Disclaimer: I do not own the cover image.
NSFW Warning: Strong Sexual Content
Another blast from infernal artillery rocked the mighty cathedral to its foundations, sending trails of dust cascading from its monumental heights. As the towering stained glass windows shook in their frames, Miles Intericus, Captain among the Fists of Ista Murri, an order of paladins ordained by she who gives life to be the bastions of her will upon the mortal plain, and Champion of the Goddess, lifted his gaze to the vaulted ceiling above in a silent plea to his deity. Gathered about the Champion, his fellow Captains likewise made their own overtures to the Lady of Life. Some through murmured prayers, but most through firm, steeled resolve, their hard gazes rapt, their gauntleted hands firm upon the hilts of their blades.
As the rumbling from the last bombardment faded, the heavy boot-falls of their Commander turned their gazes to her approach, any further fear or uncertainty washed away by the sight of her in their midst.
Tall and regal, Commander Asarta was the very image of the Paladin’s creed against darkness. Encased in white-enameled steel plate akin to her subordinates, the iron in her gaze spoke of the years she had served the Order, leading all the way to her current position at its head. Though Miles had been named the Goddess’ champion, Asarta was clearly the arm that wielded her blade.
Behind the Commander, their heads bowed, their bodies wrapped in unblemished white cloth, came a line of priestesses who maintained the Cathedral. As Asarta planted herself before her Captains, the Priestesses fanned out to form a semi-circle around them, a soft chant rising from their ranks.
As the priestesses moved into position, Miles caught the eye of his adoptive sister, Tima, as she made her way towards her place in the semi-circle. As their eyes met, she flashed him a genuine smile, one which filled him with joy, as well as a sudden inclination to admonish her for breaking her chant. Ever precocious, even the strict regime of the priestess’ order could not rob her of her youthful exuberance.
Thinking back, he could recall when they had first met. It was in the ruins of her village, her kinsfolk and home lying broken about her, victims of a demonic attack. Having arrived too late to save the village, Miles and his men had waded through the rubble in search of any survivors. There had been only one, and it had been Miles who found her. Seated beside the body of her dead mother, a mere child, she had lifted tear-stained eyes to meet his gaze, and she had smiled, a wondrous, beautiful smile despite the horror and darkness she had endured. His heart had melted and he had lifted her into his arms, returning with her and his squadron to the capital of their realm. A mere sergeant at the time, he had been unable to take her as a ward as his duties were fully committed to his Order. Instead, he had handed her over the priestesses and it was among their ranks that she had grown into the woman she was now. Visiting her whenever he might, the two developed a familial love for eachother and he would refer to her as “little sister” whenever they met.
Seeing her now, her cheer remaining despite the forces of evil literally beating upon their walls, he felt his own resolve harden. He would not let the creatures from the abyss get her. She would survive this, as she had survived before, that he swore.
“Firsts of Ista Murri!” Asarta called, her voice ringing clearly throughout the cathedral’s entirety. “The legions of the damned hammer upon our gates. Though the brave men and women of the Watch seek to hold them at bay, their efforts are doomed without our aid. Captains, are your cohorts assembled?”
“Yes Commander!” They shouted as one.
“Then lead your men forth! Go where you are needed most! Drive this filth from the walls of our city! Make them fear the light!”
A cheer rose upon from among the assembled captains as they drew and lifted their blades. Miles lifted his voice among them, and as he drew his sword, the goddess’ light shone upon the blade, haloing them all in her favor.
Emboldened by the sight, his fellow captains turned and marched towards the cathedral doors with he at the center of their number. As the Champion, he did not command any one cohort, but his presence would be tantamount to instilling morale among his Order, as well as the Watch.
“Captain Intericus!” Asarta called from behind, giving him pause. Looking back, he saw that a shadow had seemingly passed over his Commander.
“Attend me,” she bade him, “we must discuss the city’s defense.”
Concerted by her sudden change in demeanor, he nevertheless broke away from the ranks of his fellows and returned to stand before her. Falling to one knee, he presented her with his blade, still aglow with the goddess’ favor.
“What would you have of me, Commander?” He asked. “For you know I am no tactician but a conduit for our lady’s might.”
“No, Miles,” she said, shocking him further as he had never heard her use his first name. Lifting his gaze to hers, he beheld that her eyes were now filled with sorrow and another emotion more alien to those of the Order than lust or gluttony. Fear.
“You are our Lady’s favored,” she nodded her agreement. “And it is within your presence she shines brightest.”
Turning slightly, she directed his gaze to the Cathedral’s centerpiece, a massive, jagged blue stone, suspended in the air by mighty chains. Within the stone’s depths a dull, blue light pulsated.
The surrounding priestesses too lifted their heads to behold the stone, its light reflected upon their faces, its glow mirrored in the small blue stones they each had set into their own foreheads.
