Seeds of Heroism - Chapter 38
Chapter 38 – content: >!castration, violence, death, implied rape, slavery, eating testicles!<
[A guide to the world of Bythos!](https://imgur.com/a/poZLPkK)
“Man, I can’t wait for Cillia to take over. Have you seen those babes they’ve got fighting for them? They’re all tall, fit and beautiful. And my Goddess, *those tits*, you could suck on those all day and never get bored!”
The young man next to him shot him a doubtful look. “You really think we’re going to score when they put down the resistance?” All around them, people loaded crates full of weapons, arrows and other war material onto a cart. “People say they hate men with a passion.”
His veteran friend blew him a raspberry. “These girls just have standards, man. Plus, do you really think they’re going to be nice to guys that tried to kill them? That’s not us. We’re helping them pacify the parts of the city they have under control and take over the rest!” He strained as he loaded a chest onto the cart. “I mean, just think, these girls have marched from Hôdoburg all the way to Calvino, doing nothing but fighting along the way. They’re gonna be craving cock like a triple-cunted hooker in a Valesian cloister. We get on their good side early and it’ll be an all-you-can-fuck buffet!”
“If you say so…”
“I am, that’s just how girls work, nothing but cock on the brain,” he proclaimed and made a show of grabbing his crotch. “Fuck, just thinking about it gets me hard.” His young compatriot snarled in disgust. “Don’t gimme that, I know you’ve been on a dry spell as well. Ever since that asshole raped the princess, the girls in town are looking for any excuse to kick a guy in the nuts.”
“They say he’s innocent.”
The older man guffawed. “Oh please, the guy realized he had the chance to pump a princess full of cum and took it. You think he would have high-tailed it to Cillia if his dick wasn’t dripping with the princess's juices? Honestly, I don’t blame him. That little princess is a cutie, if I could, I definitely would give that little strawberry pie a cream filling, if you know what I mean,” he laughed.
“Come on, man, I don’t want to hear that,” his companion said, looking uncomfortable.
“Hello, boys,” a sultry voice said, and both men as well as the guys around them, flinched and turned towards the sound.
Out of a shadowed alley, a bronze-skinned beauty walked towards them, swaying seductively. She wore a vest over her bare chest, which did nothing to hide the small but pert tits on her, jiggling with each step. In contrast to her chest, the woman was much more bottom-heavy, her wide hips promising a glorious ass if only she’d turn around. Her shame was only covered by a long, white loincloth, the fabric hanging down to her ankles while only held up by two thin ropes that looked to give out and expose her to all onlookers at any time. Her midriff was entirely uncovered, and she was barefoot, her lithe steps barely making a sound on the cobblestone.
“Who the fuck are you? What do you want?”
She held up her hands soothingly and cocked an eyebrow. “Relax, I just saw all you big, sweaty men, and I thought you might be looking for some fun. I’m Mina. I haven’t had fun in such a long time.”
At this, the older guy relaxed and seized her up with an appreciative look. He circled her, rubbing his chin, and to his delight, her ass was indeed a work of art. He couldn’t wait to pound into it. “You’re in luck, honey. We’re *experts* at having fun. Why don’t you and I start?” *Smack*. A red handprint rapidly formed on her butt cheek and she yelped. “Anyone ever told you that you’d look really cute with a dick in your mouth?”
She lightly touched a hand against his chest, stroking it lightly. The girl smiled brightly. “Oh, thank you! There’s just one problem.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that, girlie?”
Her piercing steel-blue eyes held his gaze. “I can’t wrap my lips around your cock if it’s lying in the gutter.”
He frowned. “Wha-”
Her hand flicked her loincloth aside, revealing a dagger dangling between her legs. She grasped his entire package in her hand, pinching her fingers together toward the base. It served to press his nuts away from his body, creating space for her weapon.
In one fluid motion, she sliced the dagger through the bulge in her hand. He shrieked and half-jumped, half-fell backwards, but his manhood remained in her hand.
“Fuck, what the fuck!”
“Oh Goddess!”
“Kill her!”
The young man was the first one to draw his weapon, the shock of the sudden attack blown away by the sight of his friend’s bleeding crotch. As soon as the blade had left its scabbard, however, a thin silver flash shot through between his legs and hit the cart behind him with a loud *thwack*.
Startled by the attack, he jumped to the side, rolling along the floor. He heard something tear, and at first he thought he had torn a hole in his pants. Then he felt a strange, wet sensation forming between his legs. Looking back, he saw the bolt that had flown towards him jerk up and down in the cart. On it was some kind of bubble. A second later, his gaze snapped to his crotch. The moment he realized that his roll had torn his pierced testicle away from his body, the pain registered.
His screams were music to the ears of one of the twins. The other sported a decidedly sour look on her face. “That’ll be five soldini, please.”
With a growl, her twin handed her the money. “I can’t believe you made him rip out his own nut, men are so freaking stupid.”
“Stop fooling around and start shooting,” Irene yelled. “We can’t let them get away!”
Both twins rolled their eyes but picked up their crossbows and got to work. Their nonchalance was warranted. In the street below, the men that didn’t immediately surrender were quickly dispatched or dealt with.
“Don’t know what you’re so strung up about.” She watched Mina throw the genitals in her hand into an attacker’s face, which bought her enough time to stab him twice in the groin. “These collaborators are all danglers, they are no threat.”
“Never discount the impact of even the smallest actions. I will never forgive myself if they capture the city because we were negligent today. The princ-, ahem, I mean our leader has given me control of this operation and I don’t intend to disappoint her.”
“Where is our little hurricane, anyway?”
Despina watched their attack unfold from the window of an abandoned building. Several pillows lifted her off the chilly window sill. Officially, she had given Irene command of the operation to establish a chain of command. Her breath came hard and hot and it fogged the window. Each new foot slamming into a pair of balls was met with a moan, each scrotum sliced apart by a sword strike rewarded with a curl of her toes. Unofficially, there were some other benefits to having Irene in command today.
Her pleasure was abruptly ended when she spied a mass of people moving along a small alley towards the backyard square. They moved in formation, each boot striking the ground at the same time.
