Adventures of Tosaki: Rive

When they'd reached the Count's door, only a dozen bodies trailed behind them. None were dead, except those that fought. It was better to be quick and silent instead of extending a fight and risk noise. Tosaki hadn't raised a finger. The others were all too eager to prove their ability by killing the guards themselves.

She checked the door for magic and saw none. Odd. Anyone with magic would have cast a ward on the wood, something to detect intruders if nothing else, but not a trace tainted the material.

"We should find another way," Tosaki said but went unheeded. Someone forced open the door. Then she realised why she couldn't sense any magic. Someone had dampened the room, preventing any magic from leaking past a certain point. Now, with the door open, she saw the Monster Watchman and another, weaker source of magic. Dozens of other Watchmen crowded the Count's bedroom. They circled a large, exuberant bed.

Tosaki drew a pair of daggers and waited. The others didn't and died. These were the elite, that was clear. One assassin went for a feint and stab, but had it reversed and fell. Another attempted to use a chain, but was outwitted and impaled. The rest were straightforward, a few quick exchanges before steel severed their lives.

Overconfidence was a more prolific killer than any soldier or army. Tosaki could handle the elites, they were small fry compared to who held her attention. The Monster Watchman, silent and unmoving behind their helmet and armour, each bulky enough to maintain a genderless shape. Their shoulders were too sleek for a man, but the sheer size of their arms was unnatural for any human female she'd met. Perhaps it was an ogre, or a troll? Any number of oversized monsters could be behind the armour.

But she wasn't interested in their identity for the moment, only how to kill them. Their protection offered few openings. Magic would be needed. Tosaki exhaled and let her magic flow, clenching as her rings heated with the excess. The mass of armour tilted its head and nodded to its comrades. Unlike the earlier brutes, they came at her in waves, teams of twos that attacked from multiple directions.

Tosaki parried two, kicked another aside and stabbed a third in the chest. She didn't withdraw her dagger and, instead, took his short sword and used it on a fourth. The remaining few stepped in cautiously, swiping at her legs, jabbing, probing for weaknesses. With her magic active, Tosaki reacted at the shifts in the air. Her body jiggled as she moved, breasts rippling like bowls of pudding, yet her agility belied her curves.

One of them got desperate and made a punch for her face. She threw her last dagger at his ally - they parried it - and caught his fist, then swung him in a wide arch. On release, he flew into a wall and left a sizable crater. Two remained. She went on the attack. She swung high and low, side-to-side, strong and weak. It wasn't anything special, however she moved faster than they could keep up.

One fell to a deep slash through his chest plate, and the other crumpled as she severed the tendons in his legs. She impaled his head to end the pain. Tosaki pulled it free as the Monster launched itself at her. Their weapons met. Its was a bastard sword, heavy and dark, designed for power and little else. However that was all it needed.

Tosaki moved the blow to the side and stepped away. She made a jab for its knee, but the weapon bounced off the armour. Her free hand extended, palm open and focused her magic into a series of tendrils. They snaked out and into the tiny cracks. The Monster Watchman grunted and its own power expunged them. Tosaki cursed and leapt at it.

Blow after blow flew and blurred together. Tosaki danced between the corpses and tested their weapons, before settling on a long sword, light and easy to use. The great black sword the Monster used would have shattered it long ago, if she didn't imbue with magic. Each clash sent dazzling sparks, illuminating her face and its helmet. Tosaki kept her composure, uncertain that she needed emotions for this fight yet.

Then it lashed out with a kick and caught her in the side. She blocked with her arm, but the blow launched her into a wall, knocking the air from her lungs. It was on her again in an instant. Now she knew what it was that unnerved her about this person.

Their magic was like hers. Only focused. It was augmentative magic, a kind taught to warriors. The simplest spell could harden skin to iron, or double your strength and speed. That was what it used, and in abundance. Tosaki still blocked them, keeping pace and even exceeding at times. Even so, the armour deflected any blow she landed.

Flurries of blows detonated into sparks, then both forced the other back. Tosaki stood up straight and exhaled, lowering her sword. The Watchman likely frowned at that and followed suite. Both regarded the other for a moment before Tosaki laughed. Truly laughed.

