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PlayerUnknown’s Soulsborne Waifu Compendium	By : WickerMan Category: +A through F > Dark Souls (series) > Dark Souls (series) Views: 22045 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dark Souls or Bloodborne, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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PlayerUnknown’s Soulsborne Waifu Compendium
(A/N): Entry three starts with a dear MILF, if you’re into that sort of thing…
Today’s chapter revolves around a gentleman knight by the name of Reginald, a rather polite bloke with oodles of moral character, during his routine shop for resin and mosses. Unfortunately his pockets are a bit light at the moment, and a classic porn plot is in the making!
WARNING: Obvious sexual content, spelling errors, bad language, cringy and heavy dialogue, crude jokes, sex with things that some people might find gross, OC protagonists with little personality, OOC behaviour, old toothless ladies, implied STD jokes, non-lore friendly events, and my first story in around six months and my first LEMON in probably four years!
Chapter Three: Undead Merchant (Female)
He was skint, as the common man would say.
Being a man that hailed from one of the slightly more noble families of Astora, Knight Reginald had always been accustomed to having enough coin on his person. If he went to a tavern he’d leave a weighty tip. Somebody offered to tie up his horse? An equally weighty tip. That somebody turning out to be a thief? He’d offer them a pointy tip.
That being the end of his blade.
There was something empowering about always having the right amount of coin on your person. So imagine his surprise when he turned out his pockets and not even moths emerged, literally nothing of worth being on his person. It was rather embarrassing to say the least.
“Dearie?” she asked. “I need your souls, you know.”
“Apologies, apologies. Give me just another moment.” he stalled.
Reginald knew a lad who knew a gent who’d once pointed out this isolated little spot in the great aqueduct beside the Undead Burg. Said lad didn’t tell him the details, but he promised that he could find all the supplies he could dream of to keep himself going in these tough times, plus a little extra on the side. It sounded promising to him.
“Darling?” she pressed, the water splashing as she tapped her sandaled foot. “Aren’t you going to give me my souls?”
Raising a finger as if with an idea, he said “Most certainly!” in a reassuring manner, followed by a far less reassuring utterance of “Just… Just a bit more time.”
Boots flooded with algae ridden water, the Knight had traversed the secret route he’d been tipped off on and ascended a spiralling staircase to be met with this – a small alcove barred off with iron railings, and an undead woman who stood patiently within.
At first he’d yelped, poising his sword for action with talisman in accord, yet she’d quickly spoken up. She offered succour in various forms, from poison cleansing mosses to varied resins for all his beast slaying needs. He’d been deliberating over his purchase for hours at this point, his toes forever pruning.
“Are you okay sweetheart?” the undead tilted her head curiously, “Do you need to sit down?”
“I… I must have left my purse in my other set of armour.” he finally settled on, conking his fist against an open palm. He struggled to stare into her beady red eyes, “Why, they look so similar I must have picked the wrong one! Oh, the humiliation!”
He forced a laugh that rattled his chest, his very own voice box ashamed by his slanderous words. The merchant woman smiled with what few teeth she had, before sweetly replying. “That’s not a good enough excuse, dearie.”
“No it isn’t.” Reginald instantly folded, never one for telling lies. “I was so taken up by your stock that my lack of funds slipped my mind.” he confessed, sickened by his own lack of currency. What sort of gentleman didn’t have the necessary coin on hand at all times? “I can only apologise for wasting your time.”
Blowing a rather unladylike raspberry, the merchant waved her hand dismissively. “Please, please.” she chortled like one would say ‘pish, posh’, “You can always come back to me, you handsome young man.”
Well, not to brag or anything…
“But I’m afraid I’m in dire need of these goods, kind madam.” Reginald insisted, his hands clasped together as in if prayer. “I could give you my word as a knight that I would return to thee with interest perhaps?”
“No.” was her instant response. “I only take it up front, darling.”
Reginald clutched onto the bars of the railing between them, uncharacteristically desperate. It was hardly befitting of a knight to beg, but at this rate he’d need to do just that. He doubted he could even reach his destination and return with her payment if he didn’t have the resins he required. “In the land of Carim they have a thing called loans, an-”
“Nooooope.” she teased, finding a demented enjoyment in leaving a tall and noble fighter high and dry.
The knight wriggled his nose, his bushy moustache wiggling upon his lip. With nothing else to offer he knelt like a lord to his lady, bowing his head in supplication. “Then I, Knight Reginald of the stately Astora, offer you my service.” after a few awkward moments of silence he came to realise that as a common born the merchant likely had no clue what that entailed, and he clarified with a hasty addition of “What do you require of me?”
