As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's posted up past chapter 50 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week, please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY from now until they're both caught up with each other (like I was doing with FwB until this weekend).

And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to my DISCORD here: h- t_ t_ p-s -: -/ -/ -discord . g-g / N9yDA8t6Cw (taking out hyphens, underscores, and spaces of course).

TRIGGER WARNINGS yet again! This chapter and story contain human x monster and might in future have human x animal stuff. This chapter is a lead-up to that, and has some if it included. If that isn't your cup of tea, skip the scene or read elsewhere. But it's gonna continue. And, believe it or not, it IS plot-relevant.


Chap. 31: Filthy Pigs

Princess Zelda was rather impressed with the stamina in her arms as she touched down, barely even sore, far below the tower's roots. She had landed on the rocky, pebbly beach on the west bank of Fir River. With plenty of daylight ahead, and in fact most of the morning still, she quickly set about using her Remote Bombs from the Sheikah Slate to gather up some of the rich ore veins in the vicinity, scanned the river for sunken chests with Magnesis, and then switched to Cryonis. That Rune, with the Slate held out much like she would for the magnetic magic, was used to simply create a bridge of ice which allowed the water to flow beneath it, expanding constantly as she walked at a casual pace across the river.

With a chunk of raw topaz, a second of opal, and a third of sapphire, as well as a few more pieces of amber and flint added to her ore collection, the princess felt even better about her bargaining opportunities in the village ahead. With any luck, she would reach it in just over a day. First, though, there was that cabin to check. Though it had no smoke coming from the chimney, it was simply too inviting not to investigate for a resident. At worst, she figured it might be the home of a Bokoblin or two, perhaps a flock of pigeons and raccoons. At best, a friendly face.

Left unsaid, and not even really thought, was someone to satisfy the growing itch and urge that had already begun returning despite its satisfaction the day before with blowing a monster's cock.

While she found the cabin completely abandoned, it did not appear to have been that way for long. At least, nothing had moved in aside from a family of rats and a few birds in the rafters, though the door was missing and torn aside. The rats had gotten into the food supplies, rendering much of what she hoped to find useless, Zelda did find a hastily-hidden bundle of arrows for her quiver tucked away at the back of a broken cupboard in the small cooking area.

She didn't consider staying for long, afterward. The bed, which might once have been cozy, was now filled with the black pebbles left by teh rats, and the white goo left by the birds. She would rather sleep in the wild alone, risking attack, than the disease those would offer.

The canvas and thatch roof, too, had several gaping holes in it from lack of care. Perhaps the place had been abandoned longer than she had thought?

Aside from a few targets painted on carefully-constructed but obviously aged posts moving alongside a barely visible trail, Zelda could find little else of interest in the immediate area. There were a few notable landmarks still, however, just a little further out.

Of closest, easiest access was the hill to the south, which sported stone walls of what might have once been a fine hunter's home. Remnants of a chimney and door frame once stood about a quarter-mile away from the first cabin she had seen, but it was in far more disrepair than the wooden structure, with barely a half-dozen stones in any place still stacked to form crumbling walls. The door itself, however, was still there.

A rusted, pitted slab of iron that had once held, she suspected, some nobleman's crest leaned against part of the crumbling wall, with a suspicious stone underneath it. Zelda frowned thoughtfully... and quickly decided it was at least worth a check. It was not like using Magnesis seemed to come with a limit, after all, not even the recharge time of the Stasis or Bomb Runes. With a casual motion of her wrist and a few button presses, Zelda shifted the door away from the rock and lifted it with a single toe. She had, after all, seen this very sort of hiding spot before.

Not for the first time, and she sincerely doubted the last, the princess accepted the Korok Seed offered by the tall, long-masked forest spirit, and continued on her way.

Lake Jarrah, to the south down a steep bluff, presented Zelda with not only a gorgeous view of the natural landscape of Hyrule, but another small series of ruins to explore... and another Octorok.

Like the first one she had met, the one that had groped her relentlessly, this one was blue, with reed-like fronds growing from the top of the large bulb-like head, and lived completely submerged aside from the green fronds. Her eyes narrowed, and slim fingers immediately sought out the simple wooden bow, pulling it free and then stringing it quietly before she moved closer. Her supply of arrows was not limitless, but she had well over two hundred now, and estimated she would need, at most, two. One to lure it out, and the other to burst the foul thing like the Calamity-serving monster it had become.