"You know, I really enjoy a good fight," Tosaki said and pulled off a ring. One should suffice for now. Without the layer of restraint, her power surged, ripples of strength that poured through every limb, gushing like a river released from a dam. And her joy reflected that. So rare that she found a fighter of this calibre, that she could let an emotion run free. Lust was a beast that couldn't be chained, only cajoled for a brief time. Happiness, such as what she now experienced, was a true rarity.

The Monster Watchman stumbled back a step before steeling its resolve. Tosaki giggled and hopped from foot to foot, then pivoted around. Her body hadn't felt so light in years. Perhaps she'd put on some weight? It was possible, the only exercise she'd had in the last few months was the occasional romp with an enthusiastic lover. This was just what she needed. Though she doubted the Monster would appreciate it.

"Shut up and fight!" It shouted. Tosaki paused. That was a feminine voice, though deep and gruff, attempting to cover up her gender by the sound of it. The fact didn't change Tosaki's goal of victory. She continued to dance in place, smirking and taunting her foe.

"I'm waiting," Tosaki said.

"Don't get cocky," the Monster said and adopted a more polished stance, "You just used your trump card. I feel it."

"Oh? Care to try me?" Tosaki stopped and ran a finger down her body, arcing it over her curves, while she pursed and pouted her lips, eyes going wide.

"Stupid bitch!" The Monster took a step forward and stabbed at Tosaki. She ducked the fatal blow and kicked at her shins, denting the armour and forcing the woman to stagger back. Another swipe cut through the air nearby and a sword was buried into the floor near her head. Tosaki vaulted back to her feet, planting them into the Monster's chest to push her further back and, using their weight, she pivoted away to land on her feet. She resumed her dance.

Little physical damage showed, but her composure was shattered. Sloppy feints and jabs flew but were parried. Tosaki made her own attempts, pouring her magic into each attack. She slashed and left a great rent in the breastplate, a second attempt almost severed the straps on the arms, while a third managed to draw blood. Even so, she wasn't dominating as she'd hoped. The Monster recovered her senses quickly and settled into a deadly rhythm.

Parry, swipe, dodge, stab... Tosaki stepped up the tempo but the Monster kept pace, even forcing her to adjust to her speed, however the issue was sorted with a simple backstep. By cutting off the flurry, the storm died. A moment of calm settled as the Monster wondered why she wasn't being attacked. As she recovered from a failed swing, Tosaki kicked her legs out from below and used the momentum to launch a kick into her gut. A wall crumbled as the Monster Watchman soared.

Tosaki crouched to give chase but froze and blocked as her enemy came flying back. She just managed a block, stunned that if she had given chase she would've died. The Monster wrestled their swords together and dislodged them, sending the metal clattering into each other. Neither thought to retrieve them and instead fell into a maelstrom of melee.

A punch clipped Tosaki's ear. She, in return, tore off a grieve and left a bruise. The Monster attempted a grapple, then had it turned on them, but she caught herself and flipped Tosaki instead. The ground trembled from the force. She didn't pause for long and rolled aside, avoiding a plummeting fist, then pushed off her hand to smash her enemy's face. They fell back into a standard exchange, each feeling the other out and testing new ground in the process.

Magic swirled amid the flurry. In Tosaki's vision, it was like a snowfall within her own bubble, specks of brilliant white scattering in the wind they created. Electricity surged as she slowly stripped away the armour and their skin connected. It was here that Tosaki gained the advantage. Control was her weakness, which meant her magic leaked into everything she did. Her recent punch missed, only for her power to surge and snap it into the Monster Watchman's face. The helmet cracked and revealed an eye.

The more skin revealed, the more Tosaki's magic took hold. It was instinct. Her foe summoned more power, so her own welled up in response. Muscles swelled as power became more necessary, yet her breasts also expanded, countering the sudden added weight in her rump. No one understood it, but her affinity for transformations constantly made her grow if she left a ring off for too long. If the fight lasted much longer she would gain a few more inches to her curves.

While not nightmarish, and reversible under the right conditions, Tosaki had no intention of letting it last that long. She focused, corralling her magic toward speed, and caught the Monster off guard. For every hit that was blocked, several more struck. Soon, her enemy's armour was a crumpled mess that flew across the room. Once the final piece was impaled on the floor, Tosaki pinned her opponent. She didn't look at her face before snapping her neck.

