A Deep, Deep Legacy

"Captain Andrea's resolve in keeping her full-plate armour and even her helmet at any time is astounding!" exclaimed one of them, making sure not to be heard by the Paladin Apprentice at the front of the party. "It is no wonder she is worth becoming the next Saint Paladin..."

The young squire was right about her resolve, but not in the right way.

"OH GOD! OH GOD! OH GOD! OH GOD! OH GOD!" screamed Andrea internally, her face a mess behind her helmet, tongue out and her eyes rolled, barely managing to remain on the horse while holding her moans.

She rhythmically reaped what she sowed, the rock grinding her anal walls with every bounce. She felt miserable, but at the same time averaged a surge of pleasure every few minutes. Her poor mount was utterly drenched in her lady juices, which she hope she could justify as sweat for wearing the armour.

She had felt confident when asking her mother for the next step in the ritual, finding the initiation too easy after a few weeks; she had clearly inserted more than she could bear, and that cursed task from the cardinal didn't help. How could she forget about horse-ridding, the nemesis of the Deeprock family?

In all her life, she had never seen her mother ride a horse, despite being the Saint Paladin, and even the use of carriages was pretty rare, limited to the events of utmost importance. She never understood why, until that present day. Indeed, she would now never forget the feeling of having a 20cm rock grinding her insides on horseback for long hours, while having to behave in front of her comrades.

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"How did this damn Paladin found our lair?! Run for your lives!" shouted the brigand, dropping his sword to scamper hastily.

Andrea stepped in the cave slowly, taking necessary measures to not let a single one flee. She didn't need to position herself when sword-branding fools were approaching her. Instead, she would simply swing her sword from afar; the force generated by the strike cut through the air like a wind blade, neatly severing the unfortunate men in numerous bloody parts.

Each swing sent a sharp tingle emanating deep from her lower back, making her grit her teeth and her forefront sweaty. Her allies always confused her blushed face, panting and restraint of moves for drawbacks of some Paladin sword techniques, but as usual with the Deeprock family, the truth was always deeply buried.

The swings were extremely crude from a technical standpoint, it was the best she could do with such as device plugged in her. No, what really powered them were her pleasure surges. Within each swing, she would forcefully compress her sphincter and anal muscles to trigger a surge. Only a Paladin apprentice who studied and trained her entire life had the mental capacity to resist the pleasure deluge while retaining a modicum of poker face compared to what she felt internally.

"Hyaaa! Hyaaan! Hyaaaaan!" screamed Andrea lewdly with each swing like a perverted tennis player. Her followers couldn't help but admire the beautiful blonde Paladin combatting this way. She knew most of them spanked their swords at night dreaming of her; she didn't mind, and even used it to fuel her swings even more. The Deeprock, she had started to realize, were also part exhibitionists.

The assault took twenty more minutes before settling. Her subordinates took care of finishing the work, while she went to examine the treasure room. She soon discovered the latter: endless riches, gold and jewellery. The thieves had accumulated an impressive amount. She could even distinguish swords with tasty handles, golden canes of respectable size, and trophies with interesting shapes that would fit so well in...

"God dammit!" she cursed internally, trying to cut her thoughts and cleanse her mind. She had recently started developing the bad habit of analysing objects around her in the search of things she could penetrate herself with.

For instance, the handle of the sword in front of her had such a nice and long shape, the idea of feeling its ridges against her inner walls made her drool...

She slapped herself, regaining control of her thoughts; but she could already feel the need surging again. She needed to act quickly to get rid of the lewd craving; better do it voluntarily than under the control of her subconscious.

Andrea took a deep breath, controlling herself towards the golden sword. She glanced at the entrance of the room, not hearing any noise; she probably only had a few minutes, better be quick. She moved her hand towards her bum, and unlocked a special back-door in her armour, specially designed for her by her mother; God only knew how she managed to procure it.

Her hand was trembling as she opened the back entrance, giving her hand access to her nether hole. Legs shaking, she braced herself and started extracting the rough device out of her insides. She moaned with her tongue out as the rugged and ridged rock scrapped through her inner walls while going out. Her rectum was soon free of its intruder and breathed in for the first time in weeks, glowing with vivid blue.

