**Prelude**
The rain lashes against Caius’s exposed face, bitterly cold. His unit had been on the hunt for weeks and the weather had been against them the whole time. Rain, sleet, and snow to wear them down, but never a break to recover. They were close though he could feel it. The tracks were fresh and the guides from the village where unusually nervous. The celts were usually made of sterner stuff. Hard to believe some wolf had been giving them so much trouble.
A fortnight prior orders came down from the centurion that action was to be taken. For the past month the legion encampments along the southern Britannia coast had been harassed constantly. Some sort of beast was attacking nearly every night. Men sent out foraging would never return, sentries would vanish from their post, or worse be found torn limb from limb come morning. As one of the most elite decani in the Britannic legionary forces Caius was tasked with finding and killing the monster. Taking his eight men he set out into the pounding rain.
As Caius’s force neared the treeline of the woods they had packing through the past three days he finally spotted the cave the guides had told them about. The lair of the wolf they had been hunting these past weeks. The leader of the celts, a stocky man with long blond hair and a bushy mustache approached him.
“As I said, this is as far as we go. Gods be with you decanus”
“Fair enough, my men and I can handle it from here. Safe travels” responds Caius.
“Alright men drop your packs and prepare your weapons. Time to slay the beast!”
Forming up into a loose V formation spears in hand the men creep towards the cave opening. As they cross the clearing to the rocky opening the wind picks up, whistling through the trees and chilling them to the bone. A few yards from the cave mouth Caius calls a halt.
*“Alright lads, get out the oil and torches. We’re going to smoke this beast out”*
Flint strikes steel as the torch is lit. The lead man tosses the oil-pot, the sound of it shattering rings out from within the cave as it releases its flammable payload. The torch follows close behind. Nothing happens at first, but before long black smoke begins to seep out of the cave mouth. The slow burning grease doing its work.
“Steady now. Keep those spears at the ready”
The freezing rain patters off the legio’s armor, dripping off their spear tips. Thoughts of home and a warmth leave their minds as they prepare to fight the wolf that has kept them in this miserable land.
A thunderous roar breaks the silence. Brilliant gold eyes flash within the smoke as a massive shape bursts from the cave. It was shaped like a wolf, but larger, nearly the size of small horse. The men were stunned never having faced such a monstrosity. The beast closes the gap in an instant, sleek black fur still smoldering from the fire. Rearing up it reveals a pair of massive hands tipped with razor sharp claws. Easily slapping the spears out of the way it rends two men in half in the blink of an eye. Another legio manages to catch the beast in the neck with his spear but is only rewarded with a quick disembowelment. Claws and teeth flash in the rain, every blow lethal.
“In Christ’s name!” Caius cries out
Charging the beast Caius knows there is no escape. This is kill or be killed. The wolf pounces on him as he runs his spear through its chest. Knocked onto his back the spear digs into the dirt beneath him. Holding the monstrosity just high enough to keep it from reaching him. The beast throws itself forward, its jaw gnashing and snarling. The spear finally rips through the back of the monster as it sinks down the shaft. It’s burning gold eyes are the last thing Caius ever sees as it brings its claws to bear.
**Chapter I**
It is the year 405, with the death of Emperor Theodosius I ten years prior the Roman empire has divided itself in two, never to be reunited. While the wealthy and fertile east flourishes, the west is in its death throes. Emperors are killed off like flies. Thrown away whenever their subordinates no longer find them valuable. While the political center is setting itself alight the borders begin to crumble. Without strong leadership Rome’s once mighty legions have grown soft and complacent, savage raiders cross over from Germania and Brittania almost at will, sacking, raping, and pillaging before legionnaires can throw them back.
On Rome’s western frontier life is less complicated, the folk are more worried about taxes and this year’s harvest than which buffoon happens to be sitting on the throne in Ravenna. Autumn is coming and nights are growing longer in the region of Pannonia. The summer’s harvest is at its end and winter’s relative safety from German raiders is near. Life is slowly winding down in preparation for the cold months ahead.
*****
Having finished the day’s chores early, Amala takes a look at the horizon and notes there are still several hours of sunlight to enjoy. Her pale hair sways in the light evening breeze as she considers what to do before retiring for the night. Having completed the hard labor of the year’s harvest already Amala’s day to day life was growing more sedate, performing minor repairs that had been put off and preparing the soil for winter made up the majority of her duties these days.
With a sigh of content Amala decides to take a walk. With the hustle and bustle of the summer she hasn’t had much time to enjoy herself as of late. The nearby woods are beautiful this time of year and it would be nice to have a few more herbs for her winter meals.
