tagSci-Fi & FantasyThe Song of Roland Ch. 03

The Song of Roland Ch. 03


She was poison, this fomenting thing whose impossibly beautiful face buried itself in his crotch; there was nothing to be gained from her, save the crushing pleasure of damnation that she promised with her sucking lips. Her very presence was corruption; her lapping tongue against the underside of his scrotum a whip to crack against his spirit like a taste of sweetness that did not truly sate his hunger. Roland knew it, in his bones he knew that spending time with this thing that wore a human's face and purple skin could only end in one outcome. Yet as he ran his hands through her jet-black hair, as his fingers trailed across the hellish horns he used as handholds to pull her tight against him, he couldn't help but make the same atrocious decision over and over again.

Kelsea, for her part, seemed to be in heaven. She devoured his sack like the life-giving fruits that they were, engulfing the spongy material and slobbering on them in an uncouth and severely demeaning manner. As Roland leaned back on the ground on which the two lay, the Demoness bent over, her gorgeous purple rear swaying back and forth as her tail twisted like a cat's. Her hand was wrapped firmly around his manhood, jacking him fiercely as her tongue circled each orb, her face partially obscured by his sex yet staring up at him regardless.

There was no low she wouldn't sink to, no bottom to her barrel of degeneracy. Had he collared her and dragged her about like an animal she'd have likely played along, crawling on her hands and knees as the pet slowly turned him into the slavering dog. As it was she gobbled his gonads and jerked his johnson with the ease of a being wholly at home in the compromising position. Roland nearly opened his mouth to let out a pleasured groan, but forced himself to remain silent, grunting in what sounded like discomfort instead.

He popped out of her mouth, his balls feeling swollen and packed more than they'd been before she'd begun to worship them. Roland was not the type to think overlong about his own sexual appendage, but he could swear that his package now fit more uncomfortably in his codpiece. It was near imperceptible, but when Kelsea jerked his member it took her a fraction of a second longer to reach its tip when she initiated her length-long strokes. On marches through the wilderness he found himself thinking more and more of the trailing thing that walked behind him, her eyes ever on the back of his head.

And he certainly wouldn't have done this at the start of their journey together: grabbing her by the face mere moments after her extended testicular veneration and pulling her up against his red whiskers into a harsh kiss. Her body melded to him like a lava flow across a simmering hill as she returned the favor, sighing within his mouth and expelling more of her corrupted breath into his lungs. She tasted like vice, their tongues encircling each other in a desperate attempt to outdo one another in passion.

She pulled back, her hands still roughly pulling at his erect pecker as she smiled shyly at him. "My, aren't you frisky today." She said, her voice low as though she were whispering a dirty secret in his ear. "Where's all this coming from? Usually I'd be lucky to get a slap from you." He slapped her, his open palm smacking across her inconceivably perfect face as her head turned to accept the blow, as though she'd been expecting it. She tilted her head back to look at him, a curling smile growing on her face. He could see the pointed tooth of her incisor as she grinned, sucking the side of her lip in exaggerated excitement. "More, please?"

"Fucking woman." He growled, gripping her face and licking across the offended cheek. She moaned as he did, one of her precum-soaked hands reaching up and caressing his face. She turned and kissed him again, her mouth shoving itself against his face as she bit down on his lip. "You're a monster." He said, tasting blood on his tongue, his voice lacking its usual scornful tone.

"You're a beast." She replied, her hand a blur as she jacked him off. "My beast. Bite me." He obliged, leaning down and chomping on her shoulder as she ran her fingers through his fiery mane. At the culmination of the stinging nibble her fingers clenched against his scalp. "Ahn! Yes! Gods, Roland." His name on her lips was like honey tarnished by the slightest sense of vinegar. "You're perfect for a girl like me."

A girl like her. He pushed her to the ground, her hand retreating from his cock as she curled her arms up to her chest, adopting a surprisingly chaste expression as she laid over on her side, her rump pointed at him and her glistening delta shining with moisture that beaded and dripped down the back of her thigh. She pulled her knees up, exposing her sex as she sat there like a maiden waiting to be deflowered. Her hands meekly covered her nipples, as though ashamed. He knew it was an act, but still he couldn't resist. In a rush he swept forward, lifting her infinitely flexible leg and draping it over his shoulder, aiming his pulsating head against her exposed inside as he drove forwards. She screamed like the banshee they had slain weeks before, her hand drifting down and rapidly rubbing at her clit as she felt his cock press into her warm, pink insides.

