Just A Typical Morning Prayer

After Violette had gotten the washing basin, chaperon duty was handed off to Lana who moppingly came with me down to the nearby river for a proper wash before the morning prayers.

Lana dejectedly took a seat on a rock overlooking my bathing spot alongside my clothes and sword pouting as she kept vigil for any of our crew that had more lust than brains. No matter how much womanly authority Violette had, it was impossible to completely stop the horniness of women.

Huffing and puffing she eventually let out a sound of frustration and laid back on the rock.

“So who won this time?” She boredly asked with a sigh, kicking her feet.

Wincing as I splash myself with the cold water sending a shiver through my body as I cleaned myself with the soap my sisters had gotten for me. I shook my head at her behavior as I rinsed my hair.

What was it with women and only thinking with their cunts?

Snorting as I answered. “I did of course, Violette got to **** just like you always do. Neither of you have ever won.”

“Ahhh! I still wanna fuck Gilles! Can’t we?” Lana begged.

I sighed at my little sister’s words. “Lana, I need to be clean for the morning mass. I can’t show up to it with a dirty dick or be late because I had to wash up again.” I gruffly scolded, none too interested in staying in the balls shriveling cold water for longer than needed be.

“Urgh! What bullshit!” She whined, throwing her arms up.

Rolling my eyes as I hurried out of the river both clean, and purified for mass. Wringing the water from my hair I patted Lana’s stomach with icy cold and wet hands making her leap and yelped as she sat up.

“Duchesses tits that cold!” Lana yowled like a frightened cat.

“Keep dreaming, you’re not Violette. She, however, could get away with it.” I teased with a grin to get dry and dress.

Glaring at me Lana cupped her boobs pouting. “Of course she could.” Lana grumbled at Violette’s feminine right.

Rolling my eyes at my little sister's wet legged bitch behavior, I subconsciously reached out for my sword only to find it missing, my head snapped to the side to see Lana had hooked it onto her lower armor making me grimace.

Adjusting her bikini as the weight of my blade dragging one side down my little sister took pleasure in my look, then as my eyes drifted back to my sword at her hip. Lana ran her fingers along the waistband of her bikini to the front to play with her armor. “Ah, ah~ You know the rules, only women can bear a weapon to mass bro. And if you’re not going to bend the rules, then I’m not.” Lana brattily rebuked my longing gaze.

She had an impish smile as she continued. “Buuuut I could accidentally forget to carry it if someone needed some sisterly duties before attending mass.” She sweetly offered.

I sighed frustrated with Lana’s irreverence to the Duchess just to get some sex. When the perfect idea came to me, stepping forward while getting my hands nice and wet as I wrung whatever water I could from my hair I readied the trick. Lana’s grin widened right before it disappeared in the realization of her mistake.

“Oooh, no, nope, noooo!” She cried out as she turned and bolted.

I was in hot pursuit on her tail. “Oh come here you little brat!” I shouted cackling as I swiped at Lana with my freezing hands, trying to get a handful of her perfect ass to punish her in a dash back towards camp.

Entering it’s boundaries past the guards coming off their watches to make their way to mass, Lana made the mistake of thinking it was over as she came to a stop.

A mistake she paid for as I got my hands around either side of the strip of her armored bikini letting my fingers dig into that voluminous firm booty that had that softness that made it a pleasure to grope. Lana hissed at the freezing touch going ramrod stiff as she

“Gilles!” She hissed through chattering teeth as she leaped from my grasp covering her backside with her hands, her cheeks rosy pink with embarrassment from her unfeminine treatment as women around us giggled as we joined the forming gathering for mass.

At the gathering all the women of the camp had gathered a good several dozen sat as Violette stood topless displaying her feminine authority at the head of the congregation with Silvia a short statured, pious nun who’d cast aside our hometowns church for throwing in behind the usurper of Violette’s rightful place as mayor for its discarding Monza’s holy mandate. At their feet was a large padded mat for the most important piece of the prayer.

