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The Devil of Thirst	By : sexdottxt Category: +A through F > Dark Souls (series) > Dark Souls (series) Views: 35 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Sekiro or the characters therein. This story is a work of fiction.

Chapter List
- 1-The Devil of Thirst
- 1
Wolf had just made it through Mibu Village. He had braved Ashina Castle and defeated the samurai and nightjar ninjas in his way before clashing with Genichiro to rescue his lord. He had survived the ordeals of the heretical monks of Senpou Temple and with the blessing and curse of his immortality, claimed the Mortal Blade as his own. He beheaded the Guardian Ape only for the creature to reanimate itself and come at him with the great sword he used to cleave it's head from his neck only for him to that was as much of an undying as it was, proving victorious as he severed it's impermanence with Gracious Tears and bringing it death. But even someone as weary as him could not have anticipated the sorry state of this town.

The villagers could not be properly called human anymore. They did not speak save grunts and roars, and their visages were twisted with rot and decay. Their minds were deformed as the rest of them and they came at him with common farming tools, with their teeth and their nails. More than a few times he was overpowered, and he was made to understand time and time again how they could be just as terrible as the warriors of the battlefields he had braved. But when he slew them, it would not be long before they rose up again. Yet he could not bring himself to understand how they would only rise again. And then they would emerge from the earth in droves as if the land itself was vomiting up their unnatural taint.

Drawing the crimson blade of the Gracious Tears, he sent them to the other side. The islands of Japan were as different from the European mainland as Isshin’s sword strikes always a vicious thing to behold whether friend or foe but always honorable were from Owl’s underhanded machinations lying in the branches and looking about at his prey, yet in this one thing the regions were united. Here and there, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Resting at the Sculptor's Idol, Wolf meditated. A cool soothing sensation filled each one of his breaths and the pain in his body miraculously vanished. He was not unused to such feelings after all the trials and tribulations he had suffered, his harrowing journey had made a way of stealing away such joys and made them unimportant as they became routine with each death he suffered. Yet making it past the abominations that were lying in wait had a way of making it new and fresh.

In the distance he heard the faint sound of a shamisen. It was a collection of simple sounds played repeatedly, and even someone like him raised in the shadows and made his living creeping in war had been invited to the houses of nobility and heard better performances as an honor to his martial prowess. But in this dark region, that jarring noise was reassuring to his ears.

Wolf ventured forth to see who was playing. He followed the narrow path between the cliffs as the sound became louder. He could not begin to imagine what sort of person would be so casually playing music in such a troubled territory. As the path turned and opened into a clearing, he saw exactly who this musician was.

A lone figure in a kimono. They had a reed basket over their head. Not an uncommon sight, it was a traditional pasttime of several Buddhist monks to wear such a thing to signify their non attachment to the world and the one sane villager Shosuke from whence he came also wore one. In their hands was a shamisen and they played it absent mindedly. As if the lone figure was oblivious to where they were.

His instincts told him that this musician might not be far removed from the cursed villagers drunk on the Rejuvenating Waters. What Wolf had thought was a strange and off putting melody now occurred to him as a sad one. While he walked he noticed the figure did not seem to be looking at him at all. Yet though their vision was obscured, he could feel their gaze upon him the entire time. Not comfortable with this performance, he willingly approached the figure.

Just as the tune was sad, so too did he hear a faint sobbing from the musician. He realized it was a woman. It was not long until he was standing inches away from her.

“Why are you crying?” Wolf said.

“Because...I'm sad...” she said.

“What are you sad about?”

“I don't know where Lord Sakuza is. Or what he's doing. It breaks my heart. If I can't see him, I'd at least like to know...”

Wolf was silent. For all his talents as a shinobi in stealth and assassination where his efforts led him to slay many important nobles and generals as they lie in their sleep which had turned the tide of many battles and wars even before they started, a power greater than the martial genius of so many warlords, he was still not much of a conversationalist. And even less so with women.

She continued. “But...No matter how many letters I send, he never writes me back. And no one will tell me where he is. Actually, sir...”

He froze up. Her head tilted to look at him just so more slightly. He did not know what she would say next.

“Can you tell me? Where is Lord Sakuza?”

Wolf couldn’t understand it, but that question seemed weighted with the importance of a mission.

“I am Lord Sakuza,” he suddenly said without thinking.

Something of mercy touched him. After all the fighting to rescue Lord Kuro, his heart had lightened from the iron willed shinobi who ruthlessly cut down whatever and whoever stood in his way. The village he had left behind was a sorry sight of ruin. He need not only dedicate himself to destruction.

