Vaid Empire: Mother of Tentacles

Vaid Empire: Mother of Tentaclesis a prequel toVaid Empire: Conquest, though acts as a complete stand-alone. No prior knowledge regarding the previous series is required.

Long before the rise of The Vaid Empire, far on the other side of Ayphieal, a young woman finds a deeper purpose beyond her own survival when she is captured and offered to an ancient monstrosity.

Ancient entities conspire to achieve hidden schemes while tentacles spread across the land in this strange and mysterious prequel.

New chapters and artwork are released every month for free, with the completely optional possibility to receive early access on the official Vaid Empire Website. The Series focuses heavily on worldbuilding, story, and characters.

***

50th of Twic, 767 BVE.

Deep Jungle.

Slime dripped down the girl's crimson skin. A gurgling moan eased passed the tentacle slithering down her throat. Thighs parted, the sounds of wet thrusts echoed to accompany every squirming movement of her body, wrapped in constricting tendrils.

Aifa heard a whine as Vaecath unleashed his seed. She caressed the girl's skinny figure, a young thing, becoming a mother with every pump of viscous white liquid that oozed from her loins. "Good girl. Rest now."

She was the last of them, the final womb the tribe could offer. Shuddering, lithe back arching, she fell limp within the grasp of Vaecath's black tentacles. The creature lowered her carefully to the ground. Tentacles slithered away through the mud, revealing her drenched body, her unconscious mind forged anew.

Aifa heard Darmi's gasps from behind, turning to watch as Jynae-bal's golden tendrils writhed between the younger woman's thighs. She let her finish as Vaecath quickly constructed a temporary structure around their latest victim. Safe from predators, or, rather,safer, they allowed the new mother to sleep.

"She was the easiest to break," Darmi said as she caressed Jynae-bal. Over the past few days as they observed the nearby tribe, luring their victims whenever an opportunity arose, the golden creature had seemed to double, then triple in size. No longer did she bother to carry him, instead permitting the beast to follow on his own. "Mistress, what'll become of them now?"

Assessing the shelter for faults, and finding none, Aifa waved a dismissive hand. "They'll give birth. Such is what nature created them for. Such is whatwerequire of them."

Moonlight trickled through the trees as Darmi gathered the flowers around them, preparing to return to their temporary camp. "Yet the men shall learn the truth after their women give birth and they find themselves without new children, won't they?"

"What of it? Vaecath's offspring shall be safe, and they'll seek us out when he calls to them," Aifa explained. When she saw that her words did little to dampen the girl's concern, she put her hand on her hip and sighed. "Perhaps the women shall be punished. Perhaps they'll be clever. Perhaps they'll even flee. They accepted this burden, Darmi."

"They would never have accepted Vaecath's seed if they weren't restrained."

Tail flicking with annoyance, Aifa scowled. "They required...convincing, yet convinced they were. All five accepted our commands. All five were fertilized only when their bodies and minds accepted the burden ahead."

"Yet Vaecath manipulated their minds until they-"

"Their minds were reshaped. Do I not serve Onaalag's designs through my own will? Wasn't I myself broken and remade by his touch?" She gestured to Darmi, watching a golden tentacle coil around the girl's thigh. "What of you? You resisted Nula-bal, did you not?"

"I suppose, mistress..."

Placing a hand upon the younger woman's slender shoulder, Aifa moved closer. "There is your excuse, if you require one. After these women give birth, they're no longer our concern. Shed no tears for them, for they'd shed none for you."

Darmi blushed, offering a guilty shrug. "So you say. I-"

"A hunter seeks his missing mate."

The voice caused them to crouch, concealed within the vegetation.

"Where, Vaecath?" Aifa asked quietly. A raised tentacle gestured through the trees. A moment later, her antennae twitched as she sensed the scent of a prowling Cavari male.

A hand silenced a nervous question upon Darmi's lips, and she froze under the firm grip of her mistress. Listening, they heard faint footsteps creeping through the jungle.

"A hunter awakes alone. A hunter readies his spear."

Aifa grimaced. "You manipulated the others. Can you repel him, Vaecath?"she thought.

"A being contains seed. A being contains a womb. Two creatures hold two minds. One is in tune with our voice. Another is not."

The whispers caressing her mind grew apprehensive, an uncomfortable feeling that made her skin crawl, yet she insisted. "Try."

