Last Stand of the War Priestess

by Amanda Clover

  “Um. Y-yes. The monsters-“

  “Hush,” she breathed, and that floral scent swirled around Desera, washing away her worries. “Just relax. It’s all fine now.”

  Desera smiled, for a moment forgetting the horrors of the last few weeks. It was so easy to relax with that scent. With the voice of the lovely woman. “Th-thank you…”

  “Oh but you must be so hot in those clothes. And so uncomfortable. Here. Let us help with that.”

  “Oh… I… I dunno…” Desera murmured, even as Cephara and the brown haired woman dexterously stripped the soldier of her armour and clothes. Desera sighed as the fabric fell away, leaving her naked. She did feel better. That armour had always been so uncomfortable and tight. She smiled blissfully.

  “Now,” Cephara murmured, drawing Desera closer. “Tell me, what brings you to my garden?”

  “Oh,” Desera murmured, stepping over the lip of the plant, sighing as her foot slid into that sweet, sticky nectar. “I… I was getting firewood for my… my companions. We were lost after an attack…”

  “How dreadful. You poor creature,” Cephara interrupted smoothly, her arms twining around Desera, nestling the slim woman against her buxom green curves. “Poor, poor thing. Life has been so hard for you.”

  “Mmm. It has,” Desera breathed, her chin nestling atop those generous orbs, her lids lowering as she relaxed, bathed in the scent of the pitcher’s pollen, up to her hips in the sweet, sticky nectar within the flower.

  “But it doesn’t have to be,” Cephara breathed, her hands wandering over Desera’s body, soothing away the aches of her journey. The worries of her mind.

  “Mmm. No?” Desera murmured, staring into the green woman’s eyes.

  “Oh no. You don’t need to worry any more. You don’t need to fight. You just need to relax. Be at ease.” Cephara leaned closer, her lips a vivid hue of red. “Just… sink into my eyes…”

  Desera nodded vaguely, staring into those sparkling orbs. She felt something else, then. A touch from more than the hands rubbing her. She glanced down lazily, finding twisting vines rising out of the nectar washed pool, running up her slim thighs, stroking her tender flesh.

  Dimly, Desera realized she should be alarmed. But it was so hard to work up the energy for it. So much easier to just relax. To just let what happened… happened.

  “Good girl,” Cephara breathed, her smile sending joy spinning through Desera, the plant woman’s her hands running up the young soldier’s sides, stroking her shoulders, gently resting on the sides of Desera’s head. She tilted back the soldier’s face, and Desera sighed happily as she found herself staring once more into those shining eyes.

  “Such a gooood girl. Just relax. Just… submit…”

  “Yes,” Desera moaned softly. “Submit…. Nnn…” She barely whimpered as she felt the vines slide into her pussy, fill her ass. She moaned softly as the roots gently began to fuck her. Her knees gave way, and Cephara eased the soldier down, deeper into the pool of sweet, thick nectar. Desera found herself looking up, Cephara’s radiant face framed by the moonlight. The moonlight which was slowly growing dim as the lip of the pitcher began to close, trapping them in a soothing gloom.

  “Just relax,” Cephara said again, stroking her, teasing her, easing her more and more into the sloshing nectar. “Be a good girl. Forget about your worries. Forget about the world outside. Just look into my eyes. Just breathe deep. Just let it all go. Just… be… mine…”

  Desera moaned softly. Her thoughts were slow. Sluggish. Not even really there. Her long lashes beat as her eyelids slid lower. As a soft whimper of her climax escaped her, as more of that sweet nectar washed into her pussy, into her ass, lubing her for the vines that continued to slowly fuck her. Leisurely pleasure her.

  “Mine,” Cephara breathed.

  “Yours,” Desera moaned.

  Cephara smiled. Such a radiant smile. Such a wonderful, pure, consuming smile. “Good girl,” the plant woman breathed.

  Then Desera’s face was pressed against a flawless breast. Her lips kissed a dark nipple, and her mouth was drowning, drowning, drowning in a flood of sweet nectar. Her mind melting away with bliss. Her body surrendering totally to the plant woman.

  Desera smiled, finally at ease, and her eyes slid shut.