“No, no, no! Fuck!” Her hand flew from her pussy, drawing a long, slimy string. She struggled into her pants and as soon as she had laced up her breeches, ran from the room and down the stairs of the building.
By the time she stumbled out of the door, the Cillian forces had engaged the resistance. No, not just the resistance, but the men that wanted to help them as well. What had been a meticulous ambush threatened to descend into chaos.
She watched the soldiers hack into a woman she had briefly seen at the Vecchio. Her screams were cut short before they could reach Despina. The young man that had one of his balls shot off reached a hopeful hand towards the women. His hope turned to desperation when his last remaining nut was speared by the soldier he had entreated to rescue him. Like a pack of wolves, three of the Cillian soldiers descended on his crotch and tore the perforated testicle apart with their bare hands.
Despite their crazed grins, despite the animalistic howl they gave when they spotted a scrotum, they attacked in formation, covering each other’s side. They were much more coordinated than the band of collaborators.
Their grins were not their only unnerving feature. Despina realized with a start that they wore practically no armour. In fact, they seemed to be almost naked beneath their surcoat. More than once she saw a nipple flash from beneath the fabric when the woman it belonged to swung her weapon.
She saw a unit of five soldiers engage Mina, the bronze-skinned adventuress. The bronze-skinned woman ducked, dodged and dipped to avoid their swords, but couldn’t find an opportunity to strike back. She was only armed with a dagger, against five trained fighters outranging her.
Her luck seemed to change when, from behind, a bolt struck the rightmost soldier. She immediately sprung forward and slammed the dagger into the woman’s side and retreated. Mina had already turned her attention to her other opponents, when she and Despina both felt their jaws drop. The injured soldier continued to advance on her, ignorant of the bolt in her chest or the stab wound in her side.
Despina shot forward. She hadn’t even noticed herself cast the spell. It had taken her an annoying amount of time to adjust to the enchantment, as it felt like a completely different application of magic. Wind could be used to shoot a rock at someone’s crotch, or to slice apart a pair of balls directly, but transferring an aspect of the wind into herself… Still, now her feet cracked onto the cobbles in a staccato as she flew towards Mina.
“For Calvino!”
There was no time for long speeches. She slammed her sword into the soldier’s arm, and then herself into her chest. They toppled to the ground in a pile of limbs.
She felt hands grab her, try to choke her. Panic screamed in her mind. Despina tried to channel mana, but it wouldn’t obey her, the words to form a spell out of reach behind the crippling fear that had gripped her.
Something hard pressed into her hand and, without thinking, she grasped it and thrust it forward. Flesh tore beneath steel, breaths gurgled as lungs filled with blood and again and again she stabbed, until the hands on her went limp.
Before she had even got her feet under her, another soldier had grasped the woman she had just stabbed and dragged her away. From a pouch they all carried on their hips, she took a vial with a slimy black liquid. The soldier dumped the liquid into her comrade’s bloodied mouth.
Terror gripped the princess. She and the woman she had just stabbed both rose to their feet. The soldier looked none the worse for wear, excepting the holes in her uniform. No one could have survived that many stab wounds, she was sure of it!
A savage grin split the soldier’s face so far that blood seeped from the corners of her mouth. She picked her weapon back up.
“That’s… impossible… I killed her…” Despina murmured.
She went numb to the surrounding battle. Mina screamed something while she parried a strike headed for Despina’s back. The bronze-skinned woman was slammed aside by an armoured gauntlet crashing into her face, knocking out a tooth and swelling her right eye shut.
A soldier tried to impale the princess from behind but was struck down by two crossbow bolts.
The woman she had stabbed headed for her and raised her weapon.
*How can we hope to offer resistance to these monsters? What hope is there for Calvino to cling to?*
She closed her eyes.
Metal cut through air, then fabric and flesh. The head made a sickening noise as it hit the ground, rolling forward like a gruesome toy. It bumped against Despina’s feet.
Her eyes fluttered open. With wonder, she regarded the tall, blond woman devastating the soldiers in front of her. Her sword cut through them with ease. In her hand rested a gnarly shield littered with crosses.
She waited just long enough to not put them both in danger before she launched herself at the woman. Her arms flung around her sweaty and bloodied neck.
Despina laughed in relief, but the chortles quickly turned to sobs. The princess buried her head into the nape of Leonia's neck.
The woman’s mouth twisted sympathetically and she rubbed her back.
“I'm back, your highness.”
The battle raged around the two motionless figures. But the resistance now had the upper hand thanks to Leonia, who had cut a chasm through the soldiers on her way to the princess. Despina hung onto the former knight captain for dear life, fully intending to never let her go again.
Their tender moment was interrupted by the twins. “Well, well, well, if it isn't the tall bitch. We didn't think we'd be seeing you ever again, did we, sister?”
“We didn't, in fact, we thought you'd be lounging around in Hôdoburg somewhere, being fed grapes while squishing the grapes of boys,” her twin sister replied, grinning.
Leonia gently pushed the princess off her neck. “I came back because I had thought Andria safe among the ranks of the Valesian order… Just another one of my many mistakes. It is not one I can correct, unlike this one. I hope you will allow me to serve you again, if you can excuse such a selfish request, princess.”
Despina sniffed and brushed a lock of fire-red hair from her wet face. “I will o-overlook it this time. We-welcome back, Lea. I have expected you, of course.” She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I trust then that you have already heard the news about the moirai of light?”
Leonia nodded, her eyes downcast. “Yes. To think Bruna would go so far as to murder a moirai…”
The twins glanced at each other in confusion. “Bruna? The Cillian queen? What about that dangler the church is looking for, this Jim?”
Despina gritted her teeth. “He is being set up… again. We know him, he doesn't have the balls to murder in cold blood. But he definitely has the kind of big, stupid balls that would lead him to be at the wrong place and wrong time to be framed.”
Leonia nodded. “My gut tells me it has something to do with Cillia fighting in Jim's name. He might be involved in some kind of internal struggle.”
“Well, we have our own problems, Cillia has taken almost half the city. If we don't stop them soon, these monsters will be able to seize the palace,” Despina said.
“Your highness… Please heed me when I say this. We must flee the city.”
“WHAT? Lea, there's no way I'm abandoning Calvino, abandoning my family!”
