The FutaKeeper Ch. 03

The Keeper woke, knowing not how long she had lain, only that her body still glowed with satisfaction. As sensation slowly returned, she realized that the Ashen had left, and at once felt a stab of longing, an icy spear of regret followed by the warmth of shame. She rose, noting that she was once more clothed in that somber garb of black and grey; the Ashen must have shielded her deformity from prying eyes before he left. Humiliation flooded over her like a rising tide as she remembered the warmth of his mouth, how her cock had nearly melted in the kiln between Yuria's legs.

"How many lords has he slain?" She mused. "How long have I before he leaves this world for the next?" Even without eyes she knew the Shrine well, thus it was that she was quite surprised when her foot struck something, and even more so when it groaned softly.

"I ache still from last time," Yuria lay on her back, the Keeper's seed warm inside her, filling her womb with its leaden heat. It had leaked from the now gaping cavern between her hips, pooling beneath her prone body in a thick, white mire. "Prithee grant me a moment's respite."

The Keeper reddened. "You misunderstand me, Darkwraith. I had no intent to- "She paused. "What did he say?"

Yuria mumbled something unintelligible; perhaps avoiding giving an answer, perhaps merely inebriated with pleasure.

"When he demanded that you- "The Keeper's blushed deepened. "What did he say that convinced you?"

"I am not at liberty to say." Yuria managed. "He demanded I withhold such things, something about 'troubling the Keeper' and that rot."

The Keeper could not see Yuria, yet the strain in her voice belied a war within, a grappling between sanity and passion's madness. Unbidden, all the Keeper's self hatred flared into a powerful flame that devoured her heart, charred her soul. She reached up, unclasping her cloak and letting it fall away around her like a blizzard of tar, its dark folds hissing softly as they caressed her pale skin. Fingers of strong, relentless iron closed around Yuria's waist, her only half hardened cock sliding along the woman's quivering back.

The Darkwraith writhed and squirmed, her belly swollen with warmth that flowed like honey, pressing at her fertile womb like desperate fingers, igniting flames of delight that swelled and thrashed from within. She tried to escape, yet managed only to topple forward, quivering arms failing her. A weak, strangled cry flowed over her lips, a breathless moan that pulled itself unbidden from her taxed lungs. Slowly, the stiffening shaft traced her back with its marbled tip, its immense length heavy with erotic allure.

"You will tell me." The Keeper felt an opening, a chink in Yuria's armor that tightened and tensed at her touch. "One way or another." Like a crude edged javelin piercing flesh, she felt a strong, desperate resistance as her broadening cock thrust in, wringing a cry of agony from the prone Darkwraith.

"That's not my-" She cut off, her voice strangled with pain as the lovely warmth of her forbidden hole clamped tight around the Keeper's immense girth, its confines arid as sun bleached bones, its grip painful and unyielding, as if it were between stones that her cock was trapped. "That's the wrong hole you blind dolt!" Gritting her teeth, Yuria squirmed, freezing when she felt the immense shaft pulse within her, its spasm alone threatening to tear her apart from within. It convulsed, a geyser of precum spurting deep into her body, the pressure of its indomitable presence filling her with rapture and fear in equal measure.

"Please," She begged, "I am undead, and will return even if you kill me here and now, yet I remember the agony of my death-"

"-Spill thine secrets, and I shan't spill thy blood." The Keeper's voice was cold, hard like honed steel. Nearly one quarter of her cock still jutted forth, and reaching down she began stroking this, shuddering in pleasure, feeling the inferno of desire swell in her breast. "Or keep them within thy body, as I tear it apart." Her breath came in rapid, panting bursts, her shaft burned with need; Yuria had not long to make her decision.

"He wanted me to bear thy child!" Yuria blurted, her voice shaking. "The product of thy seed sown within my womb, would be mightier than any this world has known; capable of drawing power from souls without need of thy intervention. It would be an unstoppable beast, for its wounds would seal moments after their creation, its blows would never weaken, its lungs would never fail." She felt the Keeper halt, cock trembling within its warm prison. To the deformed woman, it was a kiln warm as that of the First Flame. Within that intoxicating warmth, it felt as though her aberration would melt, immolated in fires that did not burn, but soothed. She gasped, feeling what would undoubtedly be a volcanic orgasm creeping upon her, tendrils of warmth rising within her shaft, clawing toward its tip.

