Chapter 1

I knelt next to the corpse that used to be my master on the hill overlooking the burned wheat field. I stared calmly at the four women that surrounded me. They were my master's enemies. They had killed his mortal vessel. But I knew he was not dead. I knew the lengths my master had gone through to insure his continued existence beyond his vessel's termination.

The scent of death lingered in the air, mixed with ash and fire. Swaths of the wheat field had burned during the fight with my master. A pile of corpses, my master's servants, fouled the field next to the smoking patches.

I did not look at my Master's corpse. It was hard to keep my gaze away. Curiosity itched at me to stare at it. His blood stained my hands and body. The elf had feathered him with two arrows, catching him completely unaware. His attention had been focused on the knight, the acolyte, and the mage dueling his corpse automaton.

"Who is this Fireeyes?" the knight asked. Fiery hair spilled over the shining pauldrons of her armor. Her large breasts filled out her half-breastplate, an impressive cleavage. Her shapely legs were covered by thigh-high leather boots and steel greaves, and a chainmail loincloth dangled from her sword belt.

"A foul mage," the journeyman mage answered. She was Thosian, like most mages, with pale skin and short, dark brown hair. A silver nose ring glinted in the sunlight. She wore the red robes of a journeyman mage, but she was skilled. She had disrupted master's automaton. "He delved into dark magics and performed experiments on humans, sometimes while they still lived."

Master was a great mage. He delved into the secrets that his brethren were too weak and cowardly to explore. Master had discovered the secrets of life itself, preserving his soul in a phylactery that I had hidden in my pussy along with the tracking amulet.

The amulet's mate dangled between the knights breasts.

"He sounds horrible," the acolyte gasped. She was slim, dressed in the white robes of a priestess of Saphique, goddess of virgins and lesbians. The knight was on her Quest to fully join the ranks of the Knights Deute, and the acolyte was her companion, sent to aide the knight in her duty. "What a monster."

My Master was a great man. If I was capable of emotions, I imagine I would feel indignation at her tone, maybe even anger. I was glad I had no emotions. Simulacrum did not need them.

"He is terrible," the mage spat. "A monster. The Magery council has signed a warrant for his death. If he was discovered in the Magery, he would have been executed for his crimes. He had spent the last twenty years in exile, staying beyond the legal reach of the council. He was a warlock."

The mage grimaced as she said warlock.

"Why would he want to kill me?" Angela asked. "That doesn't make in sense."

"Ask the woman," the elf suggested. She was in heat, her cock dangling from where her clit should be. She stood naked, after her race's fashion. My master always wanted to experiment on elves. Perhaps he would have his chance with her after I found him a new body.

"She can't tell us anything," the mage dismissed. "She's a simulacrum."

"So?" Angela asked. "She was with him. She must know something. Why did your master want to kill us?"

"I do not understand the question," I answered.

"Yes, you do," the knight growled, her face twisting. She seized my shoulders and shook me. I held my gaze steady upon her. I had my instructions.

"Tell us why your master wanted to kill us?"

"I do not understand the question," I repeated, mimicking the response of a normal simulacrum.

"She doesn't have a master anymore," the mage groaned. "Simulacrum, why did your previous master try to kill us?"

"I do not know," I answered, following my Master's instructions.

"She's lying."

"She can't," the mage said. "She has to obey her master's command until she is released. He is dead. She was released. Now she serves the Magery Council and will answer to any mage."

"That is correct, journeyman mage," I answered.

The knight's face twisted. "What? That doesn't make sense. Surely he told you something. Tell us." "I do not understand your request."

"Simulacrum are created with a limited intelligence," the mage explained. "She may look like a person, but she has no soul and barely any mind. She was created with magic. She was just his power source. He would collect her pussy juices to fuel his magic."

"Which are copious," the elf said, her cock hardening. "I can smell her excitement."

"Simulacrum are always excited," the mage continued. "Males can produce copious amount of cum, and females prodigious amounts of pussy juices. That's all they are for. Master mages are awarded one. She has been serving him for decades, but he would never tell her anything. Or, worse, he might have commanded her to forget all his activities when he died."

"That sounds horrible," the acolyte gasped. She knelt down and hugged me. "You don't deserve that fate."

"I do not understand what you mean," I responded, an honest statement. What did she mean by deserve? I was a simulacrum. I served my master and deserved whatever he chose for me. That was my purpose.

"She is a simulacrum, Sophia," the mage said, pulling Sophia from me. "Do not think of her as a person. She is merely a tool."

"A tool that can talk."

"There are birds that can talk," the mage countered. "That doesn't make them intelligent or people. She merely parrots her instructions. She is not a person."