He ingratiated himself to her birth canal, shoving himself so deep he bumped her cervix and left her squealing, drooling and moaning beneath his sexual onslaught. He felt her thigh clench against his chest, the strength of her leg urging him on as her ankle and foot dangled over him. Her eyes were rapt, red and locked against his face as he fucked her senseless. His hips drove like a piston as he scissored against her navel with his penis, feeling the undulating clench of her insides as she milked him better than her blowjob had been. "Roland!" She cried, her back arching as her purple breasts bounced from the intense thrusting.

He pulled back, allowing the free skin of her labia to stroke across the whole of his length as he felt the intense dichotomy of the cold air on his wet prick and the sweltering tightness of her moist fuck hole. She whined as he removed himself completely, his cock pulling free and bobbing in a strikingly sexual manner as he gazed inside her open cunt, seeing the chasm that he'd opened within her. "Why did the Gods make a thing as lovely as you so vile?" He asked, his breath streaking out in great gouts as he clutched her leg to him, kissing the absurdly warm skin of her leg and licking the sweat from her body. "What madness has taken me, that I'd bury my body in your confines?"

Her hand stroked his stomach fondly, her eyes shined as she stared at him. "The same man who'd spare a lusty whore from becoming a grisly trophy for a bunch of bloodthirsty peasants." She took his cock in her hand, guiding its twitching thickness to her pussy once again. He sank into her, finding his natural home and resuming the session with nary a word. He grimaced and closed his eyes, burying his face in her leg as he hugged it against him. He couldn't bear to look at the thing beneath him.

They increased the tempo, his hips shifting focus as they developed a strong rhythm, his body mashing tight against hers before pulling back. As he neared the edge of his limit, he felt the sudden tickling sensation of a spell within his body. She cried out beneath him: "Please, Roland." She begged, her voice high pitched and asthmatic, "Cum in me. Fill my belly with your seed! Make me a mother, your breeding sow, your- ungh!" Her back arched again as she squirted, some of her feminine fluids coming out with such force that they soaked their corrupted essence onto Roland's stomach and into his skin. He obliged.

The clenching of his balls preceded the sudden dilation of his urethra, causing Kelsea to squirt again as he erupted within her, the consistency and viscosity of the egg-raping solution being far thicker than anything he had ever naturally produced. He came with enough force that he could hear her uterus gurgle as it accepted the influx of spurts. He humped against her still, continuing the rocking motion as he heard the squirts and squicks of her femininity being inundated with his semen. Though he could not see it, Roland pictured her insides being dyed a thick, syrupy white and came harder, firing blast after blast of jisim into her trembling puss.

He pulled out, and was astonished to see he was still cumming. He jerked himself, throwing her leg off of him as she splayed herself out across the ground, her hands bending up behind her shoulders as she grasped her neck and simulated a female reclining on a bed of romance. Her hips curled, her legs threaded through eachother, and globs of cum spurted free from her abused crotch onto the ground, creating a puddle between her thighs. He came onto her stomach, pressing his cock up to fire in the curve between her heaving breasts. She lifted off the ground and swallowed his rod effortlessly, her gag reflex disappearing as she deepthroated the last explosive cum discharging from his spout, her eyes on him as she licked and slurped the underside of his balls.

At last, after nearly a solid minute of ejaculation, Roland reluctantly removed himself from her roiling touch, pulling his cock free from her mouth in a swift movement. Letting out a contented breath he pulled off of her, grabbing for his pants and hurriedly trying to hide the shame of his far-too enjoyable experience. "What did you do to me." He said, turning away from her so he did not have to look at her eternal stare; it was a statement, not a question.

"What..." She said, catching her breath, "What do you mean?"

He turned back, scowling at her affectation of innocence. "I came for damn near a minute. No one does that without either dying or downing a lust potion. What spell did you cast on me?"