“With the failure of the moirai's… of Andria's diplomatic mission, the war is lost. We stand no chance against the forces Cillia has brought to bear. Calvino is lost, you must see that. I'm begging you, save yourself.”
Despina's face had warped into an inveterate mask. “And leave my people to suffer under these tyrants? To run and hide and leave my family to die? You cannot expect me to agree to that!”
Leonia sadly shook her head. "No, but I hope that you see the wisdom in retreating and reorganizing, so that we might fight again."
“Fight *where*? If we surrender Calvino, there is nothing left, we need to stop them here or die trying!”
The twins suddenly spoke, no longer content to silently watch. “Your highness, as long as you live, Calvino lives. The city can be rebuilt, but if you were to die…”
“... then our kingdom would die alongside you,” her twin sister finished.
Leonia nodded. “I'm not asking you to lay down your weapons and scurry to some hidey-hole like a scared mouse. I'm asking you to bring the fight to Bruna. I'm asking you to accompany me in an attack on Hôdoburg.”
---
Several days had passed since the fighting in the city stopped. Violence would still erupt occasionally like a festering wound, but most of the fight had been beaten, kicked and cut out of the townsfolk.
The vast amount of crushed nuts had shocked Lucille, even as prepared as she was. When Cillia’s army had taken half the city, the streets ran red and white with pulped, severed, perforated and chopped testicles, so much so that the occupants had to pay a pair of beastkin women of aquatic descent to clean the river of destroyed manhoods lest they threaten to block the river grates and swamp the streets.
So much wasted nutmeat. It made Lucille’s blood boil.
Outwardly, the guild master was perfectly calm, but her hand tightly gripping her black parasol told of the anger raging inside her. She took a deep breath to calm herself and fastened her eyes on the gallows before her. She owed Isidora that much.
“Women and men of Calvino, long have you suffered under the tyrannical rule of the false queen Isidora. Painstakingly, you have carved out a miserable existence for yourselves while she lived off the fat of the land. But no more! Her reign ends today! For her crimes against the hero Jim, as well as the cruelties she has visited upon the innocent people of Cillia, we shall hold trial to judge what the lady Isidora’s just retributions shall be!”
Lucille had to admit, it hurt seeing her own asset used against her like that. She watched Effi, the queen’s newest Praetorian guard, lead this farce of a trial as if she hadn’t done anything else her whole life. The girl was remarkably adaptable, capable of making her way no matter the situation. Still, sending her to Calvino must have been Bruna’s way to send a message. *Stay out of my way, or I will destroy you just the same.*
Seeing Effi play judge, jury and executioner in front of this crowd meant she must have judged taking on this task to be necessary. Unless, of course, the demons Lucille knew lurked in the Cillian republic had got to her. It was obvious in hindsight. A necromancer in Gimeit, in this day and age? There was no way to learn the lost magic of necromancy, unless one made a pact with demons. After all, she herself had obliterated the necros spring 374 years ago.
It would make for one hell of a coincidence, however, if the demons would send her own asset of all people to tear down her most valuable resources. Lucille couldn’t believe that. One does not survive more than 1200 years believing in coincidences. It was her own fault for sending the girl to a woman she knew to be power-hungry and cruel.
“… sentence you to die by the sword!” The crowd of people shouted in anger, enraged by the injurious sentence. But impotent noises were all they were capable of, the soldiers keeping a close eye on the people and their weapons at the ready.
“But do not lose heart, fair people of Calvino! This is not the end but another beginning! The burden of their mother’s sins weighs heavily on house Coglione, which is why the wise queen Bruna has decreed that the first princess, the fair Cecilia, shall be stripped of her title, so that she may live her life free from the burden of her name as a commoner in Hôdoburg. The second princess, the honourable lady Tamara, shall be sent to an undisclosed cloister, to take the cloth and spend her life in prayer so that she may lighten her mother’s soul.”
The people waited with bated breath to hear what the fate of their beloved third princess was to be. Had she been captured? Or was she still at large, fighting against the tyranny of the Cillian queen?
“The noble prince Filippo has agreed to wed her majesty, the queen Bruna in a year and a day’s time, uniting the people of Calvino and Cillia in eternal friendship under a single crown. Hand in hand, our two nations shall walk towards a brighter future.” Effi took a moment to gather her breath, and so did the crowd. “Finally, any hints on the whereabouts of princess Despina will be rewar-”
The cheer from the crowd was deafening. They celebrated that the princess had given Cillia the slip, deaf to whatever reward their hated occupants were offering. Lucille felt a grim smile creep up on her face. At least she had been quick enough to save Despina.
Then, it was time for the moment she had dreaded ever since the news of Andria’s death had reached her. She saw the obstinate Isidora be led onto the gallows, hands shackled behind her back. No crown adorned her, no jewellery. She only wore a simple white penitential robe, but even so she still had an aura of refinement and power about her.
The execution was a quick thing. Isidora denied any last wish, and then her hair was shorn to lay bare her neck.
She was pushed down onto a wood stump and her end was at hand. But still, she glared at her people, her city, her kingdom with an unbroken will, refusing to let the Cillians make a mockery of her reign.
Her executioner stepped up from behind, a mask covering her face, but it was obvious she was one of the soldiers. Lucille committed the shape of her hands, the length of her legs and the breadth of her shoulders to memory. She would have to find her later.
After Effi pronounced her judgement once more, the executioner stepped up to her side and lifted a massive two-handed sword.
Lucille made sure not to close her eyes as it fell.
“Goodbye, my friend.”
She headed out into the streets of Calvino.
The guild master didn’t run, but still she flew along the alleys as the shadows lengthened. Her blood rushed through her veins the way it hadn’t in three centuries. True, it was anger urging it forward, not lust, but still she felt the need to hunt. Seeking pleasure would be a better outlet for her emotions than a fight.
She knew exactly where she could find a quarry that would soothe her turmoil. In the northern part of the city, a mansion stood quietly between an antique shop and an art gallery. A man had made his home there, rich, young and virile.
He had slowly made a fortune trafficking boys and girls to Cillia, supplying their slave trade with a great rarity. People of Calvino, powerless, ready to be abused and punished for the indignities their people were supposed to have committed a hundred years ago.
