The Heretic Knightess

[GibberingGerbil1]

Many know the chivalrous Paladin class of the royal ranks, but to paraphrase Tolesgoy the prophet, "all good knights are alike and all bad knights are bad in their own way." the opposites of the Paladin are many, some devouting themselves to pure evil, some reject good and evil like the Void Knights, and some decide to chase good in the form of deranged and twisted pleasures, examplified by the Heretic knight...

-Maximus Cantus, the full knight codex

The fire crackled low, spitting sparks into the night like tiny, dying stars. Miga sat cross-legged on a log, alone as usual, gnawing the last greasy strip of rabbit from the bone. Her mood as sour as the wine in her almost-empty flask. For three days they've been trailing this mad halfling sorcerer through briars and bogs, and what did they have to show for it? A clearing. A pretty little clearing with nothing but moss and moonlight.
It drove her insane. She spent all afternoon casting and re-casting the locator spell, she went over her magiCalculus countless times, she KNEW she had a piece of his hair.
Maybe a short walk would help, clearing her head. She rose from her log and threw the bone into the fire, and almost bumped into Captain Torvald and two of his posse. His mood seemed to mirror hers.
"Captain," She greeted coldly the vain brute. "before you say anything, I'll admit that this was unexpected. But I believe I can figure out the situation with a little correction to the spell and-"
“I've had it up to here,” he spat, kicking dirt into the flames. “With your failings, you vain amateur, full of empty bragging. If you want to "figure it out", stay up late tonight. We're going back to the citadel at dawn, I’ll petition the Lord Marshal for a proper mage, not some hedge witch who follows ‘feelings.’”
Miga got unusually annoyed with his attitude. “well, Captain, this hedge witch can still turn your tongue to lead and your balls to blueberries.”
The posse member on the left snickered from that remark. Torvald’s face went red as a forge coal, but before he could respond the blue light came.
It rose from the trees around the clearing, forcing everyone's shadows to point inwards to the clearing's center. The last thing Miga heard was Torvald’s startled curse, cut off like a blade through silk. Then something hard hit her head, and she passed out.
She woke naked.
The air was warm, close, scented faintly of stone dust and something sharper (ozone, maybe, or old magic). She lay on a low cot, rough wool blanket beneath her back. No windows. One door. A single oil lamp flickering on a hook.
On the chair beside the cot hung a sleeveless grey tunic, ankle-length but slit up on both sides to the top of the hip. She pulled it on quickly. The fabric clung to her full breasts and hips, the slits flashing pale thigh every time she moved. It felt less like clothing and more like an invitation.
The door opened without a knock.
The woman who stepped through was slim, almost boyish, with short auburn hair and a red version of the same tunic. The color suited her; it made her lips look blood-bright when she smiled.
“You’re awake. Good.” Her voice was soft, almost kind. “I’m Sofia. Welcome to your new life.”
Miga’s fingers twitched. She was tempted to attack on the spot, but then she remembered the first priority – find and rescue the prisoners.
“Where am I?” she demanded.
“Underground, in the safe and warm embrace of the Do-Gooders.” Sofia’s smile widened. “Don't look so shocked, please; we're truly a gang that fights to spread good hard and wide. Here you’ll serve, you’ll eat, you’ll join the cause. Disappoint Master Havatek, and… well, everybody has their place here.”
Miga’s stomach turned to ice. “Havatek. So the little rat bastard really is behind this.”
Sofia’s eyes glittered, and her smile flickered momentarily. “Come. I'll give you the tour.”
She took Miga by the wrist with a gentle hand, but Miga felt the power that was restrained under the surface. She led Miga out into a warren of torch-lit corridors hewn from living rock. The air grew warmer, humid. Strange metallic clinks and soft feminine murmurs echoed from ahead.
At the first chamber Sofia showed her was a long workbench table lit by floating globes of blue-white light. Women (all human, all wearing the grey tunics) moved with careful precision, slotting thumb-sized hexagonal scales into velvet-lined cases. The scales shimmered with various colors, mostly deep sapphire.
At the head of the table stood a heavily pregnant woman with long black hair braided tight. Her grey tunic stretched obscenely over her belly, the side slits showing the heavy sway of her breasts, and barely covering the front of her thighs.
“Hello, Hamza, dear", called out Sofia. "We've got a new girl, an enchantress like you.”
Hamza lifted her eyes from the table, mumbled "Hello" towards Miga, and barely looked at Sofia before going back at her work, staring at it's the only thing keeping her alive.
Miga’s throat tightened. She knew that woman, she taught her magiCalculus on her first year in the citadel. She was reported missing two years ago, and now she's here, swollen with some creature’s brood, reduced to factory drudge.
Sofia tugged her along before Miga could speak.
The next hall stank of sweat and iron. Here the work was coarser: women hunched over looms, stitching more of the tunics; others hammered glowing metal into blades and arrowheads. Massive hexagons the size of wagon wheels were hauled in iron-barred carts (colored sapphires and emeralds, pulsing like hearts).