The farm is Amala’s pride and joy. Passed down to her from her father it is not enough to make her wealthy, but it is something of her own. Her father was born into a poor family in the peaceful region of Hispania. At the time of his youth Rome was quite rewarding for people willing to settle in the dangerous frontier regions, he was given a plot of land and expected to settle it. Through his time he met Amala’s mother Hulda. A fierce Germanic woman, she was tall, powerfully built, and fair of skin and hair. They loved each other deeply. The other people of the village that was built around her father’s farm certainly were not approving. The Germans are a savage people and any good Roman citizen should have a healthy distrust of them. Hulda tragically died bringing Amala into the world, her father would die when she was a young woman, slain attempting to defend the village from a German raid. Amala was left alone in the world.
Despite the loss of her father and the ostracization from the village for her German heritage. Amala did very well for herself. The powerful build she inherited from her mother allowed her to keep the property running herself without much trouble. She traded with the other villagers when needed and paid her yearly taxes to the Empire and kept to herself.
Crossing through her fields, now empty and ready for winter. She can already feel a light chill in the air as the wind whispers over the grass. As she approaches the treeline she can see the leaves are already beginning to change color, leaving brilliant streaks of red and yellow through the forest. Breathing deeply she takes in the scent of the forest.She sighs quietly saying to herself.
“Ahhh, I think i’ll head to the river today. A few river lillies would really brighten up the house. “
For most of the year the Danube river is a dangerous place to live. Serving as the border between the wild German lands and the Western Empire it is bitterly fought over as raiders cross over to take wealth and women back across into the dark German forests. As winter settles in though raids become rare and people settle down to try and survive the cold.
The fall leaves crunch under her feet as she carefully picks her way through the forest trail, it’s an unusually quiet evening no birds singing or insects chirping, just the rustle of trees in the wind. She slowly makes her way down the trail, enjoying this peaceful moment
By the time Amala begins to near the river the temperature has already began to drop. Her normally thin clothing providing little protection her skin begins to flush, her cheeks turning red, and her nipples poke through her thin blouse. The thin cloths are comfortable to work in, but wouldn’t leave much to the imagination where she not alone. Due to her regular solitude Amala doesn’t try to hide her full figure. Her round, perky breasts fill the front of her blouse, her nipples starkly contrasting in their achingly hard state, her arms and core almost ripple with muscle, hard earned from years of labor. Her pale hair normally kept up would flow past her shoulders if she let it. Muscular thighs flow into broad hips and a tight full rear that fill out any pants enticingly.
As she walks her pert nipples rub against the cloth of her shirt, she sighs
“God it’s been a while…”
Living in relative isolation and being half German has kept Amala from ever receiving much attention from the men of the village. As a youth she learned how to indulge in her passions. When she was young and less burdened with responsibilities her private dalliances with her body where frequent and energetic, she couldn’t keep her hands off herself. Now with the farm to herself there never seems to be enough hours in the day.
Approaching the river bank the she could feel the passion rising in her stomach, the constant teasing her nipples where receiving was getting to her, there was no denying how hard she was breathing for such an easy walk, or the wetness developing between her legs.
“Maybe i’ll just sit for a moment, that looks like a nice place to watch the river…”
Spotting a soft patch by the rivers edge Amala decides to to sit down and take a break. It had been a long day and it was nice to be off her feet, but against her better judgment her hands begin to stray, at first merely caressing and massaging her muscular thighs. Running her fingers up her inner thigh never quite touching what she really wants to. Her eyes half closed, her breath starts to come in short intakes as her hand works its way up her blouse. Slowly caressing her ribs and breast before she gives in and her fingers run across her nipple.
“Mmmh..”
She moans lightly as her oversensitive bud reacts to her attention. The hand left on her thigh starts to glide along her mound slowly working up in intensity, squeezing her lips together and rubbing in little circles. Her pussy is on fire and little tingles are running up her body, Her cheeks flush and not because of the cold.
Starting to buck her hips slightly into her attentive fingers she pinches her nipple more forcefully sending shocks of pleasure radiating through her.
“Oh fuck..”
As the heat builds in her core her hand starts to focus on her clit, rubbing tight hard circles through her thin trousers. Starting to pant and moan lightly as she rubs her pussy with increasing passion. Rubbing up and down her clit she knows she needs more to reach the orgasm she needs so badly. Quickly slipping her hand through her waistband running her fingers through her slick labia. She slides her fingers smoothly up and down her sensitive pussy making her shudder from pleasure. Her other hand rubbing, squeezing, and pinching even more desperately at her rosy nipple and perky breast. Placing a finger on each side of her swollen clit she rubs her fingers up and down, rubbing all along her puffy soaked labia and giving her clit the delicious pleasure she’s been yearning for. Her fingers stroke faster and faster as she gasps and moans from her own attention.
