fingers into fists, resting them atop her thighs. “You didn’t sound pleased to receive me.”

Rikohr snorted. “My prior tribe was slaughtered by creatures who shared your face. They do not understand that your warriors—” His demeanor turned suddenly serious, and his tone venomous. “I will not let that happen again. If there are more of you waiting in hiding—”

“No. I swear by what I said; I am alone. And I can only assure the safety of your tribe if you set me free,” Astrid said quickly. “I can ensure that my sisters will not hunt you if I return. However, if I don’t, they will track me.”

“And how long will they wait to find you?”

“They…” Astrid poked her tongue into her cheek. They wouldn’t start looking for at least a week.

A sound like a chuckle rumbled in Rikohr’s throat. “Long enough to leave you for dead and move my tribe to find a new camp?”

Astrid sighed, and her ears flattened against her head. Unlike the mirror slimes, these Encroachers had a moral compass. Lying to him felt…wrong. She was as fascinated as she was terrified.

“I heard about your last tribe, Honored Rikohr,” Astrid said softly, using the title Aredir had offered. “While I wasn’t there, it saddened me. I’m sorry.”

Rikohr canted his head in an oddly familiar way. “That was not the lie I expected.”

“It’s not a lie.” Astrid met his eyes with every ounce of sincerity she could muster. “The queen should not have attacked you.”

“Hm.” Rikohr regarded her for a time. “Do other members of your kind feel this way?”

“I don’t know,” Astrid admitted. She swallowed the building lump in her throat and straightened her shoulders. If she needed to defend herself or attempt an escape, she needed to know. However, something told her that wasn’t what he had in mind. “Rikohr… If I am your gift, what do you want of me?”

Rikohr’s gaze traveled slowly from her ears, to her breasts, to the tail hiding away the final vulnerable piece of her.

“Do you want to kill me?” Astrid asked, forcing her face to remain composed.

“No.” Rikohr reached forward and cupped his hand around the back of her head. As he leaned back, he pulled her to her knees, and she slowly crawled toward him.

“Torture me?” Astrid whispered. The fur tickled her calves as she moved. Tension built in the pit of her stomach, and her tail twitched with excitement.

“No.” Rikohr unclasped the belt around his waist with his free hand and discarded the only equipment he wore to the side. He grasped her hair and forced her to stare up at his muzzle. “I want to break you, Astrid.” He pushed her head downward with a grunt. “Open your mouth.”

Rikohr plunged his throbbing shaft between her lips, choking Astrid’s gasp. His cock was bigger than anything she had imagined on their journey to the camp, stretching her jaw to its limit. And still he urged her down, meeting the back of her throat before she’d reached half of his length.

“Such strain on those weak cheeks,” Rikohr groaned. “Work harder.”

Astrid closed her eyes and fought for air through her nose, willing her throat and chest to relax. She fought back a gag as the head of his shaft curled beyond the drop of her tongue and penetrated her throat.

“Better.” Rikohr’s nails scraped her scalp.

But she was only halfway there.

Astrid lapped the thick vein on the underside with flat strokes of her tongue, ignoring the tears that collected at the corners of her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Another inch. He groaned, and she could feel his searing breath washing over her back.

“We enjoy this feeling.” He wrapped her tail in his free hand, stroking it with his thumb while lightly tugging it in his fist. “Do you?”

Astrid moaned as her back arched in response and her nails dug into the fur beneath her. The heat gathering between her legs was overwhelming. Her body throbbed, and the goosebumps returned.

Another inch.

Rikohr’s slow descent down her throat was so different than the sudden presence of the grasping vines, or the constant feedings of the mirror slimes. The enormous hand on her head felt like a larger version of her own.

“You do not resist,” Rikohr growled.

No. From the moment the Guild Hall’s letter had arrived, this was what Astrid had yearned for. Falling at the hands of beasts and letting them ravage her. She’d convinced herself her work was to find an alternative to men for kittens. When had that changed?

Rikohr raised her head upward, then forced it back down.