He had never taken anyone who would be missed, and never so many that it would raise eyebrows. Lucille wasn’t even sure if anyone had noticed, besides herself, of course. He had never been worth bothering with. Then he had been inducted into the royal knights. They had proven to be a group of turncoats and if she was being honest, she felt just a little bit vindictive.
The chaos Cillia had thrown the city into would provide an excellent cover.
Letting herself in was child’s play. She sniffed the air and located him talking to some other people on the ground floor. Judging by the faint smell of sweat and dried cum, his bedroom was on the second floor. She melded with the shadows behind his bed and waited, motionless, without making a sound for the next four hours.
Then, he came to bed.
She let him taste her breath first. A faint, sweet taste that whispered promises of pleasure he could not even begin to comprehend. But also of power, of a desire that would not be denied, that accepted no rejection.
Her eyes glowed an eerie orange as she watched him stiffen, a tell-tale mast rising beneath his sheets.
Next, she spoke to him. Words flowed out from her mouth and into his ear like faint smoke, sultry but terrible.
“I am owed, boy. A void yawns in me and you are blessed, for tonight I have chosen you to fill it. You will not deny me. You will fill me, give me everything you are, and we shall be as one. That is the pleasure I promise to you.”
He moaned but didn’t wake. His cock twitched already, eager to receive the pleasure she held.
Lucille smiled. She hadn’t forgotten a single thing in all these centuries.
Her black dress hit the floor. Bronze bangles were the only ornament that decorated her tall and shapely body. Her silhouette against the pale light of the night would have already made him climax, had he not been asleep. With a sigh, the velutinous brown ears on her head straightened up for the first time in years. She had almost forgotten how good it felt to be herself for a change, to remember what it meant to be one of the last living empousai.
Lucille did not waste any more time. She ripped away the sheets and the clothes he had worn to bed to see her prize.
She could smell how many virgins he had deflowered, the stink of their hymen sticking to his cock like a perfume. It would shock Lucille if even a third of the girls had given it willingly.
But in the end, that was what had led her here. He had taken against the will of others, so now it was his turn to give against his own will.
She grasped the wrinkly sack gently, feeling the heft of the two orbs within with a smile. Good, he hadn’t had time to relieve himself recently, or defile another street urchin. No doubt because of the war.
His balls hung heavily in his sack, quivering with anticipation. Lucille gifted them a chaste kiss.
His hips bucked, almost cumming from her kiss, but she had held back just enough. Fruitlessly, he thrust up into the air, trying to find some resistance that would push him over the edge.
Lucille watched him try to cum in vain for a minute before settling between his legs again.
A quick flick of her nails peeled away the scrotum, leaving his ripe gonads on display, ready to be enjoyed. He moaned in bliss.
She inhaled the scent of his raw testicles, sniffed the potential in them. Billions of unborn futures, the ideas and deeds they represented, the love they held and the despair they would plunge to. The raw potential of it all, squirming trapped inside these orbs, ready to be snuffed out to instead become a part of her.
Her split tongue wrapped around the smaller left testicle first. He gasped and moaned, and her claw shot out to pinch his penis at the base. She was just in time, preventing his orgasm and forcing his cum down and back into his balls.
She sucked the raw nut into her mouth and enjoyed feeling it on her tongue, letting it bounce up and down, pressing it against the roof of her mouth before sucking it down as deep into her throat as it would go.
But she didn’t possess the patience she once used to have. Lucille remembered nights when she would enjoy a testicle for hours, only ending it right before dawn. She had cut it very close in those days, often having to hurry back to her home with semen still staining her mouth, fleeing from the morning sun with only seconds to spare.
But those days were behind her. And tonight, after this day, she sought gratification. Her tongue swirled around the testicle and placed it between her molars.
She bit down, and bliss greater than a simple orgasm erupted in her loins. The crunch his nut made in her mouth was a symphony that rivalled the greatest composers. The taste that spilled out into her mouth was a delicacy more delightful than a feast lasting weeks. So enrapturing was her pleasure that she did not even mind him moaning loudly, thrusting his hips against her and dragging his penis across her forehead. Her fingers still held him firm and he would not spill himself before she had enjoyed his second nut.
She chewed and sucked, revelling in the feeling of her teeth crushing, grinding and cutting his gonad apart until no more was left of the fat ball. Sighing wistfully, she moved on to the right testicle.
Once she was sure he would not be cumming, she removed her fingers from his cock. The base of it was now blue and swollen.
She tickled the second ball with her tongue, teasing it. The empusa enjoyed his moans that, even asleep, grew more and more frustrated. She let the gonad dance from her tongue over her teeth, letting it scrape and catch against her canines as prelude to what awaited it. His essence of manhood flirted with its end inside her warm, wet mouth. Sometimes, she would press it against the roof of her mouth, enjoying how it squished and reinflated.
Then, it was finally time. She positioned his last testicle between her front teeth. Gently biting down, she probed the nut’s durability, pulling back before she started to damage it each time. Slowly, the bites started to wear down the shell of his nut and small tears appeared in it. She bit down, her teeth slicing into the testicle until they had cut into it halfway.
She drank him deeply. Her lips sealed around the base of his scrotum and as Lucille started sucking on the truncated ball, a nova of pleasure erupted in them both.
She moaned alongside him, her eyes closing and her lashes flickering as she sucked the insides out of his testicle. He convulsed and moaned, cum shooting out of his cock to splatter them both.
Lucille felt his nut lift to try and press out what cum it could, the motion only driving her teeth deeper into his manhood. In cumming, he sliced his own nut in two until with a little *squick* her teeth met in the middle.
She greedily swallowed one half of his testicle and then immediately continued sucking the remaining half dry.
All that was left a few minutes later was a single desiccated testicle that was even less than it should have been, a blackened raisin that looked to have been cut in half.
Lucille licked her lips and watched the last dregs of cum flow from his bruised, shrinking penis.
Maybe she should have done this sooner. It felt good to hunt for herself again and not rely on the testicles Chloe sold her.
