Behind the curtain, the woman's silhouette shifted—broad at the hips, thick in the thighs, shoulders strong and dusted with scars that pulsed faintly under the sparse light seeping into the abandoned hall. Elias's breath caught and locked itself tightly inside his throat.
Her broad hips swayed slow and hypnotic as she peeled off the worn heavy straps of her chest guard, cold metal groaning loud scraping against her bruised soft skin before it finally fell away with a heavy thud—revealing those massive impossibly full fat boobs hanging heavy and perfect.
rock-hard nipples actually leaking tiny glistening milk droplets that trailed slow seductive paths down her swollen pale tit curves, beading perfect on pink areolas like sweet forbidden nectar begging sucked dry.
Elias' breath caught dead in throat, heart SLAMMED brutal against ribs like war drum. Pure Holy Truth devotee—untouched virgin warrior sworn never fucked by any man, living chaste life serving god—her fat boobs producing real mother's milk?!
His demon left eye locked IN zooming every single shiny milk drop sliding slow down tit valley, every massive swollen heaving curve glistening sweat—fat boobs looked HEAVILY USED like someone sucked them BRUTAL hard draining everything, veins bulging swollen purple from rough milking, then spotted dark purple bite marks scattered all across soft tit-flesh, deep tooth impressions bruised angry red with hickey rings, nipples stretched elongated from violent sucking—NOT battlefield wounds from swords or arrows.
Pure chaste devotee leaking milk from fat bitten boobs?!
SHOCK ripped through innocent Elias like lightning bolt → horrifying realization crashed hard → massive evil GRIN split demon face slow, predatory, triumphant—this MILK SECRET = perfect blackmail or maybe seduction weapon force mighty warrior spread thick thighs let demon suck drain those swollen leaking tits completely dry daily whenever craving hits!
Pure terror collided UNHOLY ECSTASY exploded inside—cock throbbed BRUTAL leaking thick hot precum soaking Sancthorn pants sticky wet, mouth watered desperate taste warm sweet creamy milk flooding tongue straight from rock-hard leaking nipples,
hands twitched CRAVE grab crush squeeze fat leaking boobs brutal till milk SPURTS fountain arcs spraying walls choking purple bruising fingerprints embedded permanent deep white skin.
Visions flooded endless detailed: pin warrior goddess hard against cold stone wall, ram throbbing cock deep between milk-dripping cleavage tit-fuck savage throat-deep while biting bruised tit-flesh bloody SCREAMS echo chamber, yank golden hair back hard arch spine shove her face smother suffocate between own milk-boobs gasping, ram fingers deep sopping virgin pussy stretch walls gaping while thumb crushes throbbing clit, turn battle-hardened goddess into milk-leaking fuck-cow BEGGING daily drainings spread fat ass cheeks wide expose virgin pink asshole ram balls-deep wreck gaping cum-filled while choking fat milk-boobs purple turn screams prayers cock-worship!
Those massive fat tits hung low swollen like overripe juicy fruit dripping milk-need, igniting demon pulse WILD relentless body-shaking cock hammering desperate ram balls-deep EVERY virgin hole ruin completely turn holy warrior filthy cum-dump.
Behind the torn curtain, every slow, deliberate movement of the golden-haired warrior summoned a primal lust inside Elias—the demon lurking behind his eye, stroking itself with wicked satisfaction on the rising waves of sin flowing off her perfect, battle-scarred form.
It was the first time in his life he had dared to see a woman so truly alive—so fiercely intoxicating mix strength vulnerability raw fuck-me sensuality screaming cock-bait. Each fabric slipped skin every heavy pain-heat breath stoked fire shadowed self pulling deeper darkness—demon craving rip clothes expose fat dripping boobs soaked pussy mound thick ass cheeks spread wide, turn battle-hardened warrior into cum-drooling whore begging demon cock mercy.
But what rooted him in place wasn't innocence.
