The Shamblers

[SillyScary69]

Teaser: Strong, dead hands grabbed the buckles on Sylvia's armor and tore them like tissue paper. She thrashed in the Shamblers' grips, trying to slip free, to no avail. She never thought she would go out trying to keep this stupid fucking armor on. The creature holding her left wrist released it and walked in front of her. She wanted to use her now-free hand to cover herself as best she could, but by some instinct she grabbed her necklace instead, and found herself clinging stupidly to a little scrap of old metal as her clothes disintegrated away to leave her cold and naked in the moonlight. The zombie in front of her removed its tattered trousers and knelt between her legs, already erect. Its cock was huge. Good thing she didn't need to lie to it.
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The author of this story has read and accepted the rules for posting stories. They guarantee that the following story depicts none of the themes listed in the Forbidden Content section of the rules.

The following story is a work of fiction meant for entertainment purposes only. It depicts nonconsensual sexual acts between adults. It is in no way meant to be understood as an endorsement of nonconsensual sex in real life. Any similarities of the characters in the story to real people are purely coincidental.
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Index:

1. Sylvia 1
2. Elia 1
3. Tatiana 1

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Title: The Shamblers
Author: SillyScary69
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No AI was used in the creation of this story.
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The Shamblers

Sylvia 1

Sylvia would have give anything to take her shitty armor off. It was heavy, it chafed, the buckles pressed uncomfortably into her skin. It was sized for a man much larger than her, but she had inherited it after he retired from the palace guard corps. None of the sets made for women could accommodate her bust. She was a little bit proud of that, honestly. The mail clattered and clanked as she walked the dark path along the perimeter of the manor grounds.

That noise would surely have killed her in her adventuring days, when stealth mattered because some asshole with a big sword always wanted to kill her for some reason or another. The happy-go-lucky adventurer life was more exciting than guard patrols -- in her current gig, she had never done anything more important than scaring away mischievous kids or the occasional wild animal. But older and less of an adrenaline junkie now, she liked the fact that the clamor didn't matter; a do-nothing job suited Real Adult Sylvia just fine. She had bills to pay. Anyway, she could see the eastern sky brightening a bit, and her shift ended at dawn; just one more circuit around the property and she could take the armor off and pour herself a beer.

Maybe if the armor weren't so loud, Sylvia would have heard a rustle in the bushes or a whispered command in the thicket of trees just outside the palace grounds. Maybe she could have given herself a chance to fight back. Maybe she could have called for help before someone put her in a chokehold from behind. Maybe she could have grabbed her sword before preternaturally strong hands pinned her wrists behind her back and dragged her into the darkness of the woods.

Good thing she still had a few wily veteran's tricks to escape from an assailant she couldn't see. She jerked her head back and listened with satisfaction as the nose behind it broke with a wet crunch. She contorted her body immediately, writhing to escape her attacker's grasp as they clutched their face or crumpled to the ground. But they didn't react. The arm around her neck and the hand holding her wrists stayed locked in place. The body behind her stayed flagpole straight, didn't even flinch from a blow that should have left anyone doubled over in pain, just calmly continued dragging her out of sight of the palace.

She tried not to panic. It took all of her self control to still herself and stop struggling when a quick glint of metal told her that someone had put a knife to her throat. She held her breath as a hooded figure flowed into view, holding the blade in a thin hand that extended gracefully from billowing black robes. "Cooperate or I'll kill you", said a sultry alto voice matter-of-factly from below the hood.

Sylvia nodded her understanding. The offer of cooperation told her she wasn't the target, and she had no intention of risking her own life for the stuck-up aristocrat who lived in the manor. The figure pulled their hood down to reveal ginger hair that cascaded down in waves over delicate features dotted with freckles. A long-healed scar ran along the woman's left cheek below an emerald green eye, but did nothing to mar her beauty. The front of the robes parted to reveal a low-cut black gown. A large amulet, a silver skull over an inverted gunmetal triangle speckled with tiny green glyphs, hung on a chain from her porcelain neck and dangled between perfect round breasts. Sylvia found herself staring, despite everything. Under other circumstances -- say, without the dagger and the death threats and the superhuman goon -- she would have tried to buy this gorgeous woman a drink. Maybe later.

"Is the bitch queen home?" Sylvia nodded. Even the mystery psycho's voice was beautiful, like the ring of crystal being polished with a silk cloth. "Where will she be this time of night?"

"In the master bedroom suite on the top floor, for at least another hour or two".