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*[A guide to the world of Bythos!](https://imgur.com/uVKT2Kc)*
*Alright, I think that's enough setting the stage, time to go back to Jim.*
[A guide to the world of Bythos!](https://imgur.com/a/poZLPkK)
“Man, I can’t wait for Cillia to take over. Have you seen those babes they’ve got fighting for them? They’re all tall, fit and beautiful. And my Goddess, *those tits*, you could suck on those all day and never get bored!”
The young man next to him shot him a doubtful look. “You really think we’re going to score when they put down the resistance?” All around them, people loaded crates full of weapons, arrows and other war material onto a cart. “People say they hate men with a passion.”
His veteran friend blew him a raspberry. “These girls just have standards, man. Plus, do you really think they’re going to be nice to guys that tried to kill them? That’s not us. We’re helping them pacify the parts of the city they have under control and take over the rest!” He strained as he loaded a chest onto the cart. “I mean, just think, these girls have marched from Hôdoburg all the way to Calvino, doing nothing but fighting along the way. They’re gonna be craving cock like a triple-cunted hooker in a Valesian cloister. We get on their good side early and it’ll be an all-you-can-fuck buffet!”
“If you say so…”
“I am, that’s just how girls work, nothing but cock on the brain,” he proclaimed and made a show of grabbing his crotch. “Fuck, just thinking about it gets me hard.” His young compatriot snarled in disgust. “Don’t gimme that, I know you’ve been on a dry spell as well. Ever since that asshole raped the princess, the girls in town are looking for any excuse to kick a guy in the nuts.”
“They say he’s innocent.”
The older man guffawed. “Oh please, the guy realized he had the chance to pump a princess full of cum and took it. You think he would have high-tailed it to Cillia if his dick wasn’t dripping with the princess's juices? Honestly, I don’t blame him. That little princess is a cutie, if I could, I definitely would give that little strawberry pie a cream filling, if you know what I mean,” he laughed.
“Come on, man, I don’t want to hear that,” his companion said, looking uncomfortable.
“Hello, boys,” a sultry voice said, and both men as well as the guys around them, flinched and turned towards the sound.
Out of a shadowed alley, a bronze-skinned beauty walked towards them, swaying seductively. She wore a vest over her bare chest, which did nothing to hide the small but pert tits on her, jiggling with each step. In contrast to her chest, the woman was much more bottom-heavy, her wide hips promising a glorious ass if only she’d turn around. Her shame was only covered by a long, white loincloth, the fabric hanging down to her ankles while only held up by two thin ropes that looked to give out and expose her to all onlookers at any time. Her midriff was entirely uncovered, and she was barefoot, her lithe steps barely making a sound on the cobblestone.
“Who the fuck are you? What do you want?”
She held up her hands soothingly and cocked an eyebrow. “Relax, I just saw all you big, sweaty men, and I thought you might be looking for some fun. I’m Mina. I haven’t had fun in such a long time.”
At this, the older guy relaxed and seized her up with an appreciative look. He circled her, rubbing his chin, and to his delight, her ass was indeed a work of art. He couldn’t wait to pound into it. “You’re in luck, honey. We’re *experts* at having fun. Why don’t you and I start?” *Smack*. A red handprint rapidly formed on her butt cheek and she yelped. “Anyone ever told you that you’d look really cute with a dick in your mouth?”
She lightly touched a hand against his chest, stroking it lightly. The girl smiled brightly. “Oh, thank you! There’s just one problem.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that, girlie?”
Her piercing steel-blue eyes held his gaze. “I can’t wrap my lips around your cock if it’s lying in the gutter.”
He frowned. “Wha-”
Her hand flicked her loincloth aside, revealing a dagger dangling between her legs. She grasped his entire package in her hand, pinching her fingers together toward the base. It served to press his nuts away from his body, creating space for her weapon.
In one fluid motion, she sliced the dagger through the bulge in her hand. He shrieked and half-jumped, half-fell backwards, but his manhood remained in her hand.
“Fuck, what the fuck!”
“Oh Goddess!”
“Kill her!”
The young man was the first one to draw his weapon, the shock of the sudden attack blown away by the sight of his friend’s bleeding crotch. As soon as the blade had left its scabbard, however, a thin silver flash shot through between his legs and hit the cart behind him with a loud *thwack*.
Startled by the attack, he jumped to the side, rolling along the floor. He heard something tear, and at first he thought he had torn a hole in his pants. Then he felt a strange, wet sensation forming between his legs. Looking back, he saw the bolt that had flown towards him jerk up and down in the cart. On it was some kind of bubble. A second later, his gaze snapped to his crotch. The moment he realized that his roll had torn his pierced testicle away from his body, the pain registered.
His screams were music to the ears of one of the twins. The other sported a decidedly sour look on her face. “That’ll be five soldini, please.”
With a growl, her twin handed her the money. “I can’t believe you made him rip out his own nut, men are so freaking stupid.”
“Stop fooling around and start shooting,” Irene yelled. “We can’t let them get away!”
Both twins rolled their eyes but picked up their crossbows and got to work. Their nonchalance was warranted. In the street below, the men that didn’t immediately surrender were quickly dispatched or dealt with.
“Don’t know what you’re so strung up about.” She watched Mina throw the genitals in her hand into an attacker’s face, which bought her enough time to stab him twice in the groin. “These collaborators are all danglers, they are no threat.”
“Never discount the impact of even the smallest actions. I will never forgive myself if they capture the city because we were negligent today. The princ-, ahem, I mean our leader has given me control of this operation and I don’t intend to disappoint her.”
“Where is our little hurricane, anyway?”
Despina watched their attack unfold from the window of an abandoned building. Several pillows lifted her off the chilly window sill. Officially, she had given Irene command of the operation to establish a chain of command. Her breath came hard and hot and it fogged the window. Each new foot slamming into a pair of balls was met with a moan, each scrotum sliced apart by a sword strike rewarded with a curl of her toes. Unofficially, there were some other benefits to having Irene in command today.
Her pleasure was abruptly ended when she spied a mass of people moving along a small alley towards the backyard square. They moved in formation, each boot striking the ground at the same time.
“No, no, no! Fuck!” Her hand flew from her pussy, drawing a long, slimy string. She struggled into her pants and as soon as she had laced up her breeches, ran from the room and down the stairs of the building.