The deeprock in hand, she didn't know where to put it, as she did not have any storage space in her armour, nor did she want to stain anything with her anal remains. But her depraved mind soon found a solution, which she cursed internally but promptly implemented. Andrea opened her delicate lips wide, aligned her head to avoid a gag-reflex, and progressively plugged her throat with the device.

Her legs gave in when her taste buds finally acknowledged the taste of the device, transmitting the cursed information to her brain, which shut down her entire system until her mind properly understood the ramification of what she had tasted.

Why, in everything that is Holy, and for the love of God and the damned Hell, did that cursed rock taste like fresh semen? Did that device produce it? Did it come from her? Was it fertile?

"How God, the taste! I feel like I'm indefinitely sucking on a penis-flavoured candy. If only I could have it deep in my..." dreamed Andrea before coming back to reality, and being reminded of what she was currently doing by the empty feeling her rectum was notifying her. It demanded to be plugged back by any means, and she had an alternative in from of her.

The large sword planted in the ground stood in front of her, its tempting and ridged hilt the source of her desires. That thing probably measured around 30cm in length, with a diameter oscillating between 5 and 8cm via multiple ridges. The lewd Paladin turned around, positioned her back entrance as to have her anus kissing the pommel, and slowly lowered herself in the most humiliating act in her life as knight and soon-to-be Paladin.

"What a whore I have become, that cursed legacy..." her inner thoughts were interrupted by her moans every time her sphincter encountered a new ridge, panting as loud as the rock in her mouth allowed her as the pommel led the way in her large intestine.

A surge of extreme pleasure hit her when her bum reached the cross-guard, her orgasm awarded by the depraved position she was in: a Paladin anally-impaled on a longsword, with a deeprock in her mouth. Her underwear absolutely drenched with her lady juice, she still wanted more and recklessly fornicated herself on the hilt, reaching the lowest levels of depravity a Paladin could attain. Taste of rocky semen filling her mouth, she went up and down until her legs gave out, leaving her hanging on the sword after many, many surges, her hole in pain but apparently satisfied.

With a lucid mind, she stayed impaled there for a few minutes, pondering her recent actions and how she planned on remediating this issue in the future. It seemed obvious that the current size of her deeprock was not enough to satisfy her anymore.

"Is it me or have all the discussions with my mother centered around anal matters since that cursed night?" Andrea pondered with melancholy.

-----

"It is still too early for the next one, Andrea," declared her mother assertively with a stern face.

Mary examined her mess of a daughter and let out a sigh, knowing perfectly well what she was going through. Repeated brutal interactions had let her to become less and less sensitive. Andrea was currently presenting clear signs of withdrawal syndrome: she was sweating profusely, her face blushed, her hands constantly touching between her legs.

She could not bear to see her proud daughter in that pitiful state. The weight of the legacy meant that despite feeling guilty, she had to move on and solve this issue. She face-palmed and took a few seconds to strengthen her resolve, for what she was going to do went completely against what a standard mother would have done. She was a Deeprock Paladin mother after all.

She approached her daughter and touched her cheeks with both hands.

"Andrea, do you believe in me?" she asked her daughter in a convincing tone.

"Yes, Mother," promptly answered Andrea.

"I have a solution for your affliction, but the method is brutal and will last at long as it needs to," explained Mary in a serious tone, trying to hide her worried motherly look under her practice poker face.

"I trust you, Mother."

Mary took a few seconds to prepare for her next words.

"Understood. Strip all your clothes. I will be back", Mary ordered as she went to another room.

Andrea raised an eyebrow at the strange request coming from her own mother, but did not question it as she started undressing. Her armour dismantled piece by piece, she removed her undergarments, feeling the breeze on her large breasts. Her blond hair, blue eyes, pretty face and luscious figure would have entranced any straight man in the country. The lady knight couldn't help but blush; despite her perverted acts, she was not used being naked in front of others.

