Kingdom Come

Sister Einaudi insulated herself as much in the shadow as possible, and had restrained with all her might to sob at the new Sister Darrow. The old one was so kind and generous, ran charities for orphans and gave aid to the weak and helpless, of which there were plenty after the barbarian invasion in years past. This one...was so indecent! As she rose up, she left her habit ripped open, scarcely covering her massive, pouting breasts, but just enough to tempt her future conquests to part the black cotton folds and be overcome by the succulent feminine splendor that was just aching to spill out. She had also torn away the patch of cloth covering her bottom, leaving her round, full cheeks to bounce in the open air.

She stilled herself as much as she could as the two began to walk away, before they stopped, looking at each other with knowing grins. Then Sister Darrow turned around, leaning her ear in Einaudi's direction, as if hearing the woman's thundering heartbeat. "She is there sister! Grab her and give her a taste of liberation!" she pointed directly at Einaudi, her face alight with wanton lust. "Give her the gift of sin!"

Sister Einaudi leapt off the ground with agility that surprised even herself, fear lending wind to her feet. She heard the snarling of her bounding attacker and grunted in pain when she felt herself slammed into the stone floor. The maiden turned her over, pulling away Einaudi's undergarments and bringing her own engorged womanhood to bear, her lips slavering like some hungry beast.

Einaudi screamed in protest as Sister Darrow came up behind the fallen woman, leaning forward and allowing her perfectly shaped breasts to graze and slide against the insatiable maiden's face. Darrow's face broke into a smile, relishing her lover's gentle touch as her tongue flicked upon her soft flesh, leaving a trail of her saliva along the halos that were her areolas. All the while, the maiden had thrust closer and closer to Einaudi's pussy, before their labia lips connected and suctioned against each other.

Einaudi's limbs tensed for a second as she felt her assailant secure on to her, while Darrow kept the maiden's face pressed into the sensual expanse of her pale cleavage. She ran her fingers through her hair as she looked down on her older, more aged Sister. "You are about to experience the Maiden's Kiss, Sister. It will be the most beautiful-" Einaudi cried out as a new, perverse sensation assaulted her pussy. "Ah yes, that's to keep you from running..." A small, motile tendril extended from the maiden's pussy and fastened itself to her womanhood, pinning her down with pleasure as it solidified its connection.

As Einaudi writhed and twitched on the floor, Darrow let go of the maiden's face and strummed her leaking pussy, sinking her fingers into the welcoming softness of her pillowy chest as she tweaked her nipples. "You will love this feeling, of having a mistress...to hear her voice in your head, knowing she grows more powerful by the moment...soon we will be sisters again..."

"It is glorious!" agreed the maiden, running her clammy hands around Einaudi's face. "So old, so tired and so barren...you will be like us, young and beautiful forever!" Sister Einaudi had nearly lost her mind with fear, little more than a babbling mass of crying, fearful flesh, each taunting word from the temptresses bringing out a new sob.

The maiden's skin began to perspire as a slight heat wave rose off her back. Little bubbles of moisture began to collect around her round tits. Engorged with unholy vitality, her heavy mounds were eager to be felt or sucked upon, ready to pour their sinful cargo down the throats of the innocent.

Sister Darrow ran her fingers through the maiden's sleek hair. "It begins Einaudi...become one with her...cherish her sacred touch..." Other corrupted nuns began to huddle in the shadows, their evil eyes glowing in the darkness as they chanted the downfall of the righteous woman.

Einaudi wept at the inevitability of her defilement, while the maiden kept her head in the air, taking in a deep breath as she felt a torrent of her hot, dark essence rush down her body, about to be flooded into the nun's vulnerable womb. The maiden twitched with the excitement of enslaving another, as a string of drool dangled between her hanging melons, her mouth filling up with the erotic venom that would spew down Einaudi's throat.

Just then, as the maiden hovered right above the nun's struggling face, a patch of the granite ceiling crumbled down in a shower of stone, a finger of light pouring through the darkness as two Paladins tumbled into the rubble. With a book in one broken arm, and a sword in another, limped the proud form of Joran Baird. Seeing the pinned body of Sister Einaudi, Joran made a swinging motion at frightening speed, decapitating the writhing maiden in one motion.