The black beast shuddered. Tentacles writhed, recoiling. Through the vegetation, they spied the first glimpse of the man, creeping along, spear ready to strike at the first sign of danger. His antennae twitched, tail flicking, as if seeking the scent of his missing mate. Moving closer and closer, only the smell of their flowers concealed their presence.

Aifa watched his eyes clench shut, blinking, shaking his head. He began to rub his eyes, peering around.

"No," the man said, swatting at empty air.

Turning to her mistress, Darmi offered a concerned expression as the man began to stumble.

"No...no..." The man stabbed his spear towards the sky. "No...get out...no...NO..."

Watching the spear fall to the ground, Aifa covered her companion's mouth once more as the girl gasped, watching the man smack himself. His hands turned to fists, striking the sides of his head.

"NO! I won't! NO!" The man stumbled into a tree. Beginning to scream, he bashed his head against the hard wood repeatedly, leaving splatters of glowing azure blood with every hit. "GET OUT! GET...OUT!"

Darmi dared to pull Aifa's hand away. "Vaecath!"

A sickening crunch echoed after a final slam of the man's head. He toppled backwards, crumbling to the ground. His body sat limply, unmoving.

"What did you..." Darmi watched the black beast slump, tentacles lowering with exhaustion.

"A command lures a womb. A command is rejected by a seedmaker. Two beings. Two natures. One incompatible."

Aifa pulled Darmi back, forcing her to look away. "Such wasn't his intention." She led her along, abandoning the shelter behind them. Vaecath followed slowly, lethargic, his tired state nearly seeming to drain her own energy as each step came with more difficulty than the last. "The jungle shall claim the body before morning. Our new mother shall never know."

"I...want to sleep," Darmi muttered, trudging along as they made their way towards their camps.

"Sleep then, child," Aifa replied, more than happy to join her as she bit back an exhausted yawn. "Our business here is done."

5th of Thriduin, 767 BVE.

The Holy City of Aslyd.

Constricting black walls surrounded her, buried within her small ziggurat, yet Sarui chuckled as her finger traced over the mutilated slave's groin. "Truly? You feel nothing?"

Thuron, ever obedient, stood with his hands clasped behind his back as she touched where his manhood used to be. "Nothing, mistress."

Sitting upon the ledge that held her sleeping mat, a cruel curiosity filled her gaze with every teasing caress. "What an agony." She cupped his testicles, two tight orbs that appeared lonely without the shaft of his cock. "I'd cut my own throat."

"I knew the price for my devotion to The Knowledge Holder. I'd make the sacrifice again without hesitation to serve him," the young man said, his breath catching for an instant as her grip tightened. His seed sat inside, perfectly potent, yet voluntarily trapped. Such was his devotion, forgoing the power to create, to sire life.

"Devotion," she repeated as if tasting the word, finding it fowl. "Does that claim still hold true after the death of the great one? My father is merely a man now."

Though clearly uncomfortable with the question, the slave nodded. "He may lack the whispers of the great Onaalag, though Mauron was once chosen as his holy messenger. If The Creator's first creation deemed him worthy to lead us, that remains true even now."

Sarui shrugged. "So long as the population believes the same, I'll offer no complaint." A finger traced the scar of his groin as her smirk returned. "Still, don't expect me to make such sacrifices. To never feel the touch of a lover where you need it most?" she chuckled. "Is the sight of me a torture, Thuron?"

He watched her run a hand down her body, a teasing cruelty in her eyes. He could only shiver with need. "You put it best,an agony. If my suffering honors The Creator and The Knowledge holder, I'll bear it with pride."

Finding her young, perky breasts, she circled her pierced nipple with a finger, watching him squirm. She savored his visible lust, a permanent ailment, satisfaction forever beyond his reach.

The absence of her hand upon his testicles coaxed a yearning the moment it departed. He watched as she parted her thighs, a finger running between her sweet lower lips.

Sarui heard him whimper, touching his scar with obvious longing. Idly teasing herself, Sarui soon peered about the small chamber, losing interest in his suffering. "I find myself bored, slave. Did father not task you with keeping me entertained?"