More questions followed, about guard rotations, servant work hours, locks on side doors, the location of Pavel, the captain of the guard (how did she know his name?). Sylvia found her mind wandering as she fielded these mundane queries. Hadn't she seen something like that amulet before? Actually, the skull was oddly similar to the little necklace she wore herself, a souvenir she had dug out of some dusty tomb back in her adventuring days. Odd, but this wasn't the right time to trade fashion advice with a crazed woman who could kill her on a whim.

Sylvia answered the questions honestly; she had no particular love for her employer. She'd never been able to lie to a nice pair of tits anyway. Or a big dick either, not that it mattered now. By the time all the questions had been asked and answered, three more figures, two vaguely male and one vaguely female, had come to flank the red-headed woman. Their movements were jagged and disconcerting, their postures rigid and their skin unsettlingly pale.

"Set her on the ground."

As the woman gave the order, she touched the amulet and for a moment it glowed a sickly green. The three newcomers moved forward and silently cooperated with the one holding Sylvia to lay her down on the forest floor. Each grabbed a limb and held it down.

Realization dawned quickly. The henchmen (henchpersons? Did they have gender?) were Shamblers. Everything made sense now. Of course it had to be a fucking necromancer using a stupid trinket to give crappy orders to some bullshit zombies. Sylvia had tangled with a few death-wizards back in the day. Always wily, conniving, self-serving, completely evil, and devastatingly sexy. Suddenly, she felt less optimistic about her chances of sneaking away and pretending she had never been employed as a guard if anyone ever asked how that one mansion got burned down by some strawberry-blonde nutcase. She didn't know how necromancers made new Shamblers, but the fact that she now lay spread-eagle on the ground gave her a hint and she did not like it.

"Hey now, let's chat, I still know more. I could help you." Her mind raced with ideas about how to talk her way out of this mess. "You're the boss's sister, right? I always liked you better than her anyway." This was a guess -- Sylvia had been off adventuring when the current countess had deposed the previous one, and she didn't know much about her notional former ruler -- but the quick flinch in her the ginger woman's elegant, freckle-flecked face told her she got it right. "I could take you straight to her. I'll even get the other guards to help you. They'll listen to me. Maybe together we can, uh..."

Sylvia knew this wasn't much to offer, and frankly she was bluffing anyway, but she didn't have a better card to play in that moment. Her voice trailed off lamely and the night air stayed quiet for a few eternal seconds.

"Fuck her until she joins us, then await further orders", the red-headed woman said, and swooped away.

Strong, dead hands grabbed the buckles on Sylvia's armor and tore them like tissue paper. She thrashed in the Shamblers' grips, trying to slip free, to no avail. She never thought she would go out trying to keep this stupid fucking armor on. The creature holding her left wrist released it and walked in front of her. She wanted to use her now-free hand to cover herself, but by some instinct she grabbed her necklace instead, and found herself clinging stupidly to a little scrap of old metal as her clothes disintegrated away to leave her cold and naked in the moonlight. The zombie in front of her removed its tattered trousers and knelt between her legs, already erect. Its cock was huge. Good thing she didn't need to lie to it.

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This is the first story I've posted here, sorry in advance for any errors in formatting, tagging, etc. I have a few more chapters written but I'll wait to post any until I've had some feedback from the community.

[Lucius]

I'm sold. Dark fantasy told in a modern idiom.

She'd never been able to lie to a nice pair of tits anyway. Or a big dick either, not that it mattered now.

Sylvia sure has potential!

Suddenly, she felt less optimistic about her chances of sneaking away and pretending she had never been employed as a guard if anyone ever asked how that one mansion got burned down by some strawberry-blonde nutcase. She didn't know how necromancers made new Shamblers, but the fact that she now lay spread-eagle on the ground gave her a hint and she did not like it.

Please continue!

P.S. I almost expected Quake porn.

[SillyScary69]

I'm sold. Dark fantasy told in a modern idiom.

She'd never been able to lie to a nice pair of tits anyway. Or a big dick either, not that it mattered now.

Sylvia sure has potential!

Sylvia's chapters are fun to write, partially because her character lends itself well to the kind of cockeyed modern language I took in this chapter. POV will rotate between a few characters, and I expect the tone to be quite different for the others.

Suddenly, she felt less optimistic about her chances of sneaking away and pretending she had never been employed as a guard if anyone ever asked how that one mansion got burned down by some strawberry-blonde nutcase. She didn't know how necromancers made new Shamblers, but the fact that she now lay spread-eagle on the ground gave her a hint and she did not like it.