Silvia's long blonde hair cascaded down her back like a cloak of gold thread down her modest habit. It’s scared boob-window covered with two sheer veils that swayed in the light breeze calling to attention her heavy blessed chest was second only to Violette behind the thin gauzy cloth, a modification our town's clergy found vital.

The habit’s skirt came to a conservative mini-skirt length with a shortened front hem so it came short of covering Silvia's womanhood, letting all observe the patch of cloth of her ceremonial purple g-string.

Lana broke off and knelt with the other women that lacked any great feminine authority in the back of the congregation as I took my place in the men's section… as the only man. Not that I’d be kneeling for long.

Silvia raised her hands in the morning rays giving her an angelic visage beginning mass.

“Sisters and sons of the Duchess Monza, a new day has dawned and we daughters must renew our vows to Monza demanded we make to our brothers, sons and husbands. Our most endowed, please join me and our blessed matron of the community for our renewal of our vows.”

Standing I solemnly approached them, Silvia's lack of height starkly noticeable as the top of her head barely reached my shoulders even as all three of us kneeled on the soft mat it was pronounced. Thrusting her chest out for me to grab, Silvia started the prayer.

“Oh weary son and brother, we beg forgiveness for our cowardice, accept our embrace, rest your head on the motherly endowment of our lady Monza and our congregation's matron.” Silvia reverently entoned spreading her arms in beckoning welcome, Violette waiting her turn.

I caressed her breast, it was softer than Violette’s as my finger sank in deeper as I brought them underneath them respectfully cupping them. I had to bend down as I brushed the covers over her shoulders to suckle on her nipples.

Nibbling lightly on her stiff nipple in my mouth and kneading her other breast it was impossible for me not to get turned on even though this wasn’t supposed to be sexual. Made more of a struggle as Silvia wrapped her arms around me pulling me into her bosom in a motherly embrace.

“Ah! O-oh sisters let us remember the reminder of the missssion! Duchess Monza left us. O-our most endowed, join our matron for our covenant we owe.” Silvia breath hitched from my ministrations as she struggled through her verse.

“We do.” The congregation answered.

Pulling away from her Silvia’s cheeks were flushed with arousal, taking her cue Violette laid down on the mat for our renewal of Monza’s vow our town upheld as I crawled atop of her taking my position, looking in my sister's eyes they were full of feminine protective instinct.

A side glance to the crowd showed their protective instinct as women stirred, it felt like the suffocation that made them learn the blade in the first place. Violette went further as she locked her around me hauling me by the hips against her mound pressing the bulge of my half-chub on her sex.

She and I eyed each other in a silent argument over my role, Violette challenging me to be passive as a man should. Something I wasn’t going to have in the moments while we waited for Silvia's signal.

“Beloved Son and Matron, as I retell the story of the vow, let the beloved son suckle from your gift of the Duchess to renew our promise.”

I went on the attack, lurching down assaulting Violette’s breasts with my tongue and hands making her bosom heave from the motion, sending my older sister’ soft moaning to frame Silvia’s retelling of the inheritance Monza left us with.

"Long ago during the age of cowardice, the holy Duchess raised her banner of conquest it was for more than mere land and treasure, she raised her banner to remove the burden of war men that they had tragically come to carry from the cowardliness of their wives who would rather send their gentle husbands and sons to war in that atrocious age.” Silvia gave the sermon a sorrowful weight, I could tell it struck a cord as it did every time in Violette as she held me tight in a wordless promise and her heartbeat I felt through my lips on her breasts quickened.

“We bear this sin’s burden heavily to this day, beloved sons render our punishment we shall take as women for our failure in the age of cowardice.”

As according to scripture I open handed slapped Violette’s tit I wasn’t suckling from, sending her fat breast jiggling and forcing an exaggerated yelp from her as I slapped it several more times the sound echoed over the congregation administering the ‘punishment’ and reminder for all women present to never slink back to such cowardice.

“Forgive our weakness.” Silvia sorrowfully pleaded to the duchess, hands clasped together.