"That wasn't exactly his command, mistress, though I-"

"You know, there's something I've wanted to see for quite some time," she interrupted. "Walk with me. If father wants to keep me occupied, endlessly bored while he drowns in his duties, I may as well fulfill his wish and find a distraction for myself."

Hurrying to follow her graceful strides as she left the chamber, Thuron shielded his eyes from the bright sun, descending the steps of the tiny ziggurat. It had been built somewhat close to the colossal central ziggurat by her father to serve as her living quarters. Though her dwelling rested in the larger structure's shadow for many hours each day, the scorching sunlight felt hot on his skin as they stepped onto the street. "Where, Sarui?"

"Somewhere that now lacks purpose," she said, not bothering to explain further. The guards waiting outside moved to follow, yet the crowded street parted to make way without their intervention.

Feeling the dirt beneath her feet, she watched men and women bow their heads as they passed before continuing to go about their business. The street took them through a market, oozing with the countless smells of meat and fruit. Merchants shouted to get the attention of anyone who passed, their wares spread out on display upon woven mats. Men haggled loudly beneath canopies, while children scurried through the market, laughing.

They passed women with every type of piercing imaginable decorating their crimson bodies, and men with gold rings on display around their cocks. The moans of lovers echoed from several of the windows they walked by, while others held the cries of babies calling for their mothers. Everywhere she looked, heard, smelled, The Holy City of Aslyd breathed with life, new and old.

"What'll become of us, do you think?" Sarui asked. "Now that the great one is gone, we're lost."

A passing girl caught Thuron's gaze, her hips and tail swaying. "Our progress came from his whispers, yet we're far from mindless. We'll find our way forward."

"And when my father dies? No whispers shall come to select the next," she replied, watching a guard shove aside a man that had wandered too close.

Thuron tapped his chin in thought. "I've spent many hours discussing that very concern with The Knowledge Holder. Perhaps the title shall become ceremonial, rather than functional. Perhaps the throne shall be inherited through blood or elected by the priestesses. It's a new era, Sarui."

She couldn't help but grin, intrigued. "Indeed it is, and I plan to seize this era."

His brow raised. "Oh? What designs are held within that pretty head of yours?"

"Designs?" She nearly sounded surprised, as if the thought had never occurred to her. "Luck, Thuron. Such is the key to all greatness. I stood beneath The Creator and demanded nothing less."

Dumbfounded, he bit back the worst of his words. "No one is merely handed greatness."

"Handed? I said nothing of the sort." She stumbled, accidentally stepping into a small puddle in the street from a recent storm. Despite her prayers, she didn't feel particularly lucky. Thuron grabbed her arm, steadying her as she huffed. "I merely need to be patient. My path shall reveal itself. After all, if the throne becomes hereditary, who stands to gain it more than my father's eldest child?"

The touch of her smooth skin softened his reply. "Ifit becomes hereditary. The matter is far from certain."

She shrugged. "If not, The Creator shall provide a different path. I shall find an opportunity to make myself into something more, or I'll be cast down among the ordinary population when father dies. If the day comes and I find myself among the rest, I'll throw myself from the ziggurat."

"Don't be foolish. Don't rely on luck, or the generosity of a god. Bleed for your greatness. Earn it." He met her surprised gaze with a challenge.

She scowled. "Are you not in the service of my father? Is a slave accustomed to speaking in such a tone?"

"I am devoted to The Knowledge Holder, and by extension, his daughter. Concealing harsh truths from you serves neither." He offered a smile.

They reached the entrance to the central ziggurat as her ire dampened. Stepping inside, she led him through the halls, passing carvings of the great one's tentacles, now relics of a lost age. When she found the top of the tunnel leading down into the heart of Aslyd, the slave stopped.

"Sarui, you know you're forbidden from delving-"

She cut him off with a yank on his arm, pulling him along. "Nothing awaits now but an empty cavern. Isn't that right?" she asked the guards standing at either side of the descending staircase. They granted her uncertain nods, as if unsure whether they were still expected to stop her or obey. She marched through them.

Her own guards followed behind, glancing at each other with concern. Would their ruler punish them for allowing her deeper, or reprimand them for disobeying his daughter needlessly? They retrieved torches from the walls, illuminating the seemingly endless staircase ahead.

Descending deeper and deeper, delving far beneath the ziggurat, she followed the tunnel with step after step after step. Finally, as she reached a set of large stone doors at the very bottom of the tunnel, she commanded her guards to haul them open.

