Thine Own Armour

This story takes place in a journaly format, something I've been meaning to try but hadn't come up. Until now! I hope y'all enjoy, and let me know if you liked it!

As for content, there's some non-consenty stuff but it's all pretty magical. Who doesn't wanna be groped for wearing skimpy armour, anyways?

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Aurochs 7th, 309 NC

The last mission went on without a hitch. Had to clear out an old ruin, the kind that inevitably drew in unsavoury monstrous types to dwell within its fallen walls. Sometimes I pity them, but the villages around it pay handsomely to have the grounds swept and cleared of the beasts and beings who would eat their cattle or frighten their sheep. Minimal resources spent this time, only a health potion and some oil to burn out a waspbear nest.

Among the scattered relics and desecrated tombs, I found an item of particular interest. It's a set of armour unlike any I've ever seen. There are no tool marks visible; as if formed entirely from a single piece of silvery white metal. But that cannot be! It is clearly the work of some master smith, and yet...

The armour exposes far too much. If one were to wear it, they would have no protection around the chest or the upper thigh. I thought that perhaps one could wear it over another set of clothing, perhaps a linen weave or leather that could pick up the slack for the parts it didn't protect. But alas, the armour itself seems crafted to fit tight to the skin. I have many concerns and hesitations about using it for myself, but perhaps my armourer in Whalesbrook will know more.

Aurochs 10th

I cannot believe my fortune! I brought the queer armour to my contact and supplier, Gora of the Windward Sea. She's not only a formidable warrior, but she has the finest mind for metalwork I know of. Upon showing her my find, she seemed to recognise it immediately. Nevertheless, she spent a quarter hour examining it, trying to find proof that it was a forgery. But to her learned eye, there was no doubt: it was the genuine article.

The armour I found was not just of the finest craftsmanship, but it was the armour of a Paladin of Zoros, the Elven God of Hope, Beauty, Sharing, and a number of other positive concepts. The lack of protection, as Gora explained to me, was a test of faith of the wearer. If one was strong of heart and will, the enemy would not be able to land blows. But if one should falter, it would be no less than one's own funeral vestments.

She offered me king's ransom for the armour. After hearing the precise number she offered, I almost gave it to her on the spot! But something held me back, and I told her I'd have to think about it. This was likely a one in a lifetime find. To part with it so quickly feels wrong. It's armour, after all. What could it hurt to wear it once? I could always throw a tunic over it if I start getting questioning looks.

Aurochs 11th

I wore the Zoros armour around town during my errands for the day. It being so tight to the skin, it fit naturally under a baggy tunic and breeches. Some bulging out of the fabric around the shoulders and elbows, but otherwise difficult to notice. If I couldn't feel its cling I would have forgotten it was there as well. It weighs almost nothing, yet Gora insisted that it could withstand a direct hit from a housebound lancer. I'll admit to having my doubts, given the lack of protection, but whoever had constructed it had put great care into its fabrication. The creators had known what they were doing, otherwise why design something so preposterous in appearance?

Contrary to my previous supposition, it wasn't uncomfortable to wear. Even though the armour fits precisely to my form, it doesn't chafe or pinch at the skin. A part of me wonders how I could have found armour that so perfectly fits someone of my exact proportions. Gora had no explanation, so I will consider it an act of providence.

I have some more things to do before going back into the field. I might just bring the armour with me.

Aurochs 13th

I've been wearing the armour on its own now. At first I worried that people might look at me with derision for wearing such revealing armour. On the contrary; I've received nothing but compliments! Many people seem to appreciate the quality of the work, remarking that it reminds them of other legendary items of note. I only wish it came with a weapon of similar craftsmenship.

While most of the attention is benign, I have noticed a minority react in unexpected ways. I've received more compliments on my appearance than I've ever had from complete strangers in the last day or so. Some I catch staring at me, sizing me up like some kind of roast meat, while others slide into subtle propositions. I take my leave and do my best to defuse the situation, but something about the armour is making me appear more attractive than I believe I am. Or perhaps the revealing nature of the gear is revealing that I have more to offer than I once thought?

