Exposed Ch. 01

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consentual or reluctant sex.

*

"A toast!"

Claire glanced over, suppressing a sigh as she watched a drunken knight climb atop a table. He yanked one of Claire's fellow barmaids up with him, and the unlucky girl let out a nervous giggle as he pulled her close.

"A toast," he continued, "to the Shoshen...Chosen Comman'er, protector of purity in our lands! With his brill'ant tactics, he an' we Knights've...'ve saved us once more, an' we're all 'ternally adebted! Wouldn't you agree, fair lady?"

Claire raised an eyebrow as the barmaid bit her lip, probably confused by the unusual show of chivalry. She was a petite blonde named Suli, with breasts that probably gave her severe back pains. "Y-yes?"

Inwardly, Claire prayed to the Goddess that Suli would have the sense to say no more.

"I..."

Claire gave a tiny groan.

Suli bowed her head. "...of course I'm eternally grateful. The Chosen Commander saved us from immorality and—and d-drove the perverts and whores back into their caves w-where they belong."

The knight raised an eyebrow and looked Suli over, staring openly at her breasts—barely covered by her skimpy uniform. He gave a malicious grin. "Not all the whores." He reached for a steel canister at his belt.

Suli blinked, wide-eyed. "Um...n-no. Please."

Claire turned away, doing her best to shut out the squelching sounds that followed. She heard Suli whimper. A loud moan echoed throughout the crowded pub, and the knight let out a roaring laugh. "Oh, yes! You like the tentacles, you drooling slut! Beg for more!"

"Ohh...p-please, sir—"

"Slut!" the crowd started chanting. "Slut! Slut! Beg! Beg! Beg!"

Claire rushed into the kitchen and closed the door behind her. She covered her ears, trying to drown out her friend's...sounds.

"For the greater good," she whispered to herself.

It was not easy being a spy.

"You must do this," the Goddess said.

Claire looked at the ground, knowing it would be the basest of sacrileges to gaze upon her queen. "But I fear, Goddess. The Chosen are even crueler in their own territory. We are already winning the war—"

"I have foreseen otherwise," Yillit said. The little goblin-like creature skittered forward on all fours. "Larya and her shifty friend turned something up. The rangers have been compromised."

Claire took a step back. "Surely not!"

"Listen to Yillit," the Goddess said. "Because of this, we can no longer rely on the rangers' support. Our foes have stooped to subterfuge, and so must we."

"My Goddess, I would not question—but—"

"I understand." The Goddess placed a smooth hand on Claire's shoulder. Claire felt a shiver run down her spine. "You know how they treat women there. You have no wish to return. But you must."

"Freedom in the kingdoms depends upon it!" Yillit leaped onto the Goddess's shoulder and out of sight. "I dare not imagine what would happen were they to make it past the Evergreen."

Claire swallowed.

"I understand, my Goddess."

Claire's eyes opened. She lay in her straw bed, gazing up at the rotting ceiling above her.

The Holy Word was not an especially well-kept inn, that was for sure. Nor was it kind to its female employees—though kinder than most in the area, perhaps. Still, she would never work here in a million years if it weren't for the fact that the Chosen and his knights frequented it.

Claire got up and spread her arms, yawning. She scratched one of her breasts, noticing her nipples were hard, as usual.

She rolled her eyes. She was pretty sure the innkeeper kept the barmaids' rooms this cold on purpose.

The other barmaids were already at work, meaning the users of the many peepholes had probably wandered off by now. For the moment, she was alone—a rare luxury in this nation.

Claire shook her long black hair out of her face, groaning. It would be a short-lived blessing.

She picked up the scant piece of red lingerie the Chosen called a skirt and slid it on. She put on her ill-fitting scarlet bra, struggling as usual to make it go all the way around. The innkeeper deliberately gave them clothes that wouldn't quite fit. Claire had made a few adjustments, but she was still effectively naked when she left the bedroom.

You're late.

She rolled her eyes, adjusting one of the two steel bracelets she wore. Yillit had promised not to use the telepathic link while she was in bed, but that didn't stop the little imp from 'talking' her ear off the moment she left the room. Worse, she couldn't respond to him without being found out.

You shouldn't be so late. They'll suspect. They'll know.

"They won't," she mumbled under her breath.

DON'T RESPOND TO ME! She grimaced as the words pounded into her skull. A moment later, Yillit's voice returned, quieter. Sorry.