More than that, it had been too long since he had encountered a woman on his journey. Ever since running into Emma, he had paid her visits for more reason than to learn of the history of his father and Lord Isshin, to add seeds to his gourd. She was easy enough on the eyes, so much so that his anger at seeing her in Genichiro’s company was quickly forgotten, and the last time he had carnal knowledge of a woman was back at the Hirata Estate. Long had he wondered what she looked like under her kimono.

For several moments she said nothing. Looking over her, she did much resemble Emma in a way. But her pale hands and being in this place, that was where the similarities ended.

As that silence lingered, he remembered he had sensed a hidden malice in her that crept past her solemn melody. It was strange, he was not unused to fighting. Wolf’s mind wandered to the Guardian Ape’s reanimated form and the headless spirits of those fallen warriors. And yet unlike those wraiths, this one could speak. But in those brief moments that felt like an eternity, she remained silent. A cold sweat ran down his neck.

Even with the immortal slayer on his back.

Yet she was not angry at all. Instead he sensed a relief from behind her hat. Her crying had stopped. “Oh Lord Sakuza! It has been so long. I am so glad to see you.”

“Yes, I came here for you,” he said. He was glad her mood had improved and now he was just saying anything to keep her happy. He didn’t know whether it was mercy or fear, but he found himself feeling at a loss for words. Nothing like the master shinobi who infiltrated Ashina Castle and braved the trials of Senpou Temple, and not the dead eyed boy taken in by Owl. Indeed he felt much like a child.

“Do you still find me beautiful?” she said. She took off the reed hood to reveal her face. Her head was bound up in a wrap. Seeing her unmasked now, he was not surprised to see that her face was pale as the rest of her. But after coming through the ruined town that came before him and beholding the maddened villagers, her womanly appearance broke all the worry and anxiety that had been building up in him.

“Yes,” he said. It was the only thing he could say. Human as she looked, in that dark region her pale appearance shone like the moon. Otherworldly actually, that boyish inexperience he felt in never courting a woman in this way was accentuated by the fear in his gut that something bad might happen if he didn’t satisfy this ethereal woman.

Her thin lips curved into a smile and her eyes narrowed with wicked intent. Setting her shamisen down without looking away from him, O’Rin undid the wrap around her head. Her dark hair was tied up in a bun as was the style of so many women here in Japan, and in her dark eyes there was an earnest pleading. Wolf felt strange at having a woman look at him in this way, something of fear and yet his hands were not stirring to grip one of his blades. Instead the blade in his pants burned with fire.

Wolf barely had any time to process it when she kissed him. It was such a bewildering sensation, back at the Hirata Estate, he had enjoyed the company of the courtesans and was no stranger to women. But for her ghostly appearance and being in this wretched place, her lips were unbelievably soft. That sense of mercy which had grown in his heart since rescuing Kuro was blossoming into something else, something like affection. In tandem with the want growing in his pants, it only burned hotter.

O’Rin’s tongue slipped into his mouth. Her passion was undeniable, Wolf knew there was something off about her and now he was getting a taste of how unhinged she was firsthand. The craving he had felt whenever he looked at Emma was returning to him, and it had been too long since he had felt this sort of satisfaction. Giving himself to it, he flicked his tongue back against hers.

She moved back, a long line of spit between their tongues. Wolf’s mouth felt strange, it was something supernatural like the terror he felt when clashing with the headless. And yet it was not that, it was so far from fear, nothing like the ever present bloodlust that tempted him to walk the path of a Shura. A sheer hunger that grew with every second as he stared into her eyes, as he tasted her in his mouth. Something so far beyond any other women he ever had before.

“My Lord Sakuza has missed me very much,” she said with a slight giggle in her voice.

Those words beckoned something inside him. As he wondered how she might look naked, she undid the front of her kimono. Instinctively turning to look at her chest, he watched her nimble feminine hands bare her pale and massive cleavage to his eyes. Long used to the company of the most professional and alluring courtesans of the lands, none had a developed full chest like this one. Whatever hesitation he felt was long gone.

“Come my love,” she said.

Wolf’s hands massaged her tits from inside the kimono. Her chest was so plump and fluffy, he could no longer harbor the slightest thought that she was a demon. Biting her lip at his touches, O’Rin showed no alarm at beholding the shinobi prosthetic. Indeed as he caressed her bosom faster and faster, he felt an electric sensation in the wooden bones of his replacement. He had long gotten used to manipulating it as though it were his real hand but this feeling was something else entirely.

