Ontara in Peril Chapter 11

Ontara in Peril Chapter 11 Ontara in Peril Chapter 11

Status: In Progress

Genre: Fantasy

Details

Status: In Progress

Genre: Fantasy

Summary

The Saga Continues

Summary

The Saga Continues

Chapter1 (v.1) - Chapter 11

Author Chapter Note

The Saga Continues

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: July 02, 2018

Reads: 110

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Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: July 02, 2018

A A A

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ONTARA IN PERIL:

 

Chapter 11:

 

Because of recent events, especially the revelation of Raina’s whereabouts, the joint Llianar and Sylvan Council met at one of the sacred sites, far away from any human detection. It was decided, that in an attempt to avoid further abductions, a call would go out to all who remained in the cities throughout the Empire. Using the various forms of digital media, they instructed their people to evacuate the cities, and to resettle in villages and even tent camps situated in areas where their enemies feared to intrude. Most of these were near to the holy sanctuaries where important ceremonies and rituals were held. It was largely due to superstition that humans did not dare to encroach upon these temples and shrines.

 

Life was hard to begin with. Fortunately many of the havens were well provisioned, and thus able to share whatever fresh produce they could with the refugees, whose numbers swelled as the weeks went by. The biggest problem was the shortage of medical specialists to treat the sick. Once again the monks at the temples were able to offer some form of care, albeit primitive, using traditional treatments instead of advanced ones, but any form of serious injury or disease would mean a visit to one of the city hospitals that were, at the very least, indiscriminate when it came to their patients. Sometimes, alas, the journey proved too long, and there were a number of fatalities en route. Over time, some doctors and other medical staff were among those that sought refuge, and were able to set up practices in the villages.

 

Not all of the evacuees were sylvan or llianar. There were a number of humans who were either married to sylvan partners, or who sympathised with their plight, and were ostracised as a result. In total, over twenty thousand people sought succour in these places of safety, which soon became vibrant centres of commerce and culture rather than ramshackle old villages. It was from these that the resistance gained most of its active members, as well as support.

 

The main problem was that morale was low to begin with. Many of those who came to these villages had left everything behind, and had nothing save that which they could pack into their vehicles, knowing that there was no going back for more. If they so much as set foot anywhere near their old homes, there was a danger that they would be captured. They were forced to rebuild their lives, almost from scratch. Many of them had relatives and loved ones in other cities, and did not know whether they had been able to escape, or had fallen into enemy hands. With the lack of communication networks, to begin with, it was almost impossible to find out.

 

The decision was made, that in order to raise the people’s spirits, a special task force would set out on an important mission: To rescue Empress Raina from the laboratories where she had been held captive. Matriarch herself elected to lead the five member team, code-named Crimson. The other members were Vixen and her lover Thumper, as well as her brother Jinx and his girlfriend Banshee.

 

The facility took up an entire block, and there were only two points of entry: Through the front entrance, and a receiving area where deliveries were made. The latter was down a back alley, and it was decided that this would be the best option. Having broken the locks, the five rebels entered the storeroom and headed up the stairs. In the half-light they saw someone moving. For a moment they froze, thinking it might be one of the guards. Soon they were able to make out that it was a young woman, not sylvan but human. Her hair was dishevelled and seemed matted with blood, her lips swollen and split, and fresh blood oozed from her lower eyelid. She was crawling towards them on all fours.

 

As soon as she spotted them, she pleaded: “Help me! They’re trying to kill me! Help me please!”

Risking the entire mission, Matriarch ordered her team to head back downstairs so that one of them could take the escapee back to the vehicle that was waiting for them on the other side of the road.

 

“Tell Nitro to take this one to Saint Clara’s.” She instructed, “He can come back as soon as he’s finished.”

 

They did as she ordered, and the woman was taken to the nearest hospital. Meanwhile the team continued with the mission. In the room near where they had found the survivor, Vixen - the first person to enter - was confronted with a most terrible sight. Stretched out over a narrow table was a body, the blood still dripping from it. It was obvious that it was still relatively fresh. Electric wires stuck out from the sheet that covered the corpse, the position of which left little to the imagination as to where they ended. On a disused drip-stand hung a bag that was half empty, the catheter still attached to the victim’s lifeless arm that hung over the one side. Further investigation revealed that this was once a male, although most of his distinguishing organs had been surgically removed in a procedure that reminded some of the days when eunuch masters were still in demand.

