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RWBY Monstergirls

Chapter 8: His Mighty Steed

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Pyrrha trotted heroically back into camp, her troops, human and centaur, whooping and cheering behind her. Victory always made them ebullient, and it had been an incredible one. Turning back to face her soldiers, she raised her spear and cheered them back, celebrating their bravery, their elan, their martial skill that had managed to rout Duke Winchester’s forces and proclaiming to them that, surely, with their strength and valor, it would only be a matter of time before Princess Rose was returned to her rightful throne!

The crowd roared, and Pyrrha’s heart soared to hear them. They’d earned their celebration, they’d fought as nobly as she had praised them, but as she retired from her men and went to the Lord’s tent, she knew the greater reason they had won was waiting inside.

Flinging open the tent's flaps, she had only been able to salute and say, “My Lord-” before she was suddenly pulled into a tight hug.

Jaune held her close, and Pyrrha struggled not to sigh in pleasure from the contact, made even better by the fact she knew that Jaune had, almost assuredly, saved so many lives today.

He wasn’t at the battle, for his own safety, of course. But what Jaune lacked as a warrior, he more than made up for as a tactician. The ambush they’d managed was only possible because of Jaune's brilliant use of scouts and misdirection. Pyrrha was an unmatched warrior, whether with the sword or bow or in a cavalry charge, but Jaune had an understanding of war that amazed her. This once-hopeless war now seemed to be eminently winnable, and all of her former doubts now seemed so foolish.

Kneeling down to put herself at something approximating his level (the challenges of being not only a centaur, but a warhorse centaur), Pyrrha returned the hug, adoring the way it felt as he exhaled against her chest. He worried for her so much, as much as she vowed to always return from battle and to never leave his side. And she would always return from battle—there was no foe too great, no enemy too daunting that she would not overcome so as to ensure that she returned, victorious, to her Lord.

She was his champion and his steed. Pyrrha refused to allow him to ride horses, except in the direst of circumstances, because it was her duty and honor to bear her Lord wherever he needed to be. Jaune never understood why she was so insistent, though he seemed to accept her lie that she trusted none but herself to ensure his safety.

The truth was that she adored the feeling of Jaune mounting her. His weight pressing into her body. The knowledge that she was useful to him, protecting him and delivering him where he needed to be. She adored their long rides together. But moreso… she loved the feeling of the saddle upon her. That act of simple submission, the acceptance that she was his steed, literally and fundamentally beneath him… it filled her with such a thrill. Pyrrha longed to wear a bit as well, so that all could see that he was her Rider, how meek and meager she was beneath him!

But Jaune… Jaune never thought of himself as Lordly as Pyrrha always saw him.

Right now, he was full of doubts.

“I... I only wish… that I could have been there with you...”

“Jaune...” she reassuringly stroked his hair, “You were there with me. In your battle plan, you did so much more for us here than you could have on the battlefield.”

“I never feel that I do enough,” he admitted, “All I do is sit in a tent and pore over a map, while you risk your lives out there with the men. It’s hard to receive their salutes when I know they do so much more than I do.”

Pyrrha refused to allow his self-doubt to go any further. “The men believe in your strategies—they’ve seen enough that your plans save their lives, and any one of them would follow any command you gave them, into any danger you could imagine!”

“But...” and he nervously swallowed, “You know the men, do they… respect me? If I was in a battle, would they think of me as… an asset? At all?”

This was something Pyrrha was certain would emerge eventually. Jaune’s self doubts had always been a presence for as long as she’d known him, since she was first sworn into service for the Arc family as a filly, but this campaign had drawn it to a new height. In the early campaign, Pyrrha had had to make the men follow Jaune’s orders through her own reputation and personal authority, and it had been a tough task, but by now, only a fool would fail to heed his brilliant insights. And she just wasn’t sure how to get him to realize that while his men cheered Pyrrha after every battle, there wasn’t a man in this army who didn’t know that Jaune was the reason they made it back to the camp at night.

But… there had been that idea she’d… gotten… from a rather pleasant dream...

“There is a simple solution to your problem,” she suggested.

Jaune took the bait. “Wha- what is it?” he asked, eagerly, “Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it!”

“Simple. Find the toughest soldier in the camp, challenge them to a fight. You win, everyone sees that you’re no pushover.”

His face crumpling in dismay, Jaune looked back down to the table. “I- I had a feeling it would be something like that. But I can’t win against anyone, much less,” he glanced back up to Pyrrha, “...you.”

But Pyrrha smirked. She had him exactly where she wanted him. “Perhaps,” she suggested, “you merely need to choose an alternative means of fighting...”

“What could that-”

With a finger to his lips, she shushed him. “You have advised me to victory so many times. Allow me to return the favor, my Lord.”

Jaune looked as though to protest, but wisdom won the day, and he merely nodded for Pyrrha to continue.

