πŸ“š exile amongst beasts Part 5 of 5
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NON HUMAN STORIES

Exile Amongst Beasts Ch 05

Exile Amongst Beasts Ch 05

by zephyr_the_rogue
19 min read
4.77 (6600 views)
adultfiction

Author's Note: Though six months late, I finally finished the final chapter in this series! Thank you for all those that followed the series, it has been a journey. Thank you Neuroparenthetical for editing my story and making it ten times better. As always, I would love to hear what you think in the comments!

Disclaimer: Rape and non consent/reluctance sex are one of the themes in this series. It is also exclusively either anthro or feral furry male on a humanoid female protagonist. That said, everything written is strictly fantasy and I do not condone any sexual violence.

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It had taken several days before I was able to stop waddling and start walking properly. Surviving the Yuan-ti had only strengthened my resolve to leave the island. While I had rested and recovered, Dusk had found a middleman who knew where we could get what we needed -- two sets of soldiers' armours -- who'd arranged a trade with its owner. With those, we would infiltrate the ranks of our captors and make our escape.

"The brothers we are trading with are not to be taken lightly," Dusk warned. "They are Hog Folk, a race of pig people. More specifically, they're Boar Hog Folks, which are the largest amongst their kind. These two are known to be unpredictable and greedy, so in case they don't want to honour the deal despite the middleman's presence, I need you to stay hidden and intervene if things go sideways."

"If they are as dangerous as you said," I asked, "why even take the risk?"

"It's better than attempting to steal two sets of heavy, clinking armour from them," he answered. "Besides, middlemen are under the protection of gangs, which usually guarantees that trade goes smoothly. "

After we made all the preparations, we headed to where the trade would take place: a meadow far from prying eyes. Having arrived well before the meeting time, I surveyed our surroundings. Without too many options, I climbed onto a tree that was just close enough to give Dusk a hand if need be.

When the sun was high in the sky, a human arrived: the middleman named Byron. Shortly after that, the Boar brothers appeared with a heavy sack. They were almost seven feet tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular, wearing pieces of what must have been soldier's armours that looked too small on them. Tusks jutted out from their hairy faces, and both were covered in scars that made them look even more intimidating.

Dusk was not phased, however. He walked up to Byron and handed him a pouch of gold. The brothers did the same with their sack.

Just as Byron was about to motion for the exchange, however, the Boar with dark brown fur spoke. "Hold on." He looked at Dusk. "We changed our mind. We want that elf you were seen with as well."

Byron furrowed his brows. "The deal was already agreed upon."

The brown Boar smirked. "It was, but we changed our mind. Remember the money you owe the Marauders, Byron? We can triple your cut if you just keep your mouth shut for this deal."

"Think carefully, Byron," Dusk snarled. "Your reputation as a middleman will cease to exist, along with your gang's."

"I..." Byron stammered, then almost jumped when the other Boar -- the one with black fur -- did a flourish with his battleaxe.

"I imagine you don't want to lose a hand for your debt, do you?" the brown one asked.

Byron opened his mouth a few times, his fist closing hard on Dusk's pouch of gold. Finally, he hung his head and avoided the jaguar's fiery gaze."I'm sorry, Dusk. I'm in a lot of debt."

The dark brown Boar turned to Dusk with a triumphant smile. "So what say you, jaguar? Give us the elf and you'll have what you came for."

A breath was caught in my throat. For a moment, I wondered just how far Dusk was willing to go to escape, and how much our alliance meant to him.

"No," Dusk said, settling my nerves. "She's not up for trade."

"Then I'm afraid the trade is off," the brown one said. "And to make up for the time we wasted, we'll be taking your gold, too." He motioned for Byron to hand him the pouch and sack.

In the blink of an eye, Dusk evaporated, and my eyes only caught up when Byron yelped and stumbled back, his hands empty. Just as quickly, the brothers moved, charging towards the jaguar with their weapons raised.

Nearly falling out of the tree, I quickly notched an arrow on Dusk's bow and fired, but, novice that I was, I only grazed the brown Boar's unprotected shin. I'd been aiming for his neck. It nevertheless caught their attention, and the brothers slowed to search for the hidden attacker.

I just need to help Dusk get to the trees, I thought as I fired a few more arrows, all of which either missed or were blocked by the shield in the black Boar's hand. With the sack slung over his shoulder, Dusk was getting closer, but the weight of the armour was slowing him down significantly.