  Camp

  Safira stood at the entrance of the cave, her grip tightening and loosening on her hammer as she looked out over the darkness and the trees. The low glow of the fire within the cave flickered against her back, enticing her with its promise of warmth and rest. But she stood facing the cold, watching. Waiting.

  “She’s gone.”

  Safira glanced back as Camilla walked up behind her. The younger woman looked out at the forest and grimaced. “She’d have come back by now if she knew the way. She either ran off, or was grabbed by a monster. There’s nothing you can do.”

  Safira frowned. Her hand tightened on her hammer’s haft. “I should have gone with her.”

  “And done what? She left. You go out there, and odds are good you’ll get snatched by whatever is waiting too. We need to get to Tatarod. I’m not…” Camilla grimaced, sighed. She ran a hand through her short cropped hair. “I… Look. I won’t kid myself. If we come across anything bigger than a fucking gertling, we’re screwed. We need you.”

  Safira turned to face the young soldier. “You know little of war, do you?”

  Camilla flushed in the dark. “I… No. No I don’t. I never wanted to be a soldier. I never wanted to be a part of all this… this monster crap.”

  “And yet you are,” Safira noted.

  “Not like I had a choice.”

  Safira arched a brow. “What do you mean?”

  “I was conscripted. I didn’t have a choice in the matter.” Camilla wrapped her arms around herself, scowling in the dark. “I didn’t want any of this. I didn’t want to fight. To die for some idiot emperor. Fuck him, I say. Fuck them all. I didn’t… I just don’t want to die.”

  Safira eyed the coarse tongued young woman thoughtfully. At length, she nodded. “Go get some sleep. We leave at first light.”

  “Right. But uh… Don’t you need to rest?”

  Safira smiled ruefully. “My god will bear my exhaustion for a time. But not you. Rest. I’ll keep watch.”

  Camilla hesitated. She opened her mouth to say something, then shut it. “I… thanks,” she said awkwardly. “I’ll just… um… go get some sleep then.”

  Safira nodded, and the young soldier crept back into the cave and towards the glow of the firelight. Safira watched her until the smaller woman was wrapped in the warmth of a blanket, then turned once more towards the night. She would wait until morning, the priestess resolved, her hands tightening on her hammer. And then, they would have to move on.

  The cold brushed against her as the firelight burned low.

  Fallen Faith

  Anora sighed, helping the sobbing Marianne along.

  “Oh gods, how could this all happen to me,” the noblewoman moaned.

  “Hush, Marianne,” Anora said softly. “Hush.”

  “We’re doomed aren’t we? We’re all doomed.”

  “Quiet back there!” Camilla snapped, glaring at the pair trailing behind them. “Or did you forget where we are?”

  “How could I?” Marianne moaned. A thorny branch caught her gown and she yanked, ripping the once rich fabric even more. Sniffling, she shook her head and trudged along.

  “It’s okay, Marianne,” the young priestess soothed. “It’s going to be okay.”

  But her words rang hollow even to her, echoing among the looming trees and suffocating closeness of the forest. The canopy was so thick barely a hint of light made it through. It was silent around them. The air taut and tense with unseen menace and the watching eyes of beasts. They struggled down an overgrown hunting trail Lasha alone knew who had cut or what they had stalked. And Anora couldn’t shake the feeling it was they who were being hunted.

  She sighed, clutching the heavy platinum am
ulet of the goddess round her neck. The metal was cool and heavy, its presence a measure of comfort, but that was little. If only she could commune with her goddess. She had meant to the last few nights, but by the end of their treks she’d been too exhausted to do more than eat and sleep. She wasn’t used to such physical exertions. Gods how she missed the temple. How she missed the certainty and peace of serving in those hallowed halls. Worship had always calmed her. Filled her with certainty.

  “Can’t we stop?” Marianne moaned. “Please. I need a break. I can’t go on like this.”

  The war priestess, Safira, glanced back. Anora hunched up a little under the stern woman’s eyes. It was safe to say she was intimidated by the powerful woman. And her… revealing garb didn’t help things much.

  “There’s a clearing up ahead,” Camilla noted.

  Safira frowned but nodded. “Very well. We’ll stop to rest there.”