Claire nodded briskly as she entered the common room.

The place was packed. Farmers, miners and Chosen soldiers crowded the bar, filled with the camaraderie only found when there were no girls in the club.

There were girls, though. Technically. Claire looked around, spotting each of her six co-workers as she walked by.

"Good morning, Tiri," she murmured. Tiri, a beautiful dark-skinned woman with curly dark hair down to her waist, was being shoved over the counter by a burly knight. She let out ecstatic cries as the knight plunged into her from behind, his trousers lying around his ankles. Several other knights appeared to be taking bets on how long she would last before passing out.

"Good morning, Amira." Claire patted the head of a beaming blonde as she went past. Amira only giggled as she fingered herself at the command of three masturbating youths.

"Good morning, Anne." She passed by a redhead with shining red eyes and a long, red tail. Anne was a succubus who'd had the misfortune of being summoned at the time of the Chosens' incursion. She had slain her summoner, only to be captured by the invaders before she could escape back to Hell.

It had taken a full hour with the Conversion to break her. Now Anne moaned happily as she sucked a miner's cock, her fingers slipping in and out of...

"Good morning, Eliene." Claire hurried past as Eliene's gasps got hoarser and hoarser. Eliene showed no response, eyes glazed with lust as she lay back on the chair and let Anne toy with her. Her golden tresses bounced every which way with every gasp she took.

"And...good morning, Suli." Claire tried not to look at the little one, who was humping one man and being fucked in the ass by another. Suli gave an earpiercing scream of pleasure, and was speedily silenced by a man putting his cock between her plush lips. She started licking and sucking in earnest.

She'd only been twenty years old. And now...

You really shouldn't greet them. It will draw their attention. And upset you.

But Claire knew she had to. Once, these women had been people. Suli had kept rabbits in a pen outside. Tiri and Eliene had been lovers (despite knowing how the Chosen treated homosexuals). Amira had been designing some sort of strange device to fly out of the Kingdom of the Chosen altogether. They had had plans, aspirations.

But then someone had noticed. Noticed they were still thinking, weren't loyal enough to the Chosen. And the Conversion...

Claire walked past her sixth coworker, Ri, without a word. She just gave a brisk nod. The slim, white-skinned girl nodded back, not making eye contact. They were the last two. Ri wasn't an infiltrator like Claire, but they were the ones who'd been able to keep their peace and avoid too much attention.

Too much. Ri was currently being straddled by a the same knight who'd Converted Suli. Ri didn't have the protective magic Claire did, and some soldiers seemed to like her strange skin. Or perhaps it was the way she was too frail to risk fighting back.

"Oh!" The knight let out a guffaw as he pounded into the little albino. Ri let out a gleeful squeal (one learned quickly to act as happy as possible about the situation). "That enough for you, bitch? You—ohh, gods, you like that?" He glanced at Claire. "Hey, you, uh...nnn...dirty slut...get me a beer, slut."

Claire hurried off. It wasn't wise to keep the Chosen waiting.

Mornings were always tough. Fortunately, things generally slowed down in the evenings, giving Claire and Ri a chance to catch their breaths. Literally, in Ri's case.

Currently, there were only three patrons: the Chosen who'd Converted Suli—Claire had heard him called Belkir—and two of the youths that had been watching Amira. The youths looked exhausted.

Claire concealed a smirk. No doubt they'd made the mistake of taking the nimble wench up to a room. Amira had always been a bit of a nymphomaniac, even before her Conversion.

Suli was keeping Belkir very occupied—she bounced up in down in his lap now, beaming at him with wide, hungry eyes. Belkir lay back, almost slipping out of his chair, his eyes half-shut. Suli's moans had gotten so loud, the bartender had been forced to come over and stuffed a rag in her mouth.

Claire sat at the counter with Ri and Amira. Amira was leaning against the wall, fingers lazily rubbing under her skit. Ri hunched over in silence.

The youths were on the floor, being caressed by Anne and Eliene. Anne was also licking Eliene out, eliciting harsh cries of bliss. The youths gasped as their cocks started to rise, but they seemed too tired to move. Not that that would stop a horny succubus—and right now, Anne epitomized horny. She would stop if they told her to, but who could ever tell a succubus no?

Claire and Ri shared a look. They couldn't say anything; not with Amira around. Amira herself had learned the hard way that Converted would give someone up in a heartbeat if they thought that someone wasn't doing their very best to please the Chosen. And her aircraft had brought her so close to escape, too.