She straightened her posture in a mockery of contemplation, tapping a shrivelled finger against her bony jaw. Her decision had been made ages ago. With a hiss of amusement she simply said “Your sword.”
A treasured heirloom of his household, a twinkling jewel of the finest titanite sat faceted on the centre of its hilt. It was his most prized possession, but he had offered his word – knight’s honour. With grandeur but a hint of hesitance he drew his blade from its scabbard and pointed its pommel towards her. Stoically he uttered “My sword.”
It was pushed away like a baby rejecting its mushy peas, clattering to the ground and almost being ferried away by the torrent of water. “No, no dear, your sword.” she reiterated, before swapping the emphasis and having another go “Your sword.”
Scrambling for his weapon he clumsily returned it to its sheath with a small sense of relief, which was quickly overpowered by greater confusion.
His sword.
What did she mean?
Was this some sort of euphemism to the common folk? The fur upon his lip continued to wiggle and writhe, as if desperate to take flight. She stood with growing impatience, errant words stuck in her throat and begging to make themselves known.
“My loyalty?” he tried, hand on knee. They were stepping into some pretty heavy territory for people who had only just met. “My indenture and obedience to you as a knight of the realm?”
“No, your coc…” trailing off in deep thought, she returned with a devious smirk not long after. “Actually… Yes, that would be adequate.” the water continued to ripple, her feet shuffling in apparent giddiness. “Does that mean you’d listen to me, sweetheart?”
Wasn’t that what he was already doing? Reginald bowed his head further, practically upside down at this point. “Well, as a knight in your service I… Suppose that puts me at your complete disposal. I would be bound to obey your every command le-”
Triumphant laughter cut him off, “Vee hee!” she snickered, clapping her hands together in a strangely adorable manner like she was getting double desserts. “Will you have to call me ‘muh laydee’?”
Reginald waited for the reverberating cackles to stop before confirming her words, “Aye, I suppose I would ma’am.” he announced, before quietly correcting himself “… M’lady.”
With a loud, bone grinding creak the bars were suddenly pushed open – it had been a locked door, as if one to a cell for a common criminal. The undead merchant tried to speak as it gradually swung open, but the obnoxious sound overpowered her voice.
Squeeeeeeeee…
… eeeeeeeee..
… K.
“Dea-”
Conk.
The door came to a loud stop against the aqueduct wall.
“Dearie.” she mewled seductively, splashing forward and crudely beckoning him to rise. That he did, six feet and three inches of pure Astoran nobility dwarfing the slouched woman with ease. Leaning uncomfortably close to him she lazily began to rub her palms against his thighs, resting her ear against his barrel like chest. “Have you ever made love to someone?”
“How…!” Reginald stopped himself from shouting in protest, taken aback by such forward words. He was subservient to this woman now, and besides – something about her probing touch and simple voice felt soothing in a way. “No. N-No I have not.”
“Hmmm? Really?” she pressed, her explorative hands reaching around and patting his posterior. “I thought the ladies would be crawling over such a strong, handsome boy.” the undead merchant sounded less apologetic and more relieved, eager to use her newfound friend to the fullest, “And you’re all mine now, darling.”
Knight Reginald swallowed a long list of things at that moment, chief among them being a great deal of drool that had spontaneously gathered in his mouth. Her daring do had a troubling allure to it, a feeling best described as fuzzy stirring in his chest.
“Take off your belt for me.” she suddenly commanded, stepping back a foot and staring straight at him. After two double takes and a single flat out ‘excuse me?’ she pressed harder, “Come on, chop chop!”
Reluctantly he complied, the sheer ridiculousness of the situation flying straight past him. A chorus of jingles and clangs joined the constant echoes of the aqueduct as chain, plate and leather slid down his legs and into the drink.
He was now completely naked from the waist down in front of someone he’d only just met.
This wasn’t a normal turn of events, he was beginning to realise.
Squatting like a curious little girl the merchant woman stared at his exposed member, her gaze critical and meticulating. While appealing to her palate in size and shape, the professionally cut thing drooped and dangled at a nervous half mast.
“Oh dearie me, you’re not looking too hard.” she pouted, the heat of her words caressing his tool in the cold damp of the place. Experimentally she flicked the head with her index finger, watching it flop from side to side at half mast. It stirred ever so slightly as it reeled. “What’s the matter? Am I not pretty enough for you?”