The Boars quickly determined that I was no big threat and continued to pursue Dusk. They were faster than one would assume, and as my accomplice got closer, I heard the clanking of metal.

There's no way we can get away with that. It's too loud and they're too fast. Swallowing, an idea formed. Dusk had to get away or the plan would fall apart. Fear gripped my heart at the thought of deliberately jumping into danger, but I could not think of anything better.

Shouting, I jumped off the tree. "Hey! Dimwits! You wanted me? Come and get me!"

All three running figures halted to look, and I saw the jaguar's eyes widen in surprise. In a heartbeat, he understood, and tossed the pouch of gold far to his left. Our eyes met, and he nodded, before disappearing into the dense forest. A part of me was relieved, for I saw a promise in his eyes.

The brothers shared a look and decided chasing the jaguar wasn't worth it. The brown one turned to get the pouch of gold, and the black one charged towards me.

I turned and bolted towards the trees as well. Wind tossed my short raven hair, and I urged my legs to move ever faster. So close was the shadowy forest, and yet when I was almost there, something slammed into my back and sent me flying forward.

Whatever it was knocked the wind out of me, and I struggled to get back up, but pain lanced through my spine. The heavy footsteps were getting ever closer, so I just collapsed, only half acting, and pulled out my daggers.

"Sacrificing yourself for that cat? How noble." The gruff voice was close. He picked up what he'd thrown at me and walked closer.

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Clenching my jaw, I waited till a hand flipped me over, then lashed out with my daggers. Anticipating a block, I aimed low. One of the daggers hit a crude shield, which was what had hit me, but the other found the Boar's fleshy thigh.

"Bitch!" he grunted but did not reel away as I had hoped. Instead, he took a step forward, and smashed the hilt of his sword into my temple. My neck snapped, and I fell back onto the ground, black dots appearing in my vision. "You'll pay for that, wench." As the world faded, the Boar's sinister voice quickly became distant.

I was awoken by the feeling of something cold being pressed on my throbbing head. Opening my heavy eyelids, I was greeted by a wide chest in a stained tunic, and a musky scent of fur and mud -- way less pleasant than the minotaur's. Looking up, I realized it was the brown Boar, who was applying some kind of salve onto my bruised temple. The soreness on my back was already dulled.

"Good, you're awake," the brown Boar said. "Now the fun can begin."

"Wait, where am I? What are you doing?" I wanted to pull away from the questionable dark salve, but found myself retrained. Looking around, my blood turned cold. I was in a small wooden cabin; it was without windows and entirely lit by a few lanterns. The walls, as well as a table in the corner, were lined with tools that were probably used for torture. Worse yet, I was naked, sitting on a platform, and tied. My belongings laid in a pile in the corner. The restraints weren't of any standard arrangement, either. The ropes that so tightly pressed into my flesh deliberately circled my breasts, went between my legs, secured my tail up to my back, and forced my legs open by going under my knees and connecting to my arms, which were above my head.

"I'm giving you some herb salve that'll help with the pain and swelling," the brown Boar answered. "We want you to last as long as possible, of course."

"What do you want from me?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady despite my undignified state and crippling fear.

"Where your little boyfriend or his hideout is."

"Not a chance," I replied without hesitation. Dusk had saved my life, and he had been nothing but a trustworthy and capable ally since our initial kerfuffle.

"But he abandoned you -- ran away with our armour like a coward."

"He'll be back for me." Though my heart was pounding furiously, I believed it.

"Then I guess we'll just have to persuade you to be a bit more forthcoming." The brown Boar looked behind me. "What do you say, brother? Shall we start with some flogging?" The rope that bound me jerked upwards, pulling me into the air.

"Ah!" All my weight was suddenly distributed to where the ropes held my body, including the one between my legs. It bit into my delicate folds, especially my sensitive clit. The sharp pain was like lightning, but it was followed by an undeniable spark of pleasure.

The black Boar-- whom I had named Tusk, for his one broken tusk--appeared from behind and grabbed something from the wall. It was a flogger, its many tails made with leather. I'd seen monks using it on themselves as punishment for their sins. Wearing no shirt, and with the wound on his thigh covered by bloody bandages, Tusk limped back to me, raised his arm, and swung.

I could not stop the shriek from escaping my lips when I felt it land on my protruding breasts. Red lines immediately appeared, followed by searing pain. Tusk's ugly snout twisted into what looked like a smile. He delivered another swing, then another.

