The cool night air pricked Ciri’s skin. She shuddered underneath her excessive and restrictive dress. Truthfully, she hated the formality of the court and found the ‘elegant’ clothing to be quite the opposite. She understood why Geralt hated wearing stuff like this. Ciri longed for her younger years, with her simple pants and white tunic. Those were easier times. She missed the weight of a sword on her back, how it felt to swing a blade.
“Stay here.” She ordered her entourage. The Nilfgaardian soldiers shared a glance. She could barely make out the white of their eyes through their black helmets.
“As the Empress wishes.” One of them grunted. She strolled on toward the stables, leaving them to guard the gate. It took a while for the Black Ones to stop shadowing her when she first took charge. It was their duty to protect their Empress, after all. Only after many training days of knocking them down did they finally relent. She was worth a dozen of them herself.
Their forms melted into the darkness of the evening as she approached the stables. Inside she heard the stallions whinnying and stomping about. Today had been a riding day, practice to keep the war horses ready if any of the Empire’s ambitious neighbors decided to start testing the ever-flexible borders. Ciri often tired of the politics. She needed to relax.
The stench of hay and horse shit greeted her like an old friend, and as she closed the stable door behind her, she finally relaxed. Her shoulders dropped, the dull throb of pain in her back fading as she abandoned her posture.
“Fucking finally.” She mumbled to herself. Swearing, that was something she didn’t get to do often either. How unseemly it would be, for the Empress of Nilfgaard to go around cursing like some common tavern whore. Ciri tugged at the black and gold dress she was crammed inside, popping the strings of her blouse and taking a much-needed breath of air.
She strolled past rows of stables, looking at the dozens of names stamped onto the doors. A few stallions poked their heads out, interested in who was here this late. She giggled as one reached out to try and nibble on a golden shoulder pad.
“It’s not candy, stop it.” And she lightly swatted its nose. The horse snorted and started to jerk its head up and down, irritated that it was denied its apparent snack. Ciri found that horses were some of the few honest animals in the world. Them and cats. She was Empress of the most powerful Empire in the world. Her word was law. At a snap of a finger, orders were given, men executed, trade routes paved, the sails of industry unfurled. No one pouted about her decisions – at least, not to her face.
Horses did. Horses and cats, always eager to show their distaste. You could rule the world, and they wouldn’t give a damn.
Ciri stopped at the last stall and ran her fingers over the carved name plate. ROACH*.* He was her personal mount. Roach wasn’t a warhorse, mostly just a prize stallion meant to make her look pretty in parades. Her advisors used to insist that she be carried on a platform in a bed of pillow, but that thought made her sick. If anything, riding a horse reminded her of an easier life.
So did Roach’s name. It was the closest she’d been to Geralt in years. He was off taking the occasional Witcher job, and she was Empress of Nilfgaard. Their paths diverged, and for all the power Ciri had, all the roads that opened with the Elder Blood, she couldn’t see if they would merge again. All her horses were named Roach, just like Geralt’s. Ciri pulled at her dress some more and let it fall down around her, leaving her in plain white undergarments. She stepped into the stall.
Roach nuzzled her hand when she stepped in. He was a brutish stallion, tar black with a diamond spot on his head. The fur around his hooves was white as well. When she reached out and touched his shoulders, his skin twitched and quivered. Roach blew a bit of hot air out his nose and watched her with bright brown eyes.
His cock was already out, half erect and growing.
“You’re such a good boy,” breathed Ciri. She kissed his nose before crunching through the hay toward his dick. Roach didn’t need to be coaxed anymore. Whenever Ciri came out at this hour, he knew what that meant.
She crouched down and grabbed ahold of him. His dick was so large she couldn’t even wrap her hand around it. She slowly tugged on him and felt him get bigger and bigger. Precum dripped from his flared head, and with her other hand she massaged his urethra, getting pre on her fingers. Like a babe, she sucked it off and tasted his saltiness.
Ciri didn’t know why she wanted to fuck Roach. The thought just came to her one day, and she decided as Empress she wanted to be railed by her mount. Maybe it was a deep-rooted fantasy. She’d be lying to herself if she said she’d never masturbated at the thought of a monster taking her at camp and bending her over. Now she had the opportunity. Why not capitalize on that? Why not treat herself? The royal concubines were all boring anyway.
Once Roach was hard, his equine dick stretching half his length, she waddled underneath him and started to suckle on the head of his cock. He snorted above her and dragged his hoof through the hay. That meant he was getting antsy. Not wanting to disappoint her favorite stud, she opened wide and swallowed the tip.
It took a lot of training to be able to get her mouth around his dick, and the first time she did she felt so proud. “Grkh…Hrh,” Ciri gargled, pushing forward and taking more of him in her mouth. Roach stomped a few times, moving his haunches and threatening to pull away from her. Determined, Ciri swallowed more and felt her throat stretch. She reached between her legs, slipped a few fingers into her drenched cunt as she deepthroated her horse.
Roach stepped forward suddenly and Ciri’s eyes snapped open as more cock than she expected pushed down her. She frantically tapped on his legs, but maybe Roach took that as a sign to keep going because he whinnied and stepped forward again. Ciri was dangerously close to his balls, and dangerously closer to blacking out. With her free hand, she felt the outline of his cock inside of her. She’d never swallowed him this deep, and her panties were drenched because of it.