Taken aback by her words almost as much as the strange circumstances he found himself in, Reginald nervously stuttered “O-On the contrary, i-it’s just…” he bit his lip as she flicked his cock once again, feeling it grow stiffer in all its exposure. It felt incredibly improper – but with that came a rising sense of excitement. For a reserved noble such as he perverted activities were unheard of. “I-I’m a bit… Surprised is all.”
“So you do think I’m pretty?” she teased in amusement, her scarred hands grabbing his balls and gently tugging at them like the udders of a cow. He winced in mild ache, but he couldn’t help but watch. “Flirtatious young man, dear oh dear!” the merchant nuzzled her gaunt cheek against his now complete shaft, squeezing it between her face and his stomach. “Hmmm, let’s see now…”
There was a brief pause as she obscured his view, leaning over his cock for the briefest of moments. A thick, warm, dripping wad of spit and saliva drooled from her mouth and pooled on his tip, which she eagerly began to massage and spread across the entirety of his erect shaft. Her hands and his length both slick and slippery, she absently knelt down and pumped away with both of her calloused palm0s.
“Enjoying yourself dearie?” she sung lustfully, sliding his dick between her index and middle finger. She could feel every bump and groove accentuated by her lubing, every lump and vein rubbing against her digits. He hadn’t answered, no doubt lost for words. “Hmmm?”
Switching from the ghostly feeling of her two fingers to the brute force of two hands, she suddenly changed to a wringing motion as she began to twist and tug at Reginald’s glistening member. While the roughness of her grip was eased by the wetness, it still felt rather uncomfortable.
“T-That hurts…” the knight said weakly, embarrassed by the twitchiness that surged through his groin.
“Muh laydee.” she corrected, continuing her rough play session with little worry for her new toy. “You’re saying that, but look here darling!” the undead rubbed her finger against his tip, massaging a healthy amount of precum all over his red and exposed glans. “Vee hee, you’re so backed up… I bet it would taste lovely.”
He looked at the ceiling in shame, anxious to admit that her touch had a certain appeal. He’d held hands with a lady only once; a widowed woman who he had led down a staircase to the ballroom. He never even thought that their hands were capable of such brazen and depraved things. But as lewd and dirty as it was, he could feel his pulse rise to a rhythm. A delayed moment of realisation slapped the knight square on the nose, “Hang on, taste?”
Opening her mouth wide she plunged down like a predator, hungrily swirling her tongue around the entirety of his cock as if savouring a particularly phallic candy. Finger and thumb formed a tight ring and squeezed firmly at the base, leaving his sore and sensitive member to throb in a peculiar blend of pain and pleasure. Muffled by his tool the merchant gazed upwards into his eyes, her own a deep and enigmatic red. After a moment a low murmured turn into a slurred giggle, the vibrations of her laughter sending ripples throughout his length as she slurped a fresh coat of drool.
He could only imagine what sort of faces he was pulling.
While her movements were strong and controlling there was an air of affection to it, as if at this point his pleasure was directly tied to her own. Near toothless gums let her suckle and bite as she saw fit, his cock easily gliding between the scorching confines of her mouth. Every so often she’d tilt her head back ever so slightly, brushing his member against the roof of her mouth and completely swapping the sensations he felt.
He could feel his jaw trembling.
With a loud pop and single gasp of air, the merchant reluctantly freed his cock from her starved tongue. “Tell me honestly…You think I've gone to the other side, don't you?” she pushed, rubbing her thumb between his balls in contemplation. She brushed her non-existent lips against his glans, as if planting it with smooch after smooch. “That I've cracked my head and gone Hollow? You do, don't you? I can see it in your eyes.” the undead flicked his testicles once again, prompting a restrained ‘ow’ as they comically bounced off one another. “You'd trust a patch of moss over me…”
“My dear lady, on my travels…” Reginald objected, initiating his heroic knight mode.
Only paying the slightest bit of attention, she crooned over and began leaving gentle bites on his sack with her teethless gums. His lips trembled which every pinch, each one spawning a guttural moan as she hungrily tugged at the elastic skin. She gave him the sort of “Hmmm?” you didn’t want to hear from someone when you were about to say something meaningful.
“Could you… S-Stop for a second? I thought we were having a moment.”
Reluctantly she freed his testicles from her grasp, staring deeply into his eyes whilst sucking on her precum coated fingers to pass the time. Doing his best to tune out the erotica of such a thing, Reginald began. “I have traversed half of Lordran over these years, and I have met many strange people. Friendly souls such as you are few and far between.” he announced, seemingly confusing ‘friendly’ with ‘absurdly perverted nymphomaniac’. “You have done me a good turn. Your wares have pulled many of my colleagues through the darkest of times. And when the shadows grow too heavy for my mettle, I am comforted knowing that I can talk t-” his cock bounced from side to side again, “… You aren’t listening are you?”
