once-bandit-now-cleric
SCIENCE FICTION FANTASY

Once Bandit Now Cleric

Once Bandit Now Cleric

by laraynsystrom
18 min read
4.84 (1900 views)
adultfiction

Before I was a cleric, I was a bandit in service to the Bandit Queen Vilagro. I don't remember much from when I was a kid, but I do remember that I once fell out of a carriage, which was then attacked by a group of bandits. They looted the whole thing, even the clothes. They did not leave... survivors. They were bandits, after all. They did some bad stuff to the ones they stole from.

I was a child who fell out of a carriage in the middle of a magical forest at night. The carriage was gone, and my family was likely gone. I remember some lights and sounds that could have been some magical creature trying to eat me, but a wizard found me, and brought me to a village where I grew up. His name was Moel, and he was old, like old-old, ancient. He was pretty much a raisin with a strikingly black beard. Then he died. I remembered that part because it was my first experience with death, other than my family who I could not remember fondly.

After Moel was gone, I was by myself, but many other kids lived there the same. I always wondered why nobody ever visited our town to trade things like I had seen merchants do in the cities. We did have a troupe of adventurers that ventured out though, and they often came back with satchels full of goods, clothing, and treasures. This sustained the village, and kept everyone fed. I was spoiled by a comfort of living that became obvious later. This was not a standard village. This was the home of the Bandit Queen.

As a child, I remembered her as the most beautiful woman of the village. Even the scars on her skin were beautiful. She wore a lot of leather, showing a lot of skin, especially the scars. I grew up watching her age, but never lose a single bit of that striking beauty. In the end, or rather into my adolescence, I was in love with her much like a lot of other boys and men in the village. She was the queen, and we were her loyal subjects, and for a Bandit Queen, that meant being bandits ourselves.

Once I was old enough to hold a sword without my arms shaking from the weight, I joined the raiding party. I saw myself as a warrior of justice under her wing. We stole from the rich, but we did more than just steal. I knew a life of killing, and did some of it myself along with the other guys. I was young, and they were all pumped up by Vilagro, someone they could not sleep with unless she requested them.

I was never requested. I was too small for her, was the gist of it. That's what the other guys said, at least. They were really fun to hang out with, spending money on drinks and women, gambling and teaching me how to open locks and undo women's blouses single-handedly, sometimes right in front of me. They were living the life, and brought me along to experience it with them, all in the employ of Vilagro. I could talk about my bandit days for a long time, and detail all the things we did, but I'll save those parts for another day.

I did find my way back from villainy and debauchery, though still managed to get some of it done later. What better place for a thief to go but somewhere nobody knew of the stealthy ways? I could be king alone in the castle, running around naked with the crown on my erection, pooping in corners, and singing a bard's delight of raunchy tales featuring milkmaid's bosoms betwixt my lips. I often dreamed of Vilagro in longing. I was certain the other guys did the same, though they could always go fuck some women at the brothels. I was still too young to join them, but everything changed when I was called to Vilagro's chambers one night, right after I was old enough for brothels.

I was confused. I was certain my thing was too small for her because of what the guys told me. As soon as I was eighteen, and I could go into brothels, I had taken to doing a lot of other things for the girls to fill the shoes of other men they had been with. I used my fingers, my tongue, and my lips. They were tools of my inadequate size; all spurred on by older guys who went between plundering nobles and favoring the one girl at the brothel that looked the most like Vilagro.

I ended up becoming the Bandit Queen's favorite bedroom toy soon after the brothels allowed me to partake. It was a dream come true, seeing as the thoughts of her naked body over my bed kept me awake at night growing up.

I knew she liked it when I stuck my tongue into her asshole the most. She would rub herself off furiously while my tongue danced wildly in the tight wrinkles of her sphincter. She kept it reasonably clean, as if there had been many who licked there before me, but none as gently as me.

She would often climax and sit over my face dripping over my chin and neck. Sometimes, I joined her in masturbating and came all over the scars on her naked chest, the concoction taking a mountain path down her rugged muscles. She rubbed it into the skin like a lotion.

I had the sounds of her delight in my ears to such an extent that I dreamed of having sex with her from the other position, one where I was in control. It was unlikely to happen, but I wanted her to take me into her mouth just once as she did so often in my dreams.

Before long, Vilagro stopped me from joining her for the raids. She demanded I stay back at the village and be ready upon return. I was being kept as an item, and Vilagro would return covered in blood, only to sit on my face and grind against my head until she came, sometimes almost drowning me as she relieved herself after finishing. Even if that was my life, I was hard every second of being with her, but she never got me off in return except once.

I wanted to be mad at the thought, one day just change positions and slam myself inside her pussy as a surprise, or into her mouth, or even her asshole, but I knew she could kill me in an instant. I felt used, and discarded. I wanted it to stop, to run away. I wanted to take from her, just as I took from nobles we used to raid. I did not delight in it as much as the other guys, but it was a good break from the ladies in the brothels who welcomed so many various dicks that it was increasingly difficult for someone of my size to enjoy myself. Nothing tighter than a rich pussy or asshole, as the guys used to say.

