All the heroes turned 18, although no, they are much older, these are fucking turnskins, they have been terrorizing the inhabitants of the Iron Mountains for decades.
And the whole text is divided into small paragraphs, so that my dear readers, God forbid, your eyes do not get tired. Without eyes, my story will be difficult to read. Take care of yourself and enjoy your reading.
****
Raxen suddenly stopped, drew in a breath, and growled barely audibly. However, Lyonza had long seen a flock of crows that circled over the hill. She gently touched Raxen’s heel, encouraging him to move on. But he did not even think to budge.
“It’s dangerous there,” he said quietly.
Lyonza scratched his ear.
“There is nobody there. Except for the dead.”
And she pointed to the beast at the circling scavengers. The leopard growled in displeasure.
“I understand you perfectly,” Lyonza said, “I don’t like this country either. But we have an order and it must be carried out. Let’s make it quick and return to our castle to your favorite fireplace.”
But Raxen was unstoppable. One of the costs of traveling with him is his constant whining and complaints. Not a predator, but a pitiful cat.
“Why all this?”, he asked, “What prevents you from returning to the castle, breaking up with the Brotherhood and living like normal people?”
“Because I’m not a normal person. And not a human.”
The leopard snorted skeptically. But in any case it was necessary to go forward. They, observing caution, climbed the mountain path that led to the village. The closer they got, the stronger the burning smell became. As Lyonza had predicted, everyone was dead here, only burnt houses with collapsed roofs remained of the village itself. Lyonza more than anything in the world did not like death. Life, even the most unenviable and painful, seemed to her the greatest blessing, the best gift that the Creators gave to beings. Life is always a chance to change something, and when you are dead, you no longer have the power to even move a speck of dust.
Maybe that’s why she is still in the Brotherhood, despite the hatred for her? As long as she serves the Light, there is always a chance to help someone escape death. But there was more death in these damned Iron Mountains than was necessary. Most of the iron in the world is mined here. Maybe that’s why there is a constant war between everyone and everyone?
They walked through the village, and Lyonsa tried not to look at the mutilated corpses. Raxen stopped again and silently bared his fangs. Lyonza jumped up from his back, put her hand on his belt. Her belt was not simple. It was a flexible urum sword that wrapped around the waist, fastened with a lock. As soon as it was unfastened, a formidable weapon was found in the hands of the succubus, combining the advantages of a sword and a whip. The sounds that attracted the attention of the leopard came from the only stone building in the village, therefore, a common barn.
He also suffered from fire, the stones turned black, in some places there were cracks and holes in the walls. Through one of these holes, Lyonsa saw several warriors in high helmets. Mongs, the most warlike and frostbitten of the local people. There was a woman with them, with a bag on her head. One warrior held her hands, the second, lifting her bare thighs, with force drove her penis between her legs. The third, apparently, was preparing to be next. He had already taken out his scion and was crushing it with his hand. The woman didn’t make a sound, only shuddered with her whole body at every friction. The Mong who raped her grunt harshly, as if chopping wood with an ax.
Of course, Lyonza was a succubus, but this sight did not cause her the pleasant excitement that she experienced at the sight of such. The kind of sex brought her pleasure only if all the participants in the process liked it. Lyonza unfastened the urum and jumped into the hole. The fight was short-lived. The Mongs did not expect an attack, one did not even have time to pull on his pants. The blows of the flexible blade disarmed them, and the sight of the red demoness and the predatory cat, which appeared out of nowhere, frightened them. With shouts, the mongs rushed away. Lyonza leaned towards the woman. She took the bag off her head and cried soundlessly, covering her face with her hands. The succubus itself came up with a lump in the throat. She stroked the unfortunate shoulder.
“Do not cry…”, she said softly, “You are alive, and this is the main thing. Don’t cry… It’s over.”
The woman fell silent, dropped her hands, and Lyonza herself almost screamed. The woman had no nose. In its place was a bloody hole. She silently opened her mouth and there was only a small stump instead of a tongue. Why, why disfigure so? Where does this desire for thoughtless destruction, for pain and death come from? Lyonza did not understand this. The woman looked at Lyonza, as if she was reproaching her for what had happened, then she sighed and fell silent. Small thorny snowflakes fell from the gray sky.
