Victory Comes For The Bold

	The woman, bronze skinned and raven haired, tall and fair, gritted her teeth as the man behind her entered her roughly. She would have spat invectives or just spat if she thought it would matter. Berenike, daughter of Drakon, was not some toy for these pathetic mortals to enjoy in their spare time. She had been here long before their father’s fathers had been born and she would be here long after they were dust! But that didn’t stop the man behind her from fucking her involuntarily drooling cunt with slamming thrusts, forcing noises from her lungs that Berenike thought she would never make before she was bound here. One day, Berenike vowed as she did almost every day, Saban would pay for what he had done. Oh, these mortals would pay too, she thought as the man (one of her jailers, probably. She hadn’t seen his face, like the seven before him) split her open upon his cock again and again. She would just spare them the time it took to cut them in half. Saban would die slowly and painfully.
	Berenike gasped and her hands curled into fists, hanging as they were by chains when the man leaned forward and grabbed at her dangling tits, squeezing and clawing as he sped up. To be forced to endure these attentions was beyond humiliating, and she tried to pretend she couldn’t hear his heavy breathing and moans as he sped towards his end. It was better that way - he was not the first today, and he would not be the last. She could hear others behind him talking about something asinine, whatever mortals found interesting. Berenike could feel her own orgasm approaching and hated herself just a little for it. The warm honey-glow that had built over the last three men reached nearly her entire body now, spreading up her stomach to her breasts which were occasionally pinged with tiny stabs of pain that only seemed to enhance the sensation.
	The man slammed into Berenike, fast and rough suddenly, twisting his hips to force ever more of his cock inside of her and she felt the warmth inside of her, the boiling heat of his seed pool in her stomach and she almost (But not quite) felt like crying as she came, muffling her cries with her own tongue. The men behind her laughed, mocking her further as she stared at the stone wall in front of her. Her ‘lover’ squeezed roughly at her nipples and slapped her ass as she pulled out, causing her to try and jump away in vain, feet chained to the ground as they were. Berenike could feel the heat pooling in her belly and she knew that soon again she would be bearing another child for these mongrels, another half-breed for their amusement. Part of her hoped desperately that it would be a son. The other part of her felt nothing at all. After all, they would take the child away from her minutes after she gave birth.
	At least that was better than when they didn’t take the child away. Though she had been ignoring it, she could hear the blurbles and wet noises to her right and her head inclined to idly watch her daughter, barely twenty, take three men at once eagerly. Berenike should have felt pride at her daughter, the spitting image of her mother and the potential to be a great warrior, but all she could feel was rage and bitter despair. Already her daughter’s belly swelled with child again, and still the mortals would not let up on her, not that her daughter whose name she had never learned would have cared, for she had little of a mind at all left. The demigoddess wore a look of utmost exultation and happiness as she took the man in front of her to the hilt, breathing deep and sucking nigh violently on his cock. All the while behind her and below her the two men pistoned into her, bouncing her between them like a ragdoll.
	Berenike found it hard to feel anything besides rage and despair anymore. It had been so long since she had seen the sun. Was it a thousand years now? Two thousand? Who could say. She felt nothing when a new man stepped in front of her, naked as the day he was born and slapped his erect and throbbing cock on her face.
	“Open up, O bringer of victory.” The jailer deadpanned, to a chuckle from the men behind her. She gritted her teeth but knew that more resistance was futile and slowly opened her mouth wide until the man in front of her decided that things needed to be hurried along and forced her jaw open, thrusting into her mouth roughly. Her eyes watered at the sudden force but, unfortunately, this too she was used to. She resigned herself to occasionally licking at the underside of his cock as he fucked her face, grabbing roughly at her long hair and slamming her onto him again and again. And still she could feel another man behind her lining up at her rosebud, leaving her nether lips alone again to stew in the soup of four men’s seed. Berenike could hardly concentrate with the dick in her face but even she squealed when the man behind her forced his entire length into her asshole.
	There was no gentleness from either of them, but she had come to expect that. The occasional gentle man was an experience to be half-savored as a relief from the constant abuse she suffered and endured with her godlike frame. Berenike endured with as much dignity as she could given her position, fists clenched so tight that she would be bleeding if her skin could be punctured by something so weak as her fingernails. The sensation of having her asshole fucked was taboo long ago, but nigh on everyday for her now. It was simply more uncomfortable and violent than usual, but the mortal men seemed to enjoy it and thus Berenike suffered it regularly. Her legs involuntarily tried to force themselves together but the chains and bolts stopped them, so instead Berenike twitched helplessly, occasionally gurgling at a particularly rough thrust from both men much like her daughter gurgled even now to her right. She could do nothing but endure their attentions as they did their best to try and ruin her.
	Of course, they never could. She would heal any injury nearly instantly and she was made of sterner stuff than these ash-men, born from dust and destined to return there. So as always they thrust against her, slapping or pulling at her when it amused them and she endured it. One day, her time would come again, Berenike thought. One day she would be free. And as the two men came, one in her asshole, pouring his warmth into the goddess’ guts, and the other across her sneering face, she swore that there would be a reckoning.

But for now, there were more men to serve.