Violette writhed under my pleasurable ****, taking me by the back of my head gasping as we performed in front of our whole bandit gang. As her womanly pride demanded she was going to try to give as good as she got back as she rocked her mound on the tent of my strained pants chafing my dick against the fabric in rough rubbing pleasure.

“Monza rose as a warlord among many, but with her magnificently large bosom that was unquestionable proof she was the pinnacle of womanhood. Her feminine authority shone as a beacon of courage lighting within the women who answered her call to war as they should have; finding within them their femininity to protect their husbands and home as always should have.”

Violette brazenly abused her authority and privileges, she loosened my pants and worked them down, they caught on the broad head of my prick staining them with my pre-cum, before it came free exposing my cock to the cool morning air. The collective sharp inhaled breaths of our bandit gang was audible, and from the corner of my eye I could see Silvia suppress a scowl at Violette's brazen actions, but even as a nun she could do nothing to chide a woman of superior authority to her own. All she could do was continue her sermon although her congratulation's eyes were locked onto my throbbing cock with zealous fervor.

"The great duchess waged unending war against the cowards, among them Monza brought justice to both the degenerate kingdoms of Amara and the even more barbaric kingdom of Sadler. Sallying forth into the sands, Mona subjugated the foolish Queen, and relieved the misled King of their crowns for continuing injustice practices of placing men in danger. The Amara Queen reformed when faced with Monza's superior feminine authority and recognized the truth of Monza's ways. This crusade still burns in our breasts, never forget sisters!” Silvia brought her hands to her breasts lifting them, displaying their ponderous masses to the congregation.

Staring at my older sister sultry matronly expression, she comfortingly ran her hand through my hair like I was a child. This was nothing but a continuation of this morning, and I refused to back down. I would not be cowed from fighting like the meeker men back home. I dived in, my cock thrusting forward as I pulled aside her taut soaked bottoms, penetrating my sister’s slick sex in a rough motion that ended in the sharp clap of my heavy balls slapping against her ass as I hilted. I had no compunction about ramming myself home into Violette's quim, my body surged with heat as Monza's decrees mandated no shame in the embrace of filial intercourse, it was duty for the women in a family to take care of a male relations lusts whenever and wherever they arose. There was nothing inherently crass or inappropriate for a son to take his mother or sisters in the marketplace or in the street in their hometown.

Though it was almost mythical, as morning relief meant men almost never had to be relieved outside the walls of their homes. But, then I wasn't like other men.

Violette threw her head back and her eyes screwed shut in pleasure as she keened in ecstasy. Her massive breasts violently bounced from the fury of my ****, Silvia having to raise her voice to speak clearly over the commotion of sex, that the blushing congregation fixated upon. Our gang's nun was impotent to rebuke a woman of superior feminine authority in going further than the prayer entailed, so she worked with and improvised from our staying from ritual, a not unknown occurrence.

"See our matron! Giving her body in convent and piousness to quell the dangerous urges of man, as family she dedicates her breasts and womanhood to assuage the guilt we bare, for by accepting and tending to our male-kin lusts we remind ourselves of our vow to never forget the lessons Monza taught us, and forever treasure them as they should!" Silvia preached with fervor to the crowd that cheered, echoing her.

My sister looked at me with defiance, demanding that I quit my ambitions, so I hammered into her, striking into her molten hot core, her constricting silky inner-walls had no ability to stop my passage. Her defiance turned brittle as continued rutting taking her like a beast, brittleness turned fragmented when her arms wrapped around me while I pounded her into the padded mat. Our bodies pressed together intimately as we fucked, my sister's massive breasts pancaked on my chest between our bodies that chafed building a searing heat that made us drip with sweat, chasing the cold morning air away from our forms.

"Gilles, Gilles, Gilles!" Violette moaned wantonly into my ear she admitted defeat, unable to quell my urges and surrendering to the pleasure. Her lusts as a woman overcoming her sisterly desire to protect her brother.