It was the forbidden, dark pulse slipping into him again—a cold, electric shiver running down his spine, gathering in his left eye—a slow-burning black glow blooming like a slit pupil opening wide, hungry.
His breath slowed and deepened… heavier… more deliberate.
Not Elias.
Not the shy, blushing boy.
The other one.
She untied leather breastplate next, fingers trembling fresh wounds across ribs—exposing scarred shoulder blades leading massive heavy boobs barely contained torn fabric, rock-hard nipples poking desperate sucked milked bruised. Worn armor surrendered soft touch falling dull thud beaten boots—revealing sweat-streaked cleavage valley begging motorboated tongue-fucked, bruised ribs framing perfect fuckable torso made choked filled.
Her thick hips rolled removing every worn strap buckle, revealing huge swollen fat boobs again—mundane some but demon-eaten Elias saw pagan fuck-altar ripe sinful worship leaking real milk.
Nipples stood proud taut leaking droplets made cock throb violently sanctified cloth—aching bury balls-deep ram throat-deep gagging mouth while choking milk-boobs purple, fill fullness brutal pounding stretch virgin pussy asshole gaping screaming savage ecstasy till milk-warrior crawls begging demon seed mercy.
Demon grinned wicked visions bruised bitten milk-boobs leaking white nectar pussy squirt, plotting blackmail "reveal lactation secret" force suck sessions daily.
Her belly taut powerful beckoned smooth silk steel—muscles tight battle-fire scarred sweat-sin kissed, perfect abs leading shaved pussy mound cameltoe throbbing heat. Demon imagined hands roaming low slow lips nipping sun-baked skin tracing scars sacred scripture, tongue licking navel down clit sucking swollen folds, fingers shoving deep stretch tight cunt walls while biting hips bruising till shudders ravenous hunger turns battle-hardened abs quivering cum-soaked mess.
Low strangled whimper tangled throat when fingers slipped neckline tunic peeling fabric wicked blooming flower—demon consumed juicy swollen pussy lips glistening untouched slick desire captive blood battle years. Sight cut demon twisted core ragged breath: crave ram scorching cock fill tight virgin pussy hole balls-deep breed womb pregnant, drag raw sinful moans lips choking throat silent, claim plush fat cunt unholy dominion stretch gaping leak cum while ass cheeks spread virgin asshole wrecked brutal.
Elias's demon-self leaned forward, breath faltering, eyes wide with hunger and worship.
The mature scent of sweat and feral musk—the undeniable heat of a woman forged in fire—
It infected him utterly.
She reached for a bowl of herbal water and dipped a cloth inside, the liquid shimmering promise of renewal. Evidently, she had just returned from a bloodied mission—her entire torso marked with angry, bleeding gashes longing to be kissed into healing.
Slowly… painfully slowly… she shed her remaining garments to clean her wounds, each garment sliding off like a lover's reluctant touch, revealing more of that pale, sweat-slick warm flesh beneath.
She bent gracefully pick something floor—innocent mundane act exposed wide perfect arch generous flawless fat ass cheeks spread beneath loose trousers, deep crack flashing tight pink asshole winking virgin desperate, plump cheeks begging yanked spread rammed balls-deep.
Her thick fat ass cheeks clenching flexing begging silently fist slam deep throat-choke, throbbing cock split claim virgin tightness asshole stretching wide suffocating fullness gaping wrecked cum-dripping. Demon cock pulsed wildly veins throbbing shadow Elias coiled tighter snap frantic need—crave yank golden hair arch spine spread cheeks expose pucker spit-lube ram relentless ass-fuck pound till bowels filled leaking while choking fat boobs purple turn warrior screams begging demon mercy.
Elias's demon-self's chest swelled—his left eye flared black, staking claim to her shape, her scent, her pain, her fierce strength.
Her curves.
Her scars.
Her fierce, battle-hardened flesh—furious and red, dripping with the promise of dark, unrestrained passion.
He needed to see more.
