The Lusting Swarm pt1

This was an interesting one to do. I was given the idea for basically a sexed up variant of the Overlord games. I wanted to set it apart from Overlord's Harem, particularly that it would be about conquering and a more vicious ruler than just trying to make a home for himself. Did my best to keep Gareth going along with things but not especially nice of a guy. Bad dude, but not a total piece of shit. Won't go out of his way to kill one of his underlings, but won't take your shit and kill end you if he has to. The dregs were kind of neat to build, basically going for the Overlord minions, but http://shorty.booru.org/index.php?page=post&s=view&id=2012 is a decent reference that I kept in mind as a basis.

I also had a little more material in mind for this chapter, but it felt like a proper break. Likely back to this one soon, if not another part this month.

Gareth of Urndell was never much of a virtuous man. He could be called honorable, perhaps, but it was a flakey thing in such times. He kept his word, but he rarely gave it in the first place. He was a lord under King Uther, a man that many agreed to be fair but a bit naive. Gareth had lead his part of the kingdom while childless and unwed, not wishing for any such distractions from leading his people. It was one day that a plain messenger delivered news of the scheme. Gareth looked into it a short while, and as soon as it was confirmed he agreed. The rest of the lords, dukes and lesser nobles would arrange for the king to be assassinated. None of them would interfere beyond keeping the guards away from the king and then they would let the fates decide which of them would take his place.

That was how it was planned, anyway. Gareth and his brother the Archduke Liam wandered through the party and when they found the king dead, they were to report it immediately to the guards. He didn't know that Liam had planted the knife on Gareth himself and swore up and down that he had seen Gareth do the deed himself.

Gareth had been quickly subdued, and in a matter of days he was left in the Mourning Mountains. They were treacherous and frigid, which made them a favored place to banish the especially treacherous or wicked. Sure, he was involved in killing the king, but the fact that all of his fellow conspirators threw him under the bus like that was unnecessary. They must have thought that he was the prime candidate to become king and wanted him out of the way. It was why they saw him banished to the freezing mountains with a few days of supplies.

Gareth hunkered down in the cave, glad that he wasn't such a spoiled noble that he couldn't start a fire or boil water. He had been on hunting trips with his father, so he felt sure he'd last longer than the other traitors they'd thrown up here in the past. He was able to trap some game to add to his supplies, but it was anything but a pleasant stay. He was surviving out of sheer spite, resigned to knowing that he'd be doomed to die alone up here.

After a few days, he woke to find a small bundle at the entrance to the cave. He opened it up and found a few matches, a few usable pieces of firewood, and some dried meat. He didn't see anyone around, or even any tracks, but he assumed the wind had blown most of them away. If they wanted him to suffer up here, the guards must have been leaving supplies to keep him alive and miserable. It became stranger the next morning when he found a pile of what seemed to be squirrel bones woven into a bracelet. He stuffed it away with the rest of his things, not willing to lose anything he could use. Even a bit of twine could end up being vital. The next morning it was herbs in a bowl, and two days after some crude flute and small bits of rat meat. Something was definitely watching him.

Gareth went into his thick blanket for the night as usual in the back of the cave. He laid motionless, feigning sleep for several hours until he heard movement. He had his knife ready in case of trouble, but he heard the movements stop. He cracked open an eye and there was a creature staring at him; the light was low in the embers of his fire, but it was apparently purple, scarred and grinning as its teeth flashed and eyes glowed in the darkness.

"You awaken?" it asked in a low and almost disturbingly gentle voice. It was small, gnarled and twisted, but its voice came like he would have imagined with an angel (or at least an especially serving girl). Gareth threw off the blanket and moved like a snake. He grabbed the creature by the front of its clothes and drew his knife, fury behind his eyes. As his eyes adjusted to the moonlight creeping into the cave, it was the first time they saw each other properly.