“The city is lost,” Asarta continued, looking down upon him once more. “The priestesses have communed with the Goddess and she had told them thus. By nightfall the walls will be breached and the people put to the sword. This mighty cathedral, testament to her power, will be leveled, stone by stone, until there is no remnant that it ever stood.”
Miles was speechless. His initial reaction, of course, was denial. There was no way that such an event could ever occur. Many times before the forces of darkness had sought to throw down the great city but never had they even come close. Through the goddess’ protection they had ever prevailed. This line of thought, however, was quickly overridden by his lifetime of training and service. The Goddess had spoken and thus it would be.
“What is it then that she asks of me?” He muttered, dazed.
“If the Cathedral is to fall, so too will the seat of the Goddess’ power,” Asarta said, indicating once more the giant stone. “A vessel must be constructed in which to transfer her from here.”
“But what sort of vessel…?” He began to ask, then his eyes fell upon the priestesses, who had all then turned to silently regard him. Seeing the stone in their foreheads pulsating, he knew the answer before Asarta even said it.
“The Goddess’ being must be placed within the body of a person she deems worthy of possession,” she said. “You are to be that person’s guardian.”
“I understand,” he murmured, bowing his head once more.
“Stand now, Captain Intericus, for there is another part to this. One that is most unorthodox.”
At her words, several of the more matronly priestesses hissed but she ignored their rebuke of her apparent blasphemy.
“As all of her priestesses here have been deemed too old for the Goddess to properly mold to her desired form, a new life must be made…with you as the father.”
Again Miles’ world was rocked to its foundations. One of the foremost pillars of his order was the oath of chastity. Though he knew that not all of his brothers and sisters followed this as ardently as he, visiting special brothels run by the priestesses in order to attain release without it compromising their oath, a convenient loophole set up by their faith in years past to stop paladins from going astray, never had he darkened the doorstep of any such establishment. Furthermore, having joined the Order at a young age, in similar circumstances as Tima, he had never lain with anyone prior to his joining either. Devoted as he was to his Order and his faith, he had never even considered the possibility of fathering a child, let alone one who would be possessed by the very Goddess he served.
“But who…?” He began, unable to properly articulate his words.
“The priestesses will now commune with the Goddess, and she will choose one of their number with whom you will…copulate,” Asarta said stiffly, obviously equally uncomfortable with their Goddess’ command.
As she spoke, the Cathedral shook anew with artillery fire, breaking Miles from his shock and snapping him back into the realities of their current predicament. He was a member of the Fists of Ista Murri, chosen of his Goddess. If this was her command, so shall he obey.
Sliding his sword back into its scabbard, he stood stiffly at his Commander’s side as the priestesses bowed their heads, chanting softly. As they chanted, the blue hue emitted by the great crystal expanded to envelope them, encircling all assembled like the arms of a loving mother. The chant rose and rose, defying the now more frequent blasts from without, as the light slowly contracted, focusing in on the Goddess’ chosen until it haloed fully a singular form. As Miles and Asarta watched, the light absorbed itself into the chosen priestess, disappearing within her until it was completely gone. The chant ended suddenly and all eyes turned to behold the chosen.
Miles’ throat had gone very dry as the chosen priestess lifted her head to reveal the familiar features of his adoptive sister, Tima. Her opalescent skin now infused with blue light, and with blue flames burning in the depths of her normally innocent eyes, she broke ranks with her sisters and began approaching the paladin with sure, even steps.
“No,” was his immediate thought. “Not only am I to break my oath of chastity, but with my own sister?!”
He did not know what emotion his features were betraying, if any, but they hindered the possessed Tima not at all and she continued to approach him with determined steps, her inflamed eyes locked on his, her hips sashaying in a most provocative manner. Her hands slowly rose to peel open the priestess robes she wore, allowing them to fall away to reveal her shapely form, sporting ample breasts and wide hips.
Having never before even considered looking upon her as a woman with whom he might lay, Miles was astounded by how beautiful she was. Brotherly pride was replaced with manly desire and he stepped forward to meet her, his cock hardening beneath the codpiece of his armor.
The priestesses and Asarta stepped back as they came together, her naked form pressing itself against his armored chest, her expectant gaze turned up towards his face. He could feel the heat of her through his breastplate, and as he wrapped his arms about her he was absorbed by memories of pulling her from the rubble of her house, of hugging her when she greeted him in the cathedral courtyard after just being accepted into the ranks of the priestesses.
He nearly drew back then, unable to fulfill that with which he had been tasked, but her firm hand upon the back of his neck, as well as an insistent one massaging his crotch, kept him firmly in place.
Drawing him closer to her, she captured his lips with her own. They stood, locked in a passionate kiss, for what seemed like an eternity, until the vibrations of yet another explosion shook the cathedral once more.