Amala’s thoughts drift as her fingers do their work, teasing her clit and occasionally slipping into her pulsing pussy or sliding across her tight booty. Delving into her own fantasies she imagines heading to the brothel in the nearby city. As much as she yearns for the touch of a man. Her lust for the curves of other women has always been a slightly guilty source of her fantasies. Pleasure build and builds in her as she imagines a pair of ladies sucking and teasing her nipples, stroking her, kissing down her body. Amalas hips buck into her fingers as she slides a few inside herself, her palm rubbing her clit hard. The women in her thoughts kissing all over her thighs running their tongues across her soaking pussy.
Snap!
A sharp crack pulls her from her fantasy. Quickly pulling her shirt down and jumping to her feet her hand reaches for the knife she keeps at her side. Mostly for yard work its size makes it a tool for safety as well. The warm leather of the handle pressed against her palm calms her as her eyes dart about in the twilight.
Quickly spotting a shadowy movement a short distance away she barks out.
“Show yourself pervert!”
A man comes out from behind a tree, tall and dark of hair. Amala still burning with need struggles to push the thoughts from her mind, how she’s never lain with a man, and how dearly she yearns to. His strangely accented voice rings across the riverside.
“Hail lass. My name is Merik not pervert. I apologize I didn’t mean to disturb you. My camp is across the way and I thought I heard someone in distress. It’s not safe to be out and about this late.”
Amala can’t help but notice how his eyes roam over her body now that he is closer, and can’t help liking it. His piercing gaze holds her there for a moment, his strange golden eyes seem to see right through her. Amala responds sharply.
“Well no one is in distress so why don’t you head back to camp?”
Freeing her blade from its sheath enough for the stranger to notice.
‘“Alright lass, no need for hostilities now. How about we both head home and avoid any night time dangers. It’s near dark.”
Seeing him back down Amala turns to leave, keeping an eye on the man and a hand on her knife as she heads back to the trail. Feeling a little startled and still burning with lust she makes her way quietly through the wood to her farm.
As Amala approaches the treeline though something is wrong. There is a strange glow coming from the village, as she creeps closer to her field she hears it. Screams, shrieks of the dying. Panic strikes her like a hammer.
Raiders!
The memory of the raid years ago flashes before her eyes, the German troops hacking her father and his men to pieces as she looked on from the woods. For all her strength the vision crumples her resolve. She freezes. Torn between grief, fear, and rage It’s not until she hears the clatter of armored boots approaching that she regains her focus. She sees several individuals, tall and clad in mail and leather armor backlit by the burning village. The screams have stopped, all she hears is the crackle of the distant flames as they immolate the village buildings and begin to creep across the fields toward her farm. The armored men chatter a little amongst themselves, Amala immediately recognizes it as German. Rage fills her, replacing the horror and sadness, a red haze fills her vision as a berserk fury overcomes her at the sight of the destroyers.
Creeping as close as possible she throws a rock at the nearest one, smashing him directly in the helmet and with a yelp he crumples to the ground. The other two are stunned and before they gather their wits about them she has closed the distance, knife in hand.
“Raaahh!”
Her first stab misses the mark and is deflected by the man’s armor. She follows through with a vicious punch to his face shattering his nose and driving him to his knees. Amala starts to scream a guttural cry at the top of her lungs. Throwing all of her hate at the savages. Her second pass with the knife is more successful catching the stunned warrior in the throat. He falls clutching at his wound, gurgling as his life slips away. By now the final warrior has freed his axe from his side and takes a swing at Amala. Her hand darts out catching him by the elbow, it crunches horribly as the heavy axe swing carries his arm farther than the join wants to bend. The man screams and Amala throws him to the ground falling on him with her knife in hand stabbing and slashing as her fury and bloodlust run rampant.
Her mind begins to clear and she looks about at what she had done. Blood coats her arms and her thin clothes are tattered from the struggle. She is conflicted, she should feel sickened by her actions, but is exhilarated. As she examines her surroundings she notices movement coming from the village. More Germans moving in a mass as they leave the burning village behind. With her mind clear Amala knows their numbers are too great. Quickly finishing off the man she took out with the rock she turns and flees back into the woods. The Germans will surely be after her once they find their fallen comrades.
Night had truly fallen as Amala tore into the woods at a dead sprint. She knew these lands well, but all the same in the deep black of the night the woods tore at her, delivering cuts and scrapes, tearing at her already tattered clothing. She could already hear the stomping, clanking, and snapping of twigs indicating the pursuing raiders were on their way.