Inside, the gaping cavern beyond stretched into the consuming darkness. A deep silence sat in the black void before her, held back by flickering torchlight.

"This is what rested below us all this time? This is where the great one slumbered?" She stepped closer, mustering her courage. How many women had been locked away down here? How many screams had echoed off these ancient walls? How manymoans?

Curiosity had summoned her, and curiosity forced her closer. Through the darkness, she saw a massive mass ahead. The stench of ash and death grew with every step. Her guards stopped, offering quiet prayers.

As she moved closer, she glimpsed the tangled tentacles twisting through the mass before her. Torchlight flickered off the scorched surfaces of black tendrils, curled, frozen, as if they were shriveled statues. Ash poured between them, while the least burned appendages sat in limp heaps, rotting away.

Sarui crouched. Daring to touch a tentacle, she watched as it crumbled to black dust in her hand. "This is what remains of The Creator's mighty first creation? The great one? Nothing but ash?"

"Great Onaalag..." Thuron muttered. "What have we done?" he thought to himself, kneeling. The wreckage of a masterpiece lay before him, burned and desecrated. "Forgive me."

10th of Thriduin, 767 BVE.

Deep Jungle.

The constant yearning between Darmi's legs served only to distract her while her antennae twitched, searching for signs of danger as she crept through the jungle. With the carcass of her latest kill draped over her shoulder, she slowly made her way back to camp.

Having left the colossal tree behind, always moving, their temporary refuge came into view ahead. Tonight's shelter was a tree of their own. Far smaller than that of their victims, it was held above the ground by roots that had been exposed by extreme erosion. The tree's top nearly appeared symmetrical to its bottom, branches matching roots, save for the hollow space inside the mass of twisting roots.

Just as her need became unbearable, feeling her juices beginning to trickle down her thighs, she wiggled her way through the entrance. Inside, she discarded the slain creature with a relieved sigh.

"The west?" Aifa asked, as if speaking to empty air. Nestled in Vaecath's tentacles, she caressed the black appendages lovingly. "Northwest? How far?"

Darmi concealed the entrance with broken branches. Sunlight poured through the countless tiny holes dotting their walls of woven roots, yet the freshly cut flowers decorating the outside of their shelter concealed their scent.

"How many? Males too, Vaecath," Aifa asked. She shook her head a moment later. "No, that won't do. We'll need to target smaller tribes until our numbers grow."

The tiny fire pit sat unlit. Darmi crouched down, skewering the meat. She knew the holes would provide more than enough ventilation as she tried to spark a fire, yet the touch of something slimy against her rump captured her attention. The tingling sensation upon her skin only deepened her ache, turning to see Jynae-bal creeping behind her.

"Leave her alone, child," Aifa broke from her conversation. "She needs to prepare her kill before you may disturb her."

"Mistress..." Darmi felt his golden tentacles prod the back of her legs. "It's been hours."

Lying upon her back atop the black beast, a tentacle rested between Aifa's parted thighs, its tip caressing her midriff. The smallest hint of her pregnancy had begun to show as a subtle swell. "Claim your relief later. You know your responsibility."

Begrudgingly brushing the golden tentacles away, Darmi resumed her work with annoyance.

As Aifa watched the girl scowl as she tried once more to ignite the fire pit, she sighed, unable to keep the temptation from her lips. "Though, I suppose if you're going to sulk, you may complete your other responsibilities first." Moving the tentacle aside, she revealed her waiting sex.

She eyed her mistress with wide eyes. "A...another responsibility? Are you certain you still want to...with me?"

A casual shrug concealed Aifa's desperation. "You still have much to learn, though I'll suffer your inexperience."

The inviting smirk of her mistress lured Darmi closer. The memory of her taste rested upon her tongue, wanting more. An embarrassed blush darkened her cheeks, yet as her fingers found the wetness of her companion, she smiled.

Black tentacles coiled around Aifa's thighs, supporting her, holding them apart as she moaned. "Good girl. A little...deeper. Nearly...yes...right there."

Two fingers rubbed inside her mistress. Having learned to position her sharp fingernails to avoid the risk of harm, Darmi's other hand sought her own urges. Lips parting in a whimper, she gently teased her sensitive bud, aching at the sight of her companion.