Knights of the Holy Mother – 2 [❤️❤️❤️]

Many of your brothers and sisters can claim they’re the sexiest. Or the most talented in magic, or illusions, or what-the-fuck ever. But when it comes to raw, bone-crushing power, it’s not even a competition. You are the hardest motherfucker in Haven.

You are Halloween.

And while you love how blood and cum feels when it splatters on your bare skin, you’re wandering around Greenbrook in a set of conjured armor. So you don’t offend the mortal’s delicate sensibilities. Can’t have an obvious demon wandering about.

Even if they did summon some weird looking imps to fight for them.

Whatever. At least you got to scratch that ‘fuck shit up’ itch. You’re still a bit peeved that December stole your trophy, even if he left your tight pussy happy-sore. You lift the roof of another collapsed building. No bodies this time.

A small group of goblins are following you. Survivors you’ve dug up. You pointed them in the direction of the only building left, but they kept close to you. Well, relatively. The chickenshits are hanging back, whispering about your armor. They shrink away when December zooms up to you but relax when they realize he isn’t a demon.

Or doesn’t look like one.

“Still checking this side of the village?” His rumbling chuckle would make you horny if you didn’t have to babysit these green midgets. “You’re so slow. I’ve already checked ahead. No more survivors.”

You grunt and head back to the village center. When the goblins see those following you, they rush over to each other and hug. They’re leaking from the eyes, gross. You’d think they’re crying, but they’re clearly not cumming. Maybe mortals cry for more than sexual pleasure?

Fucking weirdos.

They’re having some stupid heart-to-hearts and you’re over here, kicking rocks. You wanted to capture the demon and have his beast cock ravage you right in front of the goblins. The look on their faces would have almost been worth Quinn’s disappointment.

Almost.

Something the guy said gets your attention. He was a captain in an army. Does that mean there’s more? Maybe if you backtrack the demon’s path of destruction, you’ll be able to capture a pet. You lick your lips. That’d be nice.

While the others are bathing in the goblins’ adoration, you follow the demon’s trail of destruction. They left a big path. You’re making some good distance when a puff of smoke explodes in front of you.

Saturday appears in his dorky ninja pose. You walk past him.

“Halloween, you can’t go off on your own. We work together, believe it!”

You want him to shut up already, but he’s slippery. You’ll punch him and he’ll have replaced himself with a log, or a rock, or one of your favorite dildos. The jackass can be real sneaky, if he weren’t following some weird ninja code.

He puffs in front of you again.

“Quinn liked the errant knights angle, she’s going to send us some second genners to act as squires.”

“Don’t care, I want to find more of those demons.”

“Lady Quinn agrees.” You stop and he keeps talking. “She wants to capture some living ones.”

Perfect. You’ll get your pet, so long as you catch a few extra. The thought gives you strength as you continue on the path, casually pushing aside a fallen tree to find…a bunch of dudes in armor staring at you.

Shit, are these the real deal?

They stare at you with mixed expressions of fear and anger. The dwarf at the head is more curious than scared. The shithead is two inches taller than you, horns included. This fills you with rage. They tense and reach for their weapons.

You’re about to lift your weapon when Saturday jumps in front of you and introduces himself.

“Greeting, fellow knights!” He bows regally. “I am Saturday, knight of the Holy Mother. We’ve defeated a warband of demons and are tracking where they came from. Seeing you, is it safe to assume that you’ve done the same on your end?”

Gotta give the ninja credit, he knows how to talk to people. They lower their weapons and ease up slightly.

<See?> He tells you telepathically. <Talk-no-jutsu works. Try it sometime.>

Fuck no. You’re either going to bust some nuts or get some nuts busted in you.

The leader, the muscular dwarf, is in a set of silvery armor with a fancy helm. The war hammer he’s wielding can crush a skull easily. He steps forward and introduces himself as ‘Bjorn Goodhammer, leader of the Silverfist Order, right hand of the Patriarch of the blah blah blah… It’s a good thing Saturday is here, you can’t stand all this pomp and circumstance.