“Veehee!” she snickered, playfully slapping his engorged dick against her cheek and sending the gloopy mix of their combined liquids splashing left and right. How base. How lewd. “It was just a little test for a big, biiiig young man. You’re a good person. I think I like you.” she purred with the closest thing to sincerity she could muster, “And I especially like your cock.” the undead merchant squeezed it at its base, leaving the shaft to twitch and shiver in anticipation. “And I know it likes me.”
She dived right in once again, the confused Reginald blinking in confusion as the moment was lost in the wind. “W-Well… I’m honoured that you feel that way.” the knight stared down at the undead woman, timidly placing his hands on the top of her head and brushing what little hair she had left. “Have you… Done this before m’lady?” he inquired, a brown tuft slipping off her scalp and landing quietly in the water much to his worry. She nipped the flared bottom of his helmet, pinching it between her ridged gums. “H-Hey!”
Breaking free once more she pumped vigorously, “What sort of question is that, dear?” she pouted in mock offence, not that the knight had any concept of sarcasm. “How rude of you.”
The Astoran flushed in shame, “Pardon me, it’s ju-” lapping her tongue like a pesky dog on his tip, a powerful shudder cut off his words and diverted his train of thought. Worry became lust in mere moments. “T-That’s the spot, goodness gracious!”
“I’ve sucked plenty of cocks in my time, sweetheart.” the merchant slurred, adding another few wads of drool to his dick. Torrents of spit and precum drenched it, milky white droplets dribbling down the length of his shaft and dipping off his balls before joining the water flow. “But it’s been ages since I’ve held something this big. You’re making an old girl’s heart race!”
There was no retort this time, the gentleman knight completely surrendering to the will of the undead woman. She loved all of her toys, but he in particular had a certain charm – the others were fuel by nothing but greed; unkempt crooks and liars reluctantly letting her play her games for the sake of their goods alone.
Yet this Knight Reynolds of Courland or whatever his name had been seemed to genuinely enjoy here efforts, his virgin and noble mind no doubt impressionable and malleable to her antics. There was nothing fake or forced about his actions, no repeated cusses or overblown howls of feigned ecstasy. He wasn’t lying to her in the slightest.
It was adorable.
He was adorable.
“You’re thrusting.” she pointed out with a snigger, rearing her head back ever so slightly and cupping his cock with a hand. Unconsciously his hips continued to thrust into her awaiting palm, the sloppy sound of their lube filling the air. “You must really like my mouth, vee hee!”
Now very self conscious the knight stopped himself, having fallen into a strange daze under her relentless service.
Having none of that she clung onto his hips, “No, no, don’t stop.” she cooed, give his dick another long lick from stem to stern. “If you like it so much, why not ‘ask’ for more?”
‘Ask’, to rhyme with ‘beg’.
His hips slowly began to rock again, much to the merchant’s glee. “I-I do like it.” he flushed a deep crimson, admitting such a perverse thing sending a jolt of euphoria through his brain. It felt lovely to let out these feelings. “Your mouth feels so good on my...”
“Big, juicy cock? Vee hee!” she chortled in a manner that was becoming increasingly endearing to him. “Tell me what you want to do then.” as if to give a hint she willed the entirety of his length down her throat with a gulp of strain and effort, before pulling back with a sputter. She was making it impossible to reply, her skills stealing his words. “Do you want to fuck my face? Fuck my mouth and let me slurp up all your thick, moist cum? Hmmm? Come onnnnnn.”
Reginald mouthed a quiet ‘yes’ under his breath, his head too light and his mind too fuzzy to really respond coherently. Wordlessly he held onto her head and began to thrust away, her bony hands clinging to his legs in supplication.
Fuck her throat.
Let out all of your cum.
This was almost too easy. The once serene and subtle sounds of her laps and suckles degenerated into a mindless mixture of grunts and gulps as the knight rapidly shoved his cock through her tight throat from tip to base. The merchant would have given a kinky running commentary if she could speak, the knight’s dripping balls slapping against her drool covered chin again and again. The telling twitches of Reginald’s cock revealed that he was finally nearing his limit.