Smiling, Pyrrha leaned over the table, hoping that even with her heavy armor on, it gave Jaune a reminder of the generous cleavage concealed beneath the metal plate. “Trust me. I will show you how to defeat me tomorrow. Once you see it, you’ll see exactly what you need to do.”

“I won’t-” Jaune sputtered, “I won’t let you throw a fight! Not before the entire-”

“I’m not throwing the fight, Jaune,” Pyrrha simply explained, “You will see, as you’re so good at doing, the weakness in my strategy, the crack in my armor, and you’ll be able to take advantage of it… and defeat me. Just… trust me on this, Jaune. You’ll impress the men and even yourself if you just do what I say.”

Jaune sighed, but then… he smiled, and Pyrrha couldn’t help but smile too.

“Okay, Pyr," he said, his voice piercing her defenses like Cupid's arrow, "I trust you.”


“This is a bad idea.”

Pyrrha looked over her modesty divider to look at her armorer with a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

Nora sighed. “About Jaune challenging you to a fight. Everyone’s arguing about how hard you’re going to have to throw it to let him win, and that… that diminishes you, Pyrrha!”

“Well, then perhaps I simply shouldn’t throw it.”

“And kill Jaune? Pyrrha, I’m on your side, 100%, but I don’t want to launch a coup, and especially not against-”

“Oh, no, I have a feeling Jaune’s going to win this fight,” she said, getting the last of her “armor” in place.

Nora just stared incredulously. “...how?”

“You’ll see,” she laughed, “Let me know if Jaune’s reached the ring, if it’s time for my entrance.”

“Wha- what? Pyrrha, I haven’t even put your armor on, and-”

Pyrrha stepped forward from behind the divider and Nora’s jaw dropped.

Her “armor” provided no defensive benefits. Not just against weaponry, but against the prying eyes of men. It was little more than lingerie, her breasts more put on display than concealed, and Pyrrha loved the way Nora was staring at her, slack-jawed.

“I think Jaune’s going to surprise you,” she tittered, as she trotted forth to battle against her Lord.

As she stepped from her tent, the men cheered, only to quickly realize that she was dressed… like that. Their full-throated cheers died on their lips as they saw their invincible General looking more like a lady of the night. She had also spent time on her hair and coat, making them lustrous, with ribbons tied into her long red hair, and heavily perfuming herself, making sure Jaune saw, with no illusions, how he was to best her in this fight.

As the crowds parted and Pyrrha leapt over the fence into the ring the men had constructed, she saw Jaune’s jaw drop, just like Nora’s, as he beheld his General dressed like a doxy.

Pyrrha wasn’t going to give him a chance to ask questions, though. “My Lord Jaune Arc!” she cried out in challenge, “You have requested the right to face me in the field of honor! As I requested, we will fight unarmed, though,” and she licked her lips, “I see you came with your sword...”

Jaune glanced downwards, embarrassed to see his pants tented with his rather impressive erection. The men roared with laughter, but a few, particularly among the centaurs, whistled admiringly that a human was packing such meat below the belt.

“Let us begin!” Pyrrha shouted as she charged across the field towards Jaune.

Pyrrha loved the charge. The chance to gallop at full speed, to feel the wind whistle through her hair, to hear the muddy ground squish beneath her hooves, to feel her great momentum surge forth—she adored it more than anything. Well, there was one thing, but he was at the end of this charge. And he was ill prepared to match a full speed Pyrrha Nikos bearing down on her, so he resorted to what Pyrrha anticipated in his panic.

His hand shot out to protect his face, and he caught her square on a jiggling breast. Pyrrha moaned, half in performance, but quite a bit in honest surprise at how much better it felt in reality than in her imagination. It was enough to make her stumble, and, looking Jaune in the eye, she saw that, where his mind had shut down, libido took over.

With a sudden burst of strength, he tore her glorified strip of cloth off, allowing her breasts to bounce free. Pyrrha gasped, feeling his hands roughly maul her chest, and she was no longer capable of throwing the fight. No, she was powerless before his touch, all her strength dissolving as waves of pleasure emanated from every point his fingers sank into her supple chest. Her sudden stumble coupled with her momentum caused her to topple from Jaune's rough handling.

This was the ruthlessness Pyrrha had longed to see unleashed upon her, had fantasized about for the entire campaign. All of Jaune’s strategies, all of the time Pyrrha had spent with him as he planned how to utterly dismantle their foes… that Jaune was now upon her, breaking her down from “peerless General” to “helpless mare,” and Pyrrha adored it. Before the eyes of her entire army, before the men who cheered her and believed in her leadership and strength, she was revealing that she was little more than a lusty whore!

No, that she was Jaune’s whore. Everyone was seeing as he dominated her! It was so thrilling, so perfect! This was the man who made their victories possible, and he was taking his reward!

