1.
In their haste to escape Eggun's lair, Fyyra and Shoradeen and the five other naked knights had ended up running the least helpful direction, south. It wasn't done on purpose. There was no discussion. None of them had stopped at the cave mouth to look around and consider where to go. They'd just all hared into the trees and kept going, as fast as they could, and as long as their strength held out.
If they'd happened to go a different direction, they would soon have emerged into open, inhabited country, and reached a road or farmers' fields. Eggun's cave was quite close to two different villages, with a prosperous manor spread between them, all providing rich pickings for the demon to prey on. But to the south was just unsettled wilderness, a vast grim forest, little explored. The women had plunged heedlessly into its depths. When daylight reached them and they figured out what they'd done, they couldn't find their way back. Furthermore, they were frightened to try. Eggun might very well be waiting for them in that direction. In fact it felt more likely he would already be pursuing them. They decided they best keep going straight ahead, at least as much as they were able.
Of course there was no one to help them in those woods. No one to give them shelter, food, clothing. They had no weapons or tools. They had nothing, except for Fyyra's crooked, droopy-tipped hat. Then the weather turned against them, too. The wind began to howl, thunder to boom, and rain to pour. The storm lasted for hours. Soon it had turned the ground swampy. Soaked and shivering, caked to their knees in mud, their misery was great. The passing of the storm gave no relief, for the sun's return brought punishing heat and humidity.
"How long can we survive out here?" Fyrra asked, "What are we going to do?"
"I don't know. I've seen deer and squirrels all around us. With a bow I could quite quickly procure a rich feast for us. But bows are not easy to fashion without the right supplies. We'll have to make do with crude spears, I suppose."
Exactly such an instrument appeared before them, pointing at her chest. It was held by a grinning satyr—a man that was half-goat, with shaggy backward-kneed goat legs, a goat's tail, and goat horns projecting from his forehead. His ears and his beard looked likewise goatish. His bare arms and torso were elaborately tattooed, mostly shades of blue. They depicted tangled, leafy vines, with bright gold eyes peering through them in several spots, as if a horde of little curious figures were hidden under his skin.
"Oh, wonderful," said Shoradeen, raising her hands.
The satyr was not alone. Over a dozen others had surrounded them, hooting and stamping their hooves.
"I've never had dealings with these creatures before," said Fyyra, "I can't understand their language."
"I can talk to them, more or less," said Shoradeen. "But it's hardly necessary, almost. I can already tell you what they're going to say."
2.
"Well, Fyyra, I think they'll help us. They tell me they'll guide us to the far side of the forest, and they'll make sure we don't starve on the way. Should take about four or five days. Could probably be done quicker, but men like these, you can't make them hustle. They've mentioned a castle on that side, not far beyond the edge. I think I know the one they mean to aim for. If I'm right, it's the place of an old friend of mine. It's a foul, crumbly little thing; I heard he took it over in the last war down in those parts. A crumbly castle is far better than no castle. He'll be good to us there, once we get to him."
"That sounds good. You did well, Shoradeen."
"Don't be so sure, little witch. There will be a price."
"All right. What do they want?"
Shoradeen rolled her eyes. "They're satyrs, Fyyra. What else would they want? We've nothing else to give them out here, anyway, have we?"
"You mean ... they want us to ..."
"Yes. I imagine it won't just be one time here at the beginning of the arrangement. Part of the reason it will take us so long crossing their territory. There will be frequent stops along the way."
"Do we have to agree to this, Shoradeen? Isn't there another way?"
She shrugged, red in the face. "If we refuse, they will probably take us by force in any case. And then of course they won't give us the help we need after they've finished. If they finish, that is—they could decide to keep us captive. Make permanent pets of us."
"How do we know they're not planning that anyway, if they're as animalistic as you think?"
"We don't, Fyyra. But if we're ... well, cooperative, there's a chance they'll stick to their side of the bargain. What chance have we got if no bargain is made?"