Now, I know what you might be thinking. This man is the luckiest guy to get to touch the essence of true beauty in the world, to be chosen and kept as a prize, but I genuinely missed the adventuring and thieving of the raiding, the banditry. I kept suggesting for Vilagro to take me raiding again, even just as her raid fuck toy, but eventually it angered her so much that she had me thrown into the dungeon beneath the tavern. She sometimes held important people there to trade for ransom.

📖 Related Science Fiction Fantasy Magazines

Explore premium magazines in this category

View All →

Understandably, she found the change of scenery exciting, and had me many ways in chains to her pleasure. I was less than enthusiastic about it, but it was fun to try stuff in a different place, and she even jerked me off once after I made her climax while hanging upside down from my shoulders. I watched her pull her clit up into a tight wrinkle as the sprayed piss into the dungeon cell in the moonlight, steaming hot. She noticed when I got hard from that display, getting poked in the back of the head with my barely noticeable erection.

I wanted her to use her mouth, but she instead clenched her godly abs to curl up into my field of view, wet with sweat, I licked at her stomach as she supported the curl on my erect handle. It only took a few pumps for my jizz to join her puddle of piss in front of us. I had her legs wrapped around my neck, with her flexed abs wet in my face, as the slick pussy danced against my chin. I was just glad to be able to finish, seeing as my hands were bound. It was torture of high magnitude, and I did it to myself by asking to go raiding again.

Eventually, I was able to return to her chambers where I started hatching a plan to get her drugged by pumping a numbing solution into her butthole. It was a great option, seeing as I found myself licking her ass almost every night she was in the village. She was really into that for some reason, but it was becoming clear that she needed variety when she started fucking her pussy with a golden cock made out of chainmail. By the time she was done with it, I rushed to suck the juice out of it, much to her entertainment. She would even have us kiss for a taste sometimes.

Thanks to the numbing solution that left my tongue equally numbed, I escaped my servitude as a sex slave, with a bunch of easy to carry loot. I left her with her ass up into the air and the gold cock deep inside her pussy. If someone walked in to find her like that they would be inspired to jack off on her, at the least, and do some fun stuff at most.

I was certain that she would want me dead after that, but the world was big, and Vilagro was just the bandit queen of a small region surrounding the village that she supplied with her spoils. It was crazy, actually. Everyone in the village took the loot, and reworked it to be unrecognizable and sell back legally for goods the village needed. It really did take a village to raise some hell.

I was FREE! I had coin, and I had tricks to keep it that way. First thing I did was buy a night with a woman at a brothel, only to realize how much I missed doing those things to Vilagro. There was a disparity between beauty standards as well. I knew other women could not match her beauty, but the women in the vicinity of that village were significantly prettier than the women in the village because of the amount of work they got from the men in Vilagro's employ craving her.

"Focus!" A voice exploded in my mind. It was a teacher at a school I went to. I had decided to become a perfect hiding profession of cleric. Vilagro would never look for me among the clergy, and there were tons of nuns and priestesses with inexperience that I could lewd up when I missed those glorious thighs of Vilagro, the Bandit Queen. It was... harder than I thought to learn the clerical arts.

"Purity of the mind, purity of the body, purity of the soul," the teacher would spout. I did some sleuthing of his secret and it was clear he was not keeping pure with the amount of guys' dicks he put in his mouth. I decided that I would also not mind a little virgin nun now and then, sometimes even keeping them so with my lips as they reciprocated with their mouth and hands. I found adventure in the delighted gasps of women, and the voluptuous bosoms that delighted against my tongue.

When I learned my first spell, Holy Light, a year had passed. Granted, I used the spell sometimes to appear angelic to the many women in the employ of the church to secretly spread the services of my quick fingers. Everyone was just a money bag, but what I stole had to be hidden away as it was hard to find a seedy enough shop to sell some items in the town. Everything was being controlled by a central figure in the shadows, even the underhanded dealings.

"Repent!" The teacher shouted at me, knocking me out of a dream cradled between two very soft and warm pillows of a chest. "Errbrrell! Stay awake!"

"Sorry, Colin."

"It's High Priest Colin, Errbrrell!"

"You can't expect everyone to just keep saying it the long way, right?" I looked around the room at the other students. They were all lost to the beliefs of the church. The room was filled with guys, as the priestesses and nuns were taught separate from priests and clerics. It was something about men and women of the church not interacting for some dumb reason. It's like they were afraid that the church would turn into some giant orgy that happened anyway once a year in secret.

I would say only about ten percent of the church staff was truly of pure mind. The rest were just human beings trying to do good while secretly partaking in the same debauchery everyone else did openly, with varying degrees of deviant behavior that I happened to witness when sneaking about at night.

One woman in particular caught my interest, as she often fucked herself with a candle that never burned. The wick was white as the virgin thread used to make it, and the candle was never shorter. I ended up in her room once by accident and had to fight the urge to laugh at her muffled sounds of moans. She was pretty, with silvery hair, and a chest that craved to be free of her cloth.

