Changes too quick to handle

Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!

The rhythmic sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the room. It was a space that had transitioned from gaudy opulence to a grassland aesthetic, adorned with an abundance of pillows, copper and golden vases etched with horse motifs, and silken drapes. In the center stood a slim, dark-skinned man with intricate markings covering his rippling muscles, thrusting into an olive-skinned woman similarly marked. She was bent over the bed, moaning as she received him from behind.

Maria, bent over the bed, was my favorite—not just for her beauty but for her mind. Around us lay three other women, loyal and transformed like Maria. Ayana, once a freckled redhead, now had black, curly hair. Her pale skin gleamed, and her sharper nails hinted at the changes she had undergone. Taller and fuller than before, she kissed my neck as I focused on Maria. My member, slick with Maria's fluids, pulsed with intent—I would finish inside her.

The other women played their roles in the scene. One, Riena, lay on her back as Maria's tongue sporadically flicked over her pussy, though Maria's focus faltered with each of my thrusts. Riena, dark-skinned and muscular, had grown darker in tone. Her nails, height, and thickness had all changed, though her black hair remained the same. The two blondes among them had not changed much, but I paid them no mind. My attention was on Maria, whose moans turned frantic as I quickened my pace.

I gripped Maria's waist with one hand and her ass with the other, pulling her closer as I pounded into her. Her pussy clenched tighter around me, and the sensations of the bodies around me fueled my final, forceful climax. Maria threw her ass back against me with a loud moan, and I groaned as I emptied myself inside her. Spent, Maria collapsed forward like a puppet with its strings cut, her face landing on Riena's crotch. Riena, with a predatory gleam in her eyes, gently pushed Maria aside to reveal my still-throbbing, glistening cock.

Riena crawled toward me, wrapping her dark hands around my neck and her legs around my waist. Slowly, she lowered herself onto my member, which, though losing its hardness, rose again as if summoned by an unnatural call. I wasn't one to tire easily, but the Great Stallion's blessing gave me endurance that surpassed mortal limits. Until my chosen mares bore my heirs, my body was like that of a stallion—ready to breed.

From a sitting position, I began thrusting into Riena's slick warmth, her ass rippling with every movement. My hands spread her cheeks, revealing her tight little asshole, which only deepened my desire. Her moans filled the room as I drove harder into her, claiming her entirely. I kissed her deeply, prolonging the lustful haze, before breaking away to latch onto one of her nipples. The sensation sent her into louder moans, and the wet sounds of flesh meeting flesh grew more frantic.

Riena's sharp nails dug into my back as I laid her on her back, her legs wrapped tightly around me. I thrust harder, each motion a declaration of intent. Her guttural scream filled the room as her insides clenched and quivered around me, and I followed with my own climax, spilling into her depths. If nature willed it, I would leave this palace with five heirs.

I withdrew, leaving her limp body on the bed. Glancing at the remaining women, I spoke, "I'm tired for now. Give me a moment." Naked and sweaty, I stepped off the bed, my mind turning to the blonde merchant who had undoubtedly spread word of my intent to attack the Free Cities—a curious name for a group of slavers.

The Mega Workshop

The heat was oppressive, and the cacophony of hammers striking metal filled the air. This city was always destined to become a weapons factory. The surrounding forests provided timber for the construction of chariots, while nearby mines yielded the steel needed for arrows, spears, arakhs, and other weapons. Thousands of slaves toiled under the watchful eyes of craftsmen and war engineers, creating siege weapons I barely understood but knew would be essential.

Chariots were being assembled in another section of the workshop. Sawdust and wood chips littered the floor as workers positioned planks and wheels. In the leatherworking area, hides were layered with quilted fabric and grass mats. While the Dothraki traditionally disdained armor, they were beginning to incorporate rib bones and scales as trophies. My own armor, reinforced with scales from an armadillo-like creature, reflected this subtle evolution.

The pyramid of skulls loomed ominously in the square, its base now home to the three dragon eggs. Once the size of ostrich eggs, they had grown to the size of watermelons. Patterns had emerged on their surfaces: cream-white splotches on one, green streaks on another, and twin red stripes on the largest. The silver-haired siblings guarded them—Daenerys with maternal devotion, her injured brother still relying on slaves marked with my symbols to care for him.

Letters flooded in from across the region. Norvos surrendered unconditionally, requesting an audience. Other cities sent gold, noblewomen, or declarations of war. Zealots accused me of holding Lightbringer's hostages, their failed assaults only adding to the skull pyramid. The red comet that heralded the return of magic had also brought darkness. My horde had changed, and so had I.

Overlooking the laboring slaves, I considered the future. My ambitions stretched beyond the great plains and Free Cities. With every letter and every skull added to the pyramid, my path became clearer. The horde would march, unstoppable, claiming not just lands but the very fabric of this world. The Great Stallion's blessing marked me as a harbinger of conquest—and nothing would stand in my way.