Aurochs 14th

The reactions are escalating. I can scarcely leave the room at the inn without being ogled, accosted, or sized up by any number of citizens from all walks and persuasion. One of the guards pressed me to the wall during a "routine" search of my person and, in a move she later tried to play off as accidental, felt up my body in a more than professional manner.

I approached Gora with the problem. She didn't appear affected and claimed to have no knowledge of the persistent charismatic effect that the armour seemed to be having. The orc smith promised to take it up with some friends of hers who might have ideas how to determine the magical effect, if any, of the armour. Before I left, she told me that it was likely for the best that I put away the armour for now. It wasn't like I was on campaign; the streets of Whalesbrook were as safe as any major city could be. I resolved to put the matter aside. Tonight, as I write this, the Elven construct is locked up tight in my room's trunk.

Aurochs 15th

I am wearing it again. I don't even remember putting it on! One moment I was drifting off to sleep, the next I awake to the uncomfortable feeling of metal on my neck as I twisted and turned in bed. At least I kept my smallclothes on this time. There is no doubt that this is magic, but without a clear answer as to what incantation I am under, I feel like I can have no defence against it. I could sell the armour...but to part with such an incredible artefact feels like abandoning the find of my lifetime. I would much rather keep it, without whatever arcane effect is plaguing me.

Aurochs 16th

Gora might have a solution! There is a temple outside Aethira that is said to be home to an Elven oracle, one who can manipulate the magics of her forebearers. It is a lengthy journey to that ancient city, however. I would not make the journey without significant loss of wealth, or limb, should I take it alone.

With my good fortune, Gora proposed that I travel with her! She has deliveries to make, as many clients have sent from far and wide examples of her wares. Her little caravan will consist of several brave folk of my own vocation. I could pay for my transit by assisting in the defence of her goods, and at the end of our jaunt I may find a way to halt the strange behaviour this armour provokes in others. I have pledged myself to her service, and will join her on the morrow.

I confess, these effects are becoming more pronounced the more I wear the armour. I am dominating the attention of the street on which I walk. Whispered comments of a most depraved nature follow me everywhere, and I've been openly propositioned no less than six times this morn. The offers are not solicited nor reciprocated, yet I cannot deny the perverse enjoyment I feel knowing that my body, as mediocre as I thought it once was, is pulling in so much affection. I am grateful for the help of Gora, who so far seems immune to my armour's effects. An island of normality in this turbulent tempest.

Aurochs 17th

We left on the Eastward road to Bayonn, the first stop on Gora's list. Joining us are a motley collection of characters as I've ever seen. Gini is a Goblin woman with a penchant for crossbows and singing to herself, she rides in the carriage to watch for threats in the rear. Selda, a very personable naga, holds down the left side of the road, whilst I patrol on the right. We've made pleasant enough conversation, and aside from the occasional offhand references, the armour goes unremarked upon.

***

Perhaps I spoke too soon. Nary a minute past in between me laying my quill down from this notebook that I was offered the chance to sleep in a bedroll with Gini. 'Conserving warmth' was the offered justification, but a moment's glance at that excuse causes it to wither in the light of day. Nobody seems to react to the strangeness of the request, however. The others pretend like it's not out of the ordinary. Was I overreacting?

Aurochs 18th

I awoke with my arms wrapped around Gini. She was snoring softly, her little belly moving in and out underneath my fingers. I carefully extracted myself, then realized that I had grown...rigid, in her presence. I thought chaste thoughts, but my erection did not drop. I stared longingly at the exposed back of the short woman, my pants painfully tented. What had come over me now? I used some of my canteen water to pour on my own head, and that seemed to cool me off. It was still a good minute or so before I could resume dressing myself, sliding on the armour like it was my second skin.

Gora and Selda were already at work packing up. I helped as best I could, though the looks from Selda were growing distracting. She would also find reasons to brush her long, reptilian body against mine. She offered token apology, but after the third 'beg pardon', I realised these were no accidents. The armour's effects are obvious.

Gora seems to be the only one who doesn't treat me any different. I must admit, a part of me is wondering why. Perhaps she does not like men? Or perhaps she does not like me...Posing the question would seem needlessly self-involved, though it lingers on the tip of my tongue.

