The portcullis groaned as it raised, shaking off the rust of years of disuse. They raised only half of their height at ten feet, the walls ran easily to fifty. Carefully cut and fitted stone reinforced with concrete and backed by feet of clay/sand, they weren't just impressive walls; they were absolutely marvelous. Stepping through, the bailey was no less impressive.
As a veteran Paladin of dead goddess Dolleya I'd been 'entrusted' with this new convent, a former frontier outpost left abandoned after the Godswar. With a trackless forest bleeding to jungle to one side, a savannah to another, and a canyon with a pit to the Netherlands basically in its backyard, one might say the keep had access to a variety of locales.
The keeps original purpose had been to establish a foothold to trade with and colonize the local area. Its builders, a conglomerate of merchants with dreams of empires, had spared no expense. Designed by engineers who typically create art, constructed by only Master Craftsmen from the Dwarven and Gnomish unions, enchantments laid by the ancient elves who invented them in at least two cases, and rumors that a human lich was brought in were confirmed. The costs were ostentatious beyond measure, but these men thought they were building a palace. Instead they built a tomb.
Their hubris and avarice killed them. When ordered to butcher the local leaders and their families at a unity festival as a show of force, their hobgoblin mercenaries killed them instead. Hobgoblin contracts are famously lengthy, an astute procurer of their services would have at least read the entire contract. Of note in this instance was a section titled 'Principle Variance'. The line in particular 'Mandates regarding non-combatants may be applied to commissioning party at no fault' clearly hadn't been read by the young oligarch who'd given the order.
Those same hobgoblins stood at attention in the bailey. Only 12 of forty had survived the fighting that followed. Their leader marched towards me and my heart stopped. Her muscular frame at eye level with me, her familiar shoulders as broad as mine in armor. "Paladin, the troops stand for inspection" she giggled as she raised a salute, lips quivering away a smile.
I tackled the big badass in a hug "FIRST!" She bellowed a laugh and the entire formation broke out as well. "You were the company?" I asked, I hadn't caught up yet.
"After the war, godling, some of us had to go back to our day jobs." She twanged as we broke our embrace. She continued, raising an eyebrow "Temple didn't tell you nothin', huh? We asked for ya, special." Her smile became wolfish, enlarged canines and sharp teeth bared. "Lowered our asking fee if'n ya 'provide nourishment through divine means'."
Catching her meaning I began to harden, and redden... "I thought the effects were undesirable...?" The food source they had in mind was me. They'd fed off of me when supplies ran low in the war. Having a battalion of warriors well fed and not draining precious resources was a godsend logistically. Hobgoblins could adapt to anything, all they really needed was sugar and protein...
First chortled "undesirable for combat maybe, but methinks ya might should've read the contract yerself a little closer..."
I paled, "Sovereign entity of Fool's Errant will ensure replenishment of protection unit, three again their present number" dazed I spoke the words, realizing their implications, I looked over my former sisters in arms.
Each was at least of a height with me at 6'6, but far more robust. Twenty four inch biceps and thirty inch thighs... buzzcuts, top knots, mohawks, braids and dreads. Mottled skin patterns in grey scale and brick, streaks of red to resemble open unbleeding wounds... with time and effort they could adapt themselves to anything. Presently, they still appeared as I'd known them, unstoppable hellrending warriors.
And every one of them knew of the endowment my Mother gave her sons...
Apparently she'd come to them in a dream, told them where to find sustenance. After that my time in war grew a bit more surreal. Have you ever had your cock sucked in a foxhole? I have. It's fuckin weird. Ultimately, I was the only one who ever got hungry. It might be magic jizz, but the rest of my body needed sustenance for all the killing and not dying. You ever had hunger pangs while a thick necked sharp toothed grunt sucked you like it was her fuckin job? Basically ruined blowjobs for me... almost.
Speaking of, Taohn had elected to do away with the proboscis, finding breathing easier without a nose, instead she had something that looked like gills. The larger than average hob winked when she caught his eyes, her lids now apparently sideways...
