Toybox #13: Deus 3 (Patreon)

Chapter Three:

Kia was a priestess of the Seven. She was a devout woman with dark skin and dark, kinky hair. Her body is tight and strong, but her bottom is round and firm. She has small, brown breasts with stiff, dark nipples, and she has a husband and two children. She is devout in her worship of the church, and she is committed to her town, to her people, and to her faith.

When she woke up in climax after dreaming of the boy, she had her faith shaken to its core for the very first time. She reached for her star before she reached for her husband, and she clutched it tight to her breasts. Her nipples were stiff and aching beneath her bedclothes and her body was damp with a cool sweat. Beside her, her husband stirred but did not wake, and she avoided his touch. Her body felt warm and her pussy moist and hungry, and she did not trust herself to refuse the sins of the flesh in a moment like this.

She remembered the dream, and she found that it followed her through the morning. No amount of prayer could remove it from her brain. In the dream, the boy was awake, and he watched her with one eye that was brown like bark and another eye that was pink like the sunrise before a storm. He watched her worship him with her body and succumb to depraved, lustful pleasure as if by demonic possession.

“Are you well,” her husband asked. He was a big, strong man who worked the fields. She was proud to be his wife and bragged about him often, and she had been happy with their union, especially in the bedroom. Her dream shook her, however. In fantasy, at least, the boy had an endowment that her husband could not equal. She had seen hint of this in reality, too, but she could not commit herself to the idea.

She gave him a shaken smile and said, “I am fine, Seven preserve me. The boy. He worries me.”

Her husband gave a sagely nod and joined her at the window. He moved to hug her, and she allowed it, but she was distant. He could feel a space that had formed between them, but he did not understand it. He breathed her in, but he found that she smelled different. Foreign. Musky. The scent aroused him, but it also turned his stomach.

“I fear that the boy will bring ruin to our town,” she said, and she stared out the window at the muddy streets of Weststadt. She could see the roof of the healing hut in the distance, and she felt it calling to her. She took her husband’s hands but found no relief in their rough, working strength anymore. “Nothing should survive for days without food like that. Whatever is in him may kill him in its removal. I am beginning to fear we’ve let an evil in.”

“Maybe we have, but the Clerics will arrive soon, will they not?”

Kia nodded.

“Then trust them, and trust in the guidance of the Seven. We do what we must as tools of the Divine. Nothing less and nothing more.”

“Such kind wisdom,” she whispered to him. “Thank you.” He moved to kiss her, and she provided him her cheek. In her dream, she had taken the boy’s gargantuan tool into her mouth, and she felt wrong in providing her lips to her husband now, though she could not place why.

Meanwhile, at the healing hut, Carrie and Samantha have arrived sleepless. The dreams which that have been plaguing other women within the city are more then dreams to them, and the charade of serve was growing thin. They serviced this boy’s appendaged out of a mixed feeling of devotion to him and out of a growing need for pleasure kindled within themselves.

Carrie writhed as her bottom slapped down on him. “Ah!!!” She was covered in a thin, shining layer of sweat as her curves shook and rippled. Her nipples were swollen and erect, and her lips were parted. Her brown hair was stuck to her slick forehead. Her eyes were distant and glassy, and she mirrored Samantha’s smile as her mentor approached with a look of heady pride on her face.

“He’s good, isn’t he,” asked Samantha breathlessly as she crawled onto the bed with them. Carrie was rolling her hips on the boy’s sleeping form. His legs were skinny and atrophied beneath her. Undressed, he was scrawny and without meat. Samantha could not imagine what sort of health he would be in once he woke, but she knew that one part of him was healthy, and that part mattered the most to her.

“He’s so good,” Carrie whined. She was much bigger than him, and her entire body shook from the force of their lovemaking. He did not move, but the length of him drove into her depths with each movement she made anyway. Samantha smiled and smoothed the younger woman’s hair back, and she moved past the woman to lower herself and kiss the young man’s skinny chest and feel his ribs through his stretched, taut skin. That he was alive was a miracle as far as she was concerned.