No—he hungered to devour every sinful inch.
She cleaned each wound with the cloth, wincing softly, her chest rising and falling with deep, ragged breaths.
Finally, she reached into her satchel for new clothes—lighter, softer layers meant for comfort after war.
One by one, she dressed, covering the body Elias's demon-self had feasted on, hiding the scars and sweat he ached to taste. When finished, she folded the old garments with care, placing them precisely in an aged drawer by the wall.
When she turned toward the door, Elias panicked. He dove behind the wardrobe, gripping the wood so tightly his knuckles went white.
She left silently, unaware of the dark fire burning in the shadow of the room.
As the door clicked closed, the black flame in Elias's left eye throbbed with unbearable hunger.
***
Silence reclaimed the hall—dust dancing in the still air, cracked stone underfoot, old tomes untouched.
And the drawer holding the vestiges of her flesh.
Elias emerged, slow and unsteady, drawn by the demon's pull like a moth to unbearable flame.
He moved straight to the drawer, sliding it open with reverent fingers.
The scent assaulted him instantly—warm heavy thick with sweat raw battle AND SWEET CREAMY MILK—woman's true mature fierce scent untainted sin impossible deny. But then his demon eye locked on shiny thick milk stains soaked deep into tunic fabric, pure white creamy droplets beaded fresh on inner cloth glistening wet—THICK DICK-HARDENING MILK straight from those fat leaking warrior boobs! Elias couldn't believe eyes—first time seeing real thick slutty MILF milk from battle-hardened virgin devotee!
Pure SHOCK → CRAZY ECSTASY exploded—cock throbbed BRUTAL leaking rivers precum, mouth watered insane desperate LICK taste warm thick creamy milk coating tongue, hands shook CRAVE suck fabric dry imagine straight swollen nipples spraying fountain! Demon screamed "TASTE IT NOW"—Elias leaned close tongue inches from dripping milk cloth, inhaling deep sweet slutty warrior nectar
Then—FOOTSTEPS.
A jolt of terror yanked him back.
He shoved the clothes into the drawer—everything but—
His hand froze on the soft, lacy panties nestled inside, still warm damp with pussy musk mixed faint milk scent clinging crotch.
A forbidden treasure left by that fierce goddess.
His demon pulsed brutally behind his eye.
Without hesitation, he tucked the stolen silk into his pocket.
He never dared want more.
Silent and fast, he fled—out the back door before anyone could see.
***
He reached for the door—
Pulled—
Only to have it pushed open from the other side.
There she stood.
The warrior goddess, golden hair pulled taut, her battle clothes clean and her posture heavy with an overwhelming authority.
Her eyes widened sharply.
"What… are you doing here?"
Elias froze—his demon extinguished like smoke snuffed out by fear.
He shrank small, shaking, voice breaking.
"I… I'm… s-so… sorry… sister… I w-was—"
Her face hardened, transforming into an icy mask.
Lowering her arm—
click
A flashing blade shot from her armor, halting mere inches beneath Elias's chin.
Her voice dropped, low and threatening.
"I've never seen you in Sancthorn. Who are you? Are you here to sabotage us?"
Elias staggered.
Knees shaking, breath caught.
"N-no… n-no sister… I'm… a new… seeker…"
"WHAT?"
Her tone thundered off the walls.
"What did you say?"
"I—I'm a n-new seeker… sister…"
Her stare scrutinized his worn uniform.
He was in Sancthorn's fold.
She retracted the blade slowly, but her gaze never wavered.
"I've never seen you before. Are you lying?"
The threat hung deadly in the air.
"N-no! I swear to the Holy Truth!"
He lowered his head in desperate reverence.
"I arrived today… Father Augustine accepted me… from another Sanctum…"
A flicker softened her eyes.
Then laughter spilled forth, arrogant and amused.
"So even boys are being devotees now?
What happened? Too scared to fight real battles?"
"I… I…" Elias faltered.
She waved him off with a toss of her hand.