Astrid suppressed another gag, though her chest and shoulders clenched. A fresh pair of tears escaped her eyes, and she fought for air around his girth. She peered up at him, and he favored her with a hungry stare.

Astrid’s lips reached his base, and his cock twitched against her tongue and throat. A guttural growl rumbled in his chest. She kept her watering eyes on his face, watching as he clenched his teeth and let his head loll back.

It would be so easy to shift to [Combat Mode] and draw her knife across the throbbing vein of his throat. Escape quietly into the night and leave Aredir to tend to their tribe.

Instead, she repositioned her hands on his powerful thighs and set a pace against his hold.

 “You want this?” Rikohr asked. She tried to hum in agreement, but the sound came out as a strained whimper. “Mmh. A gift, indeed.”

Relaxing became easier as she moved, and he widened the confines of her throat. Saliva dribbled down her chin, but she didn’t care. His skin was smooth and searing, and his groans fed her desires.

The strokes along Astrid’s tail became longer. Rikohr shifted his hand from her head to fondle her breast. She trembled with her effort and shivered beneath his touch. But she brought her lips to the base of his shaft every…single…time…

The roar that escaped Rikohr as he climaxed was entirely bestial, layered over his underlying groans as he bent forward. His hot, thick, seed soaked Astrid’s tongue and throat. She forced herself to swallow every drop, pressing her tongue pointedly against his pulsing vein to urge his pleasure.

Rikohr gasped and clasped her face between quivering hands and raised her face away from his still-erect shaft. I made him feel this way. “You are…different.”

“I know.” Astrid raised her hands from his thighs to his shoulders, inching forward on her knees until her arms wrapped around his neck.

“What are you doing?”

“You wanted to break me.” Astrid moved one leg to rest around his waist, then the other. Even with their shoulders touching, her hips barely reached below Rikohr’s chest. But she clung to him tightly and inhaled the musky scent of his skin. “Break me.”

Rikohr…purred, to Astrid’s surprise. He easily cupped one of her thighs in each hand and positioned her flank just far enough away to align the engorged head of his cock to her heat. Her heart skipped when she felt the circumference far exceed the slit between her legs.

Astrid tentatively wriggled her hips, and her slicked sex stretched to welcome him. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she clung tighter to his neck.

“You are so soft.” Rikohr relaxed his hold on her legs and let gravity pull her down around him. “And so tight.”

“Mnh…ah!” Astrid sank her teeth into Rikohr’s shoulder, her sounds no longer muffled by an already occupied tongue. Her legs quivered, and her nerves felt as if he’d set fire to them.

There was a dominance in the way he continued to let her sink despite her cries and the sharp spasms of her body. It was gradual, but unflinching. No matter that she felt as if he were splitting her in half. Her acceptance was inevitable.

“You will make it difficult to—ngh…” A moan interrupted his thought as he neared his knees. “To mate with my own kind.”

Astrid wanted to reply, but couldn’t find the words. Rikohr’s cock was larger than the grasping vines, less forgiving than the slimes. He was hard, tense, and unyielding—her body protested with his refusal to fit her shape. And still, she felt him move deeper. Stretch her wider.

Sweat slicked her neck and spine; dripped between their compressed chests. Astrid had to release her hold around his neck as she moved lower, and she let her fingers trail over his shoulders and chest. Her heels skidded down his back, gliding to his sides as he filled her depths.

Rikohr’s muscles were as firm and powerful as the rest of him, rolling with his breaths against her flesh. When her hips met his at last, a string of breathy moans dripped from Astrid’s tongue. She balanced on the edge of pain and ecstacy. Every twitch of his shaft and groan in his chest vibrated through her entire being, reminding her that he touched every wall, caressed every ridge, and kneaded against every point of her pleasure at once.

One leathery hand curved up and around her lower back while the other repositioned to her left shoulder. Rikohr leaned Astrid backward against his hand and then brushed her hair away from her face and torso. She fought for air while he brushed his fingers over her hardened nipples, down the taut line of her stomach, and—as Astrid glanced down to watch—around the protruding outline of his cock sheathed inside her.

