tagSci-Fi & FantasyDesecration of a Living Saint Ch. 02

Desecration of a Living Saint Ch. 02


The alarm came early the next morning, just as the sun was edging its way over the foothills. Sister Augustine rose slowly, stretching her surprisingly well-rested muscles as she lifted herself out of her bed.

As footsteps thundered passed her door she looked down in dismay at the mess between her legs, dried juices clinging to her hair and thighs from the night's torment. Reaching for the bowl of water, which still rested at the foot of the bed, she quickly started to wash away the signs of sin, but as her fingers touched her crotch she felt an echo of the stranger's touch and quickly pulled away.

She was still sensitive, even after a night's unsettled sleep, and even the touch of the water was enough to cause her labia to throb. Carefully she dressed herself in her armour, making sure to pad her crotch to ensure she would not be distracted during the battle, before making her way out into the corridor.

Almost immediately troops surrounded her, "What are our orders? Where do we go? What should we do?" Holding her hands up she quietened them all, trying to seem serene and in control even as her body began to whisper to her.

"It's the same drill as yesterday, we hold the line." Sister Augustine intoned, her voice heavy and inspiring, "They couldn't break us then, and they won't today."

A cheer went up through the crowd and the soldiers continued on their way, their steps seeming just a little lighter for having heard her words.

Making her own way through the throng Sister Augustine found her way up to the battlements where she could oversee the path leading up from the valley. The first wave of daemons were already close, their wild cries and guttural moans echoing off the mountainside.

Turning away Sister Augustine surveyed her forces and was happy to see almost every soldier at their post, the only ones missing those too severely injured to fight on the frontline. It was a good sign that there had been no desertions in the night, morale was high and the soldiers prepared to do their duty.

The time had come, "Archers..." Sister Augustine cried as she raised her arm and paused, waiting just long enough to ensure the full body were ready before swinging it down, "Loose!"

Azul was not happy as he watched the battle, which seemed as much a repeat of the previous day as every other sally he'd launched. Turning to his attendant, who flinched away from his master's angry glare, he asked, "Have we heard from our guest? She said this problem would be solved by this morning."

The attendant cleared his throat noisily as he tried to prepare his reply, "Mi'lord, she said our troops would be needed, not that victory would be ours. Perhaps this is merely part of a larger plan?"

For a moment Azul's glare bore into his underling, who sweated and twitched while awaiting the inevitable beating which was to come. Turning away sharply Azul strode towards the map table which had been set up beside his throne. "You're right," He boomed to the relieved attendant, "She's the Overlords' agent, not mine, and it's quite possible she was sent here by them not to help, but to ensure my defeat."

Staring down at the map Azul quickly counted up the markers identifying his forces, which daemons had been summoned, which held loyalty purely to him and which had been loaned to him by other necromancers, sorcerers and mages across the kingdoms. Carefully he began to rearrange the pieces, moving some to the flanks and others to reserve until finally calling for his attendant.

"I want to ensure our survival should anything... untoward occur. Have my forces redeploy at once, bring them home, to recover from their injuries. Replace them on the front with the reserves and order them to press the attack to the last." He said, his words carefully chosen so no record of any disloyalty could be made.

"Mi'lord, that may leave the reserve inadequate should we need them." The attendant responded, buoyed by his earlier success.

Before he could react Azul's hand was around the attendant's throat, fingers squeezing tightly. "I know that, you fool." He spat in the underlings face. "But this battle must be won soon; otherwise I may lose my place in the Alliance. And if that happens I may become the next target."

Suddenly Azul's face changed, a flash of fear dancing across it for a moment as he realised he'd said too much, and perhaps damned himself in the process. Throwing the attendant to the floor Azul waved over one of the scantily clad female slaves littering the tent. "Did you hear my orders?"

The slave's eyes darted between Azul, the attendant and the map board for a moment, unsure if this was some kind of test or trap as she tried to decide what answer her master wanted. "Yes..." she answer uncertainly, her body preparing to run should it be wrong.

"And anything else?" Azul pressed, his gaze locked steadily on the girl as he watched her carefully.

Looking down at the attendant the slave knew for certain what was wanted. "No, mi'lord. Nothing more."

"Good." Azul said, slamming his hand palm down over the attendant's body. The effect was immediate, as if stepped on by a giant the attendant was crushed into the ground, his bones snapping and twisting. "Be sure to have those robes cleaned before you return wearing them."

On the battlements Sister Augustine watched the flow of the forces below. Something was happening with the enemy and she wasn't sure what. Troops seemed to be pulling away from the fight and not re-engaging with her troops.

Part of her cautioned to prepare for a large-scale attack, but every time she closed her eyes all she could think of was a soft, moaning voice whispering in her ear and the touch of gentle fingers.

Unable to concentrate she dismissed the idea, so far the enemy had shown no sign of tactical brilliance, simply relying on brute strength and overwhelming numbers to try and grind her forces down. There was no reason to believe that this was any different, and the only reason the enemy would be disengaging would be to retreat.

"To arms! Prepare to counter!" She called, bringing her reserve soldiers to the ready. If they were retreating this was an opportunity to injure them gravely.

Turning to her second Sister Augustine smiled, "We may yet win this." She said happily. "I'll take the lead."

Moving off the battlements Sister Augustine quickly made her way down to the courtyard to where her horse had already been prepared for her. Along with the other mounted guard she took up position behind the gates before giving the signal for them to be opened.

The charge slammed hard into the enemy lines, ripping apart the smaller daemons beneath iron-clad hooves while the cavalry cleaved own their larger companions with ease. At the fore Sister Augustine gloried in the exhilaration, her blood pumping hard as she carved her way through her foes.