"He knows that one day, he will leave us." The Keeper murmured. "Our child is to protect us when he no longer can." Sorrow crushed her heart, the cold solitude returning. "In his arms, I felt joy for the first time I can remember." She turned sightless eyes heavenward. "But even then, I knew it could not last."

"He wanted your joy to remain, Keeper of the Fire." Yuria dared not move, dared not draw breath, feeling her already cum bloated stomach stretched dangerously to accommodate the Keepers twitching pillar. "The Lords must be slain, their thrones cannot long barren remain. When at last they fall, he must abandon this world for another."

"There will be another Keeper to soothe him there."

"Not to him. She is but a portrait of his lover, a replacement to the eyes alone."

Within Yuria, the Keeper twitched, her rough tip large and ruthless as a fist. She stood trembling upon the precipice of orgasm, a mere breeze from exploding within her warm prison. Her resolve began to crumble, ecstasy stealing her voice, tilting her head back as her lips parted in a silent cry.

Sensing this, the Darkwraith squirmed, sliding the massive pillar perhaps a hand's breadth from her body, before it thrashed within her. She gasped, blissful warmth erupting in her belly and swelling it as if it was two children she bore within. Its heat tore through her, spreading upward. She coughed in surprise, a strangle taste in her throat, then she fell forward on hands and knees, cum spilling from her lips. Rivers of off white spurted from her throat, splashing across the flagstones, and the Firekeeper, delirious with pleasure, did nothing to stem its tides, shoving herself deeper with strangled moans; her cheeks fiery with shame and lust.

Undead were blessed with a measure of regeneration, annoyed with arrows that split their skulls or pierced their hearts, frustrated when a blade buried itself in their guts, yet they felt pain all the same; Yuria was no different. She felt herself shredded from within, the Fire Keeper's elation her agony. Warmth ripped through her body, gushing from her mouth, strangling her as no garrote ever could. The pressure within became overwhelming, a caged beast thrashing and writhing, eager to be free. Like an avaricious serpent devouring its prey, Yuria constricted around the Keeper's shaft, all but crushing it. Still, the Keeper's voracious lust did not relent, and in spite of the war between agony and ecstasy, she forced her cock ever deeper, wringing a choked scream from the prostrated Darkwraith.

Her shaft blazed with pleasure, her thoughts flickered beneath its smothering cloak; the Keeper was driven mad with desire, and not even Yuria's gurgling pleas could stop her now. Within the Wraith's stomach, she swelled and convulsed, the tight walls tearing away, only to reform moments later, their embrace sending a bolt of lightning arching from the weeping tip to her reeling mind, melting her sanity as a blacksmith's forge melts steel. Then, the pressure became too great, a thousand-fingered hand pushing against her, and twitching still, her cock was ejected by a geyser of pale white, every nerve within it blazing and roused; pinpoints of lightning that swirled and collected in her veins. The Keeper fell back, a long tendril spurting from her shuddering length, splashing across Yuria's arched back and dripping like ivory honey along her heaving sides.

Breathing heavily, both women collapsed, laying still for a time; the Keeper moaning softly as her cock twitched, slowly weeping thick, pale tears that collected like molten silver upon her inner thighs and the stones beneath. Yuria simply gasped and coughed, heavy ropes of white pouring from her mouth, gushing from her tortured hole.

As her sanity returned, the Keeper blushed, overcome with shame. Then, a belated thought rose from the mire.

"Thou art barren, art thou not?" She asked, receiving a weak nod from Yuria.

"Didst thou not tell him?"

Another nod.

"Why?" The Keeper struggled to her feet, body distant and leaden. "Why let him believe that we could produce a child?"

"Because," Yuria's voice was rough and hoarse, thick with the seed that filled her stomach and coated her throat. "In this world of sorrow and despair, he needed something to give him hope."