“He’s perfect,” she sighed, and she kissed her way up to his lips. Briefly, she thought he was watching her with that pink eye of his, but as she stared at him, she found him sleeping. His breathing was shallow but quickened, and she could tell that his orgasm was fast approaching. She looked back at Carrie’s big, quaking bottom and smiled. “Keep going. He is almost there.”

“Good,” gasped Carrie. “I feel like I need it. I feel like I need his pleasure in me!”

“Your husband cannot provide for you as he can,” said Samantha with pride, and she kissed the young man lightly on his gaunt cheek. “But he can. He will provide.”

“Ah!”

“What are you two doing?!”

Samantha stirred and looked toward the door, and she found Kia there in her pristine priestess robes. The white fabric of her robe contrasted sharply with the darkness of her skin. Even dressed in such garb, her arousal was clear from the sweat on her brow and the stiffness of her nipples. She glowered at the pair, and Samantha only smiled.

“Priestess! Join us! We’re attending to his needs!” She looked back at the boy and smoothed his hair. “Almost there,” she whispered. “You were trusted to our care, and we have taken care, haven’t we?”

“He’s there,” gasped Carrie, and she settled on him with a loud, wet slap as he filled her. All three women felt it, and even Kia, who had only just arrived and bore witness, came hard enough for it to leave her legs numb as he boiled Carrie’s insides with his burning seed.

Kia and Samantha came, too. Samantha took joy in it and clung to the sleeping boy’s legs as she panted and whined like an animal. Kia, however, held the doorframe for support before she dragged herself back into the hall. By the sounds of things inside of the room, neither of the harlots had stopped. Instead, they had taken to cleaning him with their whore mouths as Kia staggered out of the building.

Kia went straight to Captain Thompson and Morgan and brought them both to the healing hut immediately. Then, she and Morgan waited outside as Thompson and his soldiers went in to fetch Samantha and Carrie. They dragged the women out in the nude, and the soldiers politely averted their hungry gazes as Samantha and Carrie gasped and whined and begged to be taken back inside.

Morgan was flushed to see the two women in such a state. She was also aroused to smell raunchy, musky sex on them. It was so much more than anything she understood or could comprehend, and a base part of her envied them. She looked at Kia, whose face was still flushed despite her complexion, and she asked, “Is it the curse?”

Kia stared at the healing hut with an intensity that Morgan both recognized and feared. It was like she was in there with the boy and experiencing the curse herself, and in a way, Kia was. The hut walls were almost invisible to her because she knew what she would if she entered that building. The boy was waiting with a hard-on for her, and it frightened her how much that excited her.

“We have been too careless,” she said. “There is still time until the clerics arrive.” She looked at Morgan. “Until then, no one may enter that building without a guard as escort except for me.”

Morgan stared Kia in the eyes and could see the arousal there. “…Are you sure that you…”

“Are you questioning me as the city’s speaker for the Divine?!”

Morgan shook. “No,” she said. “Of course not. I apologize.”

“Good,” said Kia firmly, and she stared back at the hut. “I will be fine,” she said, though she said it more to herself than to Morgan. She was not fully convinced, but she feared what would happen should someone else stray. Samantha and Carrie were already corrupted and would require divine intervention to save. The boy was a threat unlike any Kia had faced before, but she trusted the Divine and the Seven to see her through. “I will return later to see him fed and given water. Until then, guards should be posted outside of the building while Samantha and Carrie have their husbands informed.”

“It will be done,” said Morgan, and Kia left to pray.

Kia prayed for hours before she left the church. She stopped by home to see her husband and hoped that between love and faith, she would have the strength to resist the urges that the curse had planted inside of her. She was hornier now than she had ever been, and though she could seek relief in her husband, she knew for fact that she could not find it in him.