I grunted, and groaned fighting the urge to cum as I unrelentingly pistioned my hips, plunging into the molten hot passage of my older sister's sopping sex that tempted me to fill it, to pour my seed into her. But, I had to hold out, not until Silvia ended the sermon! I didn't know how long I pounded my sister, time was immaterial when my body was wracked my mind clouding pleasure.

"Oh beloved son renew our covenant and vows to the duchess!" Silvia words announcing my finish cut through the fog of my mind.

Growling I pulled myself free of my sister's weak hold and out of her womanhood, my cock that sprung free was caught by Silvia's delicate hands that double-fisted pumped my shaft, still slick and shining in the morning sun's light with Violette's arousal. Letting out a deep groan at the shock of the stimulating soft hands of Silvia I erupted, long heavy ropes sprayed from my tip painting white stripes from Violette's mound to her breasts. When the last spurt of seed left me and splashed onto my sisters insensate form, Violette was a mess of sweat and cum as she lay placid with her arm over her eyes as she recovered from her loss.

"Amen daughters and sons of Monza, our vows are renewed." Silvia concluded the sermon.

Gazing to the side, the hardened women of our bandit gang looked more like a bunch of horny teenage girls red faced from seeing their first cock at a harvest festival, the wetness between many of their legs was easily seen as most hurried off to no doubt attend to themselves in the privacy of the woods surrounding the camp.

Silvia touched my shoulder gently gaining my attention, eyes averted and a sweet smile on her lips, she offered a cloth to conceal my exposed manhood with a dusting a of pink on her cheeks. "Gilles, the exertion of mass thanks to our matron has let you dirtied. Let us retire to my tent so I can clean it off."

Taking the cloth I sighed as I wrapped it around my waist before following Silvia to her tent.

Sucking in a sharp breath at the touch of the warm towel that on my thick column of my softened prick, breath turned to groan as Silvia ran it along my shaft reverently. The petite nun height meant she was face level with my cock as she knelt between my legs with a bowl of hot water for the towel. For a spell there was just the sound of the towel on skin, and the sloshing of water whenever she dunked the towel into the water.

The sensation of water and the tender caress of Silvia's hand through the cloth unavoidably lead to me sporting a half chub as the cleaning went on, my bulbous fat fist sized up drooped towards the ground as it couldn't support its own weight. It also meant that my drooling cockhead hung right over Silvia's cleavage as the partly swollen shaft dangled next to her face as she performed her duty.

Toweling my balls Silvia took a deep breath as she massaged the heavy orbs of my balls. "Gilles, it would do you well to simply rest in the camp with Monza blessing. Leave the women's work to women, a blade is ill suited for the hands of a man as the duchess decreed."

My head lolled and a grumble emanated from the back of my throat another familiar argument began, I launched into a familiar tirade that came from the bottom of my heart. "You know that I'd go mad with restlessness if I sat around on my ass, being a man of hearth doesn't suit me. I want to be out there, fighting, wrestling and take it with my own two hands!" My animated protest and sudden shift forward unintentionally cockslapped the nun across the face, even as slow as it was the mass of the log of flesh still claimed a crisp slap as it struck.

"Oh, shit sorry sister Silvia!" I quickly apologized to the nun, though my remorse vanished when I caught the dreamy grin Silvia couldn't wipe from her face as she touched her cheek to retort. Why can't women get sex off their minds!?

"Still, both of your sisters minds would be at peace if gave up those whims. A mans place is at the home working the fields or hammering iron at the forge, and a woman's to stand between him and danger with the blade he's made for her." Silvia quoted scripture to me.

It was unsatisfying, grating and sat wrong. "I'm not giving it up." I stated with finality.

Bowing her head Silvia returned to the task of cleaning my cock, and an awkward silence hung in the air. I wouldn't budge on this ground, I dreamed of climbing the ladder of fame, to meet and fight along legends like Risty, being some minor bandit gangleader's younger brother felt... galling was the best word I could muster. To be a minor character to someone else rankled me, I'd rather be a bandit king or someone truly famous on my own merits than being so in relation to someone else.

I'm going on that damn patrol, and curse my sisters if they once again gave me that route near that deep gully, that route is the worst.