They get to talking about stuff as you pace around restlessly. Bjorn is direct, which you weren’t expecting from someone from such a long list of titles. Better yet, he’s humble and honest. Which is great, because he lets slip something that makes you pause. He mentions how they ran into a few other warbands originally from some sort of massive ritual site, which they found because they detected the summoning.

“We were following the path this warband left behind and detected a series of summonings. Some weak ones, some strong ones.” Just as he finishes talking, a silver bell on his belt jingles a few more times. He scowls and holds it up. “There it goes again. More of them.”

It’s a good thing you’re wearing a helm, because you’d making a weird expression. That would be the younger demons Quinn just sent your way. Saturday’s a pro, though. He sends a telepathic message warning the demons in the village. At the same time, he answers Bjorn’s concerns.

“Me, Halloween, and the rest of our order found some demons lingering around what was left of Greenbrook.” Saturday’s wings drooped sadly. Damn, he’s good. “They were using what was left of the population to summon more demons. We stopped the ones we found, but there may still be some stragglers.”

“Then we best hurry.”

Bjorn motions for Saturday to lead the way. The knights still seem wary of you. Saturday nods and takes to the air, and you chase after him. You’re surprised when you realize the mortals can keep up with you in all their heavy armor. Magic comes off their bodies in quick pulses, maybe that has something to do with it. Bjorn matches your pace and looks at you with interest.

What is he looking at you for? You’re not even in your sexy clothes. And Saturday is too busy telepathically communicating with the others for him to talk to this fragile morty. You growl at him from under your helm and pick up speed.

Somehow, the fucker keeps up with you. Annoying little shit.

When you make it to Greenbrook, there’s a lot less goblins. It’s mostly snotty little brats and a good dozen adults. None of the fighters or the injured. The destroyed buildings, the mass grave not too far away, and the demon bodies laying all over the place paint a pathetic scene.

The knights slow to a stop and square up to your siblings. There’re a few new faces: two kobolds, an elf, and two humans.

Burdock the snarling kobold is swinging around a sexy greataxe, but quiets down with a whimper when he sees you. Iris the elf is looking at her elder demons with worshipping eyes. Nightshade is the other kobold, far sleeker than her incubus counterpart. She’s a stealthy little cunt. Plum and Spruce are holding hands like a pair of stupid lovebirds…but hey, where’s April?

You wanted to sodomize the femboy when you guys found a quiet spot. You had your favorite strap-on picked out and everything! Your mood immediately sours.

The knights square up to your kin. You’re waiting for them to strike first, eager to bash some heads in. But no, they just introduce themselves like a bunch of schlubs. You scowl and wander off.

The Silver dipshits set up camp to stay for a while. They offer care and aid to the goblins, but both groups of mortals don’t seem to be that close. Something about the knights suspecting them of summoning demons and the goblins not trusting the knights not to slaughter them if they make the wrong move.

You just wish they’d kill each other and be done with it.

The knights burn the demon’s bodies and perform a bunch of stupid sparkly magic to see if any summonings were done nearby. Which there were, but they couldn’t link it to anyone. Fuck, you hope April’s not having more fun than you.

You’re about to go off in the woods and find something to kill or rape when you see your younger siblings setting up tents. It’s only now that you notice they came with supplies. One big tent for the younger ones, three smaller ones for the leaders to share. The small ones are still pretty big. They come with sight and sound blocking enchantments. Once the ‘squires’ finish putting them up and lighting the campfire, they make their coupling arrangements.

Nightshade sneaks into Saturday’s tent and they immediately hit it off. Plum and Spruce almost forget to close their tent when they go into the squire tent to fuck each other’s brains out. The dumbass knights don’t even realize your ninja leader is fucking a furry, their focus mostly on the goblin survivors than your group.

Except Bjorn, who’s keeping a close eye on you. You leer at him from under your conjured helmet, and the fuckface slinks off.

Not like there’s anything interesting to see in your camp. Any who spare a glance at the tents only see boring, PG shadow projections. Iris and Emancipation look over the lame goblin survivors, wrapping up their boo-boos in bandages. March is perched in a nearby tree. She’s supposed to keep watch, but her eyes are trained on Emancipation, practically glaring at any goblin who gets too close to him. Burdock tends the fire, December nurses a huge mug of milk.

