Chapter 12

The graveyard is huge. How are we supposed to find a single grave?

“It’s right here,” Penelope announces. “Anfroy the Valiant.”

Oh...

“Now we just have to dig him up.”

Can’t you cast a spell?

“That’s for advance students.” The witch says. “If you recall I told you that before.”

You did, but you’ve cast spells before.

“I have, but they were basic spells,” she agrees. “I learned those from other students. Plus raising the dead takes tremendous power.”

Well, get to digging then. For once we’re going to get away without having to suck a dick or fuck one.

“We still have to deal with Geubert,” the girl says casually.

Yes, but we’ll have the key to his door and thus a means to escape in exchange for the information.

“I guess you’re right,” she concedes.

You sound disappointed.

“Well ... maybe a little,” she admits.

Let me guess, you are sad you’ll miss out on fucking him.

“Maybe a little,” the catgirl says. “I mean I get to get all this sex. It’s great.”

They have been some unpleasant times.

“But they turned into good moments, unless you count being thrown in jail and threatened to be killed.”

Nope, not talking about those. It’s more this whole fucking everybody thing.

“I don’t mind it,” the witch remarks. “Really, I don’t I think I rather like it.”

You would. And that is precisely why were in this mess.

“Well, I guess I need to find a shovel. But where?”

Why not check by the grave digger’s place. Hopefully you won’t have to fuck him to get one.

Penelope finds a shovel by the grave digger’s house. Nobody is home so she just borrows it. After an hour of digging the shovel clanks down on a solid wood casket. When she opens the box up, she finds a desiccated man inside covered only in a shroud. Around his neck is a chain with a key on it.

There it is. This was easy.

Penelope reaches down for the key, taking it securely in her hand. When she goes to pull back though, a hand latches onto her wrists, holding it steadily in the air. The young witch yelps with surprise.

“Why do you disturb my sleep?” the corpse says.

“I ... I was told you had the key that would open up Prince Geubert’s cell.”

“Prince Geubert?” the corpse asks, a look coming over him like he is searching for an answer to his own question. “Ah yes, Geuber. I died trying to save him.”

Don’t say anything about the book. Tell him were going to save him.

“Well, I’m um ... going to save him,” Penelope says.

Good job.

“Plus I need to ask him about a book,” she blurts.

You dunce!

“Book?” the corpse repeats. “Your intentions are not noble enough for my Geuber.”

“Your Geuber?” the witch asks.

“Yes, my Geuber,” the desiccated man says. “We were lovers.”

“Oh...”

Yes! Finally you get to only think about getting fucked.

“We shared everything, horses and swords, beer and women,” the corpse says, sitting up in the box. His face darkens. “Since you do not have noble intentions I cannot give you this key for free. And since you seek him, he is going to have to share.”

What? No way! I really have to put my foot down here.

Penelope frowns. “Sex with a ... corpse... ?”

“Why not?” the corpse asks. “I am Anfroy the Valiant. I didn’t get that name because I was limp.” She looks down between his legs to see the shroud sticking up like a tent. “Even us dead guys need a little pussy every now and again.”

Penelope has a torrent of emotions, as well as a ranting voice flooding her head. Oddly though, disgust isn’t one of them. She says nothing for a moment and thinks about the situation. She has already fucked several questionable things as of late, even lusting over her own cat. Besides, all Faart did was make her even more horny. She makes a decision. “If you can perform, then I don’t see why we can’t help each other out.”

No you just did not...

“It would be my honor, my lady,” Anfroy says.

“Since you are a knight, I expect you to honor my wishes,” the witch says.

“Whatever you wish, my lady.”

Good one. Maybe you’re not as dumb as I thought you were.

“I’m in control,” the catgirl continues. “Understand?”

Wait a minute. Why would you need to be in control, unless...

Penelope scoots back on the edge of the coffin, giving Anfroy room to climb out of it. She watches as the shroud falls off and his cock revealed just inches from her face when he stands. For a dead guy he doesn’t smell unpleasant. In fact he smells quite good, almost like flowers.

“It’s a spell,” Anfroy says, hearing her sniff. “It was a last request of mine.”

“Well, that’s nice,” she says, standing and letting her dress fall off.

It could be the smell of death. I don’t think I could handle smelling that. It’s bad enough even thinking about being fucked by a dead guy. If...

Penelope ignores the rest as she steps out of the dress and then takes a seat again before the corpse, one leg in the casket, the other up on the edge of it. Mesmerized by the sight of his cock, strangely intact compared to the rest of his rotting flesh, she wants to know what it feels like inside her. She wants it as badly as she would any living man’s. She reaches out to take it in her hand and begins to stroke it.

To her great surprise, he becomes wet with precum.

So the prune can get wet.

If he is wet, then she can only imagine what else he can do. She uses it as lubricant while she stroke him harder. Looking up into his eyes, she finds him staring right back at her. He feels so good in her hand and it leads her to wanting something else. So she leans back and opens her legs wide, pulling him as she does so. Anfroy follow without complaint. The young witch leans back against the wall of dirt, pulling him until his legs are pressed against the side of the coffin, between her legs. She pulls until his dead member is just a couple inches from her pussy and then she stops.

“Remember, I’m in control,” she reminds him.

Oh yeah, that makes all the difference.

Anfroy feels his erection throbbing in her pretty hand. “Whatever you wish, my lady,” he says.

The girl moans and he leans closer. She pulls his manhood and pushes the swollen head over her hard clit, dragging it up and down, across and through her soaking wet folds. She is moaning loudly and slowly moving her hips, but trying to be careful not to move them too much and cause him to penetrate her. She figures that since she is sharing her body with Hazel, she should try to be considerate. Maybe then the cat will try to be more considerate and not call her such mean things.

Anfroy, for his part, is fighting the urge to just thrust into her. His cold cock would feel wonderful in her hot snatch. It is extremely difficult considering he has been dead for some time now.

Penelope looks down as she manipulates his hardness, fucking herself with it like she would the Rampant One. He is so hard despite his condition. Surely he was a lady’s man when he was alive. Probably very handsome too. Or maybe he was goofy looking with a big prick—her type of man. Clearly he would like to be in her, but like a true knight, he is following her orders. This is good because she wants him in her so bad that if he were to break her rules, she would let him fuck the hell out of her.