He felt her nipples getting hard. The new feelings flowing inside him, he pressed on her bust even harder, and her erotic voice tempted him even more. She clasped his hands, her strange touch on the prosthetic, it was like she were touching his skin for real. Looking into his eyes and holding his wrists, she moved his hands down low so that the fabric of her kimono slid down, baring her full and shapely tits to his eyes. Her erect nipples were jutting out from her pale flesh.

“Has my lord grown hungry on his long journey?” she purred. “His lady has prepared for him a feast to satiate his appetite.”

Too long had it been since he had tasted a woman. Wolf lived up to his namesake, full on eating her breasts. O’Rin’s lustful sighs were already filled with hunger, but the passion and ferocity in the way he devoured her chest became more high pitched and wanton. Holding her new lord’s head close, her voice sharpened the blade growing in his pants.

O’Rin pushed him back and made him look her in the eyes. Kneeling down before him with her hair still kept up and her breasts hanging out, that pale skin and her submission in this darkness, she looked like a bizarre kind of doll. But the meaning in her phantom eyes was clear.

“Show me your true weapon, my lord,” she hissed.

Those words disarmed the last of his restraint. He undid Kusabimaru and the Gracious Tears and let them fall to the ground, these were not the weapons he needed anymore. There was only one weapon he needed now.

Dropping his pants, Wolf’s cock flung right on out. Looking at it, he realized it was much bigger and harder than it was used to being during these heated moments of passion. He was all too eager to use it.

His eyes lit up as she moved up on her own and took his member within her breasts. With every touch between O’Rin and Wolf, he had felt a childish sense of joy like a mother’s touch coupled with the natural craving that a man would feel for a woman. All of that was nothing compared to her tits working his member. The pleasure was unreal, he felt like he was learning of a woman’s touch all over again. Looking up at him she saw his weakness laid before. The pain of the Dragon’s Heritage could never prepare him for this.

She could feel his heat. Wanting so much more, she took him into her mouth. This phantasm was very much at home in the ruins of Mibu Village, a demon pining for a man that would never return and would attack all who failed to satisfy her question. But the killer in her was totally gone now, and now there was only a man eater.

Wolf was thrusting deep into her mouth now. The awareness of other creatures lying in wait across the bridge on his destination had burned away long ago. He groaned harder and deeper than any blow he suffered on his warrior’s path. His organ encased in her breasts and the way she was licking it, it was everything he needed. All of the pent up energy since he came across her was now coming to it’s peak.

He grunted a more pathetic sound than he did when he perished in battle the first time. But there was nothing so humiliating as his orgasm, he unleashed wave after wave of cum deep inside her mouth. Closing her eyes, she continued licking his member as he came, dutifully swallowing every last drop of his essence.

O’Rin stood up. She could not imagine that the man she thought was her precious Lord Sakuza was in truth a heartless shinobi, a killer who would spare nothing to the ends in finishing his mission. Instead this phantasmal woman could only see him as a man who burned with a fire. And she was long to have it.

Reaching behind her head, she undid her bun, letting her long dark hair flow freely. Her mane unbound did not calmly collect over her shoulders but instead it betrayed the thinly veiled insanity that she had managed to hide until now. Looking her in the eyes, Wolf could finally see what she was.

He stared at her nude form. Her pale skin, her otherworldly appearance, and the warped glower looming behind her beautiful eyes. There was something in her that reminded him of the bloated headless that haunted caves and battlefields and the specters that had plagued the woods brought on by the Mist Nobleman. Something of the tainted villagers rotting in Mibu Village. But looking at her flawless unblemished skin in the darkness shining with his cum, her massive breasts, Wolf was not filled up with that mortal dread that brought him close to death by terror. No, what he was filled up with a thirst, a want for so much more.

An image of Emma flashed in his mind. Not just her beauty that made Wolf welcome returning to her side for more than counsel and aid, it was her temperance and devotion to Lord Kuro. For an instant he realized that she would not look favorably upon this decision. But that was only a thought, it couldn’t compare to the temptation offered to him right now.

And O’Rin knew how to captivate her beloved lord. He watched her shrug the kimono off her shoulders, it dropped down her torso, her flat stomach and her wide hips were enough to captivate any man. When it fell to her ankles, he saw her perfect legs, and her snatch glistening with moisture. Wolf wondered why her Lord Sakuza would abandon such a woman.