 

As the party continued to search, they uncovered another cadaver, this time of a female victim. At least they could ascertain that by the fact that it had breasts, because once again her reproductive organs had been removed, only this time less skilfully than the first.

 

Jinx, whose father was a doctor, stated: “This looks like it was done in a hurry. Whoever conducted the surgery didn’t get everything. Look. One of the ovaries is still in-situ.”

 

They made for a small cubicle and opened the curtains. What they saw behind them made Banshee head for the nearest basin, where she was promptly sick. On the concrete floor was the remains of another victim. At first glance they thought she was female, but later they found out that she was llianar. Half of her chest and abdomen had been cut open, and all the internal organs removed. If one was to look at her face, one would have believed that she was merely asleep, but for the grimace on her mouth. It was as though she was either biting her tongue or pursing her lips to prevent herself from screaming.

 

Not long after that, however, Thumper found something that could shed more light on this horror. There was a computer terminal against the wall, and it appeared to be turned on. As the screen came to life, they could see a number of files available. The one was titled: ‘Experimental Transgender Procedure’. Thumper opened it. What followed looked like something out of a gore movie with sub-titles. It was a series of still photographs with written descriptions.

 

The first was of the lower part of either a male or a llianar. The member was erect, and had some kind of electrode sticking out of the tip. The inscription left little to the imagination. It read: ‘Subject was first treated with electrical shock until the penis became erect, and could not relax any more ...’

 

The next picture confirmed that this victim was a llianar, and probably the same as the body still lying on the floor. Again the description was self-explanatory: ‘Using various types of stimulation, the subject was made to ejaculate repeatedly until the testicles ached from the exertion. At the same time, a number of devices of torture were used ...’

 

The rest was as follows: ‘The subject was then injected with an agent that caused the testes to swell, while she still ejaculated into a glass beaker. The scrotum was then cut open, and the gonads exposed while the subject was still fully conscious. She began to babble incoherently as the technician removed one testicle. The subject was then forced to ejaculate once more while the remaining gonad was removed ...’

They were just about to go to the last frame, when the door opposite them burst open. They barely had time to dive for cover when a group of seven heavily-armed men in full body armour entered the room. The skirmish that ensued left Thumper dead, and Vixen severely injured. The soldiers would have killed them all if Matriarch did not order her team members to surrender.

 

Matriarch was identified as the team leader, and taken to a cell on her own. Her captors noticed that the lower part of her face was covered with a bandage, and immediately thought that this was to conceal her true identity. When they forced her to remove the mask, what was revealed was that she had recently undergone massive cosmetic surgery, which meant that even by exposing what was underneath, they still did not recognise her. This was despite one of her captors swearing that she looked very familiar.

 

The thugs tried in vain to interrogate her and force her to identify herself, but she refused. They threw her half naked into a room void of any furniture, and left her there for the whole night without food or even anything with which to cover herself. The following morning, having at least been given some food and clothing, they led her to a large room where she was met by Jinx. In the chamber with him were two muscular women, neither of which were wearing much more than lingerie.

 

Jinx had his hands tied behind his back, and soon Matriarch was placed in handcuffs as well. She was forced onto her knees, her cheek pushed against the cold tiled floor with the one human’s foot against her head.

 

Her comrade was also kneeling, the other human fondling with him under his combat pants. She pulled them down around his knees, and produced a syringe with a long tube instead of a needle. Taking hold of Jinx’s penis, she pushed the tube into his urethra, and emptied the contents of the syringe. Soon the organ began to swell, especially when she started to coax it with her firm hands. Once he was fully erect, the woman straddled him, pushed his cock into her, and rode up and down on it.

 

Matriarch had to watch as he cried out, his member releasing its load into her. It was then that she realised what they were trying to do. The syringe had obviously been loaded with Fenasteride, and his assailant was trying to make him cum until he had been drained of sperm. Sure enough, she carried on grinding him, and Matriarch could hear him cry out as more and more of his seed flooded into the woman’s body. Soon it was trickling down her thighs, at first as a milky white rivulet, but eventually becoming colourless, although seemingly with no loss in volume. The llianar could not bear to watch any more. She closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face.

