Creatures of Lust Ch. 02

"My math was off!" she exclaimed defensively. Pummel could tell she wasn't taking this seriously. The glowing runes on her neck were all the clues he needed to understand Demetria wasn't being too rational here.

"We have three zombies. It's a stupid idea."

"Letting the other three run amok is stupider."

"The guards will take care of them," Pummel didn't even hesitate.

"And if another zombie talks? If it remembers just enough to lead them back to the lab?"

That possibility at least gave Pummel pause. He glared at the almanacist once more. Not only had he been bombarded with unwanted bits of trivia, but the talking zombie had also given Demetria a proper argument to go into Astra. Pummel didn't know which of the two was worse. Wordlessly, he trundled his way back to the other side of the wagon. His boss was at least kind enough not to gloat about her victory.

Orgos didn't even need to be told where they were going next. Granted, the fact going to Astra was against Pummel's wishes was perhaps more than enough for the horse to want to do that. The damned beast...

"I've sent you to Astra on a few errands, haven't I?" she remarked.

"Yeah," Pummel's latest defeat had not put him in a conversational mood.

"What was it I needed from there, again?"

"Goat milk. And cheese," he grumbled. These chores felt even less dignified than those that involved theft of macabre things. At least the macabre things went into experiments, which usually meant sex down the line. Dairy products had no such strings attached.

"Fun fact: Astra holds annual competitions for the best goat. Things like weight, health and milk production are factored into picking the winner."

Pummel winced as he heard the almanacist's voice yet again. Of course. Demetria had played no part in his orgasm. This meant the bastard was very much ready for more rounds already. And 'rounds', according to his peculiar pleasure settings, were just bouts of trivia he would dish out whenever he was feeling kinky. As if Pummel needed another reason to despise fun facts.

His mood only went further south once the shabby road made itself felt again. The zombies, much like Pummel, lacked the balance to withstand the endless bumps on the road without holding on to something.

"Yeesh. Bet we all miss good king Lancaster right about now, huh?"

The undead giant only gritted his teeth, not even bothering to glance back at him. His time around a smartass like Demetria had at least given him a proper awareness of the tactics these people employed to steer conversation to their fields of expertise. It was best not to respond.

"King Lancaster III? Known for the great roads he had built? Sure, it's not a barley fact, but still."

Pummel let his eyes swivel pleadingly towards Demetria's. Unsurprisingly, there was only a bemused smirk on her face. He could hardly believe it, but Orgos had somehow become the least insufferable creature in his immediate surroundings.

***

It took about an hour of painful trivia on roads, barley and the history of both for them to get to Astra. Painful for Pummel, that was. Demetria had no qualms with fun facts, especially if someone managed to get some sexual pleasure out of sharing them somehow.

"The peasants are glaring at us," grumbled her henchman.

That much was to be expected. Even if they hadn't pieced together the undeath of the majority of the passengers on the wagon, it was always odd to see so many naked people, to say nothing of Pummel's abnormal size.

"Getting some flashbacks of Gradsk."

"Everything gives you flashbacks of Gradsk," she rolled her silver eyes at him.

Granted, Pummel had a point. A lot of attention, even in a small village, could indeed lead to a disaster. Possibly one that even someone as sanguine as Demetria would have a hard time finding amusing.

"If it assuages your fears, we can cover our passengers up," she said in a sly tone.

"Of course. Only my fears," he snorted sarcastically.

Orgos dragged the wagon behind the local inn. The peasants' curiosity, it seemed, was not yet big enough for them to stop their own routines. Demetria was quick to make use of their little time away from prying eyes. She opened a small portal and pushed a hand into the darkness. With one swift motion, the ethereal woman produced a large blanket from the depths of another realm.

"Remarkable," declared Reginald. "You, madam, seem to be among the few people capable of tapping into other dimensions. There was a prominent theory that-"

Pummel took the liberty of covering the three zombies up before he was done sharing his facts.

"We'd better hurry," he declared.

"That was not very nice," she smirked. "What if I wanted to know about that theory concerning other dimensions?"

"You would have read about it in your spare time," grunted her henchman. "If you don't know it already."