Before he skewered her, she scrambled back. His cock slid out of her with a pop, splattering spit and horse precum on her face and tits. So much for her undergarments. Ciri got out from underneath him and tossed her underwear out of the stall. Her pussy was slick from her juices, and her nipples pointed out. She grabbed a tit and tugged him.
“Okay, boy, wanna try something?” It was a bit stupid talking to a horse. Horses were unbelievably stupid animals, and she didn’t care what anyone else said otherwise. Still, he seemed to get the gist as she moved over to the stable gate and leaned over against it.
His shadow fell over her, and his hooves clacked awkwardly on the wood as he tried to find perch. Ciri grabbed Roach’s ankles and steadied him. She spread her legs wide, knowing she’d need the extra room. His first thrust missed. His cock slid up her belly, leaving a sticky trail behind and showing her how far she’d stretch. Even after years of being doted on as an Empress, Ciri still had her hard, toned figure with her long legs and perky ass. It made her flexible, which was always good for situations like this.
“Okay, Roach, just –” She started but was cut off as the next thrust got in. Ciri grunted, digging her feet into the ground to try and not get slammed against the door. Roach snarled above her, driven now only by the animalistic need to breed. It was good she was practically dripping already.
With a buck, Roach rammed himself up to the balls and Ciri could just grunt and take it. He thrust so hard that he lifted her off the ground. She felt her stomach bulging from the intrusion, her womb already stretched and accustomed to his length from previous sessions. The first time she did something like this she blacked out only to wake up later leaking his cum.
Ciri pushed her hips back against him as much as she could, but even for someone trained as a Witcher, a horse was a horse and she found herself being lifted off the ground more often than not. She couldn’t even beg him to slow down, he wouldn’t understand. That’s how she liked it. For having so much power as she did, both politically and magically, it was liberating to just be a dumb animals cocksleeve for a while.
Roach lost his hold on the door and dropped off it, taking Ciri with him. She yelped at the sudden shift of positions and now had to stand there, legs spread, hands holding her up with her ass hiked in the air and Roach still pushing like he would die without fucking her. She tried to look up from this new angle.
She saw the thick outline of horse cock against her abs, and her tits bounced in her face. “O-oh, g-gods, fuck. Yes. Fuck me!” Ciri grunted with each womb molding thrust. She loved his. Ciri loved being a horse whore more than she would ever admit in public. Only in moments like these, being bottomed out, would she admit to herself what she really was. Just a cocksocket for animals.
She came hard, legs shaking as she did. Afraid she’d lose her balance and slide off him, she straightened herself and grabbed ahold of his front legs for balance. He put his hooves back on the door, but slipped back off. Roach awkwardly fumbled around, hooves clacking against his stall walls while he looked for something to perch on. Ciri, literally impaled on his dick, was carried around like a coin purse. Each movement sent a bolt of pleasure up her, and she looked down at her stretched cunt. Her ashen hair stuck to her forehead from the effort, and each breath came out hot.
Finally, Roach found a foothold and stepped up to it. She held on to his front legs and now was totally off the ground. Her legs shook as he started to thrust again, her tits bouncing wildly. She was drooling like a Novigrad whore and loved it.
“F-fuck, y-yes, Roach,” grunted Ciri. She was impaled on horse cock now and bouncing up and down on it. She felt the rush of heat and them her pussy clamped down on him as she came again. Ciri didn’t even bother trying to stifle her scream. No one was here anyway, and no one would be here with the Black Ones at the gate. She had Roach all to herself. “Cum in me! Cum in your horse whore!”
The first rope of cum hit her like an uppercut, and she’d been in plenty of fights to know what it felt like. It knocked the breath out of her. Ciri felt her stomach bulge as the individual strands of cum turned into a steady flow of horse nut. Her stomach bulged like she was pregnant, and the heat from his cum spread throughout her entire body. Roach’s hooves slipped off the wall and then Ciri slipped off of him, falling face first into the hay. Her ass stuck up in the air. His cum flowed out of her, smearing the hay and filling the stable with the stench of sex. The stablehands would find that tomorrow, but it’s not like they’d say anything.
Ciri lied there a while, panting like a bitch in heat while she regained her strength after the rough fucking. She had to wait for a while anyway, otherwise her guards would come to find her reeking of sex. After a moment, Ciri pushed herself up and squatted down, spreading her pussy lips to let more cum leak out.
Roach walked over and while she let her stomach deflated, she grabbed his cum covered cock and licked it clean. The taste of horse in her mouth drugged her head, and she felt dizzy at the stench rising from his nuts. Next time, she’d have to service his cock with her throat. She’d have the Black Ones bring a table with them. They’d do it. Anything for the Empress.
Once Ciri was as deflated as could be, and Roach’s cock had slipped back inside, she kissed his nose, wiggled her butt at him, and skipped out of his stall. Content with his job, Roach didn’t even bother making a fuss about her leaving. She scrambled to put her underwear on, fiddling with her dress. Tightening her corset caused more cum to leak out of her and she winced as a stream of it rolled down her thighs. Fuck it, she’d clean at the palace.
Empress Cirilla strolled toward the exit, feeling very relaxed thanks to Roach. She wondered briefly again why she was so attached to the name. Her thoughts wandered to Geralt as she made her way toward the black silhouettes of her soldiers. The cold air pricked her skin. Geralt of Rivia. A heat formed between her legs that wasn’t there before.
She shook her head clear of the thoughts. For now, Roach was perfect.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/bsljzh/as_the_empress_wishes_f_fantasy_eu_witcher_beast