Mary came back soon enough, raising an eyebrow at the perfect figure of her daughter, but not saying a word. In her hands were various metal and leather apparatuses. She dropped them and took one in particular, a mouth gag with an lockable opening, which she immediately attached and locked on her daughter, not giving her the right to emit any question. Andrea was surprised but remained calm.

The next item was a leather belt with metal protection, with an extension that went up to her lady part. The chastity belt was designed to protect the virgin lady part while still giving free access to the back-door. Andrea started panting lewdly as she starting imagining what her mother had prepared for her.

The final items were a leather mask to hide her identity, and knee protections. Looking at her daughter dressed in this perverted setup was difficult for Mary, but she knew it was essential to protect her a minimum. Her public dignity and virginity were of utmost importance for a lady. Hopefully the street would help fixing the rest.

-----

Two robed figures were walking through a dark alley, deep in the city suburbs. Beggars were everywhere, and for a good reason: the red-light district had a surprising high amount of traffic. Arousing ladies were propositioning lewd services to the passer-by; many young men came here for an easy way of assuaging their lust, and supply and demand hand-in-hand, the district had grown to a consequential size.

The most popular alley, but also the most depraved, was the public discharge area: this cursed place hosted pillories with poor slaves attached there all day, costing only a penny to use. The fees were so low that it was generally considered a punishment for unruly servants rather than a viable economic investment. Despite so, there were quite a few occupied, and long queues were present for the depraved who wanted a quick and easy discharge.

Mary, still robed, approached the guard who was in charge of the place, whispered a few words to him, handed a pouch filled with coins, and promptly departed, not even giving her daughter a glance. The guard gripped Andrea's robe, and removed it in an overt manner, as if revealing a secret prize under the hood. And what a prize it was.

The current pillories' occupants paled in front of this lovely beauty. Her mask, covering her entire face and eyes, leaving the victim blind and deaf, did not reduce her charm as her stunning figure and magnificent bosom were way up the standards of any man in town. The guard smirked at the thought of this lovely whore getting pinned on the public pillory for months. He wondered was kind of mistake she accomplished to receive such a punishment. Maybe the wife of the owner got jealous?

Anyway, the guard did his duty and led Andrea to an open spot, right in the middle of the cursed plaza. Andrea felt worried as she couldn't hear or see anything, the hard grasp on her hand leading her somewhere. The hand then stopped pulling her, and another one on her head made her kneel.

Andrea emitted a yelp of surprise at the cold contact of the stone floor with her legs and knees. She was then forced to lean forward, and soon felt the feeling of wood on her throat and arms, which she soon could not move anymore. The knee and other protections from her mother did not help alleviate the shamefulness of her current position. She couldn't see, could barely hear anything, and the mouth gag prevented her from speaking properly, only allowing her to emit moans and screams.

Despite all that, she felt aroused and eagerly waited for her first customer. She was smart and had already guessed where her mother had led her. The depraved lust made her completely blind of her predicament and long-term situation. She just wanted something in her ass, whatever the cost. Why had her mother removed the rock? She felt some empty...

The guard finished installing the whore and planted a wooden post next to her indicating the price of her hole. Whereas the average pillory was prescribed at around five silvers the session, this beautiful ass was accessible at the symbolic price of one measly copper. She must really have enraged her owner to deserve such a tribulation. He glanced a look of piety at the poor woman and returned to his position.

Andrea moaned when she finally felt a pair of hands pressing on her buttocks. She couldn't hear her first customer being surprised by her blue hole, but she could very well feel his shaft penetrating her without consideration, her bum way too attractive to ponder about her blueness. Andrea felt a surge when she realized she had lost her anal virginity to a stranger in the slums.

She, a Paladin apprentice, really had become a cheap whore; and she realized she didn't dislike it. Until recently Andrea had led a life of a sinless knight and scholar, which only served to overthrow her further more when she discovered her dark side. The lack of introduction to anything remotely sinful had made her extremely vulnerable and now dependent on lust.