She laughed. It was hard to stay mad at Pummel, even during his grumpier days. She tried to get a whiff of the air-

"Where are they?"

"Impatient today, aren't you?" Demetria smirked.

"Yes," he stated plainly. "Obviously."

"Alright," she pursed her lips. Pummel's straightforwardness had a way of ruining the fun of teasing quite quickly. "I think I'm getting something."

"Zombies?"

"Something," she repeated with a mischievous grin.

"It should be zombies," her henchman insisted sourly.

Demetria whiffed again. She could feel a vestige of her concoction in the air. Multiple trails, not all of them leading back to their wagon. But of course, Pummel didn't have to know that. Why spoil the fun? She leaned forward and began her stride in pursuit of the scent. This once, it would be best to use her legs. An immaterial sort of running would be hard to explain to the average peasant. Her assistant's heavy footsteps trampled after her.

The scent took them to a barn that was, if you were keen on euphemisms, falling apart. Its two large doors had already fallen off, and nobody had even bothered to drag them away from there. The lack of animal smells nearby was as good an indicator of the place's abandonment as its decrepit state.

"In there?" Pummel was a master of judgmental-sounding short questions.

"So it seems."

Demetria hardly needed to peer inside to see the first zombie, shambling aimlessly. It wasn't like the rotting boards were doing a good job at keeping the sunlight out of the barn. Just as she took the first few steps inside the building, she found the second one. This one seemed awfully keen on peering inside a barrel that was just as damaged as the barn that housed it. Despite the hardness of their shafts, the two undead were doing something so far from fun their creator had a hard time voicing her disappointment.

"So that's it? They just holed themselves up in this dump?"

"Better than being torn apart by the guards," chuckled Pummel.

Demetria didn't doubt for a second he was quite happy with this disappointing outcome. Pummel was a grey cloud on a parade day given a mind and body of its own. Before she could even mutter something about there still being a third zombie, her henchman buried his hands in a stack of hay. With a rough pull, the third zombie was dragged out of his hiding place.

"And at least none of them talk," grumbled the undead giant.

By now, it was impossible that they hadn't all noticed Demetria. And their collective lack of interest was bizarre, to say the least. There they were, all three of them clearly horny, and not one was shambling towards the curvaceous, pale woman that had just walked in.

"They're looking for something," she concluded.

"A secret orgy?" there was a thin smile on Pummel's lips as he mocked her.

"You are one cruel underling," scoffed Demetria.

Her silver eyes trailed upwards, and immediately she worked out what had all three of her zombies trapped in that barn. On the second floor, peering frightfully between the floorboards, a young woman was quiet as a mouse. No doubt, the three undead men had chased after her, but their lust-addled brains had clearly been no match for the challenge of looking up. Not that they could do much now, anyway. The ladder she'd used to climb up there was now little more than multiple pieces of rotting wood scattered on the floor.

"I knew they weren't all as boring as that," she smirked.

"What? Oh," Pummel stared at the girl, who still refused to move from her hiding place. After a long pause, he spoke again. "So should I kill them?"

"I had almost forgotten that solution was available," Demetria cast Pummel a withering glare.

Before her henchman could reply, she snapped her fingers. As one, the three zombies seemed to finally acknowledge her existence. The twitching of their members suggested they liked what they saw.

"About time," she smirked, letting her jacket fall to the ground.

"What about her?" Pummel's mismatched blue eyes hadn't stopped staring at the frightened girl.

"She can enjoy the show, can't she?"

By now, the zombies were already very much on top of her. Demetria found herself surrounded on all sides by her creations. The one behind her was quick to put a hand on her nether regions, trying to find a way to part her from her trousers. Inexpertly, if she might add.

The other two eagerly pawed at her bodice, trying to pry it open so they could set her upper body free. Even with the piece of clothing set looser after she'd toyed with Pummel, the two undead could only take it off her with brute force. Her large, pale breasts did not jiggle freely for very long. Demetria immediately felt the runes around her neck heating up as each zombie in front of her took a tit and started sucking on its nipple.