 

When she opened them again, it appeared that Jinx had lost consciousness. His whole body went limp, but the woman would not relent. She held him up in a sort of headlock while she continued to ride his still rigid cock. Eventually she let go of him, and stood up. The sylvan was taken out of the chamber on a stretcher, and Matriarch was allowed to stand up again. She was led to another cell which at least had a bed with some linen on it. Miserably she went and lay down. She tried to sleep, having been too cold to do so the previous night, but every time she closed her eyes, she could see Jinx’s despairing face just before he passed out.

 

That afternoon, two guards came in accompanied by a woman in nurse’s uniform. She took out a syringe, and filled it with the contents of a vial. Matriarch strained her eyes to see what the small label said, and was almost certain it was ‘Valium’.

 

All the nurse said was: “Nightie night.” She stuck the needle in the llianar’s arm, and the world went black.

When she came around, she felt terribly cold. Soon she realised that she was hanging naked by her hands. She felt a dull ache, as if it was coming from the inside of her member, which she now saw was as stiff as a rod, pre-cum already oozing from its swollen tip. As her eyes regained their focus, she could see that there was someone else in the room with her.

 

She said to herself: “I can’t believe that someone is seeing me in this state!”

 

The woman in front of her stated: “If you tell me who you really are, and what you and your comrades are doing here, maybe I’ll go easy on you.”

 

The llianar tried to speak, but her words came out in a stammer: “Please - Let the others go. I’ll tell you ...” She suddenly changed her mind mid-sentence, and added defiantly: “No! You won’t win!”

 

It seemed that the strain caused her whole being to react. She felt a surge rush through her lower body. Her balls pulled up tight, and her cock began to jerk wildly. Soon a jet of sticky semen spurted out of her, hitting her torturer square in the face. Matriarch tried to laugh at the irony, but was slapped across the cheek so hard that her already painful head began to reel.

 

The woman wiped the cum off her face, and shouted through clenched teeth: “You little bitch! Pull a stunt like that again, and you will be sorry! Now are you going to talk?”

 

“Go to hell!” Came the reply.

 

“You still resist, even in your state!” She exclaimed, “Oh well. I have all day, and by the time I’m anywhere near finished, you will be begging for me to let you go.” As she spoke, her hand cupped Matriarch’s balls, and began stroking them until the llianar’s knees began to go weak. “I bet you’re so horny, you want to cum again, aren’t you?”

 

The victim felt as though she would climax again any second. Sensing this, the woman squeezed her gonads until she cried out, the urge gone. Once again she resumed her torture, Matriarch’s legs beginning to quake, and her cock twitching and jerking even more.

 

“If you give me the information I’m asking for.” The woman said, “I’ll let you cum inside my wet pussy until your balls are drained dry.”

 

Matriarch turned her head away, and forced herself to calm down.

 

“No? Well then, it’s time to take this a step further.” Her assailant continued, “Tilt your hips so that I can see your urethra clearly.”

 

When the llianar refused, she tugged on her balls until she complied. She produced a long thin rod that looked like a cross between a corkscrew and a knitting needle, and pushed it slightly into the small vestibule at the tip of her penis.

 

She warned: “Hold still. If you move, it will only hurt even more.”

 

Slowly she screwed the implement further and further down Matriarch’s urethra. Even though it was filled with lubricant, it was still agony, becoming even more so the deeper it went. Trying to alleviate the pain, she pushed her hips forward. For a short while, it worked, but only briefly. Eventually, as she was certain the point was pressing against her balls, the woman stopped.

 

 

“There.” She stated, almost satisfied with her handiwork, “Now it’s all the way in. And it will stay that way until you talk. The longer you take, the worse it will get. So - It’s up to you.”

 

“Get lost, bitch!” Was the only response.

 

“Suit yourself.” The woman replied, “Soon you will beg for mercy, and then we will talk again.”