First I leaned in close, "give us a couple of weeks and summah that pink shit and you'll be looking at different women." She turned back towards the half platoon, "Bitches!" She roared, the others barked and whooped in return. "A worthy male has been found" she twanged. Cries of anger and dissent roared out. Soldiers who had nursed from my cock called for my death in horrible, horrible ways... "SILENCE!" The voices stopped instantly, this was beginning to have the ring of ceremony...
"This is no mean male, but a godling." Whispers already amongst the warriors. "A child of our goddess Dolleya." Whoops and cries rose up "and seasoned with war!" Seasoned? Am I a fucking skillet?
The grunts called back criticisms "He looks small! Humans never get me off! If I break him it's not my fault!" They went on for a while. Some were genuinely hurtful... at least I knew the ones about my cock were a lie. First, I listened to everyone, not responding to any. Not knowing what the hell to do I kept my mouth shut.
"This man is known to us, he shed blood with us, he's provided of himself with no recompense."
"But with much discomfort!" Guffaws followed for a time as I learned from their stories that they had made a game of making me squirm... though many agreed monocular vision had its uses.
"I name him Dilin, orphaned Paladin of Dolleya. Endowed with a cock that enshrines Her tenants. Pleasure, preservation, and transformation." She spoke the words with the conviction of a true believer.
"And pink cum!" Again guffaws.
"I will be First, this is our home now." A somber silence spread through the gathered group. "Gather in the mess in the evening, prepare bedding assignments." She paused for a moment, carefully considering her next words, then with a smile "zonk".
Shouts of what could only be described as glee filled the air as she said the word and everyone sprinted away as fast as they could. Everyone including me.. "We ain't done talking yet."
The burly broad guided me to a bench as the rest were already flowing into the palace proper, searching for quarters. "Not like you don't know where your quarters are, you can see em later." Her tone became more serious.
"You know what it means for me to be First?" I shook my head. "My clan desires your seed. From your genes we will make ourselves stronger." Her tone was that of lecture. "Yer Mother crafted ya ta be the perfect you, man or not. And perfect genes is perfect, no matter what..." She flashed me her canines.
"First it is my duty to evaluate your seed for its worth. I drank you first and you will fill my womb first." She continued with a laugh, taking a moment to flex and kiss each bicep. "So far, I'm impressed..." she dropped to her knees before me and tightened her topknot. "Tell me, godling, while I suck your cock. What form shall I take as your wife?"
Fucking what now? "Uhhh??"
"I'm taking you as my husband." Her fingers undid my trousers and unfastened the straps of my codpiece. Her eyes commanded my attention "look at me, godling, all of me".
She knelt before me on both knees, meaty hands pressing my thighs apart. "We are Sister of War '' her fingers capped with small talons I knew were perfect for shredding a fiend's eyeball... pecs that dwarfed mine and breasts a top them firm, adapted to absorb impact. "We are hunters of that which would destroy" a thick frame and wide hips made a broad base, rippling abs I'd seen flex as she and her sisters wrestled demons to the ground. "We are weapons."
Shoulders my fingers stretched to almost cover. A maw where the incisors were the dullest, past her enlarged canines and tusks her teeth became sharp and shredding, the muscles of her jaw bulging with power. Her features appeared more akin to a bully mastiff than a human, built for war. Her thick skin, a medley of slate and mahogany, stretched taut over harsh features. The pattern served to break up her outline and enhance her stealth at night, it also served as a reminder that this warrior singularly existed for one singular purpose. To kill.
"Before the war, before we knew your Mother, we lived only for battle, power, and pleasure. Singular in cause, a united clan. Hunters of monsters." The brute's eyes held mine "your Mother showed us how to use that power. And how to have more fun doing it..." Her talons began to lift the mithral plate away.
Far too large for armor to practically accommodate, my cock had been an annoyance and a liability at times. On my eighteenth birthday my eldest sister gifted me what looked like a thin vaginal codpiece. In fact, it was one of her own cock sheaths. Since then I've felt like I was walking around with my dick out every day; her perpetual smugness is more relatable to me now.
Words cannot describe the freedom I felt the first time I caught a rager in public and could just walk about. No one staring, no uncomfortable tenting, no uncomfortable bend in my unit... that was the worst. Having to fish into my pants to straighten the bastard out was embarrassing at best... I didn't care for the rumors about the "cockless crusader" but I had an idea to avenge that particular slight another day...