Gareth was a broad man, thick more than he was visibly muscular. He had worked hard and trained in fighting as a boy before he settled into his lordly lifestyle, but he made sure to keep himself sharp and dangerous rather than risk the kind of treachery he had himself attempted. He kept a thin brown beard that had started to grow more wildly in the mountains, reaching his collar bone while his unwashed hair had grown just past his ears. He only had so many sets of clothes, wearing his thick brown coat and cloak with his uncomfortable trousers and boots.

The monster was something far stranger. She was purple with a vaguely impish look. Large, cat-like ears stuck out on top of her head with some long green hair growing out from between them. She wore a beast-skin cloak of some animal he couldn't recognize, wrapped loosely around herself like a shawl. Bare, clawed feet posed out from her robes now and then, and the cloak was low enough for some low, full breasts to be seen. It Crooked but bone-white fangs filled her smile, and while she hunched over, she was barely over three feet tall upright. She held a short cane that she used while walking, but she didn’t seem to truly need it. Despite her cronish posture, her purple skin looked surprisingly clean and smooth. Round orange eyes watched him closely with a wooden fork clutched in one clawed hand at the end of one long, loping arm.

"What are you doing here?" Gareth demanded grimly. He was expecting to interrogate the intruder anyway, but though he had faltered a moment after finding it to be some kind of monster.

The purple gremlin raised her hand and opened it, offering him the crude utensil. "I am called Sheg, and a messenger," she said in the same sweet voice. "And you, great one, have been chosen."

Gareth studied the fork for a moment before knocking it aside with the butt of his knife. "What do you want from me?" he growled.

"Ah! I'm so glad you asked!" The creature's eyes rolled downward, and the fallen lord looked briefly in the same direction. There was nothing but his legs to be seen. "Your loins, my lord. They will be what leads us both to freedom."

The violet creature lead Gareth down the mountain path. He had used it plenty of times looking for scarce resources, but Sheg climbed and squeezed between rocks with ease. Her long arms and squat body made her rather ideal for the deed. She ultimately reached a point on the path where they found a large crack in the stone. Sheg crawled inside of it, an act that took some strange wriggling. She was strangely curvy for her small size, and it became especially apparent when she became stuck halfway through the hole. She grumbled some curses as her robes were flipped up, squirming her round purple rump bouncing around until it squished through the crack. Gareth sighed and turned his head away. He had clearly been on the mountain for too long. Even if he wasn't hallucinating, he was starting to get... thoughts about the creature.

There was a click from the other side of the stone and it slid away like a hidden door. It revealed a passage tall enough that Gareth could get in by stooping slightly. Sheg waited for him by a lever before leading him deeper inside the mountain.

"You see, sire," she said in her strangely melodic voice. "Our kind is called the dreg. We have waited in this frigid land waiting for someone to guide us. We have been away from the realm of men for too long, and we have prophesied a great leader for... well, generations is a poor use of the term."

"And why is that?" Gareth asked, stooping along just behind the sagely gremlin.

"We have no living males. Our lifespan is long, but without studs we cannot mate. Cannot grow. We would be wiped out in no time. But our patience has been rewarded! You have arrived! You are our chosen one!"

"And what makes you think that it's me?" he asked, remaining gruff and skepticak. Prophecy business had gotten plenty of ambitious men killed in the real world. "Lots of men have been left up here to die."

Sheg laughed at that, her voice echoing in the long little hallway with its stubby torches. "Because, my lord, right now you are comprehending my native language. It has not been spoken to humans in many of your lifetimes. That is how I know you are our true leader." Sheg stepped out of the hall into a large and more open cave the size of a football field. It was sporadically lit with torches and bonfires. Combined with all the body heat, it made it the warmest that Gareth had felt in weeks. The cave full of more of the dregs, easily hundreds of them eatings, sleeping, eating, climbing, or fighting each other. They came in a variety of dingy colors, largey unwashed and either nude or barely clothed. They had heaps of food on racks to feed such a horde, raw meat or vegetables piled high.