He thought of Emma again, of his devotion to Lord Kuro. But then for some reason the harsh voice of his father echoed in his mind, the man who marked the side of his face with his sword and inculcated him in the ways of the shinobi. Never relenting in the harsh training since he was a child and raised him in the cold severity of the Iron Code. Forcing him to go beyond what limits he thought he had.

A master beyond any notions of moral restraint.

O’Rin saw the changes happening to him. Her hair unbound and her lovely form totally nude, she knew she had him. Ever since suffering his first loss to Genichiro, Wolf had too long repressed his innate savagery, he had finally longed to unleash himself. All it took to ensnare him was her beckoning him forth with a single finger.

Even for one such as her, she was surprised by his speed. She was standing one instant and then she was pinned to the ground under her. His entire length filled her up and then he was moving it back and forth with all of his speed and power. It was almost like the sensation of her vagina had become absorbed in the penis fucking deep inside of her cunt. But she didn’t mind his brutality one bit, it had been too long since she had known a man and he was exactly what she needed.

Wolf’s sanity was dwindling. The hungry kisses of this woman and her breasts swallowing up his dick had felt sublime like no other woman he had before, it didn’t just feel good it felt unreal, like his very essence was melting away. Fucking her for real was more than that, it was his inner brutality being unleashed and it was him forgetting all the war he had known. He had long denied this part of himself for too long and now he was indulging in it.

Around him the landscape was still encased in darkness. If Wolf was thinking at all, he would have remembered the oppressive wilderness he had traversed through, how nothing beautiful could flourish and survive in this place. How the woman underneath him was anything but natural, her voice became high pitched and almost ethereal, he was still cognizant enough to realize that she was something other than human. But that only fed into his appetites, he wanted this strange creature.

O’Rin was so tight, moving her hips up to meet his advances and clinging to him. Wolf could feel her power in her movements and that only spurred him on to thrust inside of her even harder. The breakneck speed they were fucking each other, her big tits were flopping up and down. He seized her breasts and pressed down on them hard with his hands. Her high pitched moans only became more lustful and in the wide expanse around them, she sounded not like an animal but the demon she truly was, a creature fit for this ruined land.

He wasn’t going to last much longer. She knew it too, felt it in his body, saw it on his face. Whatever she might have been once, she was still ignorant of what she was now and had become, that her otherworldly nature was pleasuring his flesh far more than any natural woman could possibly please a man. She sensed his weakness, his breaking point, and welcomed it.

Pushing himself in all the way, he howled much like a wolf himself and let loose. His dick erupting deep inside of her filled the demon woman up with cum and her voice became high pitched and ethereal, high pitched and filled with her dark pleasure. The sound echoed in the distance around them, and Wolf heard how sinister she was.

But he no longer cared about that. Who she was, who Lord Sakuza was, it was nothing to him. His own life too seemed like a flitting thing that he could so easily cast aside. Lord Kuro, the Iron Code, and this land of Ashina here and surrounding him, it all felt so unimportant. As he stood up, felt her clean off his member with the ardent devotion not even the best whores could match, he was no longer quite human himself. Something quite changed.

Wolf looked at the nearby gorge. It’s waters were tainted with the runoff from the Fountainhead Palace high in the heavens, it’s passage close by in the shrine across the bridge. He was not tainted with it like Genichiro had become but what consumed him now was no longer the same hidden rage that burned hotter than what the sculptor kept in check and bordered this shinobi towards Shura. It was a different kind of thirst, one for the woman under him.

O’Rin stood up. She offered him his swords, and he gave her back her shamisen. The insanity in his eyes was bared to her and she loved it. “Come my Lord Sakuza. Let us wander these lands together.”

In those times it was said that whenever mist gathered round, two fiends would lay waiting about. One a woman in a kimono luring in travelers with her cursed melody, the other a man in red with two swords and a sharpened fang able to break any creation of man, demon and god. The only record of their existence were people maimed beyond comprehension, teeth marks set in their bodies, as this unholy pair fed upon their blood.

Ashina was a cursed land. The Interior Ministry had never forgotten about losing it and were always looming in the shadows waiting for their chance, Owl’s machinations to claim the Dragon’s Heritage had him set to roost watching and seeing things play out planning his dark ambitions woe to those where he set his talons in, and Genichiro’s own desperation had made a ruin of his forces and set his grandfather in secret against him. None of these were a concern for the dark lady that hid in it’s remotest corners, the woman who had turned Emma and the Divine Children’s one true ray of hope and turned him into a devil of thirst.
***
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The Devil of Thirst