"Nothing much..." She said, diffident and bashful. A blush rose to her inhuman cheeks. "I just wanted to feel you, cumming inside. Last time was amazing, but it was far too short. I thought that-"

"Don't." He said, buckling his belt and hating himself for every second he was in her presence. "I didn't save your life so you could contaminate me with your perverse magic. I'm not one of your little sexperiments that you can dissect and twist at will, yeah?"

"Is that what you think I was doing?" Kelsea asked, a strange note of hurt in her voice.

"Yes." He said, roughly shoving his sword into its sheath and wishing he could plunge it into his gut instead. He kept his back turned as he dressed, leaving her sitting on the ground behind him, resting in the afterglow. "It's what your kind does; it's why those villagers wanted your head as a mantlepiece; it's the reason why I should have killed you and taken the five gold pieces I left for you alongside the rest."

"But you didn't." She said simply, "You brought me with you."

He turned to her, his head shaking as he fought to control his emotions. "No, you brought you with me. I let you go free, yet you followed me instead. See the difference?"

"No." She said. "You gave me my life, at the cost of a few worthless bits of metal that I didn't even care about and a moment of passion that I wanted anyway. I owe you a debt."

Roland laughed, a contemptuous thing that left a sharp constriction in his chest. "You owe me nothing. Your presence is pollution incarnate, your words are nothing but innuendos and carnal cravings. I let you go: you're free; you can seduce shopkeeps, fuck stableboys, or rape goats for all I care!"

"I don't want to do any of those things." She said, moving to a kneeling position. Her tail moved slowly behind her, swaying in the breeze. She looked beautiful naked.

"Then why are you here?" He asked, his hand trembling in its fist.

"To be with you." She replied.

"Leave." He snarled.

"No." She said. His hand reached for the hilt of his sword and her eyes followed it, moving deliberately to gaze back at him. She didn't raise her hand, nor move to defend herself. Roland realized that he could behead her in a moment and she'd never lift a finger to stop him. Cursing himself to the core of his bones, he unclenched his hand from its white-knuckled grip on the blade.

"You cast another spell on me again and you'll be swallowing cock through a straw." He said, his threat sounding nonsensical and hollow on his lips; he wouldn't lift a hand against her, despite the rough treatment during the sex. That had been mere playing, this... Gods curse the very ground she walked on, he couldn't get her out of his head. He extended a hand, bending down so she could take it as he pulled her to her feet. She stepped forward, moving into his arms and wrapping her own around him. Her tail trailed along the side of his shoulder.

"I won't." she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek. "I just thought it'd be fun. For what it's worth: I can feel them squirming in me."

"It's worth nothing at all." He said, putting a hand on her bare shoulder and pushing her gently away. He wanted nothing more than to continue rutting against her, but the the images of his mind recalled memories of the past and forced him to temper his abiding hunger. "Get dressed and change your looks: we're going back to the main road: Rendhold is just a few leagues ahead."

"What will we do when we get there?" Kelsea asked, turning away as she moved to put on her hastily discarded clothing. It was strewn about the campfire, a sign of their sudden, intense lovemaking. The frequency of their fornication was increasing daily.

"What else? Work. Kill whoever needs killing. Get paid. Rinse and repeat, yeah?" Roland spat on the ground, feeling the corruption of her fluids still on him, though his body was ostensibly dry. She'd begun to seep into his very essence. "Rendhold's a true fortress, none of that motte and bailey tripe the villagers call a keep. Odds are if there is work it'll be of the human stripe, rather'n monsters."

"Good." she said, scootching her pants up over her expansive rear. "I was always better at men, anyway."

"Keep your illusion up, too. There's like to be a court mage here, and if he gets wind of your deception he'll fry you faster than you cry out during sex." Roland strapped the last pack to his back, kicking at the ashes of the embers that surrounded the small campfire. He took the time to gaze longingly at the Succubus' bare back as she stood, pulling her boots on. She'd already begun to switch to her human appearance. "And keep that knife handy. I don't want to catch you casting fireballs unless it's just us. Even laymen can tell the difference between an elemental and a demonic spell."

"Duly noted." She replied, pulling her shirt over her head and turning to face him. With her human appearance and deep, blue eyes. She almost passed for normal. Only Roland knew that behind the innocent eyes was a creature that was slowly chipping away at his sanity. His mouth a flat line, the mercenary jerked with his thumb. "Let's get moving."

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