 

And with that, she left the room. The rod seemed to have a strange effect on Matriarch. It was as though her body was trying to eject it, and the only way it could do that was to ejaculate, over and over again. Each climax was more painful than the one before, and the llianar came close to wishing she had talked ...

 

... The next thing she knew was hearing a strangely familiar voice, saying: “Matriarch. Matriarch - It’s okay. It’s over. I’m here to help you.”

 

Matriarch realised that she must have lost consciousness at some stage, and now she was lying on a bed in one of the wards. Her nether regions still hurt like crazy, but she was relieved to find out that the rod had been removed. She looked up as her vision began to clear, and saw a familiar face smiling down at her.

 

“Hunter?” She gasped incredulously.

 

“Yes ma’am.” Came the reply, “It’s me. I posed as a medical technician, replacing one of the staff members who ‘called in sick’ - actually we took her captive - and now we’re going to get you the hell out of here, before these bastards kill you. Can you stand up?”

 

“I think so.” The llianar responded, trying to lift herself off the bed. She clutched her groin as a sharp pain shot through her. Determined, she attempted to walk. Her legs were unsteady at first, and each step was agony, but she gritted her teeth and was soon walking with relative stability.

 

“Well done!” Hunter encouraged, “Now - Do you think you’re strong enough to use this?” She gave her a loaded handgun.

 

“You bet!” Matriarch said, a glimmer of light in her eyes, “And I know just where I’m going to plant the first shot!”

 

Hunter handed her something, and with a smirk on her face, Matriarch put it carefully in the pocket of her sweater.

 

As they headed out of the ward together, Hunter informed her that the surviving members of Team Crimson were okay, and had been already taken to safety. “I couldn’t move you until you came around, but at least I could take that thing out of you.” She continued, “Okay, you’re in a secure area, and there’s a security lock on the door. It has a password that only authorised personnel have access to. I will subdue the guard in the control room while you punch it in. The password for today is ‘Minion’, all lower case. Got it?”

 

“Yep.” Agreed Matriarch, “Let’s do this.”

 

Just as they entered the corridor that led from the ward where Matriarch had been taken, the pair came across one of the laboratories. Inside was a Reco-Tank that contained the body of a young wyn with a number of tubes attached to her. Matriarch made a move to remove her from the machine, but realised that it had been turned off.

Hunter caught up with her and put her hand on her arm, trying to comfort her: “I’m sorry. It was off when I arrived. She’s already dead.”

 

“Gods alive!” The llianar exclaimed, “So - When their victims are no longer of any use, they’re just disposed of like fucking trash! Someday they will pay for this!”

 

They continued toward the control room, and had not gone very far when Hunter barked: “Hit the deck!”

 

She dashed forward, both guns at the ready, as Matriarch ducked into a side passage. Just then two heavily-armed security personnel appeared. One of them was taken down even before he could open fire, while his comrade let off a random burst, hoping to hit a target in the process. The furore attracted the attention of his colleagues in the office, who came bursting out to support him. Hunter struggled to find cover, and was taking heavy fire. Matriarch appeared from her hiding place, and started shooting at the defenders.

 

“Hunter! Duck behind that refuse bin over there!” She ordered, “I’ll keep them busy!”

 

As the sylvan did as she was told, Matriarch dropped another of their attackers with a bullet in his knee. From her place of safety, Hunter resumed her attack. Soon the two of them had overpowered the guards, Hunter only having sustained a flesh-wound on her right shoulder. Although it bled quite heavily, she insisted that it was not serious.

 

When they eventually reached the control room, there was only one individual inside. He was not a member of the security team, nor was he a computer technician, but one of the scientists. Before Hunter could even try and stop her, Matriarch pounced on him, knocking him to the ground. She produced the syringe from her sweater pocket, the tell-tale long tube sticking out from the small nozzle. As he struggled, she unzipped his pants, and freed his penis from inside. He cried out in protest. Ignoring him, she shoved the tube inside of him, and emptied the contents into his body. Immediately his member hardened, and the llianar started jerking him off.

 

As she held him in a sort of choke-hold, Matriarch instructed: “Open the doors. This should keep him occupied for quite some time.”