Claire turned as she heard the kitchen door open, and the cook waddled out. Otyu was a grotesque walrus of a man, with greasy black hair and beady black eyes. Worse, he seemed to believe an apron was a valid substitute for a shirt. His body odor was unbelievably foul, and Claire had to concentrate on breathing through her mouth as he leaned in.

"Evening, bitches. I've got good news for you three lovely bimbos—I got no 'use' for you tonight."

Ri breathed an infinitesimal sigh of relief, even as Amira looked, as always, disappointed. Claire had to keep from rolling her eyes. She knew for a fact that Otyu had nothing downstairs, which was why he never had 'use' for any of them. Still, he had to keep up appearances. The Chosen dealt very unkindly with eunuchs.

"Yup, I'll be sleepin' alone tonight." Otyu sucked in a deep breath. "Looks like a slow night, anyway. You three might 's well head to—"

There was a knock at the door.

Otyu, Ri and Claire froze, even as Amira and the other girls looked up, eyes shining with sudden joy.

Oh, my. Claire heard Yillit gasp. It's...it's him.

Nobody bothered to knock at the door of a tavern. None save one man. A man so arrogantly stubborn in his traditions that he would never enter a building uninvited.

"Ri," Claire whispered, "we need more potatoes. Go get some." Otyu didn't object as Ri slunk away. Claire knew he had a soft spot for the albino, and was glad of it. She didn't want Ri getting involved in this.

At last. After all these months, she'd found him. The Chosen Commander, head of the forces of bigotry and tyranny. The inventor of the foul Conversion technique. Her most hated enemy.

A moment passed in silence. Claire licked her dry lips, then turned away and started cleaning the tables. "Otyu," she hissed, "the Commander?" It was risky to prompt him like this, but she couldn't bear the anticipation.

"Oh! Right!" Otyu gave a nervous nod, then called, "Come in!"

Painfully slowly, the door creaked open.

A handsome young man stepped through. He wore spiky metal armor, and a vicious-looking morningstar hung at his belt—right beside a small steel cylinder.

He looked around, locked eyes with Claire...and smiled.

Claire gulped.

"You do us tremendous honor, My Liege!" The old innkeeper couldn't stop bowing, but the Chosen Commander only kept smiling. "We...do have the savior of our lands...in my humble—"

"Please, sir." The Chosen Commander leaned back in his chair, raising a glass of wine to his lips. "I've only done what any other moral man would have."

The youths had scampered out. They'd tried to bring Anne with them, but the Chosen had put a quick stop to that. No barmaid was leaving the common room now.

The common room was now being flooded as no fewer than twelve soldiers poured in. Claire dodged nimbly around two, who ran past her and tackled Eliene to the ground. The golden-haired beauty could only let out tiny squeaks as they started pounding into her from both sides. These were men very experienced in the art of rape, and it was clear she was being completely overwhelmed both physically and sensually.

Claire stepped over Amira, who was rolling on the ground with three soldiers all eager for a chance with her. The Chosen generally kept plenty of concubines, but clearly these Chosen favored more...challenging fare.

Fare that was only mostly broken. Fare that still, deep down, objected to this treatment.

I'm not sure the enchantments will hold, Yillit warned. You may get...taken. Once or twice.

Claire understood. It would be worth it. The Chosen Commander was loudly going over war plans with Belkir, and she was determined to catch every word.

She watched the Chosen Commander surreptitiously. He was younger, and handsomer, than she'd expected. From his extreme beliefs, she'd always pictured him as an old man, but his short black hair had not a streak of gray, and his gray eyes shone with youthful lust for life.

She wanted to kill him. She wanted so badly—so, so badly—to kill him. She had a knife on her tray. She could do it.

Don't try it. Claire realized she must have been eying the knife, and scolded herself. They'll kill you. It's not worth it, especially since you might fail. We need that intelligence.

"...circle around," the Commander was saying. "The heathens will surely follow, and then..."

Claire edged closer. The eight guards were all 'occupied' taking turns with the girls, and—

"...hold on. Who's that?"

Claire froze. It took her a moment to realize the Commander was looking at Anne, not her. She turned, realizing the redhead was being completely ignored by the soldiers. The succbus sat on the floor, happily stroking herself and cooing nonsense.

"Who? Oh, Anne." The innkeeper chuckled. "She's one of the demon bitches, Your Eminence. Happened to be in the area when you liberated our lands."