"Here are the servats who are incapable to do the delicate work of the magic harboring", Lectured Sofia. "every non-perishable that we need is made in this hall… are you okay, dear?"
Miga was almost lost for words, as the realization was dawning on her.
"It doesn't add up", she said. "these long corridors would've stunk up to the heavens, even in the clearing, and I know that there was nothing outside of it, I checked my spells. But that clearing is just too…"
"Small?" mused Sofia. Her smile had a sharp side to it now. "Not bad, LITTLE mage, it usually takes new people a few days to figure this out."
"But…", tried Sofia. "How small am I?!"
"Like the rest of us, about 2 feet tall, maybe a little taller," smiled Sofia. "It's all in the dragon scales, you know. We've only started scratching the surface with their magic manipulation abilities, you know. Hamza was our only magic-wielder up until now, but we've already managed to store those shrinking spells in them, she can tell you all about it."
Miga’s memory snapped into place. "Dragon… I know you! Sofia elfir, you went with Hamza Thornward to slay that dragon too! What happened to you, didn't you use to be a paladin?"
This erased Sofia's grin altogether. She glared at Miga, her right hand rested and twitched on the place where a sword used to hang on her hip.
"I go by a different title now, please don't deadname me again.", Sofia managed to relax a bit. Her sharp smile returned. "Come on, I've saved the best for last. The place for those who cannot be trusted.
The third chamber was a nightmare carved in flesh.
It was vast, humid, lit by dark purple phosphorescence. Rows of large iron cages lined the walls, and in each one was one woman. But they were never alone in them; on the women, in them, crawling over them, were various animals. Some women were kept in place by clever leather straps, but for the most part they were simply overpowered by the excited beasts:
Rats the size of wolves to Miga’s shrunken eyes, their fur slick with excitement as they mounted shrieking women doggy-style, pink cocks thick as a giant’s forearm slamming home.
Mites (thumb-sized to normal folk, but horse-sized here) scuttled over bare breasts, latching onto nipples swollen to bursting, sucking greedily while the woman beneath sobbed.
A mole the size of a bear laid heavily on a sobbing redhead, its girthy dick rooted deep in her cunt and its velvety snout attached to her face, tongue longer than Miga's head shoved forcefully down her throat.
"These members are experimenting with the scale's effects on breeding abilities," Sofia explained giddily as they passed this horror and the other. "While under the shrinking effect, it was proven that human females can mate and breed with pretty much anything, and some even showed limited telepathic abilities over their offspring."
They've reached a wooden table at the far end of the room, with many glass jars placed on top of it. And in them…
Miga barely suppressed the gag reflex.
"Here is one of our most daring experimenters, Spider. Say Hello, Spider!"
Sofia lifted a jar sommelier. Inside, a tiny dark-haired woman was held in the air by some strings, arms tied behind her back. The air around her swarmed with houseflies, each twice the size of a hawk, iridescent wings buzzing. Every few seconds one or two landed on "Spider", crawled over her naked body, forcing stubby ovipositors into her pussy, into her ass, laying eggs in wriggling clusters while the woman screamed silently, eyes rolling uncontrollably.
Sofia tapped the glass fondly. “Spider had such hard time settling in, she even managed to scare of a rat. You don't have to do anything like this, dear. If you learn your place.”
Miga’s knees buckled. She tasted bile.
Sofia set the jar down and led her away.
The prisoner dormitory was a single cavernous room with row upon row of straw pallets. Maybe sixty women, all shrunken, all grey-clad, some openly weeping, others staring at nothing. At the sight of Sofia bringing Miga in, they all kept away from the cage's door and hurried to the far wall, as if trying to keep as much distance from her as possible.
Night fell, or what passed for it underground. The lamps dimmed to embers.
Miga waited until the snores began, then crept from pallet to pallet, whispering.
“I’m Miga of the Sapphire Citadel. I was sent to find you poor souls and save you, with my one last way out. I can trigger spell and carry you, one-by-one, to a magical haven called Avamon. Just stay quiet and follow my lead.”
Hope flickered in exhausted eyes. A few women clutched her hands, tears falling like rain. A first candidate to be saved was chosen, a young black-haired woman called Ella, almost a girl.
Miga knelt with Ella in the center of the room, closed her eyes, and spoke the incantation. Silver light flared around her, warm and familiar.
When it faded, she was alone, and she was not in Avamon.
She opened her eyes to polished oak floorboards stretching in every direction, the grain wide as country roads. A four-poster bed stood in the center of the room, and on it…
Havatek.
Havatek was kneeling naked on the bed, the right side of his face scarred, messy brown hair falling into his eyes. To Miga’s two-foot frame he looked nearly eight feet tall, broad-shouldered and thick through the chest for a halfling.
He was grunting, balls-deep in a tiny blonde on her hands and knees, fucking her with slow, deliberate strokes. Havatek’s hand rested possessively on the shrunken girl's shoulder, pulling her in with every thrust and reaching deeper. The girl cried in pain with every thrust, for she was literally half the halfling's size, her small tits swaying and her belly showing the outline of his relatively huge cock.