Sister Einaudi sobbed in joy, she was saved! She pushed the twitching form of her attacker off as she checked her sacred spot, making sure not a drop of the maiden's foul fluid had touched her, and sighed with relief, all while Joran boomed his litany into the catacombs. "Suffer not the witch to live! Come ye heretics, face the light of the righteous!"

Roggor, his fellow Paladin, bumped him on the soldier. "Aye, I'll drink to that laddy!"

Joran looked at him askance, not changing the baritone pitch of his voice. "WE DO NOT DRINK BROTHER!"

"Right!" affirmed Roggor, as he clobbered down on the demonic soldiers that had accompanied their fall. Joran limped over to Sister Einaudi, lending her a hand up, grateful that not all of the nuns had been corrupted. He afforded her the rarity of a comforting smile, before immediately hardening into stoic resolve.

"Are you well, Sister?"

She was dazed, and caught a glimpse of a snarling Sister Darrow melting into the shadows, along with her other turned Sisters. A moment too late and she would have been running with them. "Yes...I thin-"

"Good." he interrupted, beckoning Roggor over as he finished off the stragglers. "We must get to the royal family and ensure the continuance of their line. The Black Knight walks among our enemy, and will surely be on their trail."

"Who's that?"

"Big huge fucker." said Roggor, finally caught up with the two.

Joran looked at him like a stern parent. "Brother, language."

"Sorry."

Joran whispered a benediction to his sword, letting it glow with piercing, holy light. "Our light grants us to tread on the unrighteous and impious alike." Shadows melted before his illumination, followed by the sibilant hisses of the corrupted Sisters. "Come, there is an old path, an ancient path, that will take us to the palace."

The three made their way through the catacombs, the shadows of their stalkers swirling among them like a mist, watching and waiting, for within Sister Einaudi...something foul bided its time...preparing for the right moment to reveal itself...

***

Sister Einaudi, with Joran and Roggor, greeted the fresh air of the Royal Palace with smiles and good cheer. They had picked up a group of hastily assembled palace servants, now armed with pitchforks and daggers, ready to beat down any who stood in their way.

As Joran and Roggor forged on, they left Sister Einaudi and the group of refugees with her in an abandoned dining room, thinking her best suited for tending to the needy while they tended to the violence. Sister Einaudi was grateful for her reprieve, having not the heart for bloodshed, but something did not sit well with her.

She staggered and nearly fell down, catching herself on the edge of an oak table, nearly knocking over some candles as a rescued chamber maid, Evelyn, came to her aid. "Sister Einaudi! Are you ill!?"

Einaudi offered a weak smile, as perspiration began to form on her forehead. "No, no, I'm quite alright, but thank you dear." Evelyn helped her up, just as the rest of the crowd spared her a brief look before returning to their conversations. "I just feel a little...hot. Perhaps too much excitement for one night..."

Evelyn held her hand as the two walked away from the crowd, supporting her fragile body as she regained her strength. "I can imagine, miss. I think there is a washroom down the hall, I'll keep watch until you feel better." The chamber maid placed her hand on her shoulder. "I think some cold, fresh water would do you a world of good."

Sister Einaudi gave her a smile, unused to others caring for her. "Thank you dear, I won't impose too much on your time." She turned away, thinking that in another lifetime, Evelyn would have made a good nun.

She limped into the washroom, feeling more strange...and yet more pleasant than ever before. Plentiful torchlight gave her a clear view of herself in the nearby mirror. Nothing too amiss...there was a certain gleam to her skin, probably just the sweat from her adventures but oddly...the tingling pleasures in her body had magnified since she had come into the washroom, as if she was meant to be alone...

When she turned away and thought of leaving, the pleasure lessened, so she stayed where she was, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room. Short breaths rasped out of her mouth as she realized she was paralyzed by the foreign sensations and the forbidden feelings they created. A new terror bloomed in her soul as she found her body moving on its own, slowly turning back to the mirror. She gasped as she realized her wrinkles and crows feet were smoothing away, her skin tightening and becoming more supple as a youthful glow began to spark into her cheeks.

She knew what this was and what it meant for her. Somehow, she had been 'touched'. "No...no...my lord...save me..." she cried as she slumped down onto the smooth floor, feeling a warm, thrilling sensation around her breasts as her chest slowly expanded and blossomed under her habit. She moaned in forbidden pleasure, and it was not in the hoarse tones of middle age but the honeyed notes of exquisite youth, feeling her breasts grow heavy and full, perking up into full arousal as her nipples pointed through her habit.