  Anora hid her sigh of relief as they pushed further. The clearing opened up before them, a shapeless mess of rotting logs and overgrowth. Nonetheless, Anora collapsed atop one with a sigh of relief, soon joined by Marianne.

  “We’re doomed, aren’t we?” Marianne moaned.

  “We are not,” Safira said firmly. “Once we reach Tatarod we will find shelter. The city hasn’t fallen. In fact, I believe it is under the protection of the empress.”

  “Like that will stop the Duke,” Marianne said. She shook her head. “We’re all doomed. They’re going to catch us and turn us into breeding sluts. I know it.” Muttering to herself, Marianne reached into her gown and pulled out a flask. Safira grimaced in disgust as the noblewoman unscrewed the top and took a swig. Anora’s nose twitched at the too sweet scent of wine.

  “Are you drunk?” Camilla asked incredulously.

  “Why shouldn’t I be?” Marianne asked acidly. “We’re alone out in these woods and monsters are all around us. When would be a better time to get drunk, I ask you? Ha!” She laughed bitterly. “As if this isn’t bad enough. Oh I knew I should have stayed home. I never should have come with the army. But oh no. My husband needed me. He always needs me. And what do I have to show for it? Stumbling through the forest. My dresses ruined. My husband dead and gertlings just waiting to rape me and turn me into their broodmother. It’s not fair,” she said. She took another swig, gasping as the liquor burned down her throat. “We should just surrender to the monsters,” Marianne said bitterly. “Maybe we’ll be treated fairly.”

  “Are you joking?” Camilla asked incredulously. “They won’t care if you give up. We’re just meat to them!”

  “How do you know?” Marianne said, her dander up, wine lending her courage. “Maybe they treat peasants like that, but I am of noble blood.”

  “Like they care.”

  “Not for you. Some ill begotten daughter of the streets.”

  Camilla flushed. “You…”

  “Enough!” Safira snapped, Anora cringing under the sharpness of the priestess’s tone. “I’m going to patrol the area,” Safira said in disgust. “Stay here.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Camilla said with a look at the noblewoman.

  The two warrior women rose and shoved into the forest around them. Anora watched them go, fingering her amulet. Marianne sniffled and nursed her drink. When the sound of the pair had faded, Anora glanced at Marianne. “I’m… I’m going to step away for a moment. To pray.”

  Marianne didn’t seem to hear her, lost in her own miseries. Anora sighed and rose, leaving the noble alone as she slipped into the woods.

  She fingered her amulet uncertainly as she looked about for a likely space. Gods, the woods were so dense. She was considering heading back when she finally found a likely spot. A small glade, a break in the foliage allowing a thin ray of meagre sunlight in offered an ideal place. A stone sat in the center of the clearing, perfect for her purposes.

  Anora carefully entered the clearing and took a seat before the stone. Removing her amulet, she placed it before her on the rock. Another glance around assured her she was alone and, with a soft sigh, she opened the front of her robes, baring her body to the open air. She wore no bra, revealing the ample curves of her breasts, her nipples tingling against the coolness of the forest.

  Anora tilted back her head, spreading her arms as she looking into the heavens. “Oh goddess,” she murmured. “Hear my prayers. Send your daughter courage in her time of need and strength for the trials ahead. Give me the wisdom to face the future, and the will to see it through.”

  Anora sighed as she said the last words, a warmth slowly suffusing her with the goddess’s blessing. Her soul sang as she was cradled in the bosom of the goddess’s love.

  And so she never heard the rustle of the branches. Never saw the flash of crimson from among the trees. Something landed on her back, and a sharp pain stabbed her shapely teats.

  “Ah!” she gasped, her connection with the goddess broken. She tried to jump to her feet but a wave of feverish heat sent her instead to her hands and knees with a ragged moan.

  “There we go.”

  Trembling, she glanced back, and her eyes widened in horror. Perched atop her shoulder was a stunted creature like a gertling. Only instead of green, his skin was a dirty red. Dark wings sprouted from his back and a pair of stumpy horns from his brow. The imp grinned, showing a row of sharp, jagged teeth.