By the time she stumbled out of the door, the Cillian forces had engaged the resistance. No, not just the resistance, but the men that wanted to help them as well. What had been a meticulous ambush threatened to descend into chaos.
She watched the soldiers hack into a woman she had briefly seen at the Vecchio. Her screams were cut short before they could reach Despina. The young man that had one of his balls shot off reached a hopeful hand towards the women. His hope turned to desperation when his last remaining nut was speared by the soldier he had entreated to rescue him. Like a pack of wolves, three of the Cillian soldiers descended on his crotch and tore the perforated testicle apart with their bare hands.
Despite their crazed grins, despite the animalistic howl they gave when they spotted a scrotum, they attacked in formation, covering each other’s side. They were much more coordinated than the band of collaborators.
Their grins were not their only unnerving feature. Despina realized with a start that they wore practically no armour. In fact, they seemed to be almost naked beneath their surcoat. More than once she saw a nipple flash from beneath the fabric when the woman it belonged to swung her weapon.
She saw a unit of five soldiers engage Mina, the bronze-skinned adventuress. The bronze-skinned woman ducked, dodged and dipped to avoid their swords, but couldn’t find an opportunity to strike back. She was only armed with a dagger, against five trained fighters outranging her.
Her luck seemed to change when, from behind, a bolt struck the rightmost soldier. She immediately sprung forward and slammed the dagger into the woman’s side and retreated. Mina had already turned her attention to her other opponents, when she and Despina both felt their jaws drop. The injured soldier continued to advance on her, ignorant of the bolt in her chest or the stab wound in her side.
Despina shot forward. She hadn’t even noticed herself cast the spell. It had taken her an annoying amount of time to adjust to the enchantment, as it felt like a completely different application of magic. Wind could be used to shoot a rock at someone’s crotch, or to slice apart a pair of balls directly, but transferring an aspect of the wind into herself… Still, now her feet cracked onto the cobbles in a staccato as she flew towards Mina.
“For Calvino!”
There was no time for long speeches. She slammed her sword into the soldier’s arm, and then herself into her chest. They toppled to the ground in a pile of limbs.
She felt hands grab her, try to choke her. Panic screamed in her mind. Despina tried to channel mana, but it wouldn’t obey her, the words to form a spell out of reach behind the crippling fear that had gripped her.
Something hard pressed into her hand and, without thinking, she grasped it and thrust it forward. Flesh tore beneath steel, breaths gurgled as lungs filled with blood and again and again she stabbed, until the hands on her went limp.
Before she had even got her feet under her, another soldier had grasped the woman she had just stabbed and dragged her away. From a pouch they all carried on their hips, she took a vial with a slimy black liquid. The soldier dumped the liquid into her comrade’s bloodied mouth.
Terror gripped the princess. She and the woman she had just stabbed both rose to their feet. The soldier looked none the worse for wear, excepting the holes in her uniform. No one could have survived that many stab wounds, she was sure of it!
A savage grin split the soldier’s face so far that blood seeped from the corners of her mouth. She picked her weapon back up.
“That’s… impossible… I killed her…” Despina murmured.
She went numb to the surrounding battle. Mina screamed something while she parried a strike headed for Despina’s back. The bronze-skinned woman was slammed aside by an armoured gauntlet crashing into her face, knocking out a tooth and swelling her right eye shut.
A soldier tried to impale the princess from behind but was struck down by two crossbow bolts.
The woman she had stabbed headed for her and raised her weapon.
*How can we hope to offer resistance to these monsters? What hope is there for Calvino to cling to?*
She closed her eyes.
Metal cut through air, then fabric and flesh. The head made a sickening noise as it hit the ground, rolling forward like a gruesome toy. It bumped against Despina’s feet.
Her eyes fluttered open. With wonder, she regarded the tall, blond woman devastating the soldiers in front of her. Her sword cut through them with ease. In her hand rested a gnarly shield littered with crosses.
She waited just long enough to not put them both in danger before she launched herself at the woman. Her arms flung around her sweaty and bloodied neck.
Despina laughed in relief, but the chortles quickly turned to sobs. The princess buried her head into the nape of Leonia's neck.
The woman’s mouth twisted sympathetically and she rubbed her back.
“I'm back, your highness.”
The battle raged around the two motionless figures. But the resistance now had the upper hand thanks to Leonia, who had cut a chasm through the soldiers on her way to the princess. Despina hung onto the former knight captain for dear life, fully intending to never let her go again.
Their tender moment was interrupted by the twins. “Well, well, well, if it isn't the tall bitch. We didn't think we'd be seeing you ever again, did we, sister?”
“We didn't, in fact, we thought you'd be lounging around in Hôdoburg somewhere, being fed grapes while squishing the grapes of boys,” her twin sister replied, grinning.
Leonia gently pushed the princess off her neck. “I came back because I had thought Andria safe among the ranks of the Valesian order… Just another one of my many mistakes. It is not one I can correct, unlike this one. I hope you will allow me to serve you again, if you can excuse such a selfish request, princess.”
Despina sniffed and brushed a lock of fire-red hair from her wet face. “I will o-overlook it this time. We-welcome back, Lea. I have expected you, of course.” She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I trust then that you have already heard the news about the moirai of light?”
Leonia nodded, her eyes downcast. “Yes. To think Bruna would go so far as to murder a moirai…”
The twins glanced at each other in confusion. “Bruna? The Cillian queen? What about that dangler the church is looking for, this Jim?”
Despina gritted her teeth. “He is being set up… again. We know him, he doesn't have the balls to murder in cold blood. But he definitely has the kind of big, stupid balls that would lead him to be at the wrong place and wrong time to be framed.”
Leonia nodded. “My gut tells me it has something to do with Cillia fighting in Jim's name. He might be involved in some kind of internal struggle.”
“Well, we have our own problems, Cillia has taken almost half the city. If we don't stop them soon, these monsters will be able to seize the palace,” Despina said.
“Your highness… Please heed me when I say this. We must flee the city.”
“WHAT? Lea, there's no way I'm abandoning Calvino, abandoning my family!”