We have a long way to go to get to the Elven oracle and potential answers. And with the armour's evident effect, I'm not sure how this party will look by the end.

Aurochs 21st

I feel impertinent even writing about this but...I had a sexual encounter with Selda. To my surprise, Gini elected to sleep with Gora last night. I was saddened to see the little goblin leave my presence, but looked forward to my first night of solitude since leaving on this trek.

My erections had only increased in number and longevity the more I stayed around these attractive women. Previously unremarkable elements enchanted me. Gora's incredible strength. Selda's long, forked tongue. Gini's squeezable thighs...I needed relief, and though I may have made more noise than I liked, I received it. Twice, in fact.

Selda struck just as my eyes drifted shut. Slithering with all the grace as her ancestors, I didn't realize she was coiling around me until it was too late. I sat up, but that only expedited my ensnarement. I thought about reaching for my weapon, but I didn't want to hurt her! I just didn't want to be squeezed to death.

"Shh," she told me, binding my arms to my body in her coils, "I don't mean you harm. In fact, I think you and I can have a lot of fun together! I can see you're pent up. Let me help you~"

Some feat of biology allowed the muscles of her snake-like lower half to ripple. They stimulated every part they touched, including my previously mentioned overexcitable organ. Despite a pair of toe-curling climaxes, my cock was not dormant for long. She cooed when she felt me grow rigid, a helpless moan escaping my lips I'm ashamed to say.

What was more embarrassing is that I wasn't opposed to her attentions. I'm not one to sleep with strangers, and though I'm not a virgin, I usually prefer my encounters to be less spontaneous. But for good or ill, it seemed the armour's effects were altering my preferences. I prayed that they may not alter them further.

And Selda was a beauty. Just now I'm thinking of the sweat glistening off her honey colour skin, her wild black hair, the way she writhed against me. Her breasts were pert handfuls, perfectly accentuating the rest of her lithe body. My protests turned to mutters turned to long, languid licks along her nipples and the side of her neck. Her slit, human in form and placed where her snake half joined with her human half, soon found its way onto my throbbing hard cock. She did all the work, using me in a way no woman ever has before. And I loved every minute of it.

She used her coils to propel me into her, and even when I spurted my seed inside, she continued. Driven by a mad lust, she hissed and experienced a climax of her own. Her pussy rippled around me, and I was in the joyous agony as my refractory period was ignored. I was forced to give up everything to her needy hole and I obeyed...

As I write this, nobody has commented. It's impossible that the other two women don't know, and yet, they stay silent. As do I, to my chagrin. I enjoyed it. I delighted in being her...servant? Her submissive? I'm not sure of the wording, exactly, but it was wonderful. I know the armour is affecting my reason, but I'm struggling to find reasons why I should care.

Aurochs 23rd

We'd barely made it into Bayonn's palisade when Gini made her move. I was riding in the carriage with her to talk and rest my feet. We were having a pleasant discussion about archery. I hadn't even noticed she'd slid on the bench to be next to me. She played with her gorgeous auburn hair tied into pigtails with a finger, looking up at me with chocolate coloured eyes and laughing at my bad jokes.

Somewhere, whether it was the jostling of the carriage or the proximity to such a beauty, my member rose to the occasion. Even after my night time drainings by Selda, my libido remains unchecked. It must have been obvious, as soon Gini's focus was on the lump in my lap. She told me not to worry. Her dexterous fingers quickly undid the lacing to my underwear and before I could object, my cock was in her hands. The carriage had an open back, and as we trailed through the streets of the small town, I was being openly groped by a woman literally half my size!

Why didn't I stop her? I asked myself that, just as I had before. But I feel like I have an answer for that now.

I want this.

To the abyss with the armour. To be wanted, to be teased and toyed with...it fills me with a visceral thrill that I can't explain. It is beyond the adrenalin rush of combat, and so much more than what I thought love making was supposed to be. I liked being the centre of attention. I enjoyed it. And though I blushed and did my best to hide from prying eyes, I cannot deny the thrill I felt when she mounted me properly, sitting herself down onto my cock like a familiar saddle.