Please continue!

P.S. I almost expected Quake porn.

Oo, I didn't know Quake had monsters by that name. I didn't intend for it to be super unique or anything, though. I really just needed an in-universe proper noun for these creatures.

Thanks for the kind words! The next chapter should be ready soon.

[TromboneDalek]

You have definitely captured my attention! Curious if her grasping her own necklace will do anything in the next chapter. Love the tie back to the start with not needing to lie to the cock!

[SillyScary69]

Elia 1

Elia swept down the damp subterranean hallway, her path lit only by the flickering torch in a flanking Shambler's hand. Despite the darkness, she had put her hood back up. She already regretted letting the guard see her face, though she regretted the information she had gleaned from the patrolwoman even more. It had confirmed her fear that the only reasonable way to enter the palace was through this dank, stinking dungeon, where the only things more fetid and vile than the rats and cockroaches were her memories.

After the coup, the bitch queen, her so-called sister Tatiana, had kept her locked in one of the frigid cells for months, chained naked to a filthy straw mat. Turncoat guardsmen she had handpicked for their viciousness repaid her generosity with daily beatings and endless humiliations. Years later, her head still rang with their cruel laughter as they took turns violating her in every way imaginable, delighted by her screams and speculating about who would be lucky enough to impregnate a noblewoman. Tatiana visited regularly, to gloat as she watched the men abuse her prisoner. By the time Elia managed to steal a key, from the loose belt of a guard as he ejaculated down her raw, aching throat, she was half starved and hadn't had her period in seven weeks. The forest herbs she had collected to regain her cycle smelled acrid and tasted worse, but as they did their medicinal work, they had also soothed the pain in her soul just a little.

There was no easy path from pampered minor noble to wanted fugitive to powerful necromancer. She had come this far only through force of will and a seething drive for vengeance. Years of research in moldering libraries and excavation in dusty tombs to find her amulet felt trivial compared to the suffering she had endured. So did the atrocities she had committed to build her undead army. She had always deserved her reputation for ruthlessness, but perhaps before the coup she would have hesitated to use mindless minions who reproduced through literal rape. To the older, more bitter and jaded Elia, it felt like justice, almost poetic after the ordeal she had endured. In any case, she didn't intend to stop now: she encountered three guards as she stormed through the dungeon, and she ordered two immediately held down, stripped, and forcefully added to her horde.

She remembered the third from her time in captivity: a huge, barrel-chested man, built and hung like a plowhorse, and with about as much empathy. He had taken her from behind every day for weeks on end, often with little or no lubrication, and laughed uproariously at her misery. He had insisted she apply makeup to her eyes every time, so he could watch it run in black streaks down her face as she cried.

He surrendered immediately. Coward. Elia had her Shamblers bring him to her and force him to his knees, then strip him naked and batter him to unconsciousness. Then she locked him in a cell with his own keys and moved on. She would return when she had more time, tools, and creative spark. But for now she had already wasted too much time; she needed to move before her vile little sister knew she was there. With a tap of her amulet, she summoned all the undead not actively engaged in conversion and had them form up behind her heels as she finally reached the spiral staircase at the end of the hall.

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Tatiana 1

Tatiana masturbated languorously from the nest of furs on her plush canopy bed. Usually when this kind of lazy, sultry, hedonistic mood struck her she would find her favorite beautiful 22-year-old stable boy and order him to fuck her to satisfaction, but she couldn't find him this morning. No matter, she would discover his new hiding place soon and drag him back into her bed. She enjoyed self-pleasure anyway. As her right hand slid her favorite ridged glass dildo in and out, bumping her clitoris gently with a knuckle at the apex of each thrust, her left sent little electric shocks through her nipple, just enough to hurt pleasantly. Magical training had more benefits than just combat spells.

Orgasms had come easily to Tatiana ever since she became countess. Having her pick of a terrified and compliant staff didn't hurt -- in addition to the stablehand, she had a favorite maid with supple rolling curves and a dexterous tongue -- but even alone, she could bring herself to the edge just by thinking about the beautiful early days of her reign. She had spent the happiest days of her life watching her stuck-up bitch of an older sister get her long-awaited comeuppance at the hands of laughing, jeering guards. Regularly. For months. The weight of a thousand childhood taunts and pranks had lifted instantly the first time Elia, covered in bruises and lowborn semen, had begged for mercy.