The acolyte shook her head.

"So there is nothing we can get from her?" sighed the knight as she studied me.

"Simulacrum, what can you tell me of your previous master's plans?" the mage asked.

"I know nothing of his plans or intentions," I replied. "I am sorry I could not be more helpful."

"What do we do with her?" the elf asked. Her hand stroked my smooth head. "Has she been mistreated? She has no hair. Did her master shave her bald?"

"Simulacrum do not grow hair," the mage dismissed. "It is simple. Simulacrum."

"Yes, journeyman mage."

"Do you see the highway." The mage pointed to the road the group had been traveling on when my master attacked them.

"I do, journeyman mage."

"You will head in this direction down the highway," she pointed south, "until you reach the city of Esh-Esh. Present yourself to the Collegiate Tower and inform them that your master Fireeyes is dead and that you are ready to serve the Magery Council."

"Yes, journeyman mage." I stood up, my pussy clenching around the pair of amulets trapped in my depths. I ignored the discomfort. I turned and walked towards the road.

"You're just letting her go?" the knight demanded.

"We can get nothing from her," the mage answered. "She is property of the Magery Council now that Fireeyes is dead. She will return herself."

"But ... what if someone attacks her," the acolyte asked as I made my way down the slope.

"No Thosian would attack a simulacrum. Especially not this close to Esh-Esh. She will be fine."

Their voices dwindled as I walked down the hill and into the wheat field. The fuzzy ends of the stalks tickled at my naked breasts as I marched through the fields. I passed the pile of corpses that had once been the crew of the Mermaid's Lover, a merchant ship. I had to climb over a fence to reach the highway.

Like an obedient simulacrum, I turned south and walked down the road. I did not look back. After two miles, I pulled the amulets out of my pussy. I draped them around my neck and kept walking. The knight and her party had not followed.

I began my search for my master's new vessel.

Journeyman Mage Faoril

I stared down at the corpse of Fireeyes. He was Thlinian, his reddish skin growing pale with death. The monstrous warlock that had killed seven journeymen and two master mages when they came to arrest him for his crimes had been killed by two arrows from an elf's bow.

"He was too fixated on the battle," Xera said as she jerked her arrows from his corpse. She examined the tips and let out a disgusted sigh. "Hit the bone and broke the arrowhead." She threw the broken arrow down and slipped the other back into her quiver.

"He was feared," I told her. "A monster. They used to scare apprentices with stories of him. He doesn't seem so terrifying lying dead on the ground." I bent down. He was not the first corpse I had seen. Cadavers, all of whom died of natural causes, were used to teach anatomy at the Collegiate Tower. His face was pale and his eyes no longer glowed red.

They were brown, the pupils wide.

"Why would he want to kill me?" Angela growled again. "It doesn't make any sense. I've never heard of this monster."

"Search his belongings," Xera said. "We might find answers."

"I ... I can't do this," Sophia groaned, her face pale. "I'm just going to go sit over there."

Angela put a comforting hand on the acolyte's shoulder. The pair were close. Sophia seemed very much taken with Angela, but the knight was more reserved. A smile crossed Sophia's lips at Angela's touch. Then Sophia walked away and sat down at the hill's edge, her back to the scene.

Xera ran her hands over Fireeyes's black robes. She pulled small artifacts out of her pocket: crystals, chalks, inks, and quills. There was nothing unusual about that. Angela opened up a pack, spilling out changes of clothing, trail rations, a journal, and a bowl.

I grabbed the journal, opening it up.

"I hope there's something useful in there," Angela groaned. "Only other thing in here was this bowl." She peered inside. "There are markings in the bowl."

"It's a communication bowl," I answered without looking up. "It probably is linked to his employer."

"So we can use it to figure out who hired him."

I took the bowl and stared down at the runes. "No. It is a simple device. It would only be capable of sending a limited message. Blood is the trigger. It would cause a reaction in the corresponding bowl."

"My blood?" Angela asked.

"Most likely."

Angela grimaced and threw it aside. "That's foul."

"He was a foul man," I said, staring at the journal. It was hundreds of pages, written in a tight, cramped handwriting detailing his research. I flipped to the back, hoping the newest entries would be more illuminating.

Experiment on the principals of domination and the binding of necrotic flesh. I grimaced as I read the passage. It detailed his plans to turn the crew of a river boat into his mind slaves while simultaneously preparing their corpses to be gathered into an automaton. His magic circles were drawn out, and he had even selected which crew would be given which ones based on the qualities he identified with them.

"Anything useful?" Angela asked.

