The village square platform—still bearing faint stains from the previous night's double fox claim—had become the unofficial stage for every new arrival's breaking. By mid-morning, the entire village had gathered again: women perched on rooftops, leaning from windows, or standing in tight clusters, hands already wandering between thighs in anticipation. Word traveled fast in a place starved of men for centuries—Shabi's latest captives were being "trained."
Sir Alara and Sir Veyra knelt side by side on the rough wood, armor stripped away piece by piece by Kira and Lira. The knights' bodies were revealed in the daylight—toned from years of swordplay and riding, pale skin marked with faint scars from old battles, breasts full and firm, nipples dark and stiff from the cool air and unwilling arousal. Their wrists remained chained together with Zara's glowing silver links—short enough to keep their hands close, long enough to allow movement. Their legs were spread wide, knees braced on the platform, pussies already glistening despite their clenched jaws.
Shabi stood before them—naked, cock hard and glistening from the morning's quick wake-up fuck with Mila—arms crossed, grinning like the idiot he kept calling himself.
"Training starts now," he announced loudly enough for the whole square to hear. "You came to 'investigate' me. Now you'll learn what happens when knights kneel for the curse-breaker. Rule one: no armor. Rule two: beg for every touch. Rule three: cum only when I say."
Alara glared up at him—scarred cheek flushed. "We're knights. Not your playthings."
Shabi stepped closer, gripped her chin. "You're whatever I say you are. And right now, you're dripping for it."
He released her, nodded to Zara—who lounged at the platform edge, silks parted to show her own arousal.
"Demonstrate," Zara said smoothly. "Show them how you broke the gnoll. Then make them beg louder."
Shabi moved behind the knights—hands sliding down their backs, over firm asses, then between their thighs. Both women tensed—Alara biting her lip, Veyra exhaling sharply.
He slid two fingers into each—slow at first—curling deep, stroking their front walls while thumbs circled their swollen clits.
Schlick… schlick…
Alara's thighs trembled. Veyra's hips twitched forward despite herself.
"Beg," Shabi ordered.
Alara's voice cracked first. "Please… touch me deeper… I need it…"
Veyra followed—lower, huskier. "Fuck me… please… claim your knights…"
Shabi sped up—fingers thrusting fast and deep—until both women were moaning openly, pussies gushing slick down his wrists. The crowd cheered—some women openly squirting in sympathy.
He pulled his fingers free—coated in their cream—and brought them to their mouths.
"Lick."
They obeyed—tongues swirling, tasting each other on his skin, eyes glassy.
Shabi stepped back—cock throbbing—and pointed to the platform center.
"On all fours. Asses up. Show the village how knights present."
Alara and Veyra obeyed—kneeling side by side, backs arched, asses high, pussies and assholes exposed to the crowd. Chains clinked as they braced.
Shabi knelt behind them—thrusting into Alara first—deep, brutal—making her cry out and arch.
Schlick-slap-schlick.
He fucked her for a dozen strokes—hard, relentless—then pulled out and slammed into Veyra—stretching her wide, drawing a choked moan.
He alternated—back and forth—each thrust deeper, wetter, louder. The knights moaned in unison—defiance crumbling into desperate need.
"Beg for my cum," Shabi growled.
Alara broke completely. "Please… fill me… breed your knight slut… own me…!"
Veyra echoed—voice raw. "Cum in me… mark me… I'm yours…!"
Shabi slammed into Alara one final time—flooding her cunt with thick ropes—then pulled out, spraying the rest across both their backs and asses in hot, messy arcs.
The knights collapsed forward—panting, trembling, cum dripping from their gaping pussies and painted across their skin.
Shabi stood—cock still twitching—looking at the cheering crowd.
"Training complete," he called. "They're staying. Permanently."
He turned to Zara—watching from the edge, fingers buried between her thighs.
"Next caravan," he said. "Bring more. Mages. Princesses. I want an army of broken knights and queens."
Zara licked her lips—slow, deliberate. "I'll bring you the southern court itself… if you promise to ruin them the same way."
Shabi grinned—already hardening again.
"Truck-kun… keep the deliveries coming."