The Call of Her Coochie, page 2
Before she could reply to him, shouts echoed from within the wagon. Fists beat against the walls.
“Let us out!” shouted some.
“Let her in!” shouted others.
“We will give the girl what she needs! Our flesh will work!”
“This is a grave danger,” said Brother Bierzo. “Calm yourselves. This girl is deluded. You must calm yourselves!”
But the men within the wagon only grew more agitated by the moment. They beat against the walls of the wagon and called out in desperate lust.
“Please! Give us the woman! Bring us the girl!”
Sophie felt the desire like heat emanating from within. She slid down from the seat and ran to the sideboard of the wagon. She climbed up as the sick inside pounded their hands against the small doors. They shook and clinked against their latches, each like the lid on a boiling kettle.
Inspiration struck.
“Brother,” cried Sophie. “I know what I must do! They will remain inside, and I will remain outside! But I will give them what they desire!”
“No!” shouted Brother Bierzo, clambering down from the seat. “You mustn’t! Stay back!”
The old monk was too slow. Sophie yanked the latch of one of the small doors and saw wild, red-rimmed eyes peering out at her from inside the wagon. She opened the small door next to it and saw more eyes staring out.
“Here,” said Sophie, lifting her sheer shift over her head, “see if this stiffens your flesh.”
She exposed herself to those eyes crowding around to see her. She ran her hands over her soft breasts, squeezing and shaping them, then brushing fingers against her stiff nipples. She let her hands travel down her hips and into the flat of her abdomen. She pressed lower, over the dark thatch of hair between her legs, then she turned slowly so they could see her luscious bottom and her toned thighs.
“God be praised! She’s a beauty!” cried one man.
“An angel sent to us!”
“Please, let us touch you!”
“No, do not let them touch you,” shouted Bierzo, hobbling over to the sideboard. “Get down from there. Please.”
Sophie did not listen to him. She turned despite his reaching hand and pressed herself to the wagon’s side. She opened more of the small hatches and hands began to reach through. Their skin was gray and purple pox bulged from their flesh. Sophie didn’t care. She was feverish with desire, moaning as their clammy fingers stroked her arms and shoulders. She pressed closer, until her soft breasts found two of the open hatches. Her plentiful mounds squeezed through the holes and into the darkness of the wagon.
The men inside fell upon those two gorgeous globes with the pent lust of convicts in a prison. Their clammy fingers squeezed and pinched. Their lusty tongues licked. Their parched mouths sucked. Pleasure shot through Sophie and she moaned as the men on the other side of the wagon’s wall surrounded her tits and smothered them with kisses, licks, and sucks. She had no fear of their sickness. She knew Mardoch would protect her.
Or maybe she would be protected by that pulsating mark on the back of her neck. It was hammering like a drum. Beating so hard she could feel it in her clit.
“Yessssssss,” she moaned. “Ohhhh, suck my breasts. That’s right. Ohhhhh, let me feel your stiff cocks.”
She did not have to wait long. The men stopped kissing and sucking at her breasts and soon she felt at least four cocks rubbing at her tits. Brushing and bending her nipples with their rubbing tips.
Two more cocks were pushed through the holes on either side of her. Sophie laughed, unsurprised to see and feel that all their cocks were very hard. The two cocks she could see were pink despite the unhealthy pallor of the surrounding flesh. As though her sudden arrival had rejuvenated them.
“That’s right,” giggled Sophie. “Ohhhhhh, the more, the better. Everyone will have a turn.”
“This is madness,” cried Brother Bierzo. “You will surely be infected!”
“Mardoch watches over his faithful,” moaned Sophie, pumping her hands on the two lumpy, poxy cocks in her grasp and feeling more rubbing all over her breasts. The dark mark on the back of her neck rewarded Sophie with hot pulses of pleasure.
Bierzo knelt nearby and lowered his head, praying to the amulet of the four pillars that he clasped in his hands.
“Oh, Holy Father Mardoch, forgive them for their sins. They are weak in the face of temptation and driven to profane acts. Watch over the sick and the misled…” His voice grew lower as his prayer continued.