H-he’s…just as fascinated as I am… Astrid joined him, touching the outline with trembling fingers, then she slowly rolled her hips forward. “A-ah!” It was so much, feeling him move within and without.

“Eager gift,” Rikohr grunted and returned one hand to the back of her thigh, cupping her flank in his palm.

Lifting her seemed as easy to him as when Astrid lifted an arrow.

Unintelligible prayers tore from her lips as he withdrew by inches, then pushed her back down around him. Brilliant lights erupted in her vision, and she grasped at his forearms for purchase. He moved her again, pulling her far enough away that she’d thought he’d withdrawn until he slammed her back down.

Gone were Rikohr’s slow, careful advances. Now he moved her for his cravings alone. He rotated his hips, striking inside of her at different angles, forcing new cries to tear from Astrid’s throat. But with each new thrust, her tension grew. Her ecstasy trickled down her thighs until he met no resistance in his thrusts.

“I… I…” Astrid whimpered.

The word fell on deaf ears. Rikohr’s eyes were hard with his concentration. His rhythm and grunts moved in consistent tandem, and he’d wrapped his tail around her left wrist.

Astrid’s climax consumed her. But the convulsions she typically experienced struggled to constrict around Rikohr’s enormous cock, materializing as small, frustrating pulses that refused to resolve. It was a sensation that was as maddening as it was intoxicating. They heightened the intensity of his thrusts to become more potent and her desire for him to continue.

“Harder!” The word strained in her hoarse throat, and she sank her nails into his skin. Rikohr sped, and Astrid’s eyes rolled back. “Goddess, yes!” The pulsing continued like an infinite orgasm, and her thighs twitched wildly.

Rikohr’s roar resonated in the room a second time, and his climax erupted inside of her. The sudden pressure amplified Astrid’s orgasm, and she let her cries join his. His shaft shrank as he spent himself, and the sharp convulsions her body demanded drowned her in pleasure. Her eyes closed, her back arched against his hand, and she ground her hips against him.

“You are not broken,” Rikohr’s amused voice swam between the thumps of adrenaline pounding in her ears.

“No,” Astrid whispered. Her climax slowed at last, and her tension eased. The insides of her thighs were sticky with his seed, and she could still taste him on her tongue.

“You are a gift to be shared.” Still holding Astrid by her thigh and back, Rikohr eased himself away from her.

S…Shared?! “But I-I—?” Astrid murmured.

“Perform well tomorrow, and I will free you.” Rikohr lay her down on the rug and stood. Astrid peered up at the towering giant—his horns would reach her cabin’s ceiling. He retrieved the rolled furs, unbound them, and laid a thick, warm skin over Astrid’s body. “Sleep. You will need it.”

Astrid had so many questions, but, after the day’s events, her [Energy] was entirely drained. She couldn’t keep her eyes open.

Shared…

---

The warm scent of recently cooked fish penetrated Astrid’s nostrils and woke her from her slumber. With the soft furs beneath her and her nude bearing, for a few, happy seconds, she assumed she was home in her own cot.

Opening her eyes revealed just the opposite. A minotaur-sized bowl of steaming, grey slices of fish meat rested beside her head. Rikohr sat near her feet, polishing the last droplets of blood from his axe. It seemed he hadn’t noticed she was awake yet. Astrid licked her lips and considered her options.

Rikohr was going to share her. With who, Aredir? Was it one more night in Aredir’s yurt and then she could go home? What if Rikohr changed his mind and decided to share her with the other males in the camp?

“Eat. You will need your strength,” Rikohr grunted.

Astrid started in surprise. “You knew I was awake?”

His ears flicked to the sides. “Your breathing changed.”

Astrid pushed herself to sitting. She was sore. Everywhere. Her legs ached from walking nearly the entire day prior, and the sting between her thighs was indescribable. As she picked at the fish, a flash of silver caught the scales from the strips of sunlight streaming through the edges of the door’s cloth. Suddenly, she remembered her initial reason for traveling to Birala River. “I didn’t know minotaurs liked fish.”