She writhed in ecstasy, feeling her back muscles strengthen and develop, ready to carry her new, luscious endowments as the beginnings of evil began to twist its way through her. How could this be, she thought, as an orgasm sent her back arching and her toes curling. She was saved! Not a drop in her...then it came to her. The maiden's tendril. Somehow it had burrowed inside her when the evil harlot was torn off, slowly subverting her body and soul to Morgana's cause as the hours passed, coalescing together to form a seed of evil.

"I-I can't...our lord and father...may you always...unnngh...grant me strengthhh..." Her voice trailed off after a dark weight smothered her thoughts, a shadow of a whisper at the fringes of her mind. She prayed that it wasn't too late, that she could somehow turn the clock back and be rid of indecent, sinful youth and corrupting beauty, before her spirit followed in turn.

But it was too late, the seed had awakened, spreading its foul roots through her as it reached out to her mind. She felt arousal burn through her blood, hearing a seductive, feminine voice whisper thoughts and prophecies of betrayal, urging her to join a higher cause...a more noble cause. She ripped open her habit, letting her bulging tits spring free, leaping forward into the warm air as she gyrated along the tile, her ripe melons swaying to her orgasmic contractions. "Oh...no...can't take it...yes..yesss...I need it!" She felt overpowering evil slam into her helpless mind, birthing insatiable lusts and unspeakable evils into her battered soul, filling every fiber of her being with mind melting ecstasy.

Her fingernails scrambled for purchase on the tile floor as they curled to her euphoria, her expanding breasts wobbling and swaying to her cries of bliss as sleek, glistening thighs peeked from under her habit, sliding against the damp floor. The darkness was too eager to penetrate her, and she was too eager for pleasure she had never felt before, the fatal combination sealing her fate and ensuring her fall.

"Make me yours mistress! I forsake His Holiness and embrace only you!" at her renouncing of her faith she felt a dam of sexual pleasure burst, washing entwined feelings of carnal bliss and subservience to Morgana through her soul, her deep and powerful orgasm a reward for her obedience.

She bit her lips, stifling her screams of pleasure as the last of her mental defenses were swept away, letting her surrender to the darkness that had come for her soul. Her fingers sank into and kneaded the soft swells of her giant breasts, as her voluptuous buttocks bounced and squeezed against the floor with each bucking, lustful thrust, all the while one climax after another wracked her body, shattering her will and enslaving her forever. Her taut belly strained and tensed to her chain of orgasms, undulating like an erotic dancer as waves of bliss washed through her, her formerly pure self unused to the broiling fount of lust that bubbled within her blackened soul.

The pleasure was too much, for after her final release, she blacked out, her convulsing body relaxing into serene stillness. A pleasure filled gasp escaped her lips as she resigned to the evil within, letting it exert its dominance as it reformed her, making her will its own while her body finished remolding itself. Her breasts were free to ripen more without her struggling, the pronounced swells of her bosom shifting into pouting, milky white mounds, her moist and firm skin giving them a golden hue in the firelight.

A gurgled moan tumbled from her mouth as a crown of horns rose from her head, her tossing and turning at an end as the darkness had finally finished burning her virtuous spirit away in the consuming fires of pleasure. A soft sigh of ecstasy peeped from her lips as her mouth curled into an evil smile. Sister Einaudi was no more.

***

Joran and Roggor brought their weapons down on more violet eyed converts, unfortunate members of the Royal Palace who did not have the good fortune to make an escape, little more than zombies under Morgana's thrall. Although, zombies would be better, Joran thought, being much easier to kill when you didn't think of them as people, these poor devils screamed and bled just like anyone else.

The Paladins kicked down the doors to the royal quarters, pleased to find at least some of the royal family intact. Prince Veros had his sword drawn, his sister, Princess Eva behind him while a squirrel of a man huddled behind a chair, Marlowe Dreville, Karnor's advisor.

"Where is Prince Hektos?" said Joran, his commanding gaze pointed straight at Veros.

Prince Veros regarded the two men wearily, checking for any signs of corruption before he spoke up. "He's...he's fighting the Black Knight."

Joran shared a glance with Roggor before stepping forward. "Then let's go."

"What...why? He'll be here!"

Joran shook his head. "No my gracious lord, he is either dead or soon to be. Come, it is our duty to ensure your survival. You too Princess Eva."