It wasn't until they cleared the front line that she caught sight of the enemy rear guard advancing. The mighty ogres dwarfed even the mounted troops and as she watched one grabbed hold of a horse and rider with one hand and flung him own into the valley below.

"Fall back! Fall back!" She cried, calling to the cavalry to return but for some it was too late, the ogres were already upon them. With her force in disarray Sister Augustine soon found herself surrounded by daemons, their hands grasping at her legs as she swung her blade again and again, hacking heads and arms with each stroke.

She had no idea where the spear came from, only that it was suddenly in front of her, its tip pulling her mount's spine up through its neck as it reached for her. Throwing herself aside Sister Augustine launched herself from the saddle as the daemons pulled the brave horse into the dirt to be torn apart by talons and teeth.

With foul beasts closing in Sister Augustine steeled herself for combat, her blade held firmly in her hand and her will unbroken, but just as she thought the horde would charge a loud bellow was heard across the cacophony of the battle. Behind the daemons strode one of the ogres, biting the head off a captured soldier as he stared at Augustine with pure animal hatred.

The rest of the daemons seemed to know that the giant wanted the Living Saint for himself and even as she lashed out at them with her sword they backed away, keeping her trapped but alive as the ogre grew ever closer. Glancing around Sister Augustine tried to think of a way to escape until her eyes fell on her dead horse.

The daemons seemed unafraid or her approaching the cooling corpse, knowing that she wouldn't be able to use the beast to escape from them even if it had been alive. Sister Augustine wasn't thinking of escape now though, she had something else in mind.

Grasping the thick shaft of the spear still lodged in her horse's throat she braced her foot against the saddle and pulled with all her might. As she strained against the suction of the corpse's thickening body fluids she could hear the steady pounding of the ogre's footsteps, growing ever louder as it closed in. Undaunted she pulled harder until finally the spear began to move.

The ogre seemed surprised when the Living Saint, trapped and overpowered, charged towards him and as the spear plunged into his chest he rocked backwards, barely staying on his feet. Sister Augustine wasn't finished yet and using the spear as a springboard she leapt up to grab one of the ogre's horns before plunging her blade into its eye socket until her hand vanished into the beast's skull.

Jumping clear before the ogre collapsed into the mud Sister Augustine scooped up two swords which lay discarded in the blood and muck before laying into the closest daemon with all her might.

She wasn't sure how long it took to fight her way back to the abbey, but by the time she did Sister Augustine was exhausted both physically and spiritually. Coated with daemonic filth and ichor she collapsed through the gate as it was slammed shut behind her.

Falling into one of the soldier's arms she grab him by the collar, pulling his face close. "How many?" She panted, barely able to speak.

"I dunno, ma'am. You certainly killed a fair few." The soldier replied, staring back out over the battle field.

"No," Sister Augustine breathed, "How many made it back?"

The soldier looked down at her with a warm smile. "Almost all of them, ma'am. We lost over a dozen horses, but only four or five of the riders went with them. The enemy seemed more concerned with you than any of the others."

"Good." Sister Augustine replied simply, before collapsing into a deep sleep.

The dream came slowly, drifting up through the darkness of sleep like a mist blowing in from over the ocean. At first it was just a memory of a sensation; the touch of fingers, the pumping of blood, the sparks of stimulation, but it slowly grew.

Augustine could feel the woman's lips on hers as hands caressed her body. Fingers stroked every inch of her, teasing and taunting her, making promises of pleasure to come before pulling away.

She had no idea how long it went on for, much like the blood and torment of the battle, but this battle was one she didn't want to win since victory would mean an end to the rapturous pleasure.

As she drifted awake the sensations became more real, the pleasures deeper and more overwhelming until the final crashing wave overcame her, exploding inside her and blasting her awake.

It took a moment for her to recognise her cell, the bare walls seeming strangely distant and surreal as she lay naked on her bed. Her armour had been cleaned and was laid on top of her chest where she normally kept it and her sword, or at least an identical replacement to the one she'd left lodged in the ogre's skull, lay beside it ready to be used.

Looking down at herself Augustine admired her hard, athletic body. Her femininity was in no way diminished by her well-toned muscles and her full, high breasts seemed ready for a lover's touch. Between her legs the sheets were soaked with her juices, as though a great torrent had burst from inside her, something which made her feel proud and excited in equal measure.

Suddenly Sister Augustine realised her thoughts seemed wrong, out of place and foreign, as if they were being thought through her rather than by her. Shocked and appalled she reached gown for the nightgown which lay discarded on the floor beside the bed and quickly pulled it on, smoothing it over her body as she step of the bed and moved to the water jug.

Filling the washing bowl Sister Augustine splashed her face and rubbed cool water into her eyes as she looked out of the window at the valley below. She used to love the view, a reminder of the wonder of God's creation, but now the landscape had been twisted and corrupted by the daemonic horde. The opposite hillside, once a flowing green forest, now was covered with fire pits and eldritch glows which showed sign of the foul magics and blasphemies being committed by the sinful creatures and their allies.

As she looked out, contemplating the sins being committed, Augustine felt her heart beat a little faster, her pussy warming once more. "You like that, don't you?" Came the whisper, the silken sweet voice which haunted her dreams.

Spinning around Sister Augustine scanned the room for the woman, but she was alone and there was nowhere anyone could've been hiding in the tiny cell. Shaking herself Sister Augustine turned back to the wash bowl, this time plunging her head into the cool water before tossing her head back with a sigh.

"Just a dream, you're just not fully awake yet. That's all." She told herself, fervently hoping it was true.


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