"Relax," she said, her voice shifting from strict command to a strangely gentle tone. "Don't get too worked up. I was just asking."
Her confidence had an effortless warmth, the kind that came naturally to someone who had survived more battles than most could imagine.
Elias exhaled shakily… but then something caught his eye.
His gaze dropped to her stomach.
A thin trail of blood was still sliding from the gash under her armor—fresh, warm, and nothing like a battlefield wound should look.
"S-sister… y-you're bleeding…" Elias whispered, innocent worry trembling in his voice.
The warrior woman quickly glanced down, startled, and pressed her palm over the wound as if she didn't want it seen.
"Haha… it's nothing," she said, forcing a light laugh. "Just a normal cut. It'll heal in a few days. Pain is like bitter medicine—it only makes the body stronger."
Her words were brave, but Elias still saw how her fingers pressed into the wound just a little too tightly.
"Sister…" he said softly, trying to smile despite his shaking voice,
"I… I heard that drinking warm milk with turmeric helps wounds heal faster…"
For a second, the woman blinked in mild surprise.
Then a small, genuine smile formed on her lips.
"Thank you, little boy," she said warmly. "You know more than your age."
They shared a brief, human moment.
But then—
A second set of footsteps approached.
Heavy. Controlled. Sharp.
Neither of them had noticed.
"What," a cold, authoritative voice cut through the hall, "is happening here?"
Both of them stiffened and spun around.
Mother Agnes stood behind them—tall, disciplined, and carved from pure command. Her presence made even the torches seem to burn quieter.
The warrior woman straightened instantly.
"Mother Agnes! Greetings."
Elias scrambled to bow properly.
"G-greetings… Mother…"
Mother Agnes' eyes were like drawn blades.
"This area is restricted. What are the two of you doing here?"
She directed the question sharply toward the warrior woman, as if she expected better.
"Even you… Alessia," she continued, voice firm, "should know the rules."
Only then did Elias learn the woman's name.
He also saw it—
A flicker of tension. A shadow of guilt tightening her jaw.
The warrior woman opened her mouth, hesitant.
"Ah… actually, Mother… I… I was—"
But Elias stepped forward suddenly, panic in his voice.
"Sorry, Mother Agnes!"
He nearly cried from desperation.
"It was all my fault! I got lost… it's my first day, and I keep taking wrong turns. Sister— she only stopped me from going the wrong way. That's why we're here!"
A small, brief smile touched the warrior woman's lips—gratitude disguised behind warrior pride.
Mother Agnes looked between them.
"Hm."
"What kind of 'lost'?"
He replied -
"Trying to find the gathering hall… to meet Sister Elizabeth at noon… b-but I couldn't…"
Alessia smirk deepened.
"Elizabeth? That explains everything."
She tilted her head.
"Noon, you said?"
"Y-yes, sister…"
She laughed short and sharp.
"It's already noon. You're late."
She stepped aside, crossing her arms.
"And if Elizabeth is waiting—you're dead."
Elias's heart slammed.
He forgot everything.
His feet took flight, sprinting down the grim corridor.
"I—I'm sorry, sister! I have to go!"
***
He ran like a wild thing, lungs burning, legs shaking beneath the weight in his pocket—that precious, forbidden silk hiding a woman's most intimate secret.
But no fear or shame could match the terror of facing Elizabeth.
He reached the massive gathering hall doors, pushed them open—
SLAM.
The echoes ripped through the space.
Every soul turned.
Nineteen seekers.
And at the front—
Elizabeth.
Her gaze sliced through Elias like a blade forged in heaven's fire.
Cold.
Deep.
Unyielding.
No mercy.
Only the slight tightening of her fingers over the rosary at her waist—
Was enough to drain his very life.
He stepped in trembling—
And instantly regretted every moment.
Elizabeth's fury burned like hell itself—
For a fleeting moment, Elias knew—
His entire journey in Sancthorn might end here.
***