****
It was already getting dark when the walls of the monastery appeared. The snow was already falling in large flakes, surrounding the travelers with a cold white shroud. Lyonza and Raxen, ascending the steep mountain path to the monastery, were sullenly silent. She wanted to bury the dead in that wretched village, but even for that there was no time. Mongs raids are a problem for the local duke-hou. And Lyonza, the Dragonier, is tasked with dealing with another, no less cruel enemy.
She wanted to bury her face in Raxsen’s skin and cry bitterly. But he had to go, get to the goal at least to the darkness. And who knows, maybe at least here she will be in time, save the living from evil spirits. What a disgusting place. During the day, the Mongs rule here, and at night the turnskins are cannibals. They laid siege to a mountain monastery. Every night these creatures circled around the holy monastery, and only prayer helped to contain them. It is good that the news of this reached the hou, and he contacted the closest commander of the Brotherhood. And the commander, in turn, dispatched to deal with the problem of his closest brother-dragonier. More precisely, a sister. Sister Lyonza Luane, since she was in these places, on her way back from the West.
Lyonza lifted the massive bronze ring on the gate and knocked. She wisely turned Raxen into a hide and threw it over her shoulders. The ring, when struck against a tree, made a booming sound. The answer was silence. The monastery generally looked dead; not a single light shone in the dark stone bulk. Really late? Lyonza knocked again. Quiet. But Lyonza felt someone looking at her. Someone was watching her from behind the walls.
“Hey!”, Lyonza shouted, “I’m looking for an overnight stay! I don’t need much, just a roof over my head is enough. Holy Fathers, let the tired traveler go to bed!”
There was a quiet rustling. The gate creaked and opened. Behind him stood a monk with a hood down over his face.
“Hello!”, said Lyonza, “won’t you let me in…”
The monk looked at her from under the hood, then nodded slowly. Lyonza went inside, the monk closed the gate, dropping a heavy lock from the inside. It was dark, even in the sanctuary tower. Strange, the lights should never go out there. They walked through the courtyard, entered a long building intended for the monks to live in. Lyonza put her hand on the hilt of her sword belt. Everything is too filthy here. But she is an experienced fighter and magician. A bunch of turnskins will definitely cope. They walked down a long corridor into a large prayer hall. Twilight reigned here. Everything was tied up with some kind of ornaments and garlands, big bags hung from the ceiling. What’s going on here? Lyonza touched her hand to the silver amulet in the shape of a two-headed dragon. She was about to say a prayer of sacred light. If this is a trap prepared by evil spirits, an unpleasant blinding surprise awaits them.
But before she had time to utter the first word, there was a whistle. Something ripped the amulet from her neck. Lyonza abruptly removed the urum from her belt, but again the whistle and a silk cord twisted around her wrist. Another whistle, and the same cord wrapped around the other hand. Lyonza slashed with her sword, but the cord was unexpectedly strong. Someone tugged at the cords, Lyonza raised her hands up like a limp puppet, moved by an invisible puppeteer. A twist of the cord twisted her hand and she dropped her sword. She jumped, tumbled in the air, hoping to untie, but new cords twisted around her legs.
What’s going on here? The monk in front of him pushed the hood back from his face. Lionza saw a woman with almond-shaped eyes, dark hair, arranged in a tight bun, decorated with silk ribbons. She smiled wryly, but her eyes were as cold as two pieces of ice. Two more girls with such hairstyles, only dressed not in robes, but in shining dresses, also smoothly approached from the side. One in black, the other in purple.
“Who you are?”, Lyonza asked.
“It doesn’t matter…”, replied the one who lured her into a trap, apparently the eldest among them, “it is important who you are…”
“I was hoping to get a roof over my head here…”
“Welcome!”, said the girl in a purple dress and the whole trio laughed an unpleasant laugh.
“Daughters, are you hungry?”, the eldest woman asked.
“No!”, answered the girl in purple.
“No, Mommy!”, answered girl in a black dress, “we already had a glorious feast today. These monks are so fat…”
“At your age, I ate a lot”, said the mother, “this is important for the health of the offspring!”
“Mom…”, capriciously stretched out the daughter in black, “you can’t pour a sip of me into me today!”