She drooled and emitted a growl of pleasure as the gentleman of the suburbs reached base-deep, and she started panting when he grabbed her hair and began ploughing rhythmically. A few slaps to her bum resulted in feminine screams of pleasure, and his release painted her insides white as her legs shook from the final surge. After hugging her from behind, licking and kissing her back, and playing with her breasts, the customer finally withdrew, an utterly pleased smile on in his face.

"This lass is the best hole I've ever had in my life," declared the beggar. "I hope you will be there for a long time, honey; I will come back when I'm full again."

"Hurry up, old man!" complained someone behind.

The beggar turned around and saw dozens of men lined up, aimed at enjoying the newcomer.

--------

Her insides took responsibility for what must have been years of frustration and stress from the general populace. Her lack of stimuli made her focus more intensely on her nether regions and decupled her touch sensitivity. Day by day passed as she was constantly abused, the guard taking care of feeding her a minimum.

Lust and pleasure she initially experienced in her depraved state dimmed progressively, the arousing act turning into something more akin of a routine, albeit a painful one punctuated with surges. She would have lost her mind if it were not for the connections she forged. At some point she had realized her customers communicated in a more truthful manner with her through their rough actions than they would with words.

One in particular she could now recognize from his shape and behaviour alone. He would release quickly in a forceful manner, as if damning his current existence and cursing God, or himself, for leading him to such as state. But afterwards he would repent by caressing her tenderly, as if regretting his act. He would repeat the act every few hours; he was confused and stuck in his current condition, not knowing what to do of his days, instead reverting to his base short-term instincts.

She did not feel dissimilar; after all, didn't her lust led her to whoring herself in the suburbs? Reverting to short-term pleasure seemed so foolish in retrospective. Having experienced a lifetime of extreme anal experience in such a small time had led her to become cynical at the whole endeavour.

Getting plugged by larger and larger things, and more and more things; what was the point of all that? Andrea finally understood why her mother had led her here: to find a larger goal that would strengthen her resolve and allow her to bear the legacy without losing her way.

The meaning of her life wasn't to get plugged by the largest deeprock.

Her legacy was a means to a grander aim.

"Bravo," congratulated someone in front of her.

Mary stood in the middle of the plaza, in front of her daughter's pillory. It was in the middle of the night, the only source of light a full moon.

"My daughter, I'm proud of you," she expressed, doing her utmost to keep her tears from flowing. Seeing her daughter in such as state would have been difficult for any mother, but she wasn't any mother.

She approached her daughter's face, and removed her mask. Andrea's tired face was revealed after a month of exotic meditation à la Deeprock. It took a few minutes for her eyes to work again, before she focused on her mother, and expressed her first words in weeks.

"Mother. I think I understand. I think I'm ready," declared Andrea in a raspy voice.

Mary stood in silence, admiring the resolve of her daughter. She had never felt so proud of her daughter. Mary opened her robe and conjured a very, very long and large blue crystal rock, about the same size of her own.

"I sculpted it myself, for you," she explained, showcasing her artwork in front of her daughter, still prisoner of the pillory. "Do you want it inside of you?" she asked, full poker face on.

Andrea only took a few seconds before answering.

"I do not care. Whether I have it or not won't change my end goal," she proudly declared with a confident smile.

"Excellent!" expressed Mary with a beaming smile, glad her daughter passed the hardest test of the legacy. "Andrea, brace yourself!" she said before going around the pillory and behind her daughter.

None of these hardships prepared Andrea for what she felt that day. The feeling of a 40cm-long and 12cm-diameter-wide ridged and rough crystal forcefully rushed in her back-door was excruciating. The reversed birth of the legacy sent her legs shaking like mad, she expulsed juices everywhere, and had her mother not provided her with a wooden rod to bite on beforehand she probably would have ruined her teeth and chewed her lips.

She started crying midway, too much in pain to hear the encouragements from her mother. In a panic, she allowed her lust-self to take control momentarily, converting the pain into pleasure by sheer depravity and masochism. Andrea the whore yelled and screamed like a beast, on and on for long minutes, until finally, it was all in.