The psychological wounds of adolescent jealousies and adulthood injustices took longer to heal. Tatiana was beautiful by any standard, but her raven hair didn't turn heads like Elia's red-gold locks, and she had spent long hours in her late teens staring at herself in the mirror and cursing her narrow hips and flat chest, wishing in vain for her curves and bust to fill out like her sister's had at a much younger age. She still seethed with resentment and humiliation ruminating on the time when she was eighteen and walked in on Elia getting spit-roasted by the two most handsome manservants, while the two most beautiful maids stroked her body and sucked gently on her nipples. When Tatiana had asked timidly if she could join them, the man with his cock in her sister's mouth had told her to "come back when you grow a pair of tits". Everyone had laughed, Elia so hard that the convulsion made both of the men inside her climax instantly and messily. The servant had apologized privately later, claiming he had just meant he didn't want to get involved with such a young woman and had not intended his words to sounds mocking. It didn't matter; after the coup he had still suffered. Briefly.

Tatiana's toes curled with pleasure as she remembered watching Elia scream as the cruelest guard had sodomized her with the pommel of his sword. Inspired, she removed the well-lubricated dildo from her vagina and pushed it into her own rectum, then plunged her fingers as far into her pussy as they would go, as she brought her other hand down to rub feverishly at her clitoris. The colorful patterned silk robe draped over her shoulders sported a wet spot beneath her pelvis, growing quickly as she dripped down onto it. The garment hung open, revealing her body unashamedly to anyone walking past the open bedroom door. Servants hurried past in the corridor, trying to stay inconspicuous to avoid their mistress' fancy. In her mind's eye, she replayed the memory of watching Elia's tits, covered with equal measures of freckles and cum, bounce and jiggle as a muscular sadist from the guard corps pinned her wrists to the rough stone floor and railed her mercilessly. Tatiana carefully brought herself to the edge of ecstasy and stayed there, riding the self-imposed high as long as possible.

A timid-looking maid tapped tentatively on the wood of the door frame and cleared her throat nervously. Tatiana was about to order her to undress quickly and start licking when a shattering orgasm gripped her unbidden. Her back arched, her knees buckled, and she involuntarily emitted a raspy groan as her muscles contracted, twisting her body. The servant averted her eyes shyly and waited awkwardly for the long moment to pass. When the climax finally subsided, Tatiana's skin was red and beaded with sweat. Her night-black hair was a tangled mess and she had to wipe a drop of spittle from the corner of her mouth before she could prop herself up on a pillow to acknowledge the scared young woman at the door. "Yes?"

"My lady, um, I'm sorry to bother you, but I heard a noise from the dungeons, and when I asked the guard-captain to look he told me to come get you. He told me to tell you, ah, 'spitfire'".

Tatiana snapped to attention at the codeword and leapt out of bed. She didn't bother to dress or even belt the still-wet robe as she grabbed the gnarled wooden staff leaning on the end of the bed and scrambled, still barefoot and mostly naked, past the stunned servant. "Find any guards you can and tell them to meet me in the throne room. Then run and hide", Tatiana barked as she sprinted down the corridor.

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Second and third chapters, let's see if I can make the chapter links work right . Let me know what you think.

[Lucius]

After the coup, the bitch queen, her so-called sister Tatiana, had kept her locked in one of the frigid cells for months, chained naked to a filthy straw mat. Turncoat guardsmen she had handpicked for their viciousness repaid her generosity with daily beatings and endless humiliations. Years later, her head still rang with their cruel laughter as they took turns violating her in every way imaginable, delighted by her screams and speculating about who would be lucky enough to impregnate a noblewoman. Tatiana visited regularly, to gloat as she watched the men abuse her prisoner.

Well, Tatiana and Elia make the Ptolemaic dynasty look like the model of sibling concord. Do we get Tatiana's POV as well?

She would return when she had more time, tools, and creative spark.

Wicked!

A fine chapter, my only wish is for it to be somewhat longer...

Actually the forum rules do make the same wish.

Every post of a story must contain at least 1000 words of story content. Flash fiction - i.e. stories between 250 and 1000 words - is the only exception to this rule. Flash fiction must be completed within the opening post and may not be continued in later posts. #

Wordcounter says the Elia chapter is 609 words.

@SillyScary69 I'd be happy if you could have the length requirement in mind when updating the story!

[SillyScary69]

After the coup, the bitch queen, her so-called sister Tatiana, had kept her locked in one of the frigid cells for months, chained naked to a filthy straw mat. Turncoat guardsmen she had handpicked for their viciousness repaid her generosity with daily beatings and endless humiliations. Years later, her head still rang with their cruel laughter as they took turns violating her in every way imaginable, delighted by her screams and speculating about who would be lucky enough to impregnate a noblewoman. Tatiana visited regularly, to gloat as she watched the men abuse her prisoner.

