Friends, not Fiends

“There’s no time! Conceal your armor in a safe place.”

Target > 40, 1d100 roll=93, successful suggestion (+1 corruption)

Selphie Quimbane Corruption Points: 1

Selphie realizes she doesn’t have time to don her armor. If there are fiends in the trees, she must deal with them first. There is a hillock with an overhang in the meadow where she camped. She wraps her golden breastplate in her sleeping bag and conceals it in the shadow of the overhang.

She hefts her holy longsword ahead of herself and starts walking stealthily towards the woods. Her sheer white nightshirt clings to her curves, hugging her breasts and her hips. Her nipples are dark through the draping, sheer fabric. She is focused on the shadows she saw in the trees when she hears the same snickering behind her.

Selphie whips around, breasts jiggling, and sees her armor hover in the air. The snickering gets louder. It’s as though tiny invisible fiends are carrying her armor. It slowly starts moving away from her towards the brook in the meadow.

Selphie charges after her armor. “Unhand my goods, vile fiends.”

Three winged quasits materialize. They look like little demonic imps with enormous cocks and they cackle with mocking glee as they drop her breastplate in the rushing water of the brook. “Hiss! Finders keepers, paladins weepers.”

“Don't assume that everything is hostile or need to be killed. Even demons can be redeemed.”

Target > 40, 1d100 roll+1=60, successful suggestion (+1 corruption, +1 virtue)

Selphie Quimbane Corruption 2, Virtue 1

Selphie lowers her longsword and reaches out her hand. A demon’s heart has only known chaos and evil, but she could show them order and goodness. Her virtue is stronger than any corruption. Besides, these quasits look like she could crush them by sitting on their faces. “Hi, strangers! I am Selphie Quimbane, Paladin of Helm. Will you be my friends?”

The quasits giggle and chitter, and then they fly towards her and shake a finger each on her outstretched hand. “Friends, dummy! Big tits slutty dummy!”

They seem bigger up close. Certainly their cocks seem big as they flit around Selphie’s hands. She turns to tell them about her holy mission. They quieten down behind her, as though her speech is reaching them. They make strange thinking moans. When, she turns back, she is shocked to see that they are all jerking their big dicks into her golden paladin helm. They jizz and fill her armored helmet with their demonic cum, and then they lapse into the same loud cackling as always.

“Fiends, not friends!” she roars and hefts her longsword again. With a swing she dispatches one quasit back to the Abyss, and then another. The last one gets behind her and flies up her nightshirt to bite her on her bare ass. There’s nothing to it. She falls back on her ass, sitting on the last quasit’s face so that it cannot do naught but breathe the scent of her sensuous flesh. She can feel its cock move, but then it too disappears, slain by her lovely ass and reincarnated back on its native plane of the Abyss.

Selphie looks in disgust at the demon cum now filling her helm. Today might be a day to adventure without her armor. Her holy virtue is the only armor she needs, blessed by the light of Helm.

There is still movement in the trees. She hears whinnying and a strange guttural tongue. Could it be an orc corralling a unicorn?

Comment a suggestion from the voice for Selphie.