"Only if you wanted to make another monstrosity like the one we fought," I answered. I flipped back a page. It detailed the vivisection of a pregnant woman and his experiments upon her fetus. The dates, weeks older than the corpse abomination. I worked back. "Nothing on who hired him or why he wanted to kill you. Only his foul experiments."

"You should burn that book," Sophia said.

I blinked. Destroy knowledge? "No. He is dead. He can't make use of it any longer, but there may be knowledge to glean from these pages."

"From a man that created a corpse monster?" Angela demanded. "Pater's cock."

I slipped the journal into my pocket. "Maybe good can be created from his evil."

"But, people died from his research," gasped Sophia.

"And there is no point letting their deaths be in vain," I countered.

Sophia stood up and turned around, her eyes wide. "But ... but..."

"I know," I told her. "It is disgusting what he wrote."

"Pater's cock," Angela swore again. "So we have no idea if he even was hired? We have no clue why he tried to kill us? Me?"

"Life is always full of questions that cannot be answered," Xera said. "What point is there dwelling on them?"

"What if we have other enemies to worry about?" Angela demanded. "It's bad enough I'm on this nearly impossible quest to slay the dragon Dominari, but now I have to add this on top of it?"

Sophia suddenly embraced Angela. "We're here for you. We'll find all the pieces of the High King's sword, reforge it, and support you. We killed Fireeyes. We will defeat any opponents we come across."

"Sophia," Angela whispered in shock. "I..."

Sophia kissed Angela, her arms tight about the knight's neck. Angela had a growing smile on her lips and her blue eyes brimmed with tears. "Thank you. I can't believe I used to think you were a liability on this trip."

"I was at the start," Sophia nodded. She broke the embrace. "We should keep going. We have a long journey ahead."

I looked to the north. We were heading into the barbaric lands of the orcs. The first piece of High King Peter's famed sword, forged by the God Krab himself, was at the ruins of Murathi at the tip of the Larg Peninsula. It would be dangerous to cross the tundra. Orcs did not like outsiders.

I took a deep breath. I would help Angela reforge the sword. I would cast one of the most complicated spells to fix it and regain my reputation after my failure taking the exam to be a master mage.

"Let's go," I nodded. Then I groaned—I would have to ride that demonic horse again.

Xerathalasia

My cock swung between my thighs as I walked down the highway. Sophia, Angela, and Faoril rode their horses. Faoril still looked miserable on her second day riding a horse. It had taken an hour to round up the mounts after the fight. Horses, it turned out, did not like necromantic magic.

But now they were happy to be carrying their riders and walking down the road in their herd.

I didn't ride a horse. I could walk as fast. Humans were so slow.

My cock itched. It was my last day in heat. Tomorrow, my cock would be gone. The tip ached as we neared the village of Etian. The sun sank low. My cock wanted to fuck. She wanted to impregnate anyone she could.

Luckily, I was in human lands. I couldn't impregnate any duel-sexed race. Back home, the only pussy I could fuck was my wife's Atharilesia. I missed her. She was pregnant with our first child. I would miss our daughter's birth, but Atharilesia was right, the quest was more important.

The oracle had spoken.

My sister would take care of my wife, keep her company and support her during the birth. Sometimes I wondered if I would ever see my wife and our daughter again. This quest was proving far more dangerous than I had thought.

But the Lesbius Oracle gave a prophecy. I was needed to help Angela. I couldn't turn my back on the words of a prophecy, no matter how much my heart begged me to return to the forest. A few days travel to the west, and I would be home again.

"Oh, I am so glad we can stop for the night," Faoril moaned as we entered the outskirts of the village. "Riding a horse is torture."

"You'll learn to get used to it," Sophia smiled.

"Just don't fall off your horse," Angela laughed.

"That only happened once." The acolyte put her hands on her hips as she glared at the knight. "And we were attacked by a dangerous monster. Purity was startled." Sophia stroked the neck of her white mare.

"She's just bad at riding a horse," Angela teased.

"Ooh, I'll get you for that."

Angela grinned at her. "I'd like to see you try. I'll just pin you down and have my way with you if you try."

"Promise?" gasped Sophia.

Ever since Sophia had been tied up by a dryad's tree, she had been into bondage. My dick throbbed harder, swelling up before me and bouncing with my steps. I glanced at Faoril as she shifted on her saddle, a grimace on her face.

I patted her thigh. "I'll massage you tonight."

The mage's brown eyes flicked down at my hard cock thrusting before me. A smile crossed her lips. "A massage sounds wonderful."

We stayed at the Farmer's Plow, the nicest inn in the entire village of Etian. It was built for the traveling merchants who streamed up and down the road between Allenoth and Esh-Esh. The innkeeper was honored to have Faoril stay at her inn.