Well, Tatiana and Elia make the Ptolemaic dynasty look like the model of sibling concord. Do we get Tatiana's POV as well?

Yep, next chapter!

She would return when she had more time, tools, and creative spark.

Wicked!

A fine chapter, my only wish is for it to be somewhat longer...

Actually the forum rules do make the same wish.

Every post of a story must contain at least 1000 words of story content. Flash fiction - i.e. stories between 250 and 1000 words - is the only exception to this rule. Flash fiction must be completed within the opening post and may not be continued in later posts. #

Wordcounter says the Elia chapter is 609 words.

@SillyScary69 I'd be happy if you could have the length requirement in mind when updating the story!

Hmm, I'm not sure about the right fix for this. I don't think that stretching this chapter out would serve the story well, but I don't know how to post two chapters at once without messing up the links in the table on contents.

EDIT: I added the third chapter to the post and got the table of contents working with section headers.

[Lucius]

Orgasms had come easily to Tatiana ever since she became countess.

Noble titles as a cure for orgasmic dysfunction is an interesting idea!

Having her pick of a terrified and compliant staff didn't hurt -- in addition to the stablehand, she had a favorite maid with supple rolling curves and a dexterous tongue -- but even alone, she could bring herself to the edge just by thinking about the beautiful early days of her reign.

Looks like power is the ultimate aphrodisiac for Tatiana...

She had spent the happiest days of her life watching her stuck-up bitch of an older sister get her long-awaited comeuppance at the hands of laughing, jeering guards. Regularly. For months. The weight of a thousand childhood taunts and pranks had lifted instantly the first time Elia, covered in bruises and lowborn semen, had begged for mercy.

Elia and Tatiana appear to be similarly ruthless. I can't help myself but ask a technical question -- how do you intend to distinguish their voices as narrators?

She still seethed with resentment and humiliation ruminating on the time when she was eighteen and walked in on Elia getting spit-roasted by the two most handsome manservants, while the two most beautiful maids stroked her body and sucked gently on her nipples. When Tatiana had asked timidly if she could join them, the man with his cock in her sister's mouth had told her to "come back when you grow a pair of tits". Everyone had laughed, Elia so hard that the convulsion made both of the men inside her climax instantly and messily.

Whoa, Elia was one sexually adventurous heiress, I suppose it made her neglect intriguing. Assuming the narrator is reliable, that is.

A timid-looking maid tapped tentatively on the wood of the door frame and cleared her throat nervously. Tatiana was about to order her to undress quickly and start licking when a shattering orgasm gripped her unbidden. Her back arched, her knees buckled, and she involuntarily emitted a raspy groan as her muscles contracted, twisting her body. The servant averted her eyes shyly and waited awkwardly for the long moment to pass. When the climax finally subsided, Tatiana's skin was red and beaded with sweat. Her night-black hair was a tangled mess and she had to wipe a drop of spittle from the corner of her mouth before she could prop herself up on a pillow to acknowledge the scared young woman at the door. "Yes?"

That's one hot self-love scene!

Tatiana snapped to attention at the codeword and leapt out of bed. She didn't bother to dress or even belt the still-wet robe as she grabbed the gnarled wooden staff leaning on the end of the bed and scrambled, still barefoot and mostly naked, past the stunned servant. "Find any guards you can and tell them to meet me in the throne room. Then run and hide", Tatiana barked as she sprinted down the corridor.

Barefoot and mostly naked and ready to do magic... Or whatever else is going to be necessary to survive.

[SillyScary69]

Elia and Tatiana appear to be similarly ruthless. I can't help myself but ask a technical question -- how do you intend to distinguish their voices as narrators?

That's a good question. I've spent quite a bit of time thinking about it, and I wish I had a better answer. It's the main reason for dividing the chapters by protagonist, but I agree that the tone could stand to change more between Elia and Tatiana. I do know that Sylvia lives in a totally different story from the other two.

[Lucius]

That's a good question. I've spent quite a bit of time thinking about it, and I wish I had a better answer. It's the main reason for dividing the chapters by protagonist, but I agree that the tone could stand to change more between Elia and Tatiana. I do know that Sylvia lives in a totally different story from the other two.

Hm, Sylvia might well mention how strong the resemblance is between Elia and Tatiana, even with the sisters deeply in hate with one another. Just an idea!