When Gareth properly entered, Sheg didn't even have to announce his presence. The dregs started to stop whatever they were doing and stare up at him. Soon the entire mass of odd little women were gawking at him. Some giggled or bounced with excitement. Others shoved to get closer to the entrance. Gareth shed his coat in the heat and the curvy little creatures muttered eagerly in high, oily, gravely little voices.

Sheg nudged him in the leg. "Lead them, master," the dreg sage quiet quietly. "Bring your swarm out from the darkness."

Gareth cleared his throat. "My dregs," he started, and that alone got some eager squeaks and jabbering from isolated members of the swarm. He had been a politician, after all, and most of that was using words well enough to make people feel and think what you wanted. "I am your chosen one, Lord Gareth, and we have been wronged. We deserve better than a life like this. You shouldn't be a handful of creatures cramped into a cave. You should be a massive population able to drown out your enemies!"

Several of the dregs started to cheer and shout in approval. "It will not be easy," Gareth went on. "But it can be if we prepare. If we take the time to arm ourselves and bolster our numbers... with my help, of course..." This got some catcalls and hoots from the creatures. They clearly liked that one. "Then I'm sure we can overtake any kingdom and any army that gets in our way! I will lead you and I shall take the dregs back into the light and back into greatness!"

The swarm broke into wild shrieks and chants. Some stomped and grunted like a war chant while others threw garments or trinkets towards him as gifts and pleas for attention. Some ran off to make preparations for something. Sheg nudged his leg again and smirked, a few fangs peeking past her lips. "You did well, my lord. They're eager to please you already."

"It will take some time," Gareth conceded. "I'd like at least double our numbers before we take any real action against anyone in power." Sheg laughed at that. "What? You're long-lived. The time will come, and I am patient."

"Oh, sire," Sheg sighed with a smile. "You underestimate the dreg. We are strong for our size, but our true strength is in our numbers. We are built for breeding." She gestured off towards the mob of demonic savages. "Our colors change by how many births we have given. The more young they have beared, the stronger they become. What's more, we birth our young after one month. They are often litters of two or three. We have the rare case of one spawn, but they are often unique or gifted somehow."

"Like you?" Gareth guessed, starting to piece this all together.

"Quite so. You may even find the occasional litter of as many as ten! And as you might find most interesting, our spawn reach their physical prime in only six months. Quite quick compared to humans, if I recall." Sheg grinned at him again. "You shall have the army you desire in less than a year."

Sheg gave him a basic rundown of how things worked down in the dreg cave. Many of the random creatures offered him more of the little gifts like he'd seen by the cave, but he firmly yet politely turned them down. Sheg explained over the thrilled jabbering that they were meant to be like courting gifts. Humble sacrifices and pleas for him to breed with them next. While many of the dregs were dirty and nude, Sheg understood the fact that their master would need special care. The dregs quickly organized a hot bath and a hot meal for their new leader, and fetched him fresh clothes they had stashed somewhere. It wasn't the lordly attire Gareth was used to, but it was a fine improvement from his sweaty clothes he'd been wearing. A thin shirt, loose pants and a lightweight cape of furs were presented to him. His size, garb and cleanliness set him well apart from his new minions and clearly established his superiority.

Feeling refreshed, Gareth was eager to start up his new plan. Sheg led him off to a private room, which was to say a large crevice in the cave with a curtain drawn. Inside was a heap of furs piled two feet off the ground. Sitting in the middle was a bald dreg that was splotched with blue and brown like some kind of exotic toad. She was wide-eyed and smiling wider, a slightly distracted look on her face. She still had some curvy hips and the same massive chest as most of the dregs, wearing nothing but a tiny and ineffective loincloth. She saluted sharply upon seeing Gareth.

"This is Klung," Sheg explained, gesturing to to the ditzy-looking dreg. "She will be your first victim."

"I'd rather not call them that," Gareth admitted. "Partners will do, or mates."

"But Klung is everyone's victim!" Klung objected with a crooked smile. Her voice was cracked and raspy like many of the dregs he had heard in the main cave. Gareth frowned and looked back at Sheg.