"We don't need them. We can fend for ourselves, one way or another. You're all knights, aren't you? You know how to survive in the wild. Can't we just fight these bastards off?"
"We are not exactly well equipped, Fyrra, for combat or for survival. Look at us. Look at yourself! We're all hungry and exhausted. Even if we had weapons at hand, I don't know that my girls would be much good with them at the moment. After our time in that cave, you know ... They're demoralized, Fyyra. So am I."
"I understand. I'm sorry to push at you. It's too soon."
"What about your magic, though? Has your power started to recover?"
"I'm not sure. A little, I think. Only a little, though."
"If anyone can get us out of this situation, it has to be you. Hate to dump this all on your shoulders. We owe you for too much as things stand. Think carefully, Fyrra. There's a bunch of these satyrs here. They're wild and they're strong. They're eager for us, too. You can already plainly see how eager they are." None of the satyrs wore pants. "If you're not feeling powerful enough to take them on, knowing you can win, then we're going to have to give the buggers what they want. If you try and just mess up, that will make things much worse for all of us."
"I know. I can imagine. Goddess, it's hard to decide. I'm frightened but ... I don't want to give in these guys. I won't just let them grab me since I happen to be standing here. It's not fair. It's not kind, either."
"The brutes don't see it that way. Not that it excuses them. The fact they've found us running naked through their woods, though, it painted a picture for them. I've tried to explain how we got here, what we're running from. They don't wanna listen. They think I'm being coy. They think we came in here looking for the buggers."
"Of course. How flattering for them. All right, now I'm suitably angry. I'm going to try to take them down, Shoradeen. Soon as I begin, the rest of you start running. Don't look back. Don't wait for me. I'll catch up with on my own, when I can."
3.
She did damned good, in the circumstances. As drained as she still was, and flustered, Fyyra gave the satyrs a solid ass-kicking. Her magic picked them up and flung them around like stuffed toys. All but a couple.
Those two chaps happened to be wearing protective amulets around their necks. She should have noticed before. Her spells couldn't hurt them, as long as they had those things. They were twin brothers
She'd given time for Shoradeen and the rest of the knights to flee. Fyyra herself wasn't able to get away. The protected twins ran over and tackled her together. They pinned her to the ground, and then without a word they proceeded to fuck her, right there on the spot. Their comrades were scattered far and wide, half of them knocked cold, the rest clutching their injuries and groaning. The twins didn't bother checking on their friends. A few dangled sheepishly upside down from branches, caught in the trees after her magic launched them airborn. She hadn't killed any of them, though. For a time she would regret that.
Fyyra screamed as a satyr's cock plowed into her ass. When she did, the other satyr took the opportunity to fill her open mouth with his cock. She tried to bite it off—she found she couldn't harm it. Further protection from his enchanted amulet.
They used her brutally. It made her regret escaping from Eggun. Nothing he had done to her, not even the whipping of her breasts, had been as bad as that was. At the same time, somehow, she got a strange, funny satisfaction in the awfulness. The absolute extremity. She took pride in the fact she was sacrificing herself to save the other women, and truly suffering for their sake in the dirt. The cruelty of the twins added to her sense of accomplishment.
She thought she would die. Perhaps she would have if it had lasted longer. She'd started rather looking forward to it, reveling in her defilement as means of hastening that inevitable conclusion ...
The twins both came at the exact same moment. It was a trick of theirs. They always did that, every time they fucked her together, whatever pose they stuck her in between them. Luckily, that didn't happen many more times.
The other satyrs got angry at the twins for using her too harshly, as well as for the selfishness they displayed after the fight. When the twins had satisfied themselves with her, they immediately started beating her with sticks. Thorny switches. She couldn't defend herself in the slightest. She was far too distressed for further spellcasting, scarcely conscious any longer, and even if that hadn't been true, her magic didn't work on them.