 

Soon the man’s gism was ejecting out all over his clean white lab-coat, and onto the floor. Some of it landed on Matriarch’s face. It was not long after that when Hunter informed her that she had managed to get the doors open. The llianar released her hold on her captive, and stood up. A look of satisfaction came over her face as she watched him squirm, his cock still erupting as the drug caused his system to go into overload.

 

“He won’t be going anywhere in a hurry.” The llianar stated, “That stuff will wear off eventually, but he’s going to feel like shit when it does.”

 

At last the two of them were out of the building, and Matriarch stood, breathing in the cold night air, enjoying the fact that she was no longer a prisoner! After a while, she turned to her rescuer and put her arms around her. She buried her head in her shoulder, and sobbed: “Thank-you! How can I ever repay you?”

 

Somewhat awkwardly, Hunter hugged her back, assuring her: “There’s nothing to repay. Just doing my duty, you know.”

 

 

In the back of the old van, Matriarch was reunited with the remaining members of her team, even though one of them was lying semi-conscious on a stretcher, being attended to by none other than Mantis from team Razor. It was Banshee, and from the deep lacerations on her lower arms it was clear that she had tried to take her own life by slashing her wrists. Although she had lost a lot of blood, Mantis was certain that she would survive.

 

“Ma’am, can you keep an eye on her while I see to Hunter’s arm?” She asked, and once the leader had agreed, she turned her attention to the wound on the other llianar’s shoulder. Hunter was right - it wasn’t serious, and was easily dressed once it had been cleaned up.

 

Hunter smiled, saying: “See - Nothing but a graze.”

 

The van started up, and soon they were heading out of the city. It was a long tiring journey back to the rebel base, and all of them were exhausted when at last they pulled into the entrance to the old quarry. Those residing there must have heard that Matriarch had been rescued, because there was a loud cheer as the vehicle stopped that erupted when she finally emerged, exhausted - but happy to be free at last!

 

That night the whole camp celebrated Matriarch’s return, and for once morale was at an all time high. The persecution and abuse they all had suffered, either directly or indirectly, was forgotten if only for a moment, and life seemed good again. Elsewhere festivities were also held to honour the rescue of possibly the greatest hero since the days of Aezore. Hope seemed to be rekindled as they saw this event as a small light at the end of a very dark tunnel, and people even began talking of the possibility of victory.

 

In the meantime, as a reward for her efforts, Hunter was given a chance to go home and visit her family. She was one of the partners in a trine, a marriage of sorts that was unique to the llianari. Unlike traditional relationships in which there were two individuals, a trine - as the name applies - was made up of three people. Far from being unusual, it was considered the perfect marriage in llianar society.

 

Hunter’s two lovers lived in one of the better refugee villages called Namenkard. It was situated just north of Fort Shyrkard. She had not even told them that she was coming home, so when she arrived at the doorstep, they were totally taken by surprise. As neither of them were involved in the resistance, there was no need for them to change their names.

 

Faylyn, the youngest of the three, was the first to answer the bell when it rang. Jastra, the eldest followed close behind. The former had auburn hair that came down to her shoulders. Her senior partner had dark hair, which she wore up in a ponytail, and had horn-rimmed glasses that made her look like a teacher. Hunter was a year older than Faylyn, and three years younger than Jastra. She was also the tallest of the three.

 

The young llianar stared for a moment in disbelief, and then rushed into her lover’s arms, tears of joy running down her cheeks as she smothered Hunter with kisses. Soon all three of them were embracing, laughing and crying at the same time. They went inside the small cottage that they now called home, and Jastra began fussing around in an attempt to put some sort of meal together. Faylyn, in the meanwhile, took out a bottle of wine for them to share. Soon they were sitting in the lounge, enjoying salads, cheese and bread together.

 

Jastra asked: “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming home?”

 

To which Hunter responded: “I didn’t know until this afternoon ...” And she went on to relate to them the whole story of Matriarch’s rescue. She ended with a broad smile, saying: “... And here I am!”

 

After finishing off a second bottle of wine, Faylyn announced that she wanted to have a shower. As she came out, Hunter was standing at the door naked, a smile of appreciation on her face as she gazed upon her partner’s young body.