Sophie was glad she didn’t have to hear him. She knew what Mardoch wanted. Why else had he presented her with this aching, throbbing feast of cocks to finally satisfy her urges?
“That’s right,” she gasped, feeling the first precum slicking her fingers and smearing her tits. “Doesn’t that feel nice? Don’t you love my body?”
“Ohhhh, yes,” groaned one. “The angel wants our cum!”
“That’s right,” cried Sophie, pumping her hands even more urgently on the two cocks. “Cum for me! Let me feel your pleasure! You deserve relief from your suffering! AHHH!”
She felt the warm, sticky shower commence. Hot splashes of cum hit her breasts and dripped from her stiff nipples. Spurt after spurt pouring out all over her glazed mounds. It was only a moment more before the two cocks in her hands erupted almost in unison. Long, glistening white ropes of spunk arced through the night air and splattered the roadside. As the flows of cum diminished, she made sure to milk out every pearly drop.
The pleasure Sophie felt was intense, a rejuvenating relief that washed over her, but she had only just begun.
“I have something better for you,” cried Sophie. “Right here. But you’ll each have to take a turn!”
She turned her plump bottom around and pressed her cheeks to the wooden wall of the wagon. With a shift of her hips she squeezed her hot, glistening cunt to the hole and offered it up to the men inside.
“Go on,” she gasped. “Fuck me! Each man can have a turn!”
“No, brothers!” cried Brother Bierzo. “Resist her! Resist this harlot’s temptation!”
“Oh, you’ve heard of my good works?” Sophie laughed, peering down at the kneeling monk as she wiggled her hips against the hole. “Yes, I am the Harlot Knight! Come on, lads. Give me those poxy pricks! Feed your lust into me!”
Sophie heard thumping and grunting from the other side as the plague victims grappled and fought to be the first to have a turn with Sophie. She thrust a cum-smeared hand between her legs, strumming herself and spreading her cuntlips apart to further entice the men inside the wagon. The invisible darkborne mark on her neck thrilled her with pleasure and fed the fires of her ravenous desire.
There was a brief outburst of strained shouting and a thump and then Sophie felt the hardness of a cock pressed against her fingers. She grasped the lumpy tip and fed it into the hot seam of her cunny.
“OOOOooooooo, yesss,” she cried. “Every man can have a turn! Fuck meee!”
The wagon began to rock as the afflicted man on the other side of the wall thrust his cock through and sawed it in and out of Sophie’s slick cunt. It felt incredible. If anything, the darkpox made his cock even harder and covered in thick nodules that beat against her clit. It was depraved and incredible. She was rewarded after only a few seconds with a loud groan and a hot surge of cum into her pussy.
“Yessss, give it all to me,” cried Sophie, feeling a thrilling rush of pleasure that dispelled her fatigue and slaked her thirst.
The cock slipped free of Sophie’s creamy pussy and after a bit more jostling another hard cock was fed into her cunt. This man lasted only three strokes before letting out a desperate moan and emptying his bollocks into Sophie’s tight cunt. The third man found her dripping with spunk and shoved his cock in anyway. He lasted a bit longer, long enough to make Sophie nearly cum, before drawing his cock out and spurting his spunk all over Sophie’s messy cunt.
“That’s it,” cried Sophie, rubbing at her clit as he squirted against her. “Every man… don’t stop… ohhhhh! How many are inside the wagon, Brother Bierzo?”
“Fourteen, damn you,” cried the priest. “You demonic harlot! Your sins will follow you into the afterlife!”
“That might be true,” laughed Sophie, rocking back against her latest lover and making the wagon shake, “but this hardly makes the list. I’m doing this… oooooohhh… to serve Mardoch!”
“No!” cried the monk, clapping his hands over his ears. “No! I will not listen to such lies!”
He turned his back on Sophie, which suited her just fine as one man after another thrust inside her and filled her frothing cunt with his load of cum. She counted seventeen, so at least three men must have managed to take a second turn. They were finally exhausted just before dawn and Sophie, filthy with their spunk, climbed down from the wagon’s sideboard with a smile on her face.
Brother Bierzo was kneeling nearby, chanting prayers to Mardoch with his back turned from the carnal sight of Sophie, her thighs dripping with cum.