"That's what you get for stabbing me, wench."

Although my breasts were soon covered in web-like marks -- and although my nipples had perked up angrily -- I managed to remain silent. However, I let out a surprised whimper when I felt calloused hands on my back. They caressed it gently and slowly. Then those touches moved to the front, and I looked down to find a brown hand on my exposed mound.

"Feel free to scream, only we can hear you." The brown Boar--whom I named Scar, for a big scar that ran across his face--laughed in my ear, his breath stinking of booze.

"And give you the satisfaction?" I gritted my teeth. "No way."

"You will eventually," he said confidently. "Brother, I think our brave little captive isn't convinced. How about that nice ass this time?"

Licking his long snout, Tusk's beady eyes were wide with excitement. He spun me around and locked the swivel--which I hung on--in place. Facing Scar, my heart quickened again. Not being able to see my torturer only made the situation more terrifying.

Whoosh. Immediately, my backside burned, but while I anticipated the next swing, Scar came closer and pressed a thumb on my folds. He slid up and down, then stopped on my clit. He shifted the rope aside, and started massaging my sensitive bud, sending small shockwaves up my spine. To make matters worse, he pressed his snout onto my breast and took a swollen nipple into his mouth. My bruised skin stung in the warmth, and I shuddered.

Whoosh. I grunted at the sudden combined sensations: rough and gentle, pain and pleasure. Sucking and nipping, Scar put his other hand to use. With a thick, cloven finger, found my entrance, and forced his way in. My dry walls protested, but he just stayed there till eventually my body accepted the intrusion and produced some wetness. Then he began to explore.

"Ah, so tight." I thought I saw a wicked smile, though it was hard to tell on his disfigured face. "What kind of lover is that jaguar? Your cunt feels like a virgin's. You must be depraved."

I wanted to defend Dusk, for my ears still burned when I thought about how primal and utterly erotic our first meeting was, but I knew it wouldn't do me any good. "He's not my lover."

"Is that right? Your blushing suggests otherwise."

Whoosh. That time, I consciously felt my walls clenched down on the wriggling finger, and a fresh wave of wetness followed.

"Can you believe it, brother?" Scar asked. "She's already enjoying this! Have we gotten ourselves a harlot? I think we should try harder. This is torture, after all."

Tusk grunted in agreement. While my face burned with shame, he turned me around again. Wasting no time, he brought down the next swing on my exposed slit. That time, I cried out. Never had I felt so much pain; tears welled in my eyes instinctively. The delicate flesh was not made for that kind of abuse. Still, I didn't say a word.

Dissatisfied with my reaction, Scar swung a few more times, and amidst the overwhelming, searing pain, I faintly felt something pressing on my ass. Looking down, I saw an oval shaped, wooden thing with a pointed end, glinting with some kind of lubricant, being forced into the tight hole.

"What--what are you doing?" I asked weakly. "It's not going to fit!"

"It will," Scar said behind me. "Your holes are too tight; I'll help you loosen up a little."

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Persistent and determined, he pushed, and even Tusk stopped to admire the view. Tearing pain shot up as the dark wood slowly went in--its body wider and wider towards the middle--stretching my ass taut. It felt like I would split open any second.

"No!" I cried. "It won't fit! I'll--" Before I could finish, the widest part disappeared into me, and the rest went in smoothly, leaving only its flat base outside. My whole abdomen felt stuffed, and I gasped for breath.

I guess I must thank Aztyan for abusing my ass last time, or else I would surely have bled. I thought amidst the overwhelming sensations.

Scar laughed. "There, not so hard, was it?"

My heart stopped when I saw Tusk raising the flogger again, but fortunately Scar stopped him. "I think that's enough for now. We don't want her to be a bloody mess. I think her cunt needs some stretching as well, don't you? I'll let you do the honours, brother."

Tusk's lips curled into a similar cruel smile as his brother's, and he nodded. He turned to a panel on the wall, where rods of different shapes and sizes hung. He chose a rather large one, and when he came into the light again, I swallowed.

It was made of dark wood, only slightly thinner than my forearm, and crudely carved to be covered by uneven lumps and ridges. It resembled a phallus.

"Excellent choice, brother!" Scar said enthusiastically. Then he directed his attention towards me. "I heard cats have barbed cocks, so this should be a breeze for you."