She hurried to unzip her trousers. No doubt her pets were desperate for release. Immediately, she felt the tip of the zombie behind her, poking her butt with deliberate intent. His two hands, too, were already on her hips.

"So eager..." she purred. "And so selfish..."

After sucking in some air, Demetria pushed the two zombies away from her breasts and fell on her knees. She let her eyes dart between the three erect cocks that now surrounded her. The rune heat was already slowly cascading down her back.

"This is an egalitarian way to have sex," Demetria said with a teacher-like tone. "And speaking of which..."

Her silver eyes slowly trailed back to Pummel, who was still staring and frowning at the girl upstairs.

"Are you joining us, Pummel, dear?"

"Too many cocks," he replied promptly.

Demetria had to laugh at his bluntness.

"I very much disagree," she bit her lip.

Before she could choose which zombie to pleasure first, one of them grabbed her head and pulled her towards him. Deliberately, she did not resist. Her lips parted ways just in time for her creation's cock to slide down into her throat. Feeling a single throb inside her mouth was enough for her to tell these zombies were particularly eager. Most men would probably kill to ever get as hard as that zombie.

The undead man only grunted as his hands vigorously tugged at Demetria's hair. Whatever his profession had been in life, he had done it roughly. Demetria quickly felt the other two cocks poking her in both sides of her face. Her hands, now with the runes around the wrists sparkling purple, quickly attended to their needs with timely strokes.

She could already feel the heat of the rune behind her neck. Maybe even the one underneath it. Even with runes measuring her arousal, Demetria herself had a hard time guessing how horny she was, at least from a purely mathematical stance. Pummel, for all his grumpiness, did seem quite happy to always tell Demetria exactly where she was on matters of runic countdowns. At least when he was participating instead of sulking in the corner. Which reminded her:

"Are you sure you're not joining in, Pummel?" she managed to free her lips long enough to ask.

She could hardly say another word, as the zombie in front of her quickly slid his cock back into her mouth. She could also hardly tell there was no reply, what with there being three men surrounding her, all of them eager to use her for their pleasure. With the intense purple glow gradually filling out her runes, Demetria's pleasure was such she couldn't even tell Pummel was no longer in the barn.

***

Lying gently in his arms, the girl proved to be surprisingly cooperative. Granted, she'd willingly chosen to jump into them back at the barn. By the looks of things, it had been a very difficult choice for her.

He knew well enough that most humans were a lot more averse to outdoors sex than Demetria. To say nothing of Demetria's endless lust for just about anything that could have sex with her. Humans weren't like that. Or at least, most of them were not. Humans had types, orientations, and all other manners of restrictions on how they enjoyed sex. Pummel himself was partial to women, but he didn't doubt for a second Demetria had made that choice for him long before he even came to life. Chances were, however, that even if the peasant girl liked men, she would probably prefer them alive and healthy. Not that Demetria or her pets had seemed particularly concerned about such trivialities, of course.

He could guess the moment it became apparent his boss was about to get pounded by the zombies was the exact moment he - the fully clothed, stitched together abomination - became a preferrable choice of company for the girl.

And the girl was pretty. Not as beautiful as Demetria, of course, but Pummel also knew peasants were not usually able to shapeshift to look as enticing as possible. A girl with freckles, hazel eyes and long, chestnut hair like this one would probably be quite the catch when all your options were limited by the bodies they had started life with.

"Where are you taking me?"

She spoke. Right. Pummel had almost forgotten peasant women could also do that. He glanced back at the abandoned barn. They were far enough from it by now. He shrugged mentally, before putting her back on the ground.

"Nowhere. You saw nothing," he grumbled.

She immediately backed away from him, keeping her eyes on him the whole time.

"You can go," he told her, already losing his patience. "But you saw nothing."

He didn't like how she only dashed away. Pummel didn't expect proper thanks from most people. Even Demetria sometimes slipped in the gratitude department, which was far more frustrating than any lowly human doing it. But it was annoying how the girl hadn't even confirmed that she would keep what she had seen a secret. Pummel had half a mind to chase after her, if not for the fact that doing so would turn this trip into another Gradsk for certain.

"Nothing!" he still roared, just as the girl scurried off into some alley.