“We like many things.” There was a grin in his voice, though it didn’t properly show on his bovine face. “My tribe cares for the ones you eat now.”

She nibbled on one of the cuts. It certainly tasted like a slitherscale. “How do you care for fish if you’re always moving camp?”

Rikohr shrugged and set his axe aside. “We carry them in buckets, then build dams in rivers and ponds and keep them there.” He snorted and shook his head. “Sometimes that doesn’t work. Zydiax built the newest dam wrong. We lost many of our fish.”

Astrid snorted and ate another bite. At least she had her answer for the Guild Hall, though what it cost her was still up for debate.

“You’re beginning to sound like us.” Rikohr chuckled, then mirrored her snort. “Our rutting was good for you.”

More than you know. Astrid blushed and pulled the fur closer to her stomach. She changed the subject. “How do you know so much of my language, Rikohr?”

“That is not for you to know.”

Astrid nodded and reached for another piece of fish. “Alright.” She chewed thoughtfully while she watched Rikohr’s tail flick from side to side. It moved so much differently than hers. More…erratic. “You know, there are still plenty of your fish in Birala River.”

“That is what I sent Aredir with four men to collect. The fish.”

“That’s what I was there for, too. Those fish,” Astrid said wryly.

“What do you want with them?”

“Nothing. They’re killing the other fish in the river, and I was told to see why.” Astrid finished the last fish in her last bowl, then licked her fingers. “Now I know why.”

Rikohr stiffened. “Who told you to see?”

“Ronona. The main capital, as you’re familiar with.”

“What will you tell them?” He glowered down at her, huffing through his nostrils.

“That you accidentally released them, and to give you a week to collect them. After that, they should kill them off as needed,” Astrid replied honestly.

“What of my tribe?”

“I’ll tell them to leave you alone. I don’t have to give your present location to do that.” Astrid lingered on her words, carefully watching his expression, ears, and tail. “I can only do so if you let me leave alive.”

Rikohr’s left ear flicked inward, and his tail swatted to the side. Annoyance? “You are still my gift to share.”

A tiny part of her hoped he would free her now. A darker, louder part of her hummed with curiosity despite her aches. “After, then?”

Both of Rikohr’s ears tilted forward, and his tail settled; then he nodded once. “After.” He craned his neck to see her bowl empty and handed her a waterskin. “Drink this and follow me.” Pushing himself to his feet, Rikohr walked to the door on hooves as thick as Astrid’s thigh.

“Naked?” Astrid didn’t want to reveal her [Combat Mode], but a bit of fur or even a cloth like the one that hung over the door would have been preferable.

Rikhor laughed, pushed the cloth aside, and looked at her expectantly.

Astrid emerged from the fur, noting the violet bruises on her hip and shoulder from Rikhor’s grip, then followed him with as much dignity as she could muster.

Strolling past a group of minotaurs naked felt much different than her time in the mirror slime’s caverns or among the wild Encroachers of the forest. These eyes took her measure and judged her as nothing more than a plaything. It was a wonder that Rikohr had fed her breakfast first. She took a swig of water from the skin and tried not to think about it.

“Rikohr,” Astrid whispered, glancing to her sides. “Why are we passing the other houses?” She wasn’t sure if they called them yurts, but they were ignoring them all the same.

“Follow,” Rikohr growled, much as his companion had the day before. Astrid took another drink and quickened her pace to keep up with him.

They walked into the forest, headed in the opposite direction from where Astrid had arrived the day before. The two minotaurs on the perimeter joined behind her—one of them was Aredir. His hair and fur were a golden yellow compared to his companions, and the second soldier only had one earring to Aredir’s three. Rings must designate rank, she noted, exchanging her fretful imaginings for more factual studies.

Rikohr stopped suddenly, and Astrid nearly collided with his back. “Here.”

She stepped to Rikohr’s right to find a large, flat slab of red and black granite raised off the ground, thanks to three rough-hewn boulders set beneath it. Like a table. More concerning than the strange table were the two additional minotaurs standing across from their group, one at each point of the slab.