You hang between the tents to siphon off the residual DESIRE. Eventually, you get bored of scraps. You manifest a shadow dildo to hammer into your pussy inside your armor as you stare at Burdock and December, but that doesn’t scratch your itch.

You want some real fucking cock.

You stride over to Burdock and stand over him. Well, next to him. Even sitting down, the fucker has the damn gall to be taller. You snap your fingers to get his attention. He looks at you and whimpers, his ears pulling back as he follows you back to your tent.

You open the tent flap and push him inside, relishing the tremble in his steps. You close the flaps behind you, your grin fully apparent as your armor evaporates off you. Burdock whimpers, but his fantastic dog cock is already twitching with anticipation when his clothes fade away.

Look at this beast of a man. Broad shoulders, muscular body under a thick layer of gray fur, huge paws and thick claws…he’s got a great body. And more: his fuzzy, baseball-sized nuts hang under his fourteen-inch red rocket, with a knot that’s just waiting to pop into you.

You tackle him to the ground. He struggles to get up as you straddle him, but you just keep him down with one hand.

He looks at you with fear and lust. You line up your gushing fuckhole over the tip of his fat cock. You lower yourself on him slowly, your fuck-mad smile growing larger as his dick spreads your tight cunt apart. You’re low enough that your clit is brushing against his thick knot.

You lick your lips, enjoying the ten inches inside you, the hot flesh pulsating with Burdock’s heartbeat. You hop your body in small movements, splashes of your cum drowning your fucktoy’s crotch, every hop slamming your pussy lips harder into the knot. The pleasure is enough to make a lesser slut go mad.

Not you. You lean forwards to lick Burdock’s face. He’s too tall.

“Get closer.” You demand.

Burdock leans forwards and your smile returns. You lick his hairy chest, his fang-filled snout, your sharp teeth only barely grazing his flesh. His heart races faster, cock thrumming inside your cunt like a gigawatt vibrator. Your clit smushes against his swelling knot and you raise your butt higher than before, your foot moving to lean dangerously by the kobold’s fat balls.

Then slam down, your hungry pussy swallowing the four-inch knot with a glorious pop. Your eyes roll back as your tongue whips about madly, DESIRE rushing through you with the delicious spice of fear.

Your cunt squeezes Burdock’s cock so tight he whines in pain and pleasure. You giggle evilly and twist around, shuddering in pleasure as the knot pulsates inside you. You lean forwards and pull your asscheeks apart, exposing your tight pucker to the kobold.

“Lick.”

He tries to lean forwards. Poor fucker isn’t flexible enough. He’ll find a way, with the right encouragement. You bring your feet over his fat testicles and lean. Burdock yelps and stretches all the way, his long tongue stimulating your asshole. You run your hands over the bulge on your stomach, relishing the pleasure as it slams inside you.

“Fucking harder!” You whip your tail on his body.

You bounce on his cock, occasionally stepping on his balls to get the fuckstick to thrust deeper into you. The coward is too much of a bitch to grab you with his meaty paws and tear into your holes, so you lean harder on his testicles. You even bend all the way forwards so you can grab them and squeeze.

It’s too much for him, his yipes turning into a moan as he cums inside you. You feel his shuddering orgasm, riding the pleasure and his dick without stopping, watching your belly swell with his jizz.

He slows down for a moment.

“We stop when I say we stop, dickwad!” You kick him between the legs and his cock twitches in pain.

Oh, that feels good~

You kick him again, and he thrusts into you harder. Good, he’s learning!

As you ride him for the next hour, you get a telepathic message from Saturday.

<A few goblins want to join us.>

<I won’t say no to green cock> You stumble halfway to hide the telepathy. <Turd-cock clearly needs help.>

<I meant as squires. Vanilla, Tongs, and Libby want to help us hunt the other demons. The rest are going to resettle closer to Hacksonville.> There’s a pause. <The others agree to bring them with us, we’ll need locals. We only need your vote.>

Why does he think you give a shit?

<Don’t care.>

<Great! By the way, the leader of the knights is heading to your tent.>

It’s one distraction after another here! You scowl and stand up, holding your cum-bloated stomach up with one arm as you drag an exhausted Burdock by your cunt to the tent flaps. Manifesting your shadow helm, you pop your head out to surprise Bjorn before he could come inside.