“I am sorry I couldn’t offer the same to you, Bierzo,” she giggled. “But keep the faith. I’m sure Mardoch will repay your sacrifice eventually.”
She leaned down and planted a kiss on his bald head.
The poor monk moaned in horror and scrambled away from her, climbing back atop the wagon and whipping the oxen. The huge beasts bellowed and pulled at the yoke. The wagon’s wheels churned dusty tracks in the mountain road as Brother Bierzo and his collection of dying men rode away. Sophie waved to them as they disappeared around the bend.
She was well-rested and eager to resume her journey. Mardoch had shown her the way to the Blasted Cathedral and had provided her with a source of strength to serve Him. Maybe He was beginning to favor her after all.
3
The Darkness Upon Vinecio
The Torra Bridge was an ancient aqueduct bridge built at the height of Trentino’s power. Centuries old now, it remained a wonder of stonework that crossed the wide expanse of the Rinn River’s floodplain from the westernmost mountains of Heraklion and into the green mountains of Trentino. Though Sophie had traveled the world in the years since her family’s downfall, she was still amazed by the incredible views the bridge afforded from such a height.
And the bridge was really high above the Rinn.
Alberto whinnied and stomped his hooves. A loose stone that skittered off the side of the bridge seemed to hang in the air for an eternity before splashing into the river. Sophie’s tummy twisted in knots as she led her reluctant horse across the bridge. They were so far above the river that the fishing launches in the water seemed no bigger than tiny pieces of flotsam. The river stretching as far as she could see to the north and south and the lesser mountains of Trentino arranged to the west like some rumpled bed of green velvet. Rains darkened the skies in that direction, and she knew it would be far from the baking daylight heat she had endured for most of her journey so far.
Across the bridge, Sophie and Alberto entered the ancient foothills of Trentino. Small villages clung to the green slopes of the lesser mountains. Forgotten places where life had little changed in the coming and going of a dozen empires in Trentino. Invaders had come, had been cast out, and had come again. The farmers still grew their olives and raised sheep and goats.
It was late in the afternoon, after passing several small villages, that Sophie caught her first glimpse of the city of Vinecio. Being the northernmost great city of Trentino, the dark spires, peaked roofs, and iron-girded walls of the huge city bore hints of Bravuran architecture. It was a dark place, smoggy and sooty, with a gloominess that seemed fitting for its position in the shadows of the high mountains. Snowcapped peaks rose behind it and more difficult terrain to the west. There lay the Blasted Cathedral. Hidden in some mountain redoubt, a place once blessed that had fallen to blasphemy and perversion.
Mardoch had directed her there with a ray of light, but the exact location of the cathedral remained to be discovered.
“Later,” said Sophie, squinting up at the snowcapped mountains that lay beyond Vinecio. She patted Alberto’s side. “First, we get some rest in the city. A stable for you and a warm man for me.”
Sophie found no welcome at the entrance of Vinecio. The closed gates were scrawled with a yellow painted sign reading POXBEARERS FORBIDDEN beneath a crude depiction of a skull. A guard in a pot metal helmet peered down from atop the city wall.
“The plague is about,” he shouted down. “You’d do best to move on. Unless you have medicine or meat to trade. Beef is best. No trade? No visitors.”
“I have business in the city,” said Sophie. “I have no pox.”
The guard paused and looked her over. Peering down from above he no doubt had a good view of Sophie’s breasts threatening to overflow her armored cups.
“Show me you ain’t got pox marks,” demanded the guard. “Hold up your arms and turn around.”
She held her arms up over her head, turning slowly and in a way that accentuated her voluptuous body. She could feel the guard weighing his chances with her against the possibility that she bore the darkpox.
“I don’t have a mark on me,” she called up to him. “But you can let me in and… check me all over. If you’d like.”
The guard leaned his head back over the wall, conferred with another guard, and then shouted down.
“Alright, woman, I will let you in.” He added with a grin, “But we’re gonna check you carefully.”
“That’s what I’m counting on, big boy,” muttered Sophie, smiling back at him and waving her agreement.