Standing, the elf rolled her shoulders and grimaced at the soreness in her body. Her muscles deflated, though her breasts remained enlarged. Such a nuisance, though not an unwelcome one. After tonight, she would forget about the addition and simply enjoy their enhanced size, with an equally appreciative lover. But first she had a job to finish.

"So, Count," Tosaki said and strolled over to the extravagant bed. It was the most frivolous thing she'd seen thus far, shrouded with ornate silks and lace curtains, and large oak posts carved with intricate symbols. She didn't touch it. Less paranoid people had put cursed runes into their belongings. Until he was dead, she wouldn't take her rewards. She leaned against the wall and stared at the foot of the bed, where a quivering mass of elitist shit hid, "You gonna come out on your own?"

"F-fine," he said and crawled out. He was a stick, unlike most nobles that she knew, who gorged themselves on fatty foods until their hearts threatened to give out. Then a mage would come along and keep them alive, so they could keep eating like pigs. Sometimes a good humoured mage would turn them into a pig. Tosaki had done so herself several times.

She thinned her eyes at the Count and sighed. How a man like this commanded such power was appalling. Tall, muscular men with wealthy guts were had presence, this guy was closer to a peasant. He was the Count, however, that was clear from how he carried himself like one.

"If you hold still, this won't hurt," Tosaki said and retrieved a dagger, designed to puncture internal organs. She'd only partly lied, death always hurt without numbing magic, but it was best to soothe a skittish nobleman.

"Like I'll let you!"

Tosaki turned to see him conjuring a curse. She'd missed the traces of magic in his veins, so faint and weak that her conscious mind had ignored it, and now it might come back to bite her. His curse was a frayed thing, a ball of crackling energy that was jagged instead of smooth as a skilled mage could summon. It licked at his clothes, shredding pieces off and leaving his skin charred.

The elf summoned a shield and charged, dagger at the ready. He panicked and launched the curse before it was finished. Horror flashed as it glided through her shielding and struck her. Whatever it was, she wouldn't let him live to enjoy it. Tosaki stabbed the blade deep into his heart and pulled back. Blood fountained as he staggered back and drenched her. Good thing she had spare clothes.

Once his last breath croaked out, she waited. Most curses, in particular ones cast by inexperienced idiots, often activated mere seconds after being cast. A minute passed and she noticed nothing. He must've screwed it up too much. Tosaki sighed and went about arranging the bodies in a more dignified fashion. She paid close attention to the Monster Watchman, affording her some respect after such a fight. The others didn't get nearly so much.

The other assassins died because they were foolish, and the 'elites' weren't much better.

"I'm sorry we had to do this," Tosaki said to the woman's corpse. She snapped the neck back into place and settled her expression into one of peace. What a waste, she thought. The Monster Watchman, despite her name and demeanour beneath the armour, was quite the looker. If the battle could have ended with simple defeat, rather than death, Tosaki might've asked her to go for a drink. These jobs were always wasteful.

Tosaki made a sack out of the Count's bedsheets and loaded up everything of worth. She'd used the curtains to cover the Watchwoman's body. After some searching, she found his vault, filled with jewels and gold coins. She left the former behind for Rive's unfortunate. Once finished, Tosaki heaved her haul back to an inn. She would tell the old man about what happened in the morning. For now, she wanted nothing more than some sleep.

Unfortunately, money can buy loyalty, even to a dead man. Tosaki forced her way back through the mansion, evading or subduing anyone who tried to stop her, though she assumed some were just after her haul. Moonlight illuminated the outside, casting a pale glow across the small wealth of trees behind the building. Deep shadows swayed to a mute song. Tosaki inhaled the cool air, savouring the crispness of the night. Perhaps she would camp out tonight, but the old man had said her stay at the inn would be free. It was the least he could do.

Tosaki sighed and headed back into Rive. The Watchmen were still about, unaware of their employer's fate, so she took the back routes where possible. She dragged her haul into the inn, the River Styx, and secluded herself in her room, where she plopped down on the bed. Regardless of the consequences to her actions today, she would leave tomorrow. That in mind, she stripped and curled up beneath the sheets, and fell asleep soon after.

