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Alrym squared his shoulders, straightening to his considerable height. He was quite handsome, his dark skin contrasting nicely with his golden armour, soft rosy lips, his eyes framed by long lashes, but he refused to acknowledge it. Vanity was a Sin unbecoming of a paladin. Instead, he focused on sweating rivulets in the summer’s heat, his padding soaked beyond capacity to absorb.
The monster wearing the skin of a raven-haired woman sniffed the air tentatively.
“Three years you’ve been haunting me!”, it complained in a voice too melodious for a creature such as her. “Aren’t you getting tired of it?”
He was not tired. He drew his sword.
“I AM NOT A MONSTER, FOR FUCKS SAKE!”
Oh, could the monster scream! Alrym brandished his weapon high, after years of practice no longer feeling its weight.
The sun gleamed off the polished blade, blinding her.
Satisfaction pooled in his guts. “Vile creature, your lies will not deter me!”
It hissed, baring the teeth of a predator and retreating into the shade. “I’m warning you”, it growled. “For the last time. Leave me alone.”
He took a well-aimed swing.
The monster jumped as high as he was tall and screamed: “Enough! I’ve had enough.”
It tackled him. How could it bring him to the ground with so little effort? It ripped the sword out of his hand, as if it, too, knew how to wield it, and threw it away. His heart clenched when he heard the edge connect with the river stones.
“Now you show your true colours, fiend!” He could hardly press the words out through gritted teeth.
He grabbed his holy symbol, feeling its heat and comfortingly familiar shape. The Seven Stars of Virtue forming a circle. He held it in front of its face.
The monster…it took the pendant, and it…it ripped that off, too, and threw it away like refuse!
“How…how is it you can touch blessed items?”
“Stupid human”, it snarled. “Zealot! Misguided and self-righteous.”
He tried to throw it off but it lay on him, heavy as a horse. It bared short talons on fragile hands; they went through his plate as if parting water.
Alrym screamed very unbecomingly, and the monster grinned. If he had allowed his body’s sensations to matter, he would have had to admit – as lying was not allowed – that it was quite pleasant, having the slight breeze touch his skin, being free of the stifling armour and impossibly thick undergarments.
“My death means nothing to me! My Deity will accept me with open arms, knowing I died defending Their principles.”
“I’m not going to kill you”, the monster said, malice dripping from its words.
Alrym swallowed against a lump in his throat. “Your torture means nothing to me! My deity-”
“Shut up!” it put its hand over his mouth and he found he could no longer speak.
With renewed vigour, he tried to throw it off.
It rode him like a bucking bull. “Yes, tire yourself out, puny human! And when you can no longer fight, I will have my way with you.”
He was naked, bathed in sweat and caked in dirt, trying but failing to get up.
“You are resilient for a mortal”, it said.
It grabbed him by the gruff, dragged him over to the shallow river and threw him in.
He groaned. It felt divine — the cold water, fresh and sweet. He let it seep into his mouth, not fighting the gentle current, just floating, swallowing bliss. His muscles burned like they always did after a good fight.
He felt the monster approaching and remembered what had happened.
“If you were just going to drown me,” he said, “you could have done it hours ago.”
It laughed. “I’m merely cleaning you. The working sweat I don’t mind, but your fear stinks.”
Alrym was not afraid! And the water was giving him new strength. He attacked the monster, but it unceremoniously put his head under. How had it not simply bested him before? All these years he had thought himself superior, but this, this inhuman strength! How was he supposed to defeat it?
His lungs screamed by the time the monster dragged him up. There was nothing for him to do but inhale — he was not yet willing to submit to being murdered.
The monster put him under again.
He trashed wildly but futilely.
When his panic receded in favour of a blackening vision, he knew it was over. His senses did no longer obey him. What was it that he felt? A tingling on his skin. Scratching. Pressure. Pleasure.
Why pleasure?
He realised he was no longer under water but heaving air.
“What…are…you…doing!”
He was raw, blind.
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m preparing to ravish you.”
There was a sudden heat in his chest that he did not care to examine any closer.
“No, you cannot!”
“I can, and I will. You’ve only yourself to blame.”
It kissed him, its strong tongue breaking the resistance of his mouth, fucking into it indecently. He tried to bite, but his teeth couldn’t penetrate the monster’s skin. All he could do was let it proceed. The action stirred a longing in his loins for which he was immediately ashamed.
Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. He suppressed a sob. The monster held his chin in hand to prevent him from moving, extracting its tongue from his mouth and looking down on him out of all-black eyes.
Black eyes!
His vision had returned.
“Don’t!”, he whimpered. “Please, don’t do this! Not…this!”
He pretended what he meant was ‘don’t rape me’ not ‘don’t make me desire you’.
Its gaze travelled over his naked body to his erection, and he bit down on a needy sound he had never produced before in his life.
“Should have left me alone”, it drawled.
He licked his lips, realising he had forgotten to fight back.
It dragged him to the river’s bank and into the shade of a willow tree, away from the glaring sun.