"Is she quite alright?"

"No," Sheg said bluntly. "She is another one of those special cases that I mentioned. A singleborn. While my gift was in wisdom and magic, she possesses a remarkable body. She is nigh-unbreakable and heals from any wounds she may come across. We have found her jumping off cliffs or provoking others just to see how far her talents can go."

"It's not my fault some people can't take a joke," Klung muttered, but she still flashed a sly grin.

"Agreed," Sheg said with a roll of her eyes. "Bears do not take jokes very well. This is why I felt you would do best to mate with her first, sire. You may learn the ins and outs (as it were) of the dreg body with no fear of breaking or crushing her."

"Ooh, can we do that?" Klung asked eagerly. "The breaking and crushing part?"

"Do you want this or not?" Gareth said sternly. Klung squeaked and sat back upright, stiffly at attention. Sheg grinned at his behavior. She had told him that dregs respected a firm hand above all else. The seemingly immortal Klung waited patiently as her commander undressed... for a few seconds. She started bouncing in place after a few seconds, pointed ears wagging and breasts jiggling along with her. There was clearly no containing the cracked little dreg's enthusiasm for this moment.

When Gareth's cock finally came out, she couldn't restrain herself. Klung hopped the short distance with surprising speed for such a curvy little creature and latched her mouth around his shaft like a dangling treat. The fallen lord jolted in surprise as Klung seemed to attack his cock, only for a fat and slobbering tongue to slurp on his shaft before hungrily kissing his balls.

"Oh, Master Gareth! It's so handsome and big! I can't wait until you crush me with such a mighty thing!" Klung sang her praises as Gareth got his wits back together. After his time in the mountains, something lunging at his crotch was normally a danger rather than a worshiping she-beast. Gareth groaned and ran a welcoming hand over the unbreakable dreg's head, appreciating the oral affection after so long.

Sheg cleared her throat to remind him of his position. Gareth bolstered his willpower and stroked the phelating creature's broad ears, just to grab them firmly and pull her closer. Klung gagged as her throat was impaled by his hardened cock. The creature's already large eyes bulged as she flailed around, making her breasts slap against his thighs and balls.

"Tell me, Klung... in all your efforts, has anyone tried choking you? Someone must have with that big, wet mouth of yours." Gareth asked with menace in his voice. It was, of course, needless to try, but she didn't need to know that. The rowdy dreg gagged on his shaft, trying to sputter out some response. All she could do was drool over her own tits with her mouth forced open by his poorly-proportioned cock. She pushed with surprising force on his legs in an effort to breathe, but his grip on her ears was too tight. Her attempts at pleading made her throat close and pulse against his invading dick, something he had to admit felt incredible.

"Perhaps you're just too stupid to remember how to breed," Gareth went on degrading her. "You went after me with the wrong hole." He let go of Klung's ears, but while doing so he smacked her in the back of the head. It pumped her head forward as she bounced off his dick in one more tonsil-slapping thrust. She fell onto her bubble butt wheezing and holding her neck as her eyes and mouth watered. With her legs splayed open, her pathetically small loincloth showed that her pussy was in a similarly wet state.

"Yes, master!" Klung gibbered in a frantic state of fear and arousal. "How clumsy of me! Please knock some sense into me as you knock me up! Cum your wisdom inside me!"

The mad dreg was humping the air desperately before Gareth could even touch her pussy. He rested his strong hands on her soft, round tits and squeezed them as handles. His grip alone made her tense and mewl submissively, keeping her steady so he could plant himself firmly inside her blue slit. Gareth was surprised at how deep he went, burying his shaft up to the balls in the soaking wet opening. Gareth masked a flinch as Klung released a quick, shrill shriek. He hadn't even hit the back of her insides as her feet raised and clung to his hips just as firmly as her hands. Once she seemed to adapt to Gareth's girth inside her, she broke into a wild giggle.

