In the cold, moonlit night, the Tarkatan camp lay sprawled across the barren landscape of Outworld, a chaotic sprawl of tents and fires. Each flame danced and crackled, casting flickering shadows on the canvas homes that contained the fearsome beasts who served as the empire's most lethal soldiers. Amongst the chaos, one tent stood taller than the rest, adorned with the grisly trophies of many battles. 

Inside the tent sang the tune of passion and animalistic vigor. Lewd silhouettes moved across the tent illuminated by camp-fire. 

Baraka pulled Sindel's hair back, forcing the Empress' face up to his. His breath was hot against her neck as he whispered, "You are mine tonight, Empress." Sindel's pulse quickened, and she allowed herself a small, knowing smile. 

"And what of tomorrow?" she murmured, her voice a seductive purr that seemed to resonate through the very fabric of the tent.

The Chieftain's grin widened, revealing his sharp fangs. "Tomorrow," he said, "the Tarkata will serve you once more." With that, he tore the last vestiges of her queenly garb, exposing her creamy silky flesh to his hungry gaze. Their bodies melded together in a lustful dance that left no room for gentleness.

Sindel's silky skin shimmered in the moonlight, while Baraka's muscular frame rippled like a living sculpture. His rough hands explored her curves, leaving trails of heat in their wake. She was all muscle and thick curves. A goddess-like physique that the Tarkatan general had hungered for for decades. After Sindel had reclaimed dominion of Outworld, having betrayed both allies and servants in her conquest, she understood that to consolidate her rule meant having the loyalty of the Tarkatan armies. 

She understood the only way to placate and sow peace with the warrior tribe was to submit to their chieftain. Sindel had always loathed the Tarkatan species, seeing them as little more than dogs-of-war to be used and discarded. But as she laid beneath Baraka's massive form, she could feel the power inside of him. So raw and primal, it was enticing. It was a power she craved, one that could bolster her rule. 

Baraka's clawed hands slid down her back, sending shivers down her spine, and gripped her hips, pulling her closer. His erection, a testament to his desire, pressed against her, and she could feel the heat of his lust like a brand against her thigh. She wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him in, accepting his challenge.

Their union was a fierce, animalistic affair, a battle of wills and flesh. Sindel's nails dug into Baraka's broad back, drawing blood that only served to inflame his passion further. His teeth grazed her neck, nipping and biting without breaking the skin, a promise of the pain that could come if she did not submit.

As he claimed her over and over, Sindel's composure shattered into shrieks of pleasure so loud the camp shook. His girth was so hard and unyielding it hit her core with each hard thrust causing her to unravel into hysteria. As their climaxes approached, she threw her head back, arching her body into his, and screamed out her pleasure into the night, the sound echoing across the camp like a war cry. The warmth of his seed flooded her womb as he held her tight, unwilling to release her until his breeding sacks had run dry. 

Sweaty and spent, their bodies remained entwined in a mess of cum and desire, Sindel looked into Baraka's eyes. In that moment, she knew she had made a powerful ally... or perhaps something more. Time would tell. 

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By Smokescreen117