The guard opened a small door in the guardhouse and brought Sophie inside while the other guard brought Alberto into the lock between the inner and outer gates. Sophie was immediately set upon by the first guard. He was a very short, pale man with a drooping dark mustache covering a harelip. His head was even with Sophie’s ample breasts. That seemed to suit him just fine as he found the lever that opened the cups of her armored bodice and latched his hot mouth to a nipple without hesitation.
“Heyyy!” cried Sophie as he began sucking and squeezing her tits. “This doesn’t feel like much of… oooohhh… an inspection.”
“No worries, love,” said the other guard, returning from dealing with Alberto. He was even shorter, with a balding head of dark hair and a similar drooping mustache. “I’ll check the back and Givanno can check the front. Right?”
“That’s right Giuseppo,” agreed the half-sized guard slurping away on Sophie’s stiff nipples.
She was naked and being squeezed, prodded, licked, and sucked from both sides right there in the guardhouse. Giuseppo got down on his knees and began lewdly tonguing Sophie’s rump and fingering her slick cunt. Givanno grabbed Sophie by her slick nipples, yanking her lower and forcing her to bend over. When she did, Givanno began passionately kissing her and thrusting his tongue into her mouth.
“Mmmmmmmnnn!” objected Sophie. “You two have no charm!”
“Any sign of the pox?” asked Givanno before stuffing his tongue back into Sophie’s mouth.
Giuseppo lifted his face from Sophie’s plush bottom and replied, “No sign here. But I’ll have to get deeper. Perhaps… something other than my tongue. But she is delicious… mmmmnnnnnnnllmlmlmlmm.”
Sophie cried out as the guard wagged his tongue up her bum. She might have minded how deep that tongue was going if it weren’t for his skilled fingers frolicking on her clit. She found herself rocking her soft cheeks in his face and moaning loudly into Givanno’s overwhelming kiss. Pleasure rippled through her and with it a rejuvenating burst of strength.
She bucked, she gasped, and her tits swung as she moaned into Givanno’s lips. The more she came, her little asshole squeezing against Giuseppo’s tongue, the more she needed to be fucked.
“You’ll have to check me from the inside,” gasped Sophie, still shaking her hips. “With your cocks. Both of you.”
The two little guards were eager to answer Sophie’s call. She cried out with delight as Givanno pulled her astride his scrawny hips and dragged his cock out of his pantaloons. She felt it poking into her dangling breasts and she used her arms to press around him and massage him. Giuseppo finally had his fill of Sophie’s delectable ass and he stood behind her with a grunt of effort. He grabbed a hunk of butter from a dish and spread it on the red helmet of his prick.
“Oooh, yes, put that up my ass,” moaned Sophie, looking over her shoulder and reaching back to spread her cheeks for him.
“Brazen slut!” laughed Giuseppo and he shoved his buttered cock straight into Sophie’s tongue-lathered clench.
“Ahhhhh!” cried Sophie, feeling his slippery hardness slide past her tender ring. “That’s it. Don’t hold back, big boy. Pound my ass like you own it!”
“OooooooOOOOOhhhh! YESSsssSSS!” whined Giuseppo, grabbing Sophie’s round hips and hammering into her buttery backdoor. Sophie loved the feel of his hard cock sliding into her rear. She shook her plush bottom and pushed back against Giuseppo. She also put the momentum of each of his eager thrusts to good use as she rocked forward and massaged Givanno’s hard prick between the smothering weight of her tits.
A normal woman might have found it distracting trying to wank a man with her breasts and getting her ass fucked at the same time. Sophie was no normal woman. She was a powerhouse of carnal pleasure, deftly arching her back and riding her breasts along Givanno’s cock as the little soldier gasped and humped at her heavy hangers. His plentiful pre slicked his shaft and offered a slimy lubricant for the jiggling embrace of her breasts.
“That’s it,” panted Sophie, feeling their rising pleasure in the throbbing of her darkborne mark. “Use me from both ends. Oh, yes, I want to feel your cum. Don’t hold back. Teach me about the strong warriors of Vinecio.”
“You should… should be in the bawdy house,” groaned Givanno, humping furiously at Sophie’s soft mounds.