“Okay, let him hang until tomorrow”, said the mother.
While they were talking, Lyonza quickly ran through all the options for further action in her head. The amulet flew far enough, which means the prayer of light will not work. Raxen is on her shoulders. But you need to reach his ear, only then the spell will work. And this is problematic in her position. Maybe use the magic of a succubus?
“Girls…”, she said languidly, “your silk cords are so exciting…”
The girls looked at each other quickly.
“They touch the skin so nicely… You know, such things are often practiced in Kra-Aken. Very sophisticated.”
It didn’t matter what she said, the whole secret was in the timbre of her voice. These vibrations caused excitement and trembling in almost every living creature in this world. It’s hard to resist a succubus. Mother licked her dry lips and looked at her daughters again. They looked at Lyonza in fascination.
“Mom…”, said the daughter in black, “I want to play…”
“Me too,” said the second girl. She began massaging her breasts through the dress.
Mother went up to Lyonza. She took her cheek with her hand. A sharp-toed thumb slid over the succubus’s carmine lips.
“And you, little red one, know a lot about entertainment…”, she said in a low voice trembling with lust. She waved her hand, the cords that bound Lyonza’s hands taut like a string. The succubus was forced to stand on tiptoe. Mom ran her tongue over her cheek.
“What a sweet fly we got”
Fly? This was the first time Lyonza was called. And she has heard many strange nicknames in her lifetime. She felt herself aroused too. Turnskin mom threw Raxen off her with a quick movement, and then freed Lyonza’s breasts from under her clothes. The alien thoughts of the three turnskins throbbed in Lionza’s head, but did not give her an answer with whom she was dealing. Mother dug into her left nipple, Lionza even cried out in sharp pain. Meanwhile, the daughters had already pulled off their boots and traveling pants from the succubus. The one on the right tickled her foot with her tongue, the one on the left kissed her foot, rising higher and higher. Mother could not tear herself away from the breast of the succubus, she moaned dully, absorbing with her lips first one, then the second nipple of Lyonza. Her hand slid down to her groin. Lyonza, all trembling with excitement and caresses, felt how warm in her lower abdomen, how her penis arises, grows. Mother grabbed him with a sharp movement.
“Wow, girls! See what a surprise!”
“And not one!”, said the girl in black, thrusting a finger into Lyonza’s vagina.
Mother smiled, and then suddenly released another cord from somewhere out of her wrist. With a whistle, he wrapped around Lyonsa’s tense phallus. Mom raised her hand and a member rose up next.
“Do they do that in your Kra-Aken?”, she asked with a wry smile.
“No…”, Lyonza moaned.
Mother laughed, throwing her head back, pulled on the cord. The soft and cool cloth slid over the red penis of the succubus, causing incomparable pleasure. It went through her all, from the hair on her head to the very tips of her toes. Mother let out a throaty sound, and suddenly four more small eyes appeared on the high, open forehead. But Lyonza had already read their thoughts a few moments earlier. Spiders. A family of spider, venomous, insatiable, both in food and sex. With such it will be difficult to cope alone, even for her. The cord around her cock tightened, then weakened a little. An unbearable pleasure pierced Lyonza again.
The black spider, meanwhile, stroked the succubus’s clitoris with her thumb. Violet came in from behind, knelt in front of her buttocks and parted the anus ring with her tongue. Lyonza last had sex on a mountain pass with a yeti. She still had his seed in her, and she was about to erupt in the strongest orgasm in several years. But the experienced spider mother again squeezed the cord around the penis, preventing it from being discharged.
“We’re just getting started, fly,” she said, showing her sharp fangs.
Lionza groaned in pain, her head was swollen and a little blue. The black spider continued to wield her finger, and the purple one with her tongue. Therefore, the inability to discharge itself seemed even more intolerable. The Spider Daughters stopped their games and moved to the right and left of her. They lifted the cords that tied Lyonza’s legs so that she lifted herself off the floor, hung in a sitting position. The spider mother got rid of her monastic robe, completely naked. She had a curvy, appetizing body of a 40-year-old woman, large breasts with swollen pink-purple nipples, a small tummy, large buttocks. Her toenails were dark, as if varnished and pointed. A very beautiful mature woman. If not for the extra eyes on the forehead. And not an extra pair of hands. She straightened the bottom pair and released a few more cords. They formed something like a swing, on which she sat down. She moved her hips, guiding the swing towards Lyonza. After a moment, she planted on her cock with the hot, greedy mouth of her vagina. When Lyonza entered it completely, the spider made a harsh grunting sound, like that Mong-rapist.