Bursting through into the clearing around the river she stops to take stock of the situation. Her clothing was shredded from the combat and flight through the woods. Her shirt was barely holding together almost completely exposing her full breasts. Her rosy nipples jutted out, achingly hard from the cold, and perhaps some level of excitement. Her light trousers had not fared much better, large tears in the fabric exposed much of her thighs. It’s then she noticed her knife was missing, the sheath and belt ripped off in the struggle with the Germans or in the woods.
“Fuck, trapped by the river.”
This time of year the Danube flows swiftly and is bitterly cold, an attempt to cross would be certain death and Amala knew it. In the distance she could see the torches of the German forces closing in, they had formed a crescent as they moved through the woods, cutting off any escape.
Trapped between certain death in the river or death at the hands of the savages, Amala was directionless. Ready to test her fate with the dark waters of the Danube she heard it. A thunderous roar followed by screams as something massive rushed into the woods, faster than her eyes could follow and attacked the on rushing German forces. The sounds of battle where all around. Before long she saw the torches of the raiding force begin to withdraw, chased by the monstrosity that had attacked them. As Amala huddled by the riverside, half naked, she was torn with exultation for the death of the barbarians and fear of what had killed them. It’s then she spotted something in the woods, a pair of golden eyes peering out from the woods. They looked strangely familiar. She calls out quietly.
“M.. Merik?
A deep guttural growl silences her. As a hulking mass appears behind the brilliant golden eyes, Amala knows there is no escape. After seeing and hearing this monstrosity deal with the Germans she knows she is powerless to stop it. As the beast stalks closer she begins to see more detail through the gloom of the autumn dusk. Hunched over on all fours it slowly circles her sniffing at the air. Covered in smooth dark fur, it is easily half again as tall as most men if it reared up and ripples with muscle. A beastial muzzle protruded from its face, large fangs visible as it took in her scent. On its head where a pair of large pointed ears constantly swiveling about, listening for anything else approaching. A wolven tail trails behinds it.
Apparently done just smelling her, the beast begins to approach. Lifting itself up onto its hind legs, powerful strides bring it closer to Amala. As it draws nearer she makes out something large twitch between the beast’s legs, her eyes go wide as she realizes the implication. A massive wolf cock begins to grow from its sheath between his legs. Pulsing and twitching as it grows fully erect. Its pointed tip already leaking onto the foliage, his massive cock starts to jerkily rise to attention. Pointing directly at Amala. She has seen animals mate before and the intention is not lost on her. Its massive girth dwarfs any pleasure toys she had constructed over the years. A light growl from his chest warns his new mate not to resist. Amala sees her choices now, fight and die to this monster, or let it breed her as it intends and take her virginity.
Nearly close enough to touch her she catches its scent, earthy and masculine. The beast’s pheromone rich scent begins to affect her. Built to bring it’s own powerful kind around to mating. The pheromones are overwhelming for Amala. Her barely concealed lust from earlier in the evening to masturbate and later, secretly even to herself her need for Merik, comes rushing back. Her breath comes in short gasps and her pussy burns with need. Standing right before her, thick cock less than a foot from her trembling body. The wolf growls again grabbing her and throwing her to the ground, It can smell its bitch is nearly ready.
“No!”
Amala gasps, already unconsciously raising her hips to present herself. I just need to make it out of this she thinks to herself, trying to rationalize her burning need into something less shameful.
A massive powerful hand grabs her by the shoulders pushing her head and chest into the soft ground as the wolf brings its muzzle between her legs. She feels its hot breath where no one else has been as it breathes her in. Another clawed hand reaches into her waistband grabbing the fabric and ripping away the remains of her tattered pants leaving her exposed the the monsters attention. Shame flushes her cheeks as her spread legs expose everything to the beast’s gaze. Her soaking wet lips spread just a little showing off the puffy pink of her pussy, her clit already poking out from its hood begging for attention, her little asshole slick from her excitement now running down her thighs. Suddenly hot wet pleasure is running over her exposed lips. Moaning loudly her hands dig into the ground.
Getting its mate ready to breed the wolf runs it powerful tongue across her pussy. Crushing her sensitive labia and clit under its hot flesh, driving her deeper into a fog of lust. Unaccustomed to feeling another’s touch on her delicate pussy, she is quickly approaching the orgasm she has wanted all day. The pheromone musk and the rough powerful tongue lavishing her sensitive clit is quickly overwhelming her. Bringing her hands to her heaving chest she pinches her nipples, moaning wantonly. The beast feeling his mate start to buck against him delves in with even greater passion. Amala cries out as the beast’s thick tongue forced its way into her virgin pussy. Spreading her pulsing walls wide.