The orgasm she was given by simply being in the room with the other two was beyond anything that she has ever known, and she fears that it has forever changed her. She was nearly shaking as she approached the hut. There, she was met by two guards who seemed smaller and almost sunken by proximity, and she ordered them to fetch her water and goods to sate the boy with.

She waited and adjusted her robes, and she stared down her body and wondered what the boy would think of her if he was awake. The thought struck her as odd, but she did not examine it closely because she feared what it implied. When the guards returned, she took the food inside with her but left it at the door once alone with him.

Kia shook as she approached the bed. She could see the boy’s manhood through his open trousers. He was tumescent and ungodly large. Even the orcs she had heard of in stories of the past were not bred like this boy, and she stared with an open hunger at his appendage. This was the work of the demon of lust, Asmodeus. She knew it by the craftsmanship and by the way it tugged at her loins, but that knowledge did little to aid her.

“No wonder they had such trouble resisting,” she said, and she stood beside the bed and watched the shallow movement of the boy’s chest. He was so small and gaunt, but his dick was rigid. She stared at it, and she swore that she saw the boy watching her. She enjoyed it, and she silently and privately hoped he enjoyed her body as he stared.

When she looked at him, he was sleeping though. She checked the door, and she swallowed before extending a shaking brown hand for his pale manhood.

Kia had a blanket over her robes as she left. She was sweating and glassy eyed. Outside, she found guard captain Thompson waiting with his helmet cupped in the crook of his arm. He was a handsome, older gentleman with curly hair and a strong body. He stood only a few inches taller than Kia, and they stopped together in the muddy street when she left the hut. “Thompson?”

“Your grace.” Thompson bowed. “I apologize. I had heard what happened earlier and came to check on you when I heard you were bringing the prisoner food,” he said, and he looked at the hut with distrust. He was sober enough to know the danger the boy represented, and he was pragmatic enough to want nothing to do with it. Kia would have to be careful.

“I appreciate your concern, but I am a woman of the cloth,” she said, and she clutched her star with her clean hand. Her other hand still smelled strongly of semen and flesh, and she hid it within the blanket she used to hide her soiled robes. She could smell the boy on her, but she hoped Thompson couldn’t.

Thompson nodded. “But not all of us are,” he said. “I am a man of faith, but even I am unsettled by what I saw of the healers.” He stared into the middle distance like he was not there, and she thought for a moment that he might be fighting against his own arousal. He blinked back into awareness and gave her a look of genuine concern. “I fear what will happen to this town of ours while we wait for our cleric, don’t you?”

“There is danger in keeping him here, yes,” she said, and she looked back at the hut and imagined the boy’s rigid cock again. Her insides twisted, and she cleared her throat. Thompson watched her, and she looked at him again and said, “But I am far more afraid of what will happen to the town should we try to hurt the boy.”

Thompson frowned. “How do you mean?”

“A curse like this is the result of powerful magic. Demonic magic, even. If we interfere without Divine magic, then we might unleash something even worse and render it too late for the church to provide us assistance at all beyond a cleansing fire. You are a soldier, Thompson, and you are not afraid of a fight, but not all of us are soldiers, and we stand to lose much more through impatience.”

Thompson looked back at the hut and nodded, and then he pulled his helmet on and said, “Then we keep watch, and we change the guard regularly to fight whatever horrible influence consumed those two.” He rested a hand on his sword and bowed toward her. “Thank you for your guidance.”

Kia nodded.

Thompson turned to leave and stopped when he regarded the grey clouds pooling in the horizon. “And priestess?”

“Yes?”

“I ask that you pray to the Divine for good weather, for I would surely hate to see the cleric made late by a storm.”

“As would I,” said Kia as Thompson left, and she looked at the hut again. Lifting her soiled hand, she gave it a sniff and felt warm all over before she returned to the chapel to scrub. To her horror, she still stunk afterward, even when she used soap.