Stupid Nympho of a Priestess 6 - or 'How the hell did I get stuck with a woman as horny as this one?!' (Nymphomania Priestess + Other RPG games SI)

EDIT: Kohaku's POV.

It was a new morning, and Kohaku was happy for her current life.

She wouldn't go as far as call it perfect, but she was truly content with her current social situation. It could be worse, or it could be better- but Kohaku was not complaining at all with her current hand. Times and times again she had worried on how to live her own life, how to handle the notion that she loved cock so much.

For a priestess she was, this idea of being a pure cocksleeve to many slimy and nasty men always enticed her. Not by default, but it grew to her through mere curiosity. Kinks were, after all, secrets meant to be discovered with the growth of one into sexuality, and Kohaku was not shy to interactions where her protected womb was assaulted by numerous fertile and rich seeds. Some from rich nobles, other seeds from unwashed homeless people that treated her as the cumdump she loved being from time to time, despite their origins and birthright.

When she ultimately decided to travel the world as an adventurer, Kohaku did so for two main reasons: 1) Get to taste new cocks and 2) find someone that could break her 'curse'. She was aware that her nymphomania was problematic- no, it was unhealthy. She didn't need to be told it was so wrong, but she also knew it was just so good.

She was a 'slutty priestess' as her Master called her. A whore, a bitch, a woman of little to no loyalty to genuine romance but a true and absolute submission before a fat scrotum and a girthy dick. It wasn't her fault, and yet she felt the need to blame herself for that. After all, she did nothing to prove him wrong.

And her Master? Oh, he was the best she could have gotten. Part of her had dreamed of finding a kind, humble and youthful master to worship as the purest thing while also corrupting him into a proper partner; while another part of her wanted him to be a rough and handsy man that could get all horny and demanding on her tender but lustful flesh.

The one she got was perhaps the best option possible, beating her previous options by a fair margin, but not within reasons that a mere nympho could explain. It was even complicated to think on how to elaborate it on the spot, the kind of surge that came right as she wondered how her master would react at knowing she fucked another man. The disinterest, the faint disdain on his face- it was just the thing that hit her inner masochistic pig self. The sheer disgust, the absolute repulsion- he wanted to ditch her so badly, but he couldn't do it. And that's what made her so aroused by him.

He was handsome on the roughish kind of sense of the word, keeping no attention on trying to appear as handsome as he could be, and purposely trying to push her and a few girls that were giving him eyes back. He was so... perfect. He was the one thing that made her squeal and beg for something that would never come. Why was she so certain of it? It was his clever response to the notion she was deeply in love with sex.

The sheer amount of precautions would be laughable if not for the fact it got to the point that she couldn't even snatch some used underwear for some 'sniffing'. To learn his scent was nigh-impossible, but Kohaku had the chance to see his length just once before her secret came out. It was during their first visit at the public baths and, using the holes left by some peeping toms, Kohaku had a glance over a lovely length. It wasn't the biggest or the fattest or the filthiest, but it was just the size to stir her womb crazy. The mere thought of that day could easily made her wet and in heat.

John Bukharin, such an unusual fellow, but quite the shrewd and steadily-growing adventurer. He was the one holding a big sword and using it masterfully, cleaving his way through waves of pussy-thirsty goblins with ease, or even decimate large man-eating spiders. The haunting manor? That was where she knew he had gotten to the point where he could easily murder any idiot trying to 'steal her away'. But that's the thing.

Kohaku knew he wanted her to break and leave him. She also remembered what happened with Yarizo. Good man, but ended up making the foolish mistake of trying to help her master. Silly Yarizo paid, and her crime was nicely covered up by her master. Then the poor mayor, such a welcoming soul but one that wasn't exactly within the situation he could handle anything too extreme. A mere fellatio saw him pass away with the nicest smile a man his age could hope to muster before death's maw. Literally.

It wasn't like Kohaku had wanted this last kill, but she took this as a sign that she had to lead the poor pervert through the last pearly gate before heaven was given to him. And she was still an instrument to her divine contributors. She was a fierce believer of her good deeds but also her bad ones. Never once she considered herself the best priestess in her religion, but who was really if not just the few saints strapped at the core of her faith?

Beyond that, Kohaku was happy. Things have been getting rowdier, and she knew that Iris did it with her Master. She felt his smell on her, but was quite sure that no cum had been delivered to her womb. Why so? That made her so confused about it. And yet curious to know what really made her Master interested in people- or better, in women to bed.

What was his priority? Or his limits- the strengths and yet the weaknesses that held him from being fully in charge. She would never surrender her trusted right of being the submissive bitch in sex, but she knew that some precautions had to exist if- when she ended up seducing her Master and see what happened at the end of that first of many breeding session.

To Kohaku, it was like smelling the beautiful landscape of a new and uncharted world through a curtain of mist and smoke that prevented her from savor it with her eyes and soul. But like any good slut, she was patient with her wins and losses. She was making gains, but so was her Master. A true competition of ideals between standard vanilla and pure debauchery.

Yes, Kohaku had no official name to it, yet the wonderful mind she had quickly rewarded it with a creative and fitting one: Love.


AN

Here's Kohaku POV. The slut, with a heart (not truly of gold but not even of shite), and stupidly unable to decide if she is lusting or romancing after poor John.