He stops for a moment, then takes a deep breath and gets closer.

“Ma’am, I felt a telepathic message coming from your tent. Are you alright?” He stands taller. “I saw you bring the kobold into the tent and I grew worried—”

“What do you think we’re doing in here?” You snarl and gyrate your hips around to stuff the bruised cock deeper inside you.

“I’m not sure.” The dwarf is reluctant. “But I fear that such a ferocious being could pose a danger—”

You laugh. Danger? You kick Burdock in the balls, another pathetic spurt of jizz dribbling into your stuffed womb. That, and the dwarf knight’s expression, makes you laugh even harder. Stupid mortal. It’d be almost endearing if it wasn’t insulting.

Still, an excuse would be nice. You’re a terrible liar, so it needs to be something believable.

“Listen, short stuff.” He mouths ‘short stuff’ in confusion. “I brought Burdock to my tent to relieve some pent-up tension by wrestling. He’s strong enough that I don’t break him.” You emphasize your point by flexing your kegels, a shudder of pleasure running through you and Burdock as he moans in pain. “When it comes to wrestling, I won’t lose. Ever.”

He steps back, intimidated. Good.

“You’re too bloodthirsty to be a pure dwarf.” Bjorn sighs and rubs his head. “Though you’re as stubborn as one. I will leave you to it. From the sounds of it, perhaps you should be gentler with the kobold.”

“Sure,” you cackle as he walks away to join his knights.

They’re watching Saturday, December, and March do some weird ritual with the goblins. Whatever, not your business.

You close the tent and dismiss your helm. Your battered fuckstick lays there pathetically. He’s frothing at the mouth more than you are at the pussy. You’re not even close to satisfied yet, the lazy shit. You waddle away from the entrance, dragging him by his dick again. You punch him in the leg and he barely reacts.

Useless.

Sighing, you straddle him again and put your hands on his chest. Might as well give him a little pick-me-up. Your DESIRE is potent, and weirdly volatile. You push some into his chest and lick your lips as his muscles twitch and swell, his eyes fading into a haze of powerful lust. Your tail flicks about in excitement.

Mindless, fearless, angry DESIRE rushes into him, healing his bruises and clouding his mind. You can feel his cock hardening like an iron rod inside you. He glares at you, and you return his rage with a smug grin.

“How’s it going, Turd-cock?”

He howls in anger and grabs you by the ankles, slamming his knot even deeper inside you. He punts you into the ground and pulls you up by the legs so he can drill his cock down into your tight pussy. You stare up at him with a huge smile and he pistons his thick cock into you with greater force than ever. Your eyes roll back as he unleashes a huge load into you after three pumps, a firehose of cum gurgling into you.

“Fuck, yes, yes, yes!~”

Waves of ecstatic DESIRE batter your senses until all you feel is the delicious rod plugging up your insides. Your abdomen swells even more, so much that you can’t see Burdock’s crazed expression past your swollen stomach.

He twists around, forcing your head to the ground with his huge paw. You’re grinning madly as he pulls his length out of you slowly, the knot stretching your cunny apart until you’re gasping in pleasure. Then he crashes back into you, a spray of your mixed fluids raining down on your body. He repeats the process again and again, glazing you in layers of his and your cum.

“F-f-fuck my tight pussy~ Fill me with your doggy swimmers!~ Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” You shriek.

With a final push, your horns pierce into the earth and the both of you climax in a fountain of jizz. The empowering DESIRE you gave Burdock is spent, his body shrinking from the aftereffects. He collapses backwards, his depleted cock sputtering clear jism as he falls unconscious.

You’re left fully upside down, thick gobs of cum trickling down your yoga ball sized stomach. Sighing contently, you pull yourself out of the ground and handstand, careful not to spill any of the seed.

That was…acceptable.

You conjure up a shadow seal over your cum-soaked pussy and waddle over to the bed. You pat your stomach, shivering happily as you feel the contents sloshing inside you. Technically, you could absorb it there.

But you like the taste. You conjure a straw connected to the seal and sip at the musky sweet jizz as you lay on your side. Sucks that Labor isn’t here.

He loves when you spoon and share.