Breaking their kiss, he looked down upon her, finding himself once more gazing into the eyes of the woman he recognized. In fact, the blue flame of the Goddess seemed to have retracted from her entire face and he knew that it was truly Tima upon whom he now gazed.
“Tima…,” he murmured softly, marking the slight confusion and concern in her eyes. His words, fraught with their own anxiety, seemed to focus her, however, and she smiled sheepishly up at him.
“Guess we’ve really stepped in it now, big brother,” she said, chuckling nervously.
“Tima, I can’t,” he stammered in reply.
“It is the Goddess’ will,” she replied, conjuring a reassuring smile.
As if summoned back forth, the blue glow returned to her features, the fire to her eyes, and her brave little smile twisted into one hungry and lascivious. He felt a firm grip tighten upon his codpiece, firmer than anything Tima could have conjured on her own, before it was torn cleanly from his armor, taking the front of his trousers with it, and freeing his fully erect manhood to the chilled air of the cathedral.
Taking his penis within her palm, the possessed Tima lovingly drew her thumb across its tip, strings of his precum forming rope-bridges between the digit and the slit at his cocks crown. Licking her lips, the woman planted a firm hand upon his chest and forced him backwards, sending him to the stone floor hard. Immediately, she was astride him, her knees hugging his hips, the small mound of curls between hovering above the spearhead of his phallus. The fire in her eyes burning brightly, she lowered herself upon him, inch by heated, gasping inch impaling herself upon his length.
As she settled upon him, his manhood fully within her, she began to slowly gyrate her hips, moving him inside of her, setting a pace that was both to her comfort and maximum pleasure.
Groaning, Miles laid his head upon the cold stone floor. The feel of her enveloping him was transcendent. His cock seemingly fitting perfectly within her, her movements ensuring that he hit all the right places, her short, gasping breaths perfectly encapsulating her pleasure.
Looking up at her, he saw that, once more, the blue light had receded and he gazed once more upon the face of his adoptive sister. She offered him a reassuring smile once more, one broken almost immediately by a moan as his cock sank fully within her once more. Lifting his hands, he gripped her hips, the mail of his gauntlets biting into her immaculate flesh, raising red mounds in their wake and causing her to bite her lip, her heavily lidded eyes locked with his, her red lips, eternally parted in a moan or gasp, ripened by her pleasure, her little pink tongue peeking forth whenever he grazed the perfect place inside of her.
Planting her hands firmly against his plated chest, her fingertips clawing desperately at the steel beneath them, she began to grind herself harder and faster against him. Wrapping one of his arms about the small of her back, whilst his other hand cupped her ass, he simultaneously crushed her to him and aided her in her tempo.
Their eyes remained locked, their breath mingling between them, the stone in her forehead beginning to glow brighter and brighter. Suddenly, her eyes screwed shut and she arched her back, a beam of light sprouting from her crystal as she came. The sight of her in her moment of greatest pleasure sent him toppling over the edge as well and he gripped her tighter, the bounty of his cum filling her and spilling forth.
They lay within each other’s arms, upon the cold floor of the cathedral, their breathing labored, her head resting upon his chest as they rode out the reverberations of their respective orgasms, oblivious to any other thing about them.
This bliss was ended violently by a sudden and tremendous explosion that shook the ground beneath them, shattering the stained glass windows of the cathedral and driving cracks through its foundation.
Having rolled slightly to shield Tima from the blast, Miles rose unsteadily to his feet. Drawing Tima up beside him, they immediately found themselves enveloped by a gaggle of priestesses who tore the woman from his arms and ushered her away, herding her towards the back of the cathedral where their quarters lay.
Taking a step to follow them, Miles found his way blocked by his Commander, who looked down upon him with a mixture of hope and pity.
“Never thought I’d be glad to see a member of the Order break their vow,” she said wryly.
“Commander, I…,” he muttered, his mind still foggy from his orgasm.
“Think nothing of it, Captain,” she smiled, her earlier fears seemingly having evaporated. “In any case, whatever doctrines we once cleaved to are gone, or at least trivialized by current events. A new order will rise, possibly with you at its head, and it will be on you to shape its path.”
Realization dawning on him, Miles shook his head.
“Don’t do this, Commander,” he begged. “You can come with us, you can raise our Order from the ashes!”
To his words, she only smiled sadly. Stepping closer to him, she cupped his cheek in her hand.
“There was a time, you know, that I would have liked to try and entice you into my bed,” she confessed. “As it stands now, I must guard your flight. Defend our Goddess, Captain, and do not forget we who fell here this day.”
Another massive explosion rocked the cathedral and she strode past him, towards the massive doors and towards her fate.
He watched her go for but a moment before thoughts of Tima filled his head and he fled, following in the priestesses’ wake and from the doomed city.