 

“You are so beautiful!” The older llianar exclaimed, taking Faylyn in her arms, “I had almost forgotten how sexy you are.”

 

As they kissed, the couple made their way to the large double bed in the other room. Hunter told her partner to turn around and lie down. She positioned herself behind her and took her slender cock in one hand. She sighed with delight as she felt it grow in response to her touch, her own member rasping between those young butt cheeks. Faylyn turned her head towards her lover, and their lips met once more. Her hips began to move back and forth against Hunter, whose eyes closed as she felt her lover’s firm cheeks caress her.

 

Just then, she looked up, and saw Jastra standing in front of her, half-cocked. The pair shifted position to make room for their partner on the bed. Hunter ended up on her back, Jastra kneeling next to her, and Faylyn behind Jastra. With her one hand, the llianar in the middle guided Hunter’s dick into her mouth, while the youngest pushed herself into her open quim. As Jastra began riding her lover, Hunter took her throbbing member in her hand and began jerking her off.

 

“Oh God!” Hunter cried out as she shot her load down Jastra’s throat, “It’s been so long!”

 

Knowing that her partner was not spent yet, Jastra continued. She moaned as her own gism spilt out all over Hunter’s leg and onto the linen below. Her movements propelled Faylyn into an explosive climax. Her whole body shuddered in a state of ecstasy as she threw back her head, almost screaming her delight. She withdrew, and shot another stream between her partners thighs before collapsing as if in a swoon onto her back. She lay there, now fingering herself, and watched Jastra climax again. The sight of her balls drawing up, her cock juddering, and the milky white strands cascading onto the sheets caused the young llianar to climax a third time, her inner muscles contracting around her middle and index fingers.

 

Before Hunter could cum again, Jastra lifted her head, and began coaxing her with her hand. The llianar's eyes closed as her hips bucked off the sheets. She gasped breathlessly as she came a second time, her gism landing on her lower abdomen. As her mouth came open, Jastra planted a kiss on her lips, and continued coaxing until she finally relaxed. She fell asleep with Jastra in front of her, and Faylyn behind her.

 

It was still dark when she felt her younger partner’s member harden against her. She awoke, and took it in her hand, lazily stroking the velvet tip until a warm trickle oozed out into her palm.

 

Faylyn turned over, and pushed her inside her moist quim. In a soft voice, she pleaded: “Give me something to remember you by.”

 

Hunter started thrusting into her lover from behind. The other llianar’s body writhed as she felt herself rise to a tumultuous orgasm. She bit down on the pillowcase so as not to wake the still sleeping Jastra. Hunter lay still, and felt herself fill her partner’s uterus with her seed. She went back to sleep, her member still buried inside her. When they awoke, they were still united, and Faylyn smiled at her, a knowing look on her young face.

The trio spent the rest of the sunny day together, wishing that it would never end. But all too soon the time came for Hunter to return to base. They said farewell to one another on the porch as the auto pulled up to take her back.

 

Three and a half months later, alas, a fundamentalist human faction attacked an arcade in a small town near Namenkard. Faylyn and Jastra had been sent there to collect medical supplies for the makeshift clinic that had recently been established in the village. Although both of them survived the massacre that killed thirteen people - sylvan, llianar and human alike - and injured a further thirty five, Faylyn was one of the casualties. Sadly she had just found out that she was a month pregnant. She suffered a spontaneous abortion as a result of her injuries.

 

What later became known as the ‘Danava Incident’ was seen as a senseless act of brutality by people throughout the Empire, human or otherwise. It caused a massive outcry, and many demanded that the Central Committee, the ruling Imperial body, take drastic measures to prevent such a tragedy from happening again. Instead a massive campaign of misinformation and propaganda was launched in which the attack was blamed on a radical sylvan group. The only difference now was that fewer and fewer humans believed these reports.

 

The attack also caused more and more sylvan and llianari to rally to the cause of the resistance, so much so that it now called itself the ‘Sellyeran Liberation Front’, and grew to over thirty thousand strong in less than two months after the massacre. Far from being a ragtag group of rebels, this force soon became a highly disciplined army, something those loyal to the Empress lived to regret.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


© Copyright 2018 Tristan Biggs. All rights reserved.

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