With a promise the Striga retreats

The demon hunches protectively over her severed arm. Red sap drips to the ground, marking her trail as she backs slowly away from you. “Don’t expect your victory to last,” the demoness says. “You’re still trapped here, surrounded by demons. One will have you, little sister. But don’t worry,” she promises with sickening sweetness. “I won’t tell. No. I won’t. You’re mine, little sister. And I’ll have your shapely body bearing my fruit before this is done. That, I promise.” She smiles, and a red light seeps from between her green lips like a gash of blood. She vanishes from the door, the click of her footsteps swiftly fading away.

Almost at once you collapse to your knees, overwhelmed by relief, weakness, and the agony of your unquenched arousal. You try and steady your breath, feeling the thick perfume suffocating you, but less now, you notice, without the striga commanding it. You mentally shake yourself and crawl through the dirt and recumbent vines back to Brigette. The brunette still sleeps, blissfully ignorant of how close she had come to being sustenance for the demon’s plant.

“Oh sister,” you murmur, brushing her hair away. As your eyes travel down her form you again see the vine impaling her cunt. Disgust fills you even as you feel the yearning to be likewise filled. But it is only your body, not your mind which feels those urges you remind yourself. You grab hold of the rubbery tentacle and pull it free. It comes out reluctantly, clinging to Brigette’s warm depths, but finally the bulb bursts from her lower lips, soaked in girlcum and a wretched looking sap. You shudder at the sight, and wonder if you could have removed the thing had it remained much longer.

There is a moan at your side. “Brigette!” You hurry down her body and lift her head onto your lap.

You hold your breath as your sister’s eyes flutter open like she was waking from a pleasant dream. “What…” Her pretty face tilts and looks into your face. “Who is…”

“It’s me. Sabine.”

“Sabine? What is…I don’t…” She looks down at her body, confused. “Why am I naked?”

“Brigette,” you fairly sob in relief to hear her as herself. You pull her against you, hugging her close. You recover from thsi weakness quickly and pull back, at once business. “Brigette, listen to me. Do you remember anything?”

“Remember? I remember…” Her brow crinkles in thought. “I was…getting some tools. Then…there… Wait. There was someone at the door. They spoke to me. There was something in the air. It smelled…wonderful.” Brigette breathed deeply. You watch, transfixed as her immense breasts rise and fall. She smiles at the memory. “Like flowers, but…spicy? Then I…It was warm. And…Wonderful…” She trails off with a sigh

You shiver, uncertain how to tell her. You glance back towards the door in sudden worry. “Brigette, listen to me. The abbey is under attack.”

Her lips purse as she grapples with this. “A…ttack?”

“Yes! Listen. Demons are on the grounds and have taken the building. We have to go to the great abbey. I have the sword of the saint.” You lift the weapon, the holy blade catching the little light and shining as though aflame. “We have to escape. Can you walk?”

“Walk? I…Think so.”

Between the two of you leaning against the other you regain your feet, the operation made more difficult by the new weight Brigette has found on her chest. The former gardener looks down and frowns on seeing her tainted, naked body. She touches a too firm breast and starts when a thick liquid dribbles from her teat. “What happened to me?”

You hesitate, but resign yourself. “A demon found you,” you say reluctantly. “It…I’m not sure what it did.” You glance back at the flower looming over you both. Brigette follows your gaze. Recognition sparks in her eye. “Is used that…thing. It…” You blush. “Anyway, it used that plant to attack us. After I chased her off it stopped. But by the time I had gotten here, you…”

Brigette stares at you, wide eyed. You grit your teeth. Tears of anger, of outrage prick your eyes at the thought of what is happening to your home, to your sisters. You turn your glare upon the plant, as if it were the root cause of every harm befalling your precious home. You lift the holy blade and advance on the sickening flower. Brigette suddenly grabs your arm. You look back.

“What’s wrong?”

Brigette stares at the looming petals, watching the red veins pulsing slowly about the pollen core. “We don’t have time,” she says. She looks back to you. “If you attack it, it might come after us. And we’re in no shape to fight. You said we have to go. Come on.”

You realize she is right, of course. Still, you give the flower a last hateful glance and pull Brigette protectively against you, her enormous breasts pressing against your skin. The two of you stagger to the door. You glance down the corridor in either direction, but see nothing. However, what you hear is not a sound of combat, but only the faint screams, moans and howls of carnal delight. Renewed urgency grips you. You leave the chamber and move down the hall. Just before you depart, you glance back at the flower within, lurking, crouched in the dark, as if waiting for you to be gone so it can catch another unwary. Then it is gone, and you both are struggling down the corridor towards the stable doors.

Away from the heady perfume of the black lotuses, your head begins to clear, but you still feel weak. Brigette, by contrast, seems to grow stronger with every step. Soon, it is your sister, seemingly utterly at ease in her nudity, who is helping you down the hall rather than the other way around. Her eyes have grown clearer, her step more assured. As you lean against her, you can’t help but marvel at her as you both flash down the dark halls.

You turn towards the path leading to the doors, only to be stopped by Brigette. “The garden,” your sister says. “It reaches all the way around the abbey. There’s a side door that leads into the forest. We can escape that way.”

You stop at that, suddenly hopeful. “The garden?” you say. “Is there a way through it that leads to the stables?”

Brigette at once grasps your idea. “Yes. Yes, it does,” she says. “It’s how I get the fertilizer to the orchards.” She pauses then. “But, will the horses still even be there? What if the demons killed them? Or have taken over the barn?”

You hadn’t thought of that. Doubts creep into you, and you bite your lip. You have escaped corruption twice already, both times by sheer good fortune, and you wonder how much more the goddess will be willing to protect you? fallen as you are. You look down to the sword in your grasp. Shame fills you at these doubts, but you can no longer feel the goddess’s warmth within you. How would you know? Gerlangen is far, and a horse would make the journey far easier, but is a delay better than no chance at all?

You look into Brigette’s eyes and feel a strange sort of kinship with the former gardener, one more deeply than even with your other sisters before this debacle. You cannot help but think it is because the both of you have been tainted, a mutual tragedy. You draw courage from this kinship and shake your head.

“We’ll decide once we get there,” you say. “Let’s go.”

Brigette nods and takes your hand in hers. You smile despite the situation and follow the shapely sister out the door and into the daylight.