At the foot of the bed, Sofia lounged on a tall stool, legs spread wide. Hamza knelt between them, face buried obediently in Sofia’s shaved cunt, licking in steady, practiced strokes while Sofia idly twisted the woman’s hair.

Havatek glanced over his shoulder, spotted Miga, and smiled like a child unwrapping a present.

“There she is,” he said, voice soft. “The red scale worked exactly as hoped.”

He gave the blonde one last thrust, groaned, and pumped his load into her. When he pulled free, thick white rivulets dripped from the girl’s swollen pussy lips onto the bed's sheets. He left her there, panting, and turned his full attention to Miga.
She backed up a few steps, her hand starting to form the sign to summon a fireball. “Get any closer and I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” Havatek stepped closer, ignoring her warning. His cock was still half-hard and glistening. "The rare red scale's specialty is sucking into it any magic cast spell, your teleportation spell included. You cannot use magic anywhere around its perimeter, which is my entire lair."
Miga's heart sank, and her knees started to buckle. Havatek crept closer and was starting to loom over her.
“Your guild sent you straight into my parlor, little mage. You've proven your value as my mule, and you will bring me to my new destined lair in Avamon. But first, we'll fix that tiresome loyalty vow."
He moved faster than she expected. Before she knew what hit her, she was scooped up, his left arm crushing her onto his chest hair, his right palm groping her bare ass under her cloth. She kicked and snarled, but his grip was iron. His fingers touched and felt as they pleased, sliding expectedly on her clenched openings.
He dropped to his knees again and laid her on her back, pinning both her wrists above her head with one hand. With the other he lifted the front of tunic over her waist and nudged her thighs apart.
“No,” she spat. “I’ll bite the fucking thing off.”
“You won’t,” he said sneering. “last time I checked hedge witches don't have teeth down there.”
The head of his cock brushed her entrance—hot, slick with another woman’s juices and his own spend. He pressed forward.
Miga clenched her jaw as her lips parted around him. It hurt—gods, it hurt—but it was bearable. He was thick, but not monstrous. Just a brutal, unwanted fucking. She could survive this. She stared at the ceiling and counted heartbeats, waiting for him to finish.
Havatek sank in to the hilt with a satisfied sigh. “Tight little cunt,” he murmured, rolling his hips. “Feels like you were made for this.”