"Go on, fill me up!" she said, almost as a demand. I couldn't disobey. This time, I was in control. I grabbed her hips, using her body to jerk myself off and treated her like some kind of sleeve with which to pleasure myself. From the noises she made and the puddle of feminine fluids forming on my thighs, she was enjoying herself just as much if not more. As the carriage continued, we got the occasional look from townsfolk. But most people in this part of the world had heard about the breeding urges goblins get. They shared a glance, maybe a gentle nudge of the elbow to a fellow. Then they carried on with the tasks of the day.

I can hardly believe that such debauched behaviour is so normal to the people around me. But perhaps I was the fool, the one standing in the way with my archaic ideas about propriety and shame. The moment I let those go, when I really pumped into Gini before flooding her tiny body with pent up seed, that's when the clarity of the moment reached me.

This leaves one thing unanswered. I must ask Gora what she knows. As the only one seemingly unaffected, she must have some idea as to why, of all people, she seems immune to my magical charms.

***

I don't know what to say.

I confronted Gora. I bluffed, told her I knew that she had more information than what she was sharing. It worked...but I almost wish it hadn't.

Her initial analysis was correct, as far as she knows. This scandalous, revealing armour is the work of Elven smiths venerating their god Zoros. What she didn't tell me before is that it's the soul, or the internal self, of the wearer that modifies how the armour appears, and how its power manifests. In most of the times it had appeared in history, it took the form of fully mundane plate armour. But when it came to me...it resembles this.

I told her that was impossible. I couldn't be changing the armour, the armour was changing me! Then she showed me what she'd dug up. Woodcuts of the armour's old forms: none of them revealing. And when I asked what was different, she pointed at me.

It was I. I had made the armour revealing. I had corrupted it, somehow, and the mere act of wearing it let out some kind of internal desire to be the sexual centre of attention. I tried to deny it, but deep down inside, it made sense. All I needed was the excuse of a "cursed" set of armour and I became the horniest man alive.

I asked Gora my final question: why had she not succumbed like the rest had? My answer came in the form of her lifting up her leather skirt. A harsh metal belt wrapping around her waist matched in form by the cage surrounding her nethers. I did not tell a lie about Orc craftsmanship; it not only prevent touching, it had an erotic suppression effect. At some point, she'd locked away her libido. But there was a glimmer in her eyes. Gora had a feral hunger, and I thought I knew how to sate it.

"You don't have to do this," I told her.

"I can't take it anymore," she said. She pulled a key from around her neck and unlocked the chastity belt. It dropped to the ground with a heavy thunk. Her pussy had soaked itself in its shameless need to be pleasured, and looked like it had been that way for a while. "I thought the belt would make me impossible to influence, but all it did was build my frustration. Do not fight back. I must take you."

I didn't resist her. I couldn't; she was stronger in this state of critical sexual frustration. Pinned to the ground, she straddled me and dropped herself down hard, impaling her pussy on me. Her hot, wet confines made me want to lose my load right then and there, but she wasn't satisfied with simple penetration. Her up and down movements were some kind of perverted exercise routine, using my full length and working up a sweat to pound her muscular ass down against me every time. The downsides of having a lover more fit than you is that you are at the mercy of their endurance, and Gora's seemed boundless.

"You're mine," she declared, and I was in no position to deny her. I let her claim her prize, my body, and use it as she saw fit.

Several orgasms on both sides later, the orc woman's pussy was gushing with a lurid mix of our fluids. Other parts of her body were soaked too, slathered in a mix of saliva, sweat, and semen. For the first time in a long time, I feel sated. As did Gora, it appeared, and she got to work tending to the wounds she caused in her mad pursuit of sexual satisfaction. With a medicanter's spells, I should be back to normal in a week or so. Until then, I'll be riding in the carriage again to give my body some much needed rest. I can barely look at a scantily clad woman right now.

All that's to say: what now? We leave the town in the morning, off to the next location. But what becomes of us? Are we all lovers? Is this some kind of mutually beneficial relationship, or are they competitors for my sexual graces? We shall see...we shall see.