Forcing her down, Jaune spanked her hind as he turned her around and, lying in the mud, an animal before her Master, Pyrrha moaned as she, his captive, waited to be put to his Sword.

It wasn’t a long wait. Pyrrha squealed, adoring the way the cold mud clung to her hide, the way she slid forward from the force of his thrust, struggling to maintain her place, to let her Lord take her from behind, to ride her in a new way, in a way Pyrrha would insist he ride her daily. And Pyrrha was being rewarded in this. Rewarded for her patience, for her fidelity. Many men had sought her hand, human and centaur, but Pyrrha only had eyes for the man forcing her into the mud. He was so much more than some thuggish brute, even for his ruthless fury poured out upon her. Even as forceful as he was, he was precise, careful, even restrained. She was going wild with lust and desire, but Jaune was always in control—in control of himself and in control of her!

The men, she could hear, were cheering their Lord on, applauding his martial skill and proving his manliness to all of them. Pyrrha, the unconquerable general, had struck fear into the hearts of their foes, had smashed through all opponents that dared face them. But now, the men could see there was another side to Pyrrha. The woman who was conquered, a captive taken by arms, being forced to submit to a greater power! She relished her humiliation and degradation, because it was Jaune who was delivering it to her!

“T-take me!” she cried, “Take me like a whore, my Lord! Show the men how you mount your steed! How you win your glory!”

“I’ll show them,” he growled, “what a real man can do to you.”

“Y-yes! Yes! P-please, my Lord! Show them all that you’re a real man! Show them why I follow you! Why I’m-”

“Your Lord!” he bellowed, and Pyrrha screamed her first orgasm of the day.

She had a feeling it wouldn’t be her last.

Pyrrha gasped, feeling her pussy clench around his cock, feeling as Jaune revealed that he was a far more skillful duelist than even Pyrrha had ever assumed. He gave her no pause, no quarter, as her orgasm shook her to jelly. Having no more strength to remain upright, she collapsed, face first into the mud.

The SHLOP of the cold mud coating her skin, as she burned with her passion, made all her senses heighten all over again. It was incredible torment—her skin was so sensitive, she could feel everything, and the feel of the mud coating her, like a used-up draft horse, made Pyrrha even more aroused. She was a wretched thing now! A beast of the fields, a plowmare, though more to be plowed than to do anything useful.

And everyone could see her.

She looked up from mud, struggling to wipe her eyes clear, to see the jeering faces of her loyal soldiers and lieutenants. Yes, she thought, look at me. Look at what’s become of your General, who thought she could contest against her Lord. Look upon the girl fucked into total submission.

Another orgasm, another fall into the mud. Pyrrha giggled at how helpless and stupid she must look! She hoped her Lord enjoyed fucking this stupid animal, especially because her needy cunt could feel that he was building up to driving her totally wild, once he finally released inside her!

It wasn’t long now! Wasn’t long now at all! Pyrrha could feel his hips buck against her as Jaune unleashed himself all over again!

The feel of his hot cum flooding her sloppy pussy brought Pyrrha to a third climax. She wanted to roll in the mud like a dirty, filthy animal, but she was an obedient mare, and knew that she had been vanquished: she had to submit to her Lord now.

Panting and gasping, she turned to Jaune, loving the feel of the mud slopping off her tits as she raised herself back on her wobbly feet. “Well,” she giggled, “I submit to you, my Lord, and your superior strength in the ring of honor.”

Jaune, apparently only just realizing what had happened, just gawked at Pyrrha worldlessly.

“My Lord,” she began again, “you have bested me. You may take me as your prize if you so desire, though I suppose, you already have.”

Silence.

Finally, Jaune blinked, seeming to have regained control of his faculties. Nervously covering his genitals (and averting his eyes from Pyrrha’s exposed, mud-covered breasts), he looked up to her and stammered, “Would- would you-” he swallowed, nervously, “Would you accompany me to my tent, General? We can… clean you off, and… discuss things?”

Paying no heed to the hooting of the men as they read through the innuendo, Pyrrha smiled warmly at her beloved Jaune. “Lead the way, my Lord,” she said with a bow, “Your captive will follow wherever you lead her. On the battlefield… or in the bedroom,” she added with a flutter of her eyelashes that made Jaune almost choke.

But taking her Lord’s hand in hers, she followed him back to the tent, where she knew he would gently and lovingly clean the mud from her, would brush her hair and coat, and… and see about how many more orgasms she had coming for her in a day.

Notes:

Thanks to Renarde for feedback for this chapter!

And there's a link right below here, but check out Fresh_Squeezed_Citrus's "A Practical, and Pleasurable, Application of Summoning Monstergirls," a monstergirl fic in a fantasy setting! Check it out!