"Why is no man taking her? Is the woman...defective?"

"Oh, no!" The innkeeper looked mortified. "She is very much Converted, Your Grace."

"Then why...Horace!" The Chosen Commander beckoned to one of the soldiers waiting for a turn with Tiri.

Reluctantly, the soldier came over. "Yes, sir?"

"Go fuck the succubus."

The soldier blinked. "...sir?"

"Take her however you like. But do it now." The younger man raised an eyebrow. "I do so hate to see property go unused. It must make her so very unhappy."

"But...sir, I..."

"What is it?" The Commander's eyebrows arched.

The soldier bit his lip. "...the demon frightens us, sir."

"Ah."

For a moment, there was silence. Then, the Commander raised a hand. "Demon. Come here."

Anne looked up. Eyes shining, she leaped to her feet and—"

"No. Crawl. Crawl here, creature."

Annuisetvio blinked. She slowly crouched down, but seemed to hesitate. Even as fiercely exposed to the Conversion as she had been, the demon within resisted being controlled by any mortal.

"Demon." The Commander raised an eyebrow and curled a finger, beckoning. "Crawl, slut."

Slowly, haltingly, the demon began to crawl. The other soldiers stopped their activities, looking over for a moment before being drawn back into the fog of lust by their own victims.

At last, Anne the succubus knelt before the Commander, looking for all the world like a pet that had been called by its master.

The Chosen Commander's hand slunk down, agonizingly slow, creeping between Anne's legs. Claire realized she was staring and quickly averted her gaze as Anne started moaning.

"You see, Horace? They are all sluts. And they all know their place now."

All but one, Claire thought, eyes narrowing. And tonight, she was going to prove it.

She was serving drinks when it happened.

"Whore."

She froze, just for a millisecond, before looking up. The Chosen Commander leaned back in his chair. He looked at all the other girls, who had also reacted. "Ah, no. Not specific enough."

Every man in the room laughed, but Claire had a sinking feeling in her gut. The Chosen Commander pointed at her. "You. Come."

She trembled.

"Bring me a drink."

Oh. Was that it?

She carefully concealed her relief as she walked over and set his drink down. Her hand had a slight tremor to it. "Your drink, Your Holiness."

She turned to walk away—and felt his hand wrap around her wrist. Not tightly, but firm nonetheless. He spoke quietly. "Please, slut. There's no need for such formality."

She swallowed her fear and turned back, flashing an eager smile. "Commander?"

If she was going to get fucked...well, it was for the greater good. She couldn't let her cover be blown.

He smiled at her. "Oh, slut. How you have deceived them."

To her horror, she realized he was fingering her left bracelet. The bracelets were used to identify captives of the Chosen, but hers were forgeries.

He knew.

She tried to wrench her hand away, but his grip was like iron. She shook. "Wh...I don't..."

"Oh, you poor, confused harlot." His voice remained quiet. "You have been so harshly wronged."

His hand reached up and caressed her cheek. "Beautiful. Large breasts, womanly hips, smooth skin...you will make a fine addition to my army's collection."

She flinched away, glaring. "Don't touch me."

"Shh. Be not so fierce, little lamb. Or the wolves will hear you." He gestured around at the soldiers. "You don't want that."

Oh, Goddess. Yillit's voice was shaking. Claire, RUN.

"I can't," she whispered.

The Commander seemed to take this as an expression of submission. "That's right, little one. You can't." He wrapped an arm around her waist. "So be meek as a kitten, and perhaps you can avoid...this." He patted the cylinder at his belt.

She closed her eyes, fighting back tears. "No."

"Nobody can help you. You are mine."

"No," she growled.

Claire, be very, very careful.

"I won't let him break me!" she hissed.

The Commander blinked. "Who are you...ah." He eyed the right bracelet, smiling. "Telepathic communication. Is that your 'Goddess' on the other end?"

His hand slowly crept down her leg. "I'm going to fuck her, you know," he whispered in her ear. "I will make her scream for my cock, just like I will make you. Perhaps I'll let you rape her afterwards. Strip away any claims of holiness she might have left."

Claire's teeth clenched. "Fuck you."

"Oh..." His fingers crept under her skirt and began running along the folds of her pussy. "You wish."

The pleasure was a shock. Claire had not masturbated in months, and...oh, Goddess...that felt amazing. She let out an unwilling gasp.