“Oh god! Yes, I’m cumming!”
Her slick walls clamp down on the wolf’s tongue as it squirms around inside her spasming pussy.
Sensing its mate is ready the beast rises up behind her, bringing its stiff cock to her entrance. Senseless with lust, she can think of nothing but receiving the monsters hot seed, having it mate her. Breathily she begs for it to take her pushing her hips back.
“Please.. Take me, breed me!”
Pushing forward its tapered wolf cock spreads her slick labia, powering directly into her waiting pussy. She moans loudly. It’s so hot and thick inside of her, and it’s forcing her open with so much force it nearly knocks the wind out of her. Hammering into her slick hole the beast forces its cock deeper and deeper into Amala, its tapered dick stretching her tight holer wider as it goes. Her tight pussy makes it slow going, but there is so much power behind the thrust that nothing is stopping the monster from taking every inch of her virginity. As another inch sinks into her soaked pussy, stretching her wider than anything she has ever felt. She gasps out
“Fuck it’s so thick! You’re going to rip me apart!”
With a final push its cock smashes into the back of her pussy. She can feel the warms of the beast fur pressing against her ass as it fills her completely. Stretching every inch of her pussy to suit its cock. The beast growls licking her neck, making her his own. Giving her only a moment to adjust to the massive member spreading her tight pussy. The wolf starts to pull out, rubbing its strangely shaped member across her swollen g-spot on the way out leaving Amala breathless and quivering. Leaving only the tip barely in her the beast shoots forward pounding into her savagely. One massive hand pinning her to the ground, the other firmly holding her hips in place as he utterly rails her tight hole. His only focus is filling her with his seed. Amala overwhelmed by the assault as the wolf fucks her hard and fast moans loudly every time he hammers into the back of her pussy.
“Oh, Oh, Oh, MMMhh!”
Ravaging her little hole with its monstrous cock the wolf fucks her relentlessly. Her eyes lose focus as the pleasure overwhelms her, squeezing her breasts, pinching her nipples, her toes curl. All she can do is take it as the beast uses her as his mate. As his thrusting starts to grow more desperate and the wolf’s cock grows even harder she feels something hard pressing against her pussy every time the beast pushes his cock into her. Its thicker than even the massive cock already stretching her wide. Shame mixes with lust as she realizes the monster is about to knot her and fill her fertile womb with its monstrous cum. She hates how badly she wants the beast to use her. This is wrong, but she needs it. Pushing back against it, forcing her pussy to stretch over the massive bulge, she moans.
“Yes! Give me your seed, make me your bitch”
With a final push she throws herself back as the beast lunges forwards. The massive knot pops into her clenching pussy. As it pops through he feels her clench down as her whole body tightens up. Pleasure explodes through Amala’s body as she cums all over the wolf’s massive cock. Hot juices splash against the ground as Amala squirts around the thick knot crushing her g-spot and removing any thought from her mind. At the same time she can feel the thick member twitch inside of her as his massive load explodes into her waiting womb. Filling it with his seed, Amala moans and moans as she spasms around his pulsing cock as it overfills her pussy with his cum. She finally blacks out when the beast pulls out of her clenching hole, cum pressurised between its massive knot and her full pussy squirting out mixing with Amala’s excitement.
Amala smiles as the sun warms her face. Her eyes flutter as she slowly wakes up. Groggy and strangely sore she starts to fall back asleep before the memory of last night come rushing back. Jerking up she looks about. Naked in a strange bed she can still feel the leftovers from last night’s passions inside of her. Dried cum coats her ass and thighs. Throwing the blanket off of her she notices a man sleeping on the floor next to her. Tall and extremely muscular, messy long black hair tussled about his head.
Merik..
Buck naked, scars covering most of his body. Cuts and stabs from countless battles. The village destroyed and her farm burnt. Amala’s thoughts wander
“What now Amala?.. Normal life was just burnt to the ground and this.. Man? No definitely not just a man. Well he saved me, and I guess i’m probably a mother now, unless he’s sterile. He’s certainly not bad to look at…
Meriks eyes open, brilliant gold.He speaks in his strangely accented voice, clear but powerful.
“You’ve been staring at me a while lass, decide to kill me or not yet?”
Amala chuckles. Crawling over and straddling Merik’s waist, she whispers as she brings her lips to his.
**“I think I know what I want”**
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My first piece of writing outside of essays. It was actually pretty fun to write. Would love to hear what you think.
The formatting hasn’t translated well to reddit so I’ll need to clean it up a little when I have time.
Hope you enjoyed it!
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/5rrhex/trials_in_pannonia_amalas_tale_mf_fantasy