***

Demetria's runes were already burning her skin. She couldn't think about much besides the heat and the pleasure. The runes around her neck were searing her in such a way it felt as if she had a warm chain tightening and strangling her. If she put in a lot of effort, she could just barely conceptualize Pummel's absence, and little else.

The other zombies had already grown tired of using her hands only. One slipped right underneath her, placing the ethereal woman neatly on top of his member. She could hardly have been more welcoming. Wet and sweaty, it was as easy for the zombie to slide inside her as it had been for him to place himself between Demetria's thighs.

The second zombie, too, opted to change positions. Demetria only felt his hands on her waist, and then a sudden intrusion in her anus. The pleasure was so sudden and intense she is quite certain the third rune down her back immediately flared up.

With three cocks inside her, Demetria's temperature was quickly spiraling out of control. Her hands, leaning on the waist of the zombie that was pumping into her mouth, were already painted purple by the intense light of the runes on her wrists. With every thrust into her mouth, Demetria could see steam rising from her breath. Occasionally, when the zombie pulled out of her more roughly, thick strings of drool would rain down on her bouncing breasts. And the heat was such, her own saliva would be evaporating before they were done.

With every pull from the zombie in front of her, Demetria would find her nose slammed into the zombie's abdomen. Her hands had grown so sweaty she could hardly hold on to his waist now. Instead, she was letting the three pairs of hands on her decide how her body moved. Her three lovers were far from coordinated, but the pleasure of having three holes filled was such she could hardly even focus on what rhythm would have been ideal either way.

Eventually, the zombie using her mouth hurried his pace. Suddenly, Demetria was facing upwards, her head held in place by the zombie's hands. By squatting repeatedly, the undead man would bring his cock downwards, effectively pumping even harder into her unresisting throat. The rhythm alone was enough of a hint: the first zombie was reaching his climax.

She only closed her eyes and lowered her arms. The final thrust came with a groan from the zombie, along with a pause of a second before he pulled out of her mouth for the last time with a satisfying 'pop!'. Her eyes could hardly focus before the first load crashed into her face. His seed flew into her cheek, her forehead and her tongue. All Demetria could do, as it all happened, was let out an airless chuckle. She couldn't even stop her mouth from hanging open, nor the cum from dripping off the tip of her tongue.

The closest thing she had to a coherent thought amidst all this pleasure was a very basic kind of sadness. In short, Demetria regretted Pummel's absence: he could have been making this even more fun for her. Where he could be was a question she now lacked the rationality to ask.

***

"And those are just the physical advantages of consuming barley! We haven't even tapped into the spiritual yet."

"What the hell is going on here?"

Pummel had walked into Reginald peering out of the wagon's cover. Judging by the looks of the peasant that was listening to him, chances were a lot of the words coming from the zombie's mouth were being wasted.

"Ah, my chaperone! I was just telling our new friend here the many reasons to incorporate barley into one's diet."

"I didn't give you permission," he declared sourly.

"Well," Reginald put on a smug look. "I know an enquiring mind when I see one! Surely you understand?"

Pummel glanced at the peasant again. The man had his mouth hanging open, and his expression was far too vacant for it to mean he was simply shocked with the barley facts he was hearing. To say nothing of his uneven eyes, busted nose and overall dimwitted slouch. The only enquiry a man like this would ever ask would be whether his lord would return him home after the next big war.

"I do not. Shut up and go back under the covers."

"Why does that man have grey skin?" the man narrowed his eyes. "Hey... Why do you have grey skin too, big fella? And what's with your eyes?"

"I was raised by a blacksmith," Pummel retorted harshly.

The peasant nodded. The undead giant was just the right size to make any harsh words a fitting reply that would not warrant that much critical thinking. If a big, scary man with stitches told you his eyes were weird because he was raised by a blacksmith, your brain would probably do the heavy lifting and ensure that reply worked out for you.

Already under the covers again, Reginald's muffled voice made itself heard again.

"Can I just say one more barley fact? I'm really, really close."

"No," Pummel had never spoken so quickly in his life.

There was a long moment of silence as the peasant and Pummel kept staring awkwardly at one another.