Rikohr spoke to his subordinates with the grunts, snorts, clicks, and growls Astrid had heard him exchange with Aredir. This time, however, lacked the angry twitches and flicks of their tails and ears. No, instead, the four minotaurs unfastened the belts that held up their loincloths.

‘You are my gift to share.’ Rikohr had said.

With all of them at once?!

Astrid spun to face Rikohr with wide eyes. His thick lips pulled back into a confident sneer. She was positive that it was exactly the emotion he was trying to convey.

“Rikohr—”

“They will not harm you.” Rikohr reached forward and snatched Astrid around the waist. He lifted her over his shoulder and approached the table.

“Rikohr!” Astrid shrieked and raked her nails along his back.

“You asked me to break you,” Rikohr growled as he set her flank on the cold stone. He stepped back and opened his palms, catching the eyes of his subordinates. “My gift to you.”

A minotaur behind her grabbed a fistful of her hair and forced her head back. Aredir snatched her feet, and together, they laid her prone on the table.

Four hands and two muzzles eagerly explored her breasts and stomach. Astrid gasped and squirmed beneath the licks, bites, pinches, and gropes. Hot tongues grazed her nipples; teeth sank into the line of her hips. It was impossible to tell whose hand belonged to whom.

The minotaur that had remained behind her pulled her hair until her head craned backward off of the table, baring her throat and forcing her gaze from those below her neck. He pinched her chin and pressed her mouth open before sliding his cock down her throat.

“Khurus. Too fast,” Rikohr admonished.

He…he was watching…

Khurus snorted and leaned harder against Astrid’s mouth. Her back arched to compensate, and she instinctively reached up to push him away. The minotaurs on her sides snapped her wrists mid-flight and pinned them to the table amid their machinations. She clenched her eyes closed and fought to breathe around the sudden insertion.

Rikohr snapped his teeth and growled. Aredir snarled something in reply. Astrid felt her legs part, and Aredir’s hands grip her thighs. Her lower half tensed with the expectation of a second sudden penetration.

Instead, a soaked, searing heat parted her folds and lapped hungrily at her clit.

Astrid choked on her moan, whimpering around Khurus’s shaft. A second stroke came that felt like it lasted a lifetime, cradling her clit at its center. How long are their tongues?! Suddenly, her nipples were much more sensitive to the tongues at her breasts, her skin more welcoming of their teeth. Despite Khurus’s ruthless advance, Astrid’s throat relaxed.

Khurus laughed and plunged deeper. He didn’t share Rikohr’s girth, but the length still came as a shock.

The momentary discomfort vanished when Aredir tested her opening with his tongue. The curling warmth teased Astrid until she was dizzy. Then he penetrated her with it, roaming and tasting her walls with a fervent curiosity.

Astrid’s toes curled, and her whimpers grew louder, vibrating down the length of Khurus’s shaft. He caressed the lower section of her bared throat with his thumb and thrust forward until her lips reached his base. “I am here,” he growled with pleasure. “I feel it.”

The minotaur to her left lifted her pinned hand and brought it to his cock. I wanted this. She uncurled her fingers and wrapped them around the underside. I…want this. She ran her palm along his length, stroking the raised vein all the way to the head and back. It was difficult to keep a steady rhythm—the movements and explorations of Aredir’s tongue made her twitch and grasp harder at times. But the minotaur in her hand groaned and rocked his hips in tandem with her movements, creating a better pace. On her right, the minotaur opposite caught on and did the same, moving her hand to the underside of his shaft.

The addition of her hands only added to their excitement. Their mouths touched every exposed inch of her skin, and they hovered in the places that earned them sounds from her stuffed throat.

Aredir withdrew his tongue and spread her legs wider. This time, her heat met with the head of his shaft. He pierced her without hesitation. Her fingers curled tighter around the two cocks in her hands, and she sucked hard against the one in her mouth.