The black spider released another cord and it wrapped around Lyonza’s throat. Violet passed the cord so that the clitoris of the red sorceress rubbed against it. The spider mother pushed back, and after a moment the hesitation brought her to Lyonza again, she again grabbed the cock with her greedy labia. Lyonza did not remember how long it went on. The unbearable touch of silk to the body, the hot grip of her head and two loops around the neck and penis, which alternately rhythmically contracted at the moment when she reached the depth of the spider, causing dizziness and acute pleasure. When will they get tired? Lyonza even with the ogres was easier. The spiders all fucked and fucked her, the cord around her neck tightened more and more each time, leaving a blue mark on her. Mom had already stopped playing the swing, she saddled Lyonza with her wide hips, furiously driving the phallus into herself. Her mouth was open, poisonous saliva dripped from her fangs onto the bare chest of the succubus. The cord was tightened so that Lyonza goggled her eyes and felt a sharp pain in her chest. No, they will kill her now! The member throbbed violently for release. Mother moved with all the bitterness, her fangs almost touching Lyonza’s neck.
Luanian closed her eyes. For a moment, she saw a house and three women, who were peacefully spinning to a mournful chant in a language unknown to her. But other sounds began to intertwine with this melody, a metallic clang, the whistle of arrows, and screams. The women jumped up and ran out into the street in panic. Chaos reigned there.
The spider once again planted on the phallus, froze, pressed against Lyonza with her magnificent body and finally began to finish. Lyonza felt a powerful pulsation radiating through the body of her mistress, she experienced this powerful surge of pleasure with her. The cords on his penis and neck loosened and Lyonza finally, with screams, released a powerful jet of yeti semen into the spider mother’s munching vagina. The world turned red and hot, as if Lyonza had fallen into the very mouth of a volcano.
The spiders fell to the ground at the same time. Their fetters hung and weakened. Lyonza shook herself and the cords fell to the floor. Lyonza fell after them, hitting her buttocks. Another one is now on her neck, where the cord pulled her together. Lionza picked up an amulet and a flexible sword. The spiders were alive, though exhausted. It was necessary to finish the case.
Lyonza took the amulet in her hand.
“Great Twins, different and one in one body…”, she began a prayer. Her voice was trembling.
“… Those who united in the dragon to give light… Dragan and Draga… brother and sister…”
Her throat was dry, dry sobs choking the succubus.
“… show your mercy to these fallen ones!”
The amulet flashed, the spiders were engulfed in flames, they screamed, writhing in pain. In a moment, small piles of black ash were in their place.
****
Lyonza was crying, buried in Raxsen’s skin. He sat on his hind legs and sometimes licked her face with a hot, rough tongue.
“You see,” she said, choking on her tears, “they were ordinary women, they lived in a village not far from here. We were engaged in weaving. A widow and two daughters…”
Lionza buried herself in the leopard’s skin again.
“The mongs attacked the village, they ran away. But they did not leave. Before them was a monastery. Although the Mongs are terrible, monasteries and temples are never touched… You see, never… They are superstitious. And these women asked the monks to let them in. They shouted, begged… But they just watched in silence… They watched how the Mongs caught up with them and then…”
Again, Lionza burst into sobs.
“But before they died, they cursed these mountains and this monastery. And the power of the curse was so great that they returned years later in the guise of terrible demons…”
“It’s like you’ve faced something like this for the first time,” Raxen said. “It’s time to get used to it in so many years.”
“I don’t want to get used to it. I do not want! If I get used to this, consider me dead!”
They sat in silence for a long time. Although the leopard was a whiner and a grouch, at such moments he knew how to be silent and let the succubus cry. Finally Lyonza wiped her face and stood up.
“Maybe you are right? Send that Dragoniers to hell?”
Raxen snorted and replied: “Sit on my back, it’s time for us to go home.”