She refused to make a sound, and turned her head to not meet his gaze.

Then Sofia knelt beside them, smiling like a cat. In her fingers she held a single blue dragon scale, no larger than a coin to her, but glowing with cold fire.
“We haven't started the persuasion yet", Sofia whispered.
She touched the scale to Miga’s forehead.
The world tilted. A wave of vertigo crashed over her, and Havatek’s cock—perfectly tolerable a heartbeat ago—grew.

Because she was shrinking again.

The shaft inside her thickened, lengthened, stretching her walls with sudden, shocking pressure. Miga’s breath hitched.

“One,” Sofia counted cheerfully.

Havatek didn't pause. He drew back and thrust in again, deeper now, the ridge of his cockhead dragging against her g-spot hard enough to spark unwanted heat.

Sofia touched the scale again. “Two.”

Another sickening lurch. Miga’s pussy clenched involuntarily as the cock inside her swelled further. It filled her completely now, every vein distinct, every pulse of blood a throb against her straining walls.

“Three.”

Miga whimpered. The stretch was turning from pain to something sharper, a deep, aching burn that radiated through her hips. Havatek groaned, savoring the new tightness.

“Four.”

Her legs trembled uncontrollably. The cock felt enormous now, splitting her open with every thrust. Her belly bulged slightly each time he bottomed out, the outline of his shaft visible beneath her skin.

“Five.”

She couldn’t hold back the cry this time. It tore out of her, raw and desperate. Her cunt fluttered around the massive intrusion, pain and unwanted pleasure tangling into something dizzying.

“Si-ix,” Sofia sang, pressing the scale gently.

Miga’s whole body seized, and she was now crying in truth. The cock inside her was obscene—too thick, too long, battering against her cervix with every stroke. Her pussy lips were stretched thin and shiny around the base, trembling with the effort of taking him.

Havatek leaned down, breath hot against her ear. “Say it, little mage. Give me your vow.”

She shook her head frantically, tears streaming.

He fucked her harder, hips snapping, balls slapping against her ass. The pain was overwhelming, a white-hot spike driving straight through her core.

Sofia held the scale over Miga, teasing. “We can go to ten. Your cunt will still take him. Eventually you’ll beg.”

Miga broke.

The ancient words of the loyalty vow rose unbidden, twisted by agony and terror.

“I… I yield…Lavanum! Mortis! Kaptun! Havatek!” The final word shattered out of her on a sob. “Permanum!”

Magic flared, golden and searing, rewriting itself inside her soul. The vow snapped into place—irrevocable, eternal.

Havatek roared in victory. His cock swelled one last impossible degree inside her ruined pussy, and he came.

The first jet of cum hit her cervix like a fist. Pulse after pulse flooded her, thick and scalding, until her belly rounded with it. There was so much it leaked around his shaft in creamy pulses, dripping down her ass crack onto the floor.

When he finally pulled out, Miga’s cunt gaped—red, swollen, fluttering helplessly. Cum poured from her in a slow river. She lay trembling, legs splayed, too broken mentally to move.

Havatek looked down at her, satisfied. “Good job, Sofia. She'll fit right in. train her for the next few days, and then put her to work.”
With that, Havatek grabbed Hamza roughly by the arm, and dragged her along, presumably to his bed. His grunts soon renewed. Only Sofia remained by her side, now clearly double Miga's size.
Sofia leaned down and kissed Miga’s tear-soaked temple. “Don’t worry, dear. Tomorrow I'll start your training seriously, as the new ward of this Heretic Knight. However, tonight we'll start with something nice and easy.”
With that, she lowered herself on Miga's face, her enlarged cunt soaking.
"Finish me off, will ya."
Miga stared at the ceiling, feeling Havatek’s cum cool between her thighs, and let the desperation sink in. Even if she'll survive tonight, she belonged to him now. Body, soul, and every aching inch of her nearly-ruined cunt.

[Kaylinne]

Excellent story and interesting premise, hoping to see more in this universe from you!