"What a wonderful delight," she gushed, the stout woman clapping her hands together. "I cannot believe my luck."

Faoril nodded. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"Oh, I am just honored that you would patronize my humble establishment."

"We need a pair of rooms," Angela said, "stable for our mounts, and dinner."

"Yes, yes," the innkeeper nodded. "A pair of my best rooms. So just have a seat in the common room, and we'll have your dinner out to you. I have a pig roasting on the spit all day. He will be marvelous."

I grimaced. How could humans eat animal flesh?

"I would prefer a meal of raw vegetables," I told the innkeeper.

"Oh, my, an elf," she gasped, her eyes drinking in my pale, greenish skin. Her eyes widened when she saw my cock. "Holy Mother Slata, what a wonderful night. By all means, madam elf, I shall instruct the kitchen."

Thosian women, I had discovered, told salacious tales about elven cocks. If I wasn't spending the evening with Faoril, I would have my choice of women. All the serving maids and several of the patrons all found excuses to drift past my table and catch a glimpse of my cock.

They all blushed and giggled. Humans went around clothed, and the sight of a naked body always caused a stir. Elves were far more practical. We went naked, wearing only jewelry and belts to carry pouches, tools, or weapons.

I missed the forest.

"That was delicious," Faoril sighed, leaning back and licking her fingers clean of the juices from her pork roast.

Angela and Sophia nodded in agreement.

Faoril fixed me with a smile. "I'm ready for that massage."

My cock throbbed beneath the table. I popped the last radish into my mouth, chewing on the hard root and savoring its spicy, bitter flavor. The humans cooked their vegetables until they were rubbery and soft.

"Let's," I smiled. "When on the hunt, I would give my companions massages to relieve the strain in their muscles."

"Sounds wonderful," Faoril groaned as she stood up, her legs obviously sore beneath her red robes.

"Yes," I nodded.

"So, what did you hunt?" Faoril asked. "You do not eat meat."

"Monsters. They are attracted to the dark woods. When I met Angela, my hunt for a cockatrice had gone disastrously. The beast had gotten behind us. Luckily, Angela and Sophia arrived and assisted us."

"And that's why you're accompanying them?"

We reached the inn's stairs. "Partly. But there's also the prophecy."

Faoril nodded. "Yes, I am the grieving mage, apparently." She closed her eyes and a wave of sadness washed over her. "That's apt."

I put an arm around her shoulders. "Come on, my massage will make you feel so much better." We reached our room and slipped inside. It was warm and neat, the bed covered in clean, dark blankets, the pillows fluffed. There was no dust to be seen. A few of the inns we had stayed in had been just dreadful.

Faoril turned, her hands stroking down my stomach to grasp my hard cock. "Mmm, your cum was necessary. Without it, I couldn't have stopped that abomination."

"I'm glad my cum could help," I purred as she stroked my dick. Her other hand found my breast, giving it a squeeze. "But I'm supposed to be massaging you."

Faoril grinned, her short hair framing her face made her seem so cute and innocent instead of the cold, rational mage. She had been so calm during the battle and afterward. But now her walls were dropping as her excitement grew. Her spicy excitement scented the air. My long, pointed ears twitched as I inhaled the delicious musk.

Human pussies had such earthy, delicious flavors. Not like the flowery perfume of an elf. Different, but still wonderful.

My hands undid the ties holding her red robe shut. It fell loose, exposing her round breasts and pink nipples. She shuddered as my hands caressed her mounds, my thumbs sliding across her hard nipples. She let out a shuddering moan of delight as I pushed her back to the bed.

"Are you ready?" I purred.

"Yes," she gasped, carefully slipping off her robe and hanging it from the bed's corner post. The pockets were full of all manner of objects. "My poor legs are on fire.

I pushed her down on the bed and captured her lips in a kiss. Her tongue pressed against mine. My dick throbbed, but I held back. Anticipation was such a wonderful thing. The last few days, I had cum a lot with my cock. I didn't need to rush it.

I rolled Faoril onto her back. Her skin was pale, untouched by the sun. Her ass was bubbly. I caressed her cheek as I straddled her back. I rubbed my wet pussy up and down her supple skin as my hands slid down to rub at her butt-cheeks.

"Oh, yes," she groaned as my finger worked into her sore muscles.

She was knotted up by stress and fatigue. My fingers worked, digging into her flesh. My pussy ached as I rubbed my hot flesh against her back. I spread her cheeks apart, catching glimpses of her puckered asshole. I leaned down, my green hair cascading down to her thighs as I dipped my face between her cheeks.