“With the failure of the moirai's… of Andria's diplomatic mission, the war is lost. We stand no chance against the forces Cillia has brought to bear. Calvino is lost, you must see that. I'm begging you, save yourself.”
Despina's face had warped into an inveterate mask. “And leave my people to suffer under these tyrants? To run and hide and leave my family to die? You cannot expect me to agree to that!”
Leonia sadly shook her head. "No, but I hope that you see the wisdom in retreating and reorganizing, so that we might fight again."
“Fight *where*? If we surrender Calvino, there is nothing left, we need to stop them here or die trying!”
The twins suddenly spoke, no longer content to silently watch. “Your highness, as long as you live, Calvino lives. The city can be rebuilt, but if you were to die…”
“... then our kingdom would die alongside you,” her twin sister finished.
Leonia nodded. “I'm not asking you to lay down your weapons and scurry to some hidey-hole like a scared mouse. I'm asking you to bring the fight to Bruna. I'm asking you to accompany me in an attack on Hôdoburg.”
---
Several days had passed since the fighting in the city stopped. Violence would still erupt occasionally like a festering wound, but most of the fight had been beaten, kicked and cut out of the townsfolk.
The vast amount of crushed nuts had shocked Lucille, even as prepared as she was. When Cillia’s army had taken half the city, the streets ran red and white with pulped, severed, perforated and chopped testicles, so much so that the occupants had to pay a pair of beastkin women of aquatic descent to clean the river of destroyed manhoods lest they threaten to block the river grates and swamp the streets.
So much wasted nutmeat. It made Lucille’s blood boil.
Outwardly, the guild master was perfectly calm, but her hand tightly gripping her black parasol told of the anger raging inside her. She took a deep breath to calm herself and fastened her eyes on the gallows before her. She owed Isidora that much.
“Women and men of Calvino, long have you suffered under the tyrannical rule of the false queen Isidora. Painstakingly, you have carved out a miserable existence for yourselves while she lived off the fat of the land. But no more! Her reign ends today! For her crimes against the hero Jim, as well as the cruelties she has visited upon the innocent people of Cillia, we shall hold trial to judge what the lady Isidora’s just retributions shall be!”
Lucille had to admit, it hurt seeing her own asset used against her like that. She watched Effi, the queen’s newest Praetorian guard, lead this farce of a trial as if she hadn’t done anything else her whole life. The girl was remarkably adaptable, capable of making her way no matter the situation. Still, sending her to Calvino must have been Bruna’s way to send a message. *Stay out of my way, or I will destroy you just the same.*
Seeing Effi play judge, jury and executioner in front of this crowd meant she must have judged taking on this task to be necessary. Unless, of course, the demons Lucille knew lurked in the Cillian republic had got to her. It was obvious in hindsight. A necromancer in Gimeit, in this day and age? There was no way to learn the lost magic of necromancy, unless one made a pact with demons. After all, she herself had obliterated the necros spring 374 years ago.
It would make for one hell of a coincidence, however, if the demons would send her own asset of all people to tear down her most valuable resources. Lucille couldn’t believe that. One does not survive more than 1200 years believing in coincidences. It was her own fault for sending the girl to a woman she knew to be power-hungry and cruel.
“… sentence you to die by the sword!” The crowd of people shouted in anger, enraged by the injurious sentence. But impotent noises were all they were capable of, the soldiers keeping a close eye on the people and their weapons at the ready.
“But do not lose heart, fair people of Calvino! This is not the end but another beginning! The burden of their mother’s sins weighs heavily on house Coglione, which is why the wise queen Bruna has decreed that the first princess, the fair Cecilia, shall be stripped of her title, so that she may live her life free from the burden of her name as a commoner in Hôdoburg. The second princess, the honourable lady Tamara, shall be sent to an undisclosed cloister, to take the cloth and spend her life in prayer so that she may lighten her mother’s soul.”
The people waited with bated breath to hear what the fate of their beloved third princess was to be. Had she been captured? Or was she still at large, fighting against the tyranny of the Cillian queen?
“The noble prince Filippo has agreed to wed her majesty, the queen Bruna in a year and a day’s time, uniting the people of Calvino and Cillia in eternal friendship under a single crown. Hand in hand, our two nations shall walk towards a brighter future.” Effi took a moment to gather her breath, and so did the crowd. “Finally, any hints on the whereabouts of princess Despina will be rewar-”
The cheer from the crowd was deafening. They celebrated that the princess had given Cillia the slip, deaf to whatever reward their hated occupants were offering. Lucille felt a grim smile creep up on her face. At least she had been quick enough to save Despina.
Then, it was time for the moment she had dreaded ever since the news of Andria’s death had reached her. She saw the obstinate Isidora be led onto the gallows, hands shackled behind her back. No crown adorned her, no jewellery. She only wore a simple white penitential robe, but even so she still had an aura of refinement and power about her.
The execution was a quick thing. Isidora denied any last wish, and then her hair was shorn to lay bare her neck.
She was pushed down onto a wood stump and her end was at hand. But still, she glared at her people, her city, her kingdom with an unbroken will, refusing to let the Cillians make a mockery of her reign.
Her executioner stepped up from behind, a mask covering her face, but it was obvious she was one of the soldiers. Lucille committed the shape of her hands, the length of her legs and the breadth of her shoulders to memory. She would have to find her later.
After Effi pronounced her judgement once more, the executioner stepped up to her side and lifted a massive two-handed sword.
Lucille made sure not to close her eyes as it fell.
“Goodbye, my friend.”
She headed out into the streets of Calvino.
The guild master didn’t run, but still she flew along the alleys as the shadows lengthened. Her blood rushed through her veins the way it hadn’t in three centuries. True, it was anger urging it forward, not lust, but still she felt the need to hunt. Seeking pleasure would be a better outlet for her emotions than a fight.
She knew exactly where she could find a quarry that would soothe her turmoil. In the northern part of the city, a mansion stood quietly between an antique shop and an art gallery. A man had made his home there, rich, young and virile.
He had slowly made a fortune trafficking boys and girls to Cillia, supplying their slave trade with a great rarity. People of Calvino, powerless, ready to be abused and punished for the indignities their people were supposed to have committed a hundred years ago.