  Anora sucked in a breath of horror, and as she did inhaled a thick, pungent scent that sent a shock of warmth racing through her, tingling in her naked breasts and quim. Her eyes wandered lower and were arrested by the massive shape of the imp’s cock, jutting from his waist almost comically in proportion to his tiny size.

  “Hey there pretty. How you doing?” the demon said. Anora gasped as the creature flicked his tail, the barbed stinger at the tip pulling from her breast.

  “Nnn!” Anora whimpered. “D-demon!”

  “You got it honey,” the stunted creature cackled.

  “D-demon! By the goddess I b-banish-“

  “Sure you wanna do that?” the imp said, reaching down and grasping her ripe breast. Anora was unprepared for the intensity of the sensation that followed. As his claws sank into her luscious teat a wave of infernal lust hit her like a lash. Her prayer stumbled, transforming into a heated moan. “Hmmm. Because that doesn’t sound like a woman who wants to banish me.”

  Anora whimpered as the imp cruelly played with her unbearably sensitive breasts. Her nipples were hard nubs of needy pleasure, one which the imp was all too happy to sate as his fingers pinched and rubbed the tingling points.

  “Nnn-oooo!” Anora moaned. Her eyes had grown bleary, but she managed to focus on the demon’s tail, flicking behind him, and the stinger at its tip, still leaking a viscous substance.

  “P-poison,” Anora gasped.

  “You got it sweet cheeks. My own special brew. Like nothing you’ve seen before, I bet. And I bet I know a few more things you’ve never dreamed,” the demon cackled, taking his hand from her teat and hefting his crimson cock. He grinned. “How’s about it? Wanna taste?”

  He pushed his shaft against her cheek, his pre leaving a long, burning streak along her face. Anora shuddered at the urge in her to open her mouth and take that demonic shaft between her soft lips. For a moment, disgust defeated the demonic lust, and she managed to shove the creature off her shoulder.

  “Ho ho!” the imp cackled, fluttering away from her and onto the rock. “Playing hard to get, eh?”

  “M-monster!” Anora gasped, drawing back from the creature. Even as every inch of her begged her to go nearer. “I would never-“

  “That was then. This is now. And I bet now all you want is to feel this thick cock fucking your slutty brains out. Eh?” the imp grinned, hefting his manhood and giving it too playful strokes.

  Anora shuddered at the imp’s lurid display. But more. She found herself leaning towards the creature, her head pounding with her racing pulse. The imp grinned at her, his hand stroking his cock faster. Anora’s mouth was dry as she watched
pre leak from his cock. Her cunt aching to be filled. Her breasts tingled to be touched. Stroked.

  Used.

  She realized she’d drawn closer again to the demon. Her lips trembled as she inhaled again the potent musk of the creature. “N-no. You… you shan’t have me.”

  “Yeah? Let’s see if we can change your mind,” the imp grinned, and it was only then that Anora realized that she had lost track of his tail.

  She felt again that sharp pain in her other breasts. She cried out, a sound of despair, descending to a ragged moan as she jerked back, yanking the stinger out of her. She tried to get to her feet but her legs grew watery and with a cry she fell to the ground.

  “Oh now there’s a good look for you!” the imp cackled at the priestess, her ass raised in the air, robes hiked up to bare her panty clad bottom. She only managed a weak moan, her body blazing with the insidious lust.

  She raised her head as the demon fluttered before her, grinning cruelly. Immediately her eyes went to his thick cock, jutting from between his legs. He gave a playful thrust.

  “C’mon. Give it a taste. You know you want to.”

  Anora wanted to deny it. But she couldn’t. His musk rolled over her, scattering her thoughts. Her body burned, her blood pounding in her ears as she stared at his cock, the tip drooling its pungent pre, dripping like foul honey onto the grass. Her hands tightened in the earth. Trying to fight it. Trying to resist it. Trying, even as she leaned forward. Even as her mouth opened. Even as she took his cock between her soft, plush lips.

  “Mnnn,” she moaned, her lashes fluttering as the taste of the demon’s cock spilled onto her tongue. She slid forward, his cock filling her lips, his thick, foul taste coating her mouth. Yet even as she felt the hot surge of disgust, she couldn’t help drawing back and pushing forward, taking the imp’s putrid cock to the very root.