They had prepared her well—Astrid’s dripping sex surrendered to Aredir’s without complaint. He laid a hand on her lower abdomen and pressed down as he thrust deeper, and Astrid squealed.

The minotaur on the right said something in their language. Aredir snorted a chuckle.

Ten pairs of eyes watched her. Eight hands held her in place. She could hardly move, and the beasts around her were built for mates almost three times her size.

And still her hips ground down against Aredir’s cock with an ardent need that she could explain to no one.

Khurus picked up his pace, and Aredir matched him. They moved in mind-numbing tandem, withdrawing and advancing at the same time. Their pattern made her throat and core tense on every impact, and she ached with need during every void.

On Astrid’s left, the minotaur cupped his hand over hers and guided her into a faster, preferred rhythm. She continued to move her right hand, though it was impossible to concentrate.

Aredir groaned, and his climax exploded inside her. Khurus made three more rotations of his hips before following, coating her throat and tongue in his seed. It dribbled down the corners of her mouth and dripped down her face. Then the beast to her left groaned and held tightly to her hand, massaging the head of his cock as he spent himself over her stomach.

“Now me,” the minotaur on the right growled.

“Move here, Sirtak,” Aredir said, withdrawing from Astrid, spilling their exertions on the granite.

“Then Tungrin moves here,” Khurus chuckled and let his cock slip out of her mouth.

Astrid gasped for air as Sirtak traded places with Aredir, and Tungrin stood by her head. Sirtak grunted and snapped his teeth, and they were suddenly flipping Astrid onto her stomach.

“On your knees,” Aredir said.

Astrid’s limbs quivered as she pushed herself to her hands and knees. The cold stone bit into her skin, but the ache between her legs begged for the undeniable.

More!

Sirtak grumbled another series of foreign sounds, then lifted her tail and shoved two thick fingers inside of her to the last knuckle.

Astrid cried out, and the group laughed. Sirtak wrapped her tail around his hand, added a third finger, and then mercilessly pumped them in and out of her.

“Ha— ah— hah!” Astrid howled to the sky. Her back arched, and her eyes rolled back. She spread her legs wider to allow him easier access. More hands fondled her breasts. Tungrin took advantage of her open mouth with his shaft.

Sirtak wrenched his hand away and struck Astrid’s flank. Her moan against Tungrin was cut short when Sirtak plunged his cock inside of her.

Yes!

Still sensitive from their first round, Astrid teetered on the edge of climax. Sirtak fucked the last of her delicious tension into obedience and sent her to her apex.

Astrid closed her eyes and drank in the sharp, tiny pulses that fought against Sirtak’s girth. Her fingers curled, and her nails bit into her skin. Tungrin’s hips met her jawline, and he groaned with her, stroking a hand through her hair.

While she revelled in her constant orgasm, Tungrin gently toyed with her ear, and she leaned into his hand. He seemed more careful than the others, and she rewarded him for it with her tongue. Tungrin gasped and snorted, leaning forward as she teased just beneath the head of his shaft. As soon as she encompassed him with her mouth again, he released his seed.

“She likes you, Tungrin,” Aredir chuckled.

“She likes this,” Rikohr corrected.

Sirtak chuckled and thrust into her harder. “She is good.”

Tungrin pulled out, and Astrid’s cries returned to the forest. The throbbing continued, and Sirtak was building her into another orgasm. Tungrin knelt, his hand still fingering her ear, and nuzzled his cheek against hers. He reached between her arms and massaged her breast, dragging his thumb over her nipple and harvesting a new crop of goosebumps.

Sirtak and Khurus groaned and exchanged a quick series of grunts. Sirtak’s climax sent Astrid into her second orgasm; this time, her cries were unimpeded. Tungrin purred and nuzzled her cheek and throat, still occupied with her ear and breast. Khurus’s fist was clenched around his shaft, and he laid a hand on Astrid’s back as he released another viscous load against her side.