He had never taken anyone who would be missed, and never so many that it would raise eyebrows. Lucille wasn’t even sure if anyone had noticed, besides herself, of course. He had never been worth bothering with. Then he had been inducted into the royal knights. They had proven to be a group of turncoats and if she was being honest, she felt just a little bit vindictive.
The chaos Cillia had thrown the city into would provide an excellent cover.
Letting herself in was child’s play. She sniffed the air and located him talking to some other people on the ground floor. Judging by the faint smell of sweat and dried cum, his bedroom was on the second floor. She melded with the shadows behind his bed and waited, motionless, without making a sound for the next four hours.
Then, he came to bed.
She let him taste her breath first. A faint, sweet taste that whispered promises of pleasure he could not even begin to comprehend. But also of power, of a desire that would not be denied, that accepted no rejection.
Her eyes glowed an eerie orange as she watched him stiffen, a tell-tale mast rising beneath his sheets.
Next, she spoke to him. Words flowed out from her mouth and into his ear like faint smoke, sultry but terrible.
“I am owed, boy. A void yawns in me and you are blessed, for tonight I have chosen you to fill it. You will not deny me. You will fill me, give me everything you are, and we shall be as one. That is the pleasure I promise to you.”
He moaned but didn’t wake. His cock twitched already, eager to receive the pleasure she held.
Lucille smiled. She hadn’t forgotten a single thing in all these centuries.
Her black dress hit the floor. Bronze bangles were the only ornament that decorated her tall and shapely body. Her silhouette against the pale light of the night would have already made him climax, had he not been asleep. With a sigh, the velutinous brown ears on her head straightened up for the first time in years. She had almost forgotten how good it felt to be herself for a change, to remember what it meant to be one of the last living empousai.
Lucille did not waste any more time. She ripped away the sheets and the clothes he had worn to bed to see her prize.
She could smell how many virgins he had deflowered, the stink of their hymen sticking to his cock like a perfume. It would shock Lucille if even a third of the girls had given it willingly.
But in the end, that was what had led her here. He had taken against the will of others, so now it was his turn to give against his own will.
She grasped the wrinkly sack gently, feeling the heft of the two orbs within with a smile. Good, he hadn’t had time to relieve himself recently, or defile another street urchin. No doubt because of the war.
His balls hung heavily in his sack, quivering with anticipation. Lucille gifted them a chaste kiss.
His hips bucked, almost cumming from her kiss, but she had held back just enough. Fruitlessly, he thrust up into the air, trying to find some resistance that would push him over the edge.
Lucille watched him try to cum in vain for a minute before settling between his legs again.
A quick flick of her nails peeled away the scrotum, leaving his ripe gonads on display, ready to be enjoyed. He moaned in bliss.
She inhaled the scent of his raw testicles, sniffed the potential in them. Billions of unborn futures, the ideas and deeds they represented, the love they held and the despair they would plunge to. The raw potential of it all, squirming trapped inside these orbs, ready to be snuffed out to instead become a part of her.
Her split tongue wrapped around the smaller left testicle first. He gasped and moaned, and her claw shot out to pinch his penis at the base. She was just in time, preventing his orgasm and forcing his cum down and back into his balls.
She sucked the raw nut into her mouth and enjoyed feeling it on her tongue, letting it bounce up and down, pressing it against the roof of her mouth before sucking it down as deep into her throat as it would go.
But she didn’t possess the patience she once used to have. Lucille remembered nights when she would enjoy a testicle for hours, only ending it right before dawn. She had cut it very close in those days, often having to hurry back to her home with semen still staining her mouth, fleeing from the morning sun with only seconds to spare.
But those days were behind her. And tonight, after this day, she sought gratification. Her tongue swirled around the testicle and placed it between her molars.
She bit down, and bliss greater than a simple orgasm erupted in her loins. The crunch his nut made in her mouth was a symphony that rivalled the greatest composers. The taste that spilled out into her mouth was a delicacy more delightful than a feast lasting weeks. So enrapturing was her pleasure that she did not even mind him moaning loudly, thrusting his hips against her and dragging his penis across her forehead. Her fingers still held him firm and he would not spill himself before she had enjoyed his second nut.
She chewed and sucked, revelling in the feeling of her teeth crushing, grinding and cutting his gonad apart until no more was left of the fat ball. Sighing wistfully, she moved on to the right testicle.
Once she was sure he would not be cumming, she removed her fingers from his cock. The base of it was now blue and swollen.
She tickled the second ball with her tongue, teasing it. The empusa enjoyed his moans that, even asleep, grew more and more frustrated. She let the gonad dance from her tongue over her teeth, letting it scrape and catch against her canines as prelude to what awaited it. His essence of manhood flirted with its end inside her warm, wet mouth. Sometimes, she would press it against the roof of her mouth, enjoying how it squished and reinflated.
Then, it was finally time. She positioned his last testicle between her front teeth. Gently biting down, she probed the nut’s durability, pulling back before she started to damage it each time. Slowly, the bites started to wear down the shell of his nut and small tears appeared in it. She bit down, her teeth slicing into the testicle until they had cut into it halfway.
She drank him deeply. Her lips sealed around the base of his scrotum and as Lucille started sucking on the truncated ball, a nova of pleasure erupted in them both.
She moaned alongside him, her eyes closing and her lashes flickering as she sucked the insides out of his testicle. He convulsed and moaned, cum shooting out of his cock to splatter them both.
Lucille felt his nut lift to try and press out what cum it could, the motion only driving her teeth deeper into his manhood. In cumming, he sliced his own nut in two until with a little *squick* her teeth met in the middle.
She greedily swallowed one half of his testicle and then immediately continued sucking the remaining half dry.
All that was left a few minutes later was a single desiccated testicle that was even less than it should have been, a blackened raisin that looked to have been cut in half.
Lucille licked her lips and watched the last dregs of cum flow from his bruised, shrinking penis.
Maybe she should have done this sooner. It felt good to hunt for herself again and not rely on the testicles Chloe sold her.
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*[A guide to the world of Bythos!](https://imgur.com/uVKT2Kc)*
*Alright, I think that's enough setting the stage, time to go back to Jim.*