"This is normal," Sheg said rather dryly for the strange sight. "Do continue, master." Gareth started to thrust into her, and he had to appreciate the strange but welcoming snatch of the creature. Klung's hole was tight and wet despite seeming to have plenty of room for him to go deeper. Her juice were slick and warm, giving him plenty of lubrication to his hammering thrusts. Her firm breasts bent out of shape with his tight squeezing, reacting instinctively to the building urge inside his balls. Klung was dragged up and down along the bed for the first few thrusts before she managed to plant her hips. While lightweight, the dregs were dense with muscle and knew how to use what weight they had. He could feel her strong legs and feet cling to his waist as he squeezed her nipples between his fingers.

"Teach your stupid Klung, my master!" the impish creature praised him. "I can feel how big and wise you are inside me! Teach me how humans cum, my lord!" Her pussy suddenly flexed tighter around him, starting to spiral her hips like some strange, reclining dance. It jerked on Gareth's dick in strange new ways as she bobbed her lower body up and down to jerk him off with her tight hole.

Gareth gave a low but loud growl and leaned harder on the dreg. Klung gasped from most of his weight leaning on her, but she excitedly bit into his fingers like an overly-playful puppy. Gareth came inside her, flooding her depths with his human seed until it could be heard dribbling out of her long, tight hole and onto the floor. Klung gave another short, shrill giggle as she wiggled her hips again. "I'm so full, master..." she teased. "Your children make me feel so wise..."

"At least I know I didn't break her," Gareth grunted, easing himself out of her until he left with a tight popping sound. Sheg watched with a wry grin, gesturing with her staff towards Klung. Gareth caught his breath and watched as the splotchy colors of her skin merged together, forming a dark blue color like the deep ocean.

"What was that?" Gareth asked. "The colors you mentioned?"

"It means you've succeeded, my lord!" Sheg praised. "Each time our bellies fill with young, we grow stronger and more fertile. You will fuel our people with your seed... not only with numbers, but with pure power." She pried the curtain open to let him peer out over the horde of dregs. "The dreg are born green, then become brown after their first litter. Then blue, then red, and so on."

Gareth found it hard to believe. They were a species built on breeding in every way, and he was the only fertile male capable of handling them. He smirked at the notion and all of its implications, particularly those that related to his enemies. "Klung?"

"Yes, my lord!?" The blue dreg hopped off the bed and saluted. Their mixed juices were still running down her thigh.

"Fetch me a drink."

"Yes, m'lord! Thank you, m'lord!" Klung darted out through the curtain. Gareth could see a few dregs staring at her, no doubt noticing the change in her coloration.

"I assume this is to your liking, sire?" Sheg asked with a smirk on her fanged face.

"I'm sure I'll be of good use to you. And vice versa. But let's not waste any time." He sat on the bed and gestured towards the main cave. "I'll need a few minutes. Once Klung is back, send me three more of them. Whoever you think would be best."

Sheg raised her eyebrows. "THREE, sire?" Gareth looked back at her with the expecting patience he liked to use around his old castle when someone was being especially ignorant. Sheg laughed aloud in her strangely beautiful voice and swept open the curtain. "Sister dregs! Klung the undying has been gifted with child! Our master demands more mates!" Hundreds of shrill and scratchy voices cheered and roared in delight for the rise of their people and the promise of all the sex they could handle. 

Gareth started making his rounds quite quickly through the populace. He paced himself to some extent, but it grew easier by the day. A couple weeks later and his earliest mates were already showing semicircular bumps on their stomachs. The dregs were literally lining up for him, and he had to change his sleeping quarters when his first began to simply reek of sex. He'd had to chase some of them away when he'd finally grow weary, but other nights he allowed himself a solitary dreg riding his cock as he went to sleep.

It was all a very empowering for the fallen lord. From nothing to a small army dying to live at his disposal. Hundreds of servants pleading to have sex with him. An unknown and dangerous force that was entirely powered by his dick. With every dreg he roughly impregnated (and thanked him for it), he was a step closer to his revenge.