Its arms were like a vice. One of them secured his wrists while the monster trailed kisses over his face, down his neck, to his chest, heading…down there.
“No! No! Don’t!”, he screamed, struggling violently. All that achieved was bruise his wrists. His erection bobbed towards the monster with every kiss it administered. “My virginity belongs to Ar-va-ti-nor! They are going to smite you, strike you down!”
The monster paused. It cocked its head. “I don’t think they will. I don’t think they care. Go ahead, try to pray.”
He took a shaking breath. “Ar-va-ti-nor, hear Thy faithful servant call Thy name. May Thine golden light erupt from the skies like fire-rain to smite this evil creature, obliterating it from the earth.” Nothing happened. “Please, please, please, be merciful and save this unworthy soul, abjectly begging for your salvation!”
Again, nothing.
“See?” She smirked. With red, red lips framing an open mouth, it moved closer to his untouched penis.
“No, no, no, aaaaah!” Wet heat engulfed him and he closed his eyes. That was worse! He opened them again, trying to focus on the predator’s teeth, but he could not see them with its mouth stretched wide around his length. It was obscene! He groaned. Its tongue! It moved and caressed and it felt…!
“Get off me! Get off me!”
It leaned back, slurping sounds accompanying the gesture.
Alrym shivered.
“I’ll do you one better. I’ll get you off.”
His penis was still tingling and straining with want he had never imagined.
The woman — the monster — straddled him.
He slipped inside it like his sword into its sheet. He moved his hips to escape her, but that…made everything worse. Again. All he could do was make it worse. Why?
“Oh!” he breathed, stilling his hips in a feat of will.
“Mhm”, it said, pushing itself up and dropping down roughly, its tongue licking its red lips. The tongue that had… No! No thinking about that!
“They tell you prayer and meditation are the best feelings you can have. I say this is better.”
“As if...as if you’ve ever prayed, demon!” He was holding still, he was! But the monster was moving and it was just so…it was so…it shouldn’t be so…
“Oh, I do pray. But my goddess thinks little of celibacy. Or hunting.”
“There is only one Deity, the true-“ He tried to grasp Their name, he really did, but the monster interrupted him with: “Or proselytising.”
And what the heck did it mean? Why was the heat pooling in his spine, his groin already on fire, power radiating inwards and outwards and…
“You monster!”, he panted. “Rapist! Murderer! Whore!”
It snapped its fingers in front of his face. Tiny sparks erupted, then a penis-shaped wooden contraption appeared, nestled within a leather belt.
He threw his head to the side, but the monster slipped the gag into his mouth as easily as Alrym had slipped into her. It. There was a certain freedom in no longer being able to speak.
He felt immensely guilty for that thought.
The monster sighed contentedly.
“Finally! No more stupidity. Only a hot, writhing body! Should have started with that.”
‘ No! No! No!’ Alrym kept chanting behind his gag, but it sounded more like grunts in time with her descents upon him. His whole body shook. She rode him mercilessly.
And then it happened.
The hot feeling exploded within him and tingled along the entirety of his nerves. Was he bucking? He probably was. There was not enough air. But Holiness, was there pleasure .
“Oh, bother!” she said. “I should have known that would happen!”
He didn’t understand.
She stepped off him. Slipping out of her felt strange. Cold. Tender.
Her fingers probed along his penis – why did that hurt? – and then probed further…down? He screamed behind the gag. He expected pain, but there was just an…uncomfortable sensation. Like needing to go. But inwards.
“Hush. If you didn’t want to be penetrated, you should have lasted longer.”
PENETRATED?
Why didn’t this intrusion feel worse? Why was there the sensation of too much…but good ? He shuddered.
“Oh. You might like that even better than I thought”, she said.
The tension…back there grew. His body gave way, without asking him first. His penis was still hard. Was that normal? Was that…
His back arched and the feeling returned, different this time, almost painful but still so, so good!
If there was anything else she said, he didn’t hear it.
Now it was definitely no longer good. It wasn’t! It was big. Did the monster have a penis? It did not have a penis before. Of course it now had a penis!
Alrym’s body jostled along without his assistance. He tried to feel morally offended, but he mostly felt exhausted. Unable to speak. Unable to keep his eyes open. There the feeling came again, but a weak whimper was all he could muster. It went on forever!
He must have passed out, because he did not remember the gag being removed. A cool hand patted his cheek.
“That was fun, thanks!”
It left him lying at the bank staring up at the sun. His skin was burning.
He couldn’t have cared less.
When he followed its trail, he told himself it was still to kill the monster. To make it pay for how it had defiled him, had brought him off the rightful path. It was his shame driving him. His wish for justice, for revenge.
He especially told that to his penis, but his penis refused to listen. It would rise and torment him, no matter how often he forced it down with pain or pure thoughts. In the evenings, when he could no longer fight it, when all prayers deserted him and he felt he had finally lost his way completely, he gave it a few furtive tugs, fantasising about a hot, wet mouth and a talented tongue, and what he would say to her, when they finally met again.
What she said, when he caught up to her six months later, was: “You must be joking!”