The first night was a marathon.
They had made camp off the road, in a clearing where the old oak trees formed a natural canopy. The fire crackled. The old man sat with the boy, telling him stories of dragons and foolish knights. The boy's eyes grew heavy. He fell asleep with his head on the old man's lap, the dandelion crown still on his hair.
Behind the carriage, the sounds began.
Wet sounds. Slapping sounds. The creak of wood. Muffled screams. The sounds of three women being broken in ways that would take pages to describe and lifetimes to forget.
Raven had started with Vess.
He had her against the carriage wheel. Her legs were spread. Her heavy tits were pressed against the wooden spoke. He fucked her pussy from behind. Twelve inches. The full length. Her belly bulged with every thrust. The parasite inside the pregnant woman—lying nearby, watching with dark, hungry eyes—vibrated in sympathy. As if it could sense the seed being prepared.
PAH PAH PAH—