As Sirtak withdrew, Astrid rasped for air, riding out her climax in a haze. Seed trickled from her lips and escaped down her thighs. Her hair was sticky with it. More coated her stomach and side, dripping onto the red table. Her chest heaved in shuddering, shallow breaths, and she slowly lowered her flank onto her calves.

Tungrin cupped her face in both hands, and Astrid realized the large eyes that returned her stare were blue. He groaned and grunted softly, with the same timbre as murmuring sweet nothings to a bed companion.

Saoirse… Please forgive me.

Astrid crawled toward Tungrin, to the edge of the granite, and spread her legs. Khurus grunted, spat, and slammed an angry hoof against the dirt. Tungrin carefully lifted her thighs, just enough to fit himself to her slit, then inched his shaft inside of her.

She wrapped her legs around his hips and settled down around him. Tungrin’s expansive warmth lured moans from her tongue, and more croons reached her ear.

Hooves struck the ground, and Rikohr was suddenly beside him. His grunts seemed angry, and Tungrin retorted with a snort. Another angry growl and snap of his teeth seemed to break Tungrin into submission. He lifted Astrid beneath the thighs and turned to face Rikohr.

Rikohr parted the cheeks of her backside and buried his shaft inside her.

A screaming moan ripped from Astrid’s throat. What was he thinking? There was such a small section of skin between them, and with their size, it may as well not have been there.

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Tungrin crooned from somewhere far away, and Rikohr snapped his teeth. The crooning stopped.

“How do you feel now?” Rikohr growled.

“Full! Too full!” Astrid struggled to find anything or anyone to hold on to. Their shoulders were too high. Tungrin’s hands held her thighs while Rikohr kept her cheeks spread.

Rikohr lifted her up, then let her slide back down the dual cocks. Another inevitability. There was no escaping them. Escaping him.

“Does it sate you?” Rikohr asked.

“W-what?”

“You spread yourself like a beast in heat.” Rikohr dug his nails into her scalp and lifted her again. “Do I sate you?”

“Y-yes! A-ah!” Astrid cried as she sank around them.

“Then break.”

As Rikohr unleashed his will upon her, Astrid realized that he’d held himself back in their first encounter. The world became a blur. Her words and screams were unintelligible. The others watched with interest, and Tungrin remained quiet, though there was a shred of concern still in his gaze.

Finally, something in Astrid did break.

Astrid climaxed around them both, and she laughed. But they kept going, chaining her into a second climax. Then a third. She reached the point of ecstasy where nothing else mattered. So long as they kept fucking her, nothing else mattered.

Even after Rikohr and Tungrin were spent, she ran her fingers over her clit, then sucked the elixir away. They laid her on the table, still willing, still craving.  

Tungrin looked at Rikohr. “Keep?”

“No, Tungrin,” Rikohr said. A quiet, collective groan sounded around her. After a time, he looked at her warily and added, “Astrid must go.”

Two-Faced Slitherscale Report

Astrid of Khasstead

As many of us are familiar with, slitherscales are a fish Encroacher that inhabit the oceans of Nyarlea. These large fish run up to two feet in length, and typically feature bright green scales with billowing yellow fins on their two tails.

The fish currently inhabiting Birala River are a new species of slitherscale, created by a roaming tribe of minotaurs many years ago. They have evolved to survive in fresh water or salt water, though they are an invasive species for unprepared freshwater fish. The minotaurs have agreed to remove them, and all remaining after one week of this writing may be removed.

The minotaurs are not to be bothered. Slaying the tribe outside of Ronona was an error that should not be repeated. They have culture, language, beliefs, and history. From today forward, the Guild Hall should mark them as a protected speci—

The ink streaked across the page as Rikohr tore Astrid from her work and bent her over the table he’d brought in from another yurt.

“One more,” he growled. “Just one more.”

She gasped. Her ink-stained fingers blotted the parchment and stained the wood as her minotaur captor thrust his cock inside of her.

Her lips parted, her throat strained, and he cupped a hand over her mouth.

“Do not scream,” Rikohr commanded. “The others will hear you.”

Astrid’s back arched, and she swallowed her moan.

Just one more.