Hitting the Astoran’s legs in frantic warning, the ever worried gentleman snapped out of his lust for the briefest of moments and pulled away in panic. Before he could ask if she was okay she snatched his soaked cock and rest the tip atop the damp folds of her tongue.
She pumped and she pumped, her tongue a warm caress for the knight’s spasming dick. She didn’t just want his bitter contribution, she wanted to taste it all for herself. She wanted it all over her tongue so she could swish it about her mouth. She wanted him to watch as she claimed what was hers.
And within moments he came, thick ropes of pent up cum a deep and pure white filling her awaiting mouth. The undead merchant struggled to catch it all, the viscous liquid overflowing and mingling with her hungering drool.
Milking the final few drops with her thumb, she flashed the contents of her mouth brimming with hot semen to Reginald and made doubly sure that he was watching as she swallowed it all down in a single, loud gulp.
There it was.
That’s what she wanted to see.
That deep shudder of ecstasy.
Her tastebuds satisfied she continued to cup her toy’s spent member, refusing to let any remaining drops go to waste.
“For such a big, brave knight I thought you’d have a lot more for me.” she sighed in mock disappointment, pressing her thumb firmly against the underside of his tool and slowly squeezing out a few drips more. Reginald huffed amidst spent groans, prompting a snicker. “Only teasing dearie, you’ve given little old me so much cum. Did you make all of this just for me?”
Regaining his knightly character, he wiggled his moustache proudly. “Throughout m-” a surge of pain shot through his testicles as she flicked them once more, cutting him off with a yelp - while his words were sweet and from the heart he had zero concept of sex talk, much to the merchant’s chagrin. She mouthed a few words with what stood for her lips. “… Yes. Y-Yes I did.”
And he wasn’t lying.
Content with the state of affairs she wobbled to her feet on numb legs, her dress soaked through with water, dribble, sperm and who knows what. Returning to her little enclosure she leant forward to tend to her mosses, her rear swaying from side to side enticingly. “I’d love to play a bit more today dearie, but I’ve had so much business lately and…” her hands, still slick with cum and juices, rubbed against the mouldy walls that grew her supply of moss – a collection of strange white patches of similar viscosity sprouting the stalks of youthful fungus. “… Maybe when I have a bit more Blooming Purple Moss in stock, we can try the next step?” she smirked, rising to a stand with a cocked hip.
Reginald blinked, considering the implications of the last twenty seconds as she dutifully went over her wares.
Did she do this with all of her customers?
Did she use their… Contributions… To grow her wares…?
And more to the point, disease cleansing blooming moss for her…?
Filing those thoughts away for another day he said his goodbyes. While taken aback by what he’d just been through, by no means was he dissatisfied. With customer service this good, one had to wonder just why his fellow adventurers had recommended this place in particular. Still, it seemed to end very abruptly.
Just as he turned to leave he continued in a three-sixty spin, raising a hand in wonder. “… That eternal loyalty thing from earlier… Was that all a joke?”
“Yes.” she said absently, engrossed in her work.
Reginald did some mental arithmetic, trying to work out just where he was on the mercantile side of things. “… So could I purchase some resin without any sou-”
“No.” she answered.
A business mogul through and through, he hung his head in defeat. “I see.” he sighed, “Then I shall return with monies and souls aplenty sometime soon, and trade bountiful wares with you!”
“And fuck me hard against the iron bars?” she inquired loudly, turning around excitedly with a clump of moss on hand. The unexpected comment sent him into a stammering fit, the merchant chortling in amusement as she closed her gate “Vee hee, I can’t wait!” she ran her hands up and down the railings suggestively, her voice a low purr. “Come again, if you please!”
With no other ways to express his complete and total bafflement, Knight Reginald of Astora departed silently. He’d met all sorts of undead on his journey through Lordran and held a deep belief that the divide between hollows and humans was a construct and nothing more. Man and undead could live in harmony; could eat together, work together and play together.
And apparently have mind-blowing sex together.
“Pull your trousers up sweetie!” the merchant called a few moments too late, the Astoran stumbling over his bound ankles and falling face first into the drink.
Thanks for the reminder.
X
(A/N): Well, I don’t know about you but the Undead Merchant seems to have a pretty good strategy for customer loyalty. Nectar Points eat your heart out! As for the blooming moss thing? I think protection would be a good idea…
Join us next time where the entire recipe is thrown on its head, as a dim-witted and not at all verbose berserker warrior saves a sweet and thankful Catarinan knightess, who while grateful isn’t particularly eager for a bit of the ol’ sucky sucky!
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PlayerUnknown’s Soulsborne Waifu Compendium