🛍️ Featured Products

Premium apparel and accessories

Shop All →

I became a cleric. I was able to heal, and to purify. I could de-curse, and could offer blessings that made people feel stronger. I knew the scriptures backwards and forwards, as I knew most of the nuns. I knew a few very peculiar priests who had very deviant kinks, and even once watched the pope of the church participate in that kind of behavior with a young woman that was chained and hooded.

It was quite the spectacle. The woman was naked under the hood that hid her face away, arms spread apart just like I once was in the dungeon. The pope used a gold cane topped with a gold cock. He ran the gold dick with a patterned surface between her legs as she moaned out. When she threw back her hood, it was clear that her eyes and mouth were both covered, while the hood was more of a cloak leaving her front exposed to the old man pushing and pulling on the golden rod inside her.

When she finally came, the old guy pulled the dick rod free, then brought the tip up to his mouth and sucked on it himself. That pope must have had some equally devious background, seeing as he was old as time itself. The only thing good about him was that he was almost dead.

I tried to turn over a new leaf, I really did. I was just... better at the stealthy stuff. I no longer wished to hurt anyone, and with the endless supply of easy steals, I had all the money I could ever want. I buried the treasures away in the graveyard for when it was time to split. I wanted more with her, though. I wanted to sleep beside her, with a handful of warm flesh in my grasp. We hardly interacted, seeing as the male clergy and the female attachment were kept separate in the public eye.

She was one of those ten percent I mentioned, a woman of purity that was not just a mask. Save for her weekly candle straddling, she was serene in her day-to-day life. I was slowly falling for her, and she had no idea I existed. Her name was Marsti Valtan. I was certain she heard rumors of the anonymous cleric who was promiscuous with the ladies of the church. I wondered what she thought about that, and decided to create a breakthrough for myself.

The female attachment of the church regularly went through confession, as did the male clergy. Most were not truthful in their transgressions. When it came time to hear confession from the part of Marsti's section, I expertly distracted the priest in the booth by telling him about his favorite altar boy currently in the showers to hear Marsti's confession in his place. After filtering a few of the ladies who all feigned impure thoughts for low punishments, it finally came time to hear from Marsti herself.

"Forgive me for I have sinned," she said quietly, and I was smitten. I wanted her to sin with me. I nodded silently. "I have been doing it again. I give in to desire by use of the candlestick. I think of another member of the church during those moments of weakness."

"Fear not, my child, you can reveal the name," I said, putting on the best old man voice.

"She works in the kitchens," Marsti said. I did a double take. All the best ones had interests beyond being with me. "Her name is Kione. Her smile is so kind, and I think of her naked in my bed. This makes me so very sinful, father."

"No, my child," I said. "This makes you very human. Have you considered leaving the church to be with this woman, to break your vow for love?" Silence. "My child?"

"Yes, Father," she said. "I have been thinking of breaking my vow. Please humble me with the hardest task of passages."

"My child, I must humble you with an even harder task," I said, letting go off her in my heart. She had no interest in guys, but I appreciated her seeking to have someone to hold. The ten percent of pure people at the church suffered the most. I wanted to help her. "You must confess to Kione what you have told me. You must tell her that you think of her when you sin in your bed."

"Father!" Marsti gasped. "That would break my vow! The church can't possibly want me to leave it."

"The church does not want, my child," I said, "But a heart desires. The church cannot prevent a heart from desiring, or it would cease to exist. Go forth with the task assigned or forever live in sinful straddling of your candlestick, muffling your moans in a pillow, while slobbering all over it until your eyes roll back at the moment of climax and your body goes slack."

"Father, how did you...?" she asked, as I slipped out of the booth to make my exit. It was time to take the cleric thing on the road with some adventure. I only remained until I could see Marsti give her confession to the Kione in the kitchens. Not surprisingly, the woman was taken with shock, and blushed crimson when Marsti detailed her exploits with the candlestick to her. Then, they kissed.

That night, they were together. I visited to see the fruits of my labor hiding skillfully as Marsti dove down on the woman of the kitchens to plunder her vagina with that hungry tongue. All that drool would finally be put to good use, and the woman being tongue-fucked held Marsti up against herself in desire while letting out a solid moan into the room. I wanted to stay and watch them use the candlestick that never burned together, but it was time to make my escape. After that experience, I was hard the whole way to the graveyard to get my loot before splitting town.

It ended up being too much to carry around silently, and I had to brave the church-controlled sleazy shops to offload the heavier bits. I was successful in that. I was alone again, pretending to be a cleric, but learned enough to keep some idiots alive. It was time to pick up the idiots, some muscle-brained adventurers that I could rob blind if they crossed me, some lucky guy and a few ladies that would be up for an orgy sometimes while resting, that I could trade healing for a taste of promiscuity. I was looking forward to finding them and starting an adventure.

Enjoyed this story?

Rate it and discover more like it

You Might Also Like