Only, as she drew close enough for a shot, she noticed another, then a third. Beyond them, in the ruins themselves outside of the small bay of the lake, a towering red Moblin moved between two of the walls before vanishing again. If she was close enough to one, the second could see her, then the third monster. If she moved close enough to dispatch it, the Moblin, if it was looking her way, would see the princess without question.

Was it worth it?

Moblins were something she knew she could kill.

But they were not easy, and where there was one, there could be more.

Yes, she decided, it was worth it. By the same logic she had decided to slaugher the bandits in the highlands further south and west. Every enemy she dispatched, even temporarily, was one less chance for them to hurt the innocent survivors of her kingdom. Eevery foe slain added to her experience, her strength. At least, in theory.

Surely, if she was injured, that would be temporarily negated, and that was largely the worst risk. If she was killed, there was no hope. But capture would be worst. Still, Zelda had proven to herself that she was perfectly capable of blowing up two bombs on either side of her stomach just to prevent her capture, if the enemy tried to take her alive.

Even if she did not think she would survive that again, she was blessed by the Goddess Hylia. Vitality and endurance and strength of will, the Goddess had said, were hers. Beyond what she currently had possessed, certainly. Was she the equal of her former self? Zelda had no way to know.

But she was stronger, hardier. If she had survived the twin blasts before (just barely), she would likely survive them now.

Hopefully.

That was still the worst-case scenario, of course, but as her mind raced to calculate odds and probabilities, it only added to her surety that her course of action was correct. She would attack.

The first blue, tentacled beast was taken down in a single shot, the angle of her arrow perfect as the iron head slipped beneath the surface and into the bulb before the feathers touched water.

The second, taken from a hidden ledge half-way down the bluff a few hundred feet east, was just as skillful, and that Octorok died in an instant too, with barely a ripple in the water as its body collapsed. The third noticed her, but it had time only to lift from the water and send a single round stone hurtling her way before Zelda exhaled and loosed her third arrow. It, too, exploded, and she ducked, the rock sailing overhead to shatter against the cliff. Pebbles and dust coated her back painfully, but Zelda grinned. All three tentacled creatures were gone, and she was safe. Able to attack the Moblin alone, and from hiding if possible!

This should be easy then, the assassin's blade on her hip would hamstring the giant beast, bring it down to her level, and then it would be helpless. Yes, indeed, very easy.

At least, that was the hope.

Its snorting, heaving breath was loud as she crept closer, keeping to the shadows beneath the nearer brick and stone wall... carefully now...

Closer... another two steps, as she heard its great, pig-like muzzle snort and sniff. There wasn't an appreciable breeze, just the one coming off the lake due to the cold water in the increasingly warm day, and...

And she was between the water and the Moblin.

Zelda could not help it: she cursed, "Damn it," and stood, determined to at least take the thing by surprise in speed if it knew she was there.

Her vicious sickle came upward first, underhanded as a knife-fighter might hold it, and it slashed up the Moblin's abdomen from just above its loincloth to the bottom of its ribs. Blood and even a single loop of intenstine oozed and then spurted out. Zelda jumped back, hoping to escape the reach of one swinging arm that came around in a haymaker.

She did, but only just, some strands of golden hair yanked free from the knot it was tied in currently as the fist ripped through the air just in front of her face. Less fortunately, she was not out of the reach of the follow-up. Just as her sandaled feet touched the rocky ground, one in the water and one out, the half-sharpened pole it was using as a spear caught her in the midsection.

All the air left Zelda's air in a rush, and her head started to spin. She coughed, and fell to one knee. Somehow, she swung again, and the Moblin lurched back just after taking a step forward, a thin line of even darker crimson appeared on its left shin. It was just a glancing blow, though, and the Moblin seemed to be smarter than the average Bokoblin, at least.

It did not close again, not right away. Instead, it used the reach of the spear not as a thrusting weapon, but a long club, swinging it twice over its head to build up momentum in a single arm, and then with a whistling sound, brought it down toward Zelda's head. Dazed, she reacted too slow. She ducked, but not quite fast enough.