Roggor regarded the Princess hungrily, the sole daughter of the royal family having inherited her mother's coppery skin and exotic good looks. Her hair was a smooth, polished black, complimenting the vivid orange, figure clinging gown that graced her body. Her breasts flowed and shook like mahogany orbs within her low cut dress, it's plunging v-shape cut offering only a glimpse at the rounded, upper mounds of her shapely bosom.

Joran grabbed him by the chin. "Eyes on the mission, brother."

Roggor smiled back, slinging his blade over his shoulder. "Oh they're definitely on the mission..."

Joran's face grew more stern, were it even possible, and moved in front of the Paladin, blocking his view. "This is no time for jests. We are strong precisely because we do not indulge in the pleasures of the flesh."

"That is why you are weak!" boomed a deep voice across the room. Joran shuddered. He had become well acquainted with that voice over the course of the night. The Black Knight filled the doorway, with a cadre of corrupted palace servants, demonic warriors, witches and nuns at his heel.

Joran turned around, bringing his weapon to bear. He gulped when he saw Sister Einaudi among their ranks, looking decades younger, resembling a lewd maiden more than a woman of faith. Her burgeoning mounds pointed threateningly, as the round mountains of her breasts kept a tenuous hold on her shredded habit, more than a breeze would leave the temptress's succulent curves exposed.

He thought she was saved...how could she? He was broken out of his thoughts as a bounding shadow leapt from the corner of his vision, taking him down with surprising strength.

Marlowe Dreville quaked in his boots as he saw the noble Paladin taken down. These creatures were always so good at that. He took a double-take when he realized it was Evelyn! She was such a normal, plain girl and now...totally unrecognizable as she smothered his angry face into her plump breasts, the smooth skin of her tits glistening in a burnished, sweaty sheen, her own internal lusts threatening to incinerate her if she did not vent her corruption into another.

Even as the rest of the unholy horde slowly walked in, a sea of shaking breasts, sculpted thighs and swaying hips, Marlowe realized he had always been a traitor. From when he told his abusive father that his brother was stealing cookies, or to when he let the barbarians enter the city during the reign of the last king and even now, calling in favors for Morgana's invasion. He survived by being indispensably useful. But now, with the fruits of his deceits fresh before him, something switched. He was going to be a hero, even if it meant dying for it. In fact most became heroes precisely because they died for 'it', whatever 'it' was.

He was ready.

He pulled Roggor and Princess Eva closer. "Come, I can get us out of here!" Prince Veros looked upon the cowardly aide taking action, and felt a need to outdo his bravado. He was the son of King Karnor, greatest warrior in the land! A prince never followed, and he would be damned if he was remembered for running while his brother became immortalized in legend. He would out glory him in death. Even though he didn't think he would last more than five seconds, they wouldn't know that. Glory before reason, so emblematic of his bloodline it could have been the family motto.

"Good idea!" said the prince, before steadying his blade. "I'll hold them off, save her!" Marlowe was grateful for the prince's flagrant lack of self-preservation, and led the Paladin and the Princess towards a secret bookcase passage, quickly pulling on the blue spine of an ancient tome before shutting the door behind him. "Remember me, Eva!" were the last words the good Princess heard of her beloved brother before her rescuers sheltered her under the cloak of darkness.

Joran still lay struggling against his assailant, his body long having retreated into its primal instincts and sucking upon the chamber maid's swollen, silky smooth tits. Her loud moans drowned out his muffled rage, as she slowly began to grind her leaking sex against his hardening cock.

"Join us noble warrior...feel our dark truths surround you, penetrate you...drink from me and know peace!" moaned the deranged woman as she mashed his face even further into her full, bulging bosom, drinking in of his fear as he drank in of her corruption. Joran desperately fought off the feeling he had gone to heaven, almost overcome by the exquisite pleasure of having her velvet smooth flesh writhe against him. His hopes were raised when he saw the valiant Prince Veros deflecting blows from his enemies, said hopes were just as quickly dashed when a corrupted nun simply knocked him out from behind.

He tensed up as he felt the corrupted woman had somehow removed the armor surrounding his groin, leaving his cock exposed to her hungering pussy. He nearly pushed her off but the woman was possessed of supernatural strength, and snarled when she impaled herself on his rod, sinking her searing claws through his shoulder plates, as his hardness filled up the silken cavern of her sex.