It might have felt impossible before, but after Aztyan, I was sure I could take it -- though not easily. Scar must have noticed my lack of fear, because he scoffed and smacked my bruised ass, making me whimper.

"I think she isn't impressed, brother. Fine, let's take it up a notch." Scar came in front with two small clamps, each attached to a small rock. To my horror, he clamped them onto my swollen nipples. I cried out at the sudden sharp pain of my already stinging flesh being pinched and pulled down.

"Better," Scar said, satisfied, then took a step back.

Feeling pain everywhere and bounded completely, I helplessly watched as Tusk coated the rod with the same lubricant as before. While Scar forced my lips open from behind, his brother pushed it into my swollen cunt. He was far from gentle. I groaned when my red entrance reluctantly gave away, and I felt the coarse surface raking my dry insides, my walls stretching to encompass its girth. It created a bulge on my stomach. With the big, oval-shaped plug in my ass, it made me feel even fuller than when Aztyan's two cocks had claimed me.

When it reached the end of my passage, I let out a long, shaking breath, but the ordeal was far from over. Tusk pulled the rod out quickly, then pushed it in again, that time quicker. I had to grit my teeth, but he was determined to make me scream. He quickened his pace even more while using his other hand to rub my clit. Scar started to caress me again, skillfully teasing and rubbing all my sensitive spots.

In, out, in, out... the dark wooden rod sunk into my inflamed flesh at a brutal pace. Lifeless and hard, it was entirely different from a cock, and its user was driven by the sole purpose of making me suffer. Its ridges raked on my fragile walls, and its round head repeatedly slammed into my cervix, making me sore and full. Despite my skin and my insides both being on fire, my dragon was aroused. My whimper grew louder, and a wetness soon coated the intrusion.

Scar laughed. "I think the harlot loves it, brother!"

"No! I don't!" My shaking voice was not very convincing.

"I think she's going to come just from being fucked by a fake phallus," Scar continued.

"Stop, please!" I knew he was right, and I knew if I let the heat overcome me, all the dignity I had been so carefully trying to maintain would be lost.

As if my pleading excited them, Tusk began to twist the rod as he pushed it, and Scar suddenly pulled down the rocks connected to my nipples. "Scream for us, harlot," the black-furred brother demanded.

And scream I did when my eyes rolled back in ecstasy. So much pain! So much pleasure! Aztyan, and perhaps the werewolves, had kept their promise and made sure that I was forever ruined. No longer would normal sex be enough for me, now that my body had gotten a taste of true euphoria. My dragon yearned to be used like nothing but a toy for some men's insatiable hunger, and pain had become just another kind of stimulation that thrilled her.

As the climax faded away, a wave of self-pity and self-loathing followed. Before I could indulge in it, however, Tusk slammed the rod into me and held it in--its tip pressed hard onto my cervix--bringing me yet another wave of overwhelming sensations.

"Good job, brother," I heard Scar say in the distance. A slap on my ass pulled me back to reality. "Say, judging by her behavior, I bet she has bedded many men. I think she needs some thorough cleaning."

Tusk nodded. "Aye, she certainly acts like a filthy, lustful wench."

My cheeks burned. "That's not true!"

They ignored me. Without warning, Tusk pulled out the now wet phallus, leaving my abused cunt quivering and gaping. When Scar came around, he had a bottle. With two fingers spreading my puffy lips, he aimed the mouth of the bottle at my entrance, then pushed.

"What is this?" I demanded anxiously.

"Some alcohol to cleanse your filthy cunt," Tusk answered while occupying himself with kneading my breasts.

Indeed, when the cold bottleneck slid into me without difficulty, Scar tilted the bottle, and liquid rushed into me. It was cold at first, but then my delicate walls began to burn.

"Stop!" I cried. "Take it out! It burns!"

Scar didn't stop until I felt the flaming liquid all the way up in my cervix. I whimpered, but Scar held the bottle in until the fire had died down. He knelt down to catch the mixed liquid with his mouth, sucked and drank until every last drop was gone, and I moaned quietly when a fresh wave of heat emerged. Maybe it was just in my head, but I felt woozy, like I had drunk some of the liquor as well.

Scar smacked his lips. "Delicious. Now the main course."

"Finally!" Tusk's impatient voice came from behind. The brothers worked together and adjusted my ropes so that I was hanging horizontally, facing the ground. My legs were still wide open, my calves bent back against my thighs.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, my words a bit slurred. "Why do you still want Dusk when you've got everything you wanted?"

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