Melehan & Morvith

"I was never going to use the Confessor on you. Truth be told, I don't think he'd go for anyone so decrepit. Can be very choosy when he wants to be." he mused and reclined back in his seat and then flicked his fingers at Sister Darrow and Grace. "Girls, please." He smiled as they emerged from the circle and got behind Mother Vera.

Vera broke through in a moment of clarity. "What in His Holiness's name are you talk- ohhhhh...." she moaned as Grace and Darrow leaned down and brushed the youthening woman's ears with their lips. Through their hushed and tantalizing whispers, they uttered words of dark and blissful enslavement upon the holy woman.

Goosebumps ran along her arm and already her face looked twenty years younger. Morvith grinned when he saw the mounds on her chest steadily grow higher and rounder by the second. Vera's eyes blazed with holy defiance for just a moment, and the dark prince thought he had played his hand too soon. Alas, it was nothing more than a flicker of resistance, the unholy concoction pumping in her veins already having done much to subvert her defenses.

The light of saints and warriors faded from her hands and eyes alike and her gaze glassed over, her robed legs spread wide out of a forgotten carnal instinct.

"Plus, you seemed to have some skill with the holy gifts of your former god. I wasn't terribly eager to face that head-on and so... Einaudi, proved most helpful." Morvith was there in the shadows in the early morning. He watched his voluptuous helper grab her weighty and round pale bosom with one hand and strum herself with other, crying soft and gentle pleasure as she kept her pussy over the steeping tea. Her exquisite nectar of corruption dripped and filtered into the hot water, ready to taint the unknowing and the innocent.

Mother Vera didn't stand a chance.

The wise woman now looked like a blooming maid, fresh into her twenties. Her breasts had doubled in size and stretched her tight fabrics to the limit as well as the bounds of good taste. "Oh... you got me..." she moaned, whether in celebration or sorrow, the prince could not tell. Her eyes rolled back into her head while a series of feminine gasps exploded out from her ripening lips, as moist as a spring rose.

Morvith stood up and saw there was now a tight chasm of ample cleavage below her neck, covered up by a sheen of white gossamer wraps that obscured nothing when the woman was old and without curves. "I never miss, fair lady." He noticed a golden cross hugged in between her creamy, round globes and ripped it off her neck as well as the gossamer wrap, leaving her deepening cleavage on the verge of pouring out.

With her talisman torn away, her last defense against taint and corruption crumbled and the evil that had taken root in her bosom bloomed like twisted branches around a sacred tree. Her back stiffened into an arch and her moans were deafening as overwhelming pleasure ripped through her once virtuous soul. Violent orgasmic convulsions overtook her while her heavy and lush tits trembled and wobbled to her dark ecstasy.

As Morvith walked away from the wanton and carnal place the kitchen had become, he beamed wickedly and incinerated Vera's talisman between his fingers in an ember of violet flame.

The faith of His Holiness was no more.

***

Bovo scrambled up to his master, looking like a starving, peach colored goblin. "Maaaster! While you were gone there were three tavern disturbances, unexpected collateral of thirty souls, forty one rap- I'm sorry- surprise ravishments-"

Melehan raised his hand. "You forget! I'm not Morvith, spare me of these evasive words and give me the truth! Or did you think me my brother?"

"Of course not si-"

"Oh your lies are too horrid you potato faced wastrel!" At once the deformed and faithful servant lost his head. Melehan greeted Josie with a kiss upon her soft and rising cleavage. "Serves him right. If my brother didn't want him dead he wouldn't have sent him to me."

Josie moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist. "Yes my lord, your malevolence is as terrible as your lusts are unquenchable!"

Melehan groaned and pushed her away. "Spare me the bootlicking you hollow little strumpet. I need you to be sharp, in three days time the new Elf ranger will come to visit. Be ready and have some ideas for plotting trade caravans and outposts."

"The Elves are back!?" she said with unrestrained excitement, her now depraved mind thinking of what delicious malice she could work on so noble a creature.

"Just the one. And she's already sworn to the Queen so I expect nothing... out of hand."

Hope of great depravity against the Elf died as hopes of great lechery with the Elf rose in equal measure. If the prince had made the creature anything like herself, Josie imagined a great friendship in the making. The last Melehan heard from his bright eyed, bosomy trophy as he mounted his horse was "Don't forget to visit!"

Melehan called out to her as his Black Moon witches, warlocks and mercenaries fell in line. "An occasion mourned by many, enjoyed by few! Perhaps, Josie, perhaps!"

***

And so this tale ends where their quests began. At a crossroads. The two brothers met again with their retinues in tow, their quests fulfilled.

Morvith walked with a caravan of curvaceous harlots in tow, Melehan with his troop of witches and warlocks. "Oh, what's this brother? Leaving with less men than you set out with?" said Morvith, eying the bruised and haggard of Melehan's ranks. "The peasant's fork too much, mayhap?"

"We have reserves." Melehan snapped and whipped his snorting horse forward. Both brothers eyed each other with suspicion and murderous rivalry. "Not all of us are so lucky to have cozy quests, wooing unwanted and failed maidens and their dried up mother hen. Orcs are not defeated by words of temptation and meaningful stares."

"I'm sure you'd be hard pressed to find a dry spot on any of them now. Isn't that right ladies?" The train of voluptuous nuns curtsied and cooed, shaking their buxom chests at Melehan's men. "But what, pray tell, happened to my beloved Bovo?"

"The scabby lout didn't survive his incompetence."

"Ah."

From the single path that forked into two, rode a galloping horsemen, bearing a banner of violet embroidered with the the black crescent of the Black Moon. A knight of the Queen. "My lords!" he called and the two brothers turned. "My lords, there was an attack on the Queen!"

"Did she die?" both brothers asked with rapid eagerness.

The man showed no sign of being taken aback. "Oh-No, my lords, she lived! The rebellion was cut off at its head, their men dead or at our side and their leader cold in the ground. She requests your presences for celebrations."

"Wonderful." Melehan deadpanned.

Morvith and his horse cantered forward. "Well let's to it then. Seems only a week ago we celebrated our dear Queen's glories..."

"That's because it was a week ago." grumbled Melehan. "Let's get this over with."

The two brother's caravans converged and lead by the messenger made their way to the capitol, yet again overshadowed by their mother's triumphs.

But it would not always be so...