Several things were responsible for waking her. First was the sunlight flaring through the window and striking her eyelids, second was the viscous squelching that sounded as she rolled over to escape the rays, third was the odd weight that settled on her thigh as she did so. She sat up, brow furrowed tight and her vision bleary, and threw off her sheets. She half expected to find Hayden under them.

But the goblin had left well ahead of her. She knew nobody in town on such a level, and she hadn't welcomed any lovers last night. Then what could be responsible? Her answer was revealed to a low groan.

"So that's what it was," Tosaki pinched the bridge of her nose and stared down at the distinct phallus hanging from her otherwise matronly figure. It was soft for the moment, yet a series of veins mangled the smooth skin, all leading into one another on their way to the head, which was a rich purple tone. As she observed it, a dollop of white seeped from the tip, explaining the mess her sheets had become.

She stood and hissed at the sensations of it moving. Her body had changed in strange, and often fantastical ways before, but always in the throes of passion, often at the point of climax or when her libido reached its limit, and never had they remained after the fact. With the exception of perhaps an additional inch to her chest and butt. They remained as voluptuous as ever, more so after her overflow of magic the night before, unperturbed by the presence of a massive cock. If nothing else, at least it fit into her aesthetic of excess.

It had balls, of course. Two ripe orbs, each too large for her to grip with one hand, and full of the same sludge that saturated the bed. Tosaki sniffed the air. She'd been with men before, and several women with phalli of their own, but none had a scent this potent. It could be the curse, though she suspected her own magic was responsible.

Which meant it had to go. Soon. If her magic had already acclimated and augmented the prick, then it wouldn't be long before her libido was affected as well. Though obscured, she felt her pussy was still in place as her thighs and new testicles brushed against it. Which meant her lusts could double, or worse. The two could feed one another, sustaining an endless cycle of lurid need. Not a chance she wanted to risk.

Tosaki closed her eyes, shutting out the world, and sifted through the labyrinth of knowledge she'd collected over the decades. She came to her collection on curses, though she hadn't heard of one that just gave a woman a penis. There were plenty for changing into the opposite sex. Was it incomplete? If so, then that made it dangerous. Removing it could somehow realise the full curse, and she didn't want to go through turning herself back into a woman. She left her mind and sat back on the bed, ignoring how her night time emissions squelched under her rich derriere.

A series of rapid knocks on the door distracted her. Was it the old man? Come to thank her no doubt, though she had no desire to be seen like this, much less by a complete stranger she held no attraction to. Perhaps if Serena turned up, then she might take advantage of this predicament. She almost slapped herself as her mind emphasised the 'dic' in the word.

"Hang on," Tosaki said and grabbed her clothes. She used a simple glamour to hide the bulge in her shorts and stockings, since her cock was too big to fit inside her once form-fitted pants. It had to be the length of her forearm. Soft. Anyone but herself and she would have jumped them at the sight of it. Even now, with the prospect of a woman outside the door, she felt its desires. Naturally, it messed with her attraction to men. Not that anyone would satisfy her compared to this thing.

"Fuck, it's really getting to my head," Tosaki muttered. Curses were designed to do just that. If they didn't kill, maim or transform you into some abomination, they ruined your mind. This wouldn't do so. It was too rough, missing too many pieces. So long as she didn't accidentally finish its work, then she could handle it. She would handle it.

"Yes?" Tosaki asked as she opened the door. Serena stood in the hallway, radiant in a sundress and nothing else. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but Tosaki believed that this woman had gone sans underwear. Her nipples poked through the fabric after all, and the faint yet potent aroma of a woman drifted through the air. An unwelcome twitch reminded Tosaki to control herself better.

"Richard wanted to thank you," Serena said. She took a breath, then her nostrils flared and she huffed the air, as if it were a drug she'd grown addicted to and gone cold turkey from days prior. Her pupils receded into pinpricks and she swayed, fingers curling into her dress, lifting it higher and inundating Tosaki's own sense in the odour of a moist pussy. Both gulped and stared at the other. Restraint warred with lust, a blizzard against an inferno, a storm crackling against an infallible mountain. Inhibitions fell to the wayside as Tosaki grabbed Serena and pulled in tight.