Her head reeled from where the stick had caught the top-knot a majority of her long hair was bound up in, and she tumbled sideways against the water. Then the Moblin was on her, and Zelda froze in fear once more.

It had three legs, her dazed, oxygen-deprived mind told her. Three legs, on a giant Moblin! How silly!

One thick thigh, the one she had struck with the blade, landed on her right, and the other her left, while the middle leg slapped against Zelda's belly. Both it and her armor were quickly coated in thick, red blood from the first wound she'd struck, but Zelda's exhausted, fuel-deprived mind could only think about a few things at a time.

It was on her. She was looking at its third leg, almost snout-like, twisted in a corkscrew, just inches from her mouth, with two- strangely pig-like- holes at the tip, a lot like the snout above it. A snout which whuffed and snorted, drooling with a leering grin down at her. A long tongue came out, and slithered against her lips.

She was afraid.

She was going to be this thing's plaything, next.

Was that all she was for? A piece of meat to be fucked by monsters, or the Yiga, or whoever else...?

She needed to fight, didn't she? But why?

Her brain could not understand either. Why did she need to fight? Why wouldn't she?

There would be pain if it had its way with her, of course, she knew that. Even close to passing out, Zelda knew that. Its third leg was huge after all, easily as long and thick as her lower arms, hand included. But Goddess, would it not also feel amazing? How full she would be!

Bubmin... she had liked sucking Bubmin off, at least at the time. That was... fun. Better than being raped, at least. She had chosen to do that, even if it was because of the drugs the Yiga had given her. Or maybe it was because of what Hylia (at least, Zelda assumed it was the Goddess) had done to her?

She wanted this beast, too.

Wanted it to stretch her pussy out so delightfully painfully, to mount, to rut, to fill her with itself and with seed, to...

Bubmin was not there. She gasped, struggling to bring in air, as her diaphragm relaxed. The Moblin's slobbery snout was still against her as its tongue sought entrance to her mouth in a vile, disgusting kiss.

Numb fingers closed around something she could barely feel.

Her arm moved, almost of its own volition, even as she bit down as hard as she could on the long, strange tongue that writhed against her lips. The tip of the blade sank deep, dagger-like for all the odd angle, into the Moblin's neck from the side. It squealed, a wash of putrid, offal-scented air blasted into Zelda's face.

Then its weight vanished, and she gulped in pure oxygen and air once more.

Zelda gasped for several seconds, probably more than a minute, before she felt she had enough oxygen to risk standing back up again. Even as she rolled over to lever herself to her feet, she felt dizzy and paused... no wonder.

With a clarity she hadn't possessed while laying on her back, Zelda realized she was still half-submerged, with her head facing down-slope. Blood had rushed to her head, too, no doubt. Maybe that was what had given her just enough oxygen to fight back at the last moment?

Or maybe it was desperation, some subconscious desire to prevent another sexual attack?

Zelda shuddered, as her twisted mind moved to the three Octorok tentacles, still wriggling independent of their bodies, that she now carried in her satchel.

Perhaps she should try severing a Moblin's member next, just to- just to see?

If it would fit...?

No, she told herself, That's disgusting, and vile, and impossible.

It's still not as large as a baby, her traitorous brain supplied reasonably. At least, it would seem to be trying.

Still, Zelda held off the temptation with a scowl as she glared at the pole that had winded her. It was dull, nearly useless.

True, her sickle now had a large knick it in from where it had caught the Moblin's ribs, and was coated in blood along with her outfit, but... it was still a much sharper, more useful weapon. She would stick with it, for now.

She sighed, gathered up the horn and two teeth that was now all of the Moblin's vanished remains, and turned her attention to threats before continuing her explorations.

There was another Moblin wandering through a copse of trees a few hundred yards from the ruins, so Zelda made sure to keep her head down as she slunk carefully through the ruins. Magnesis, Cryonis, and even Stasis made searching through the rubble surprisingly easy. The first identified a locked drawer in a half-broken desk. Inside it was a small stash of money, likely left from whoever had once lived here. Fifty rupees in a mouldering bag, which also contained a cut opal about the size of her thumbnails, while a small armory a room away- or possibly a warrior's bedroom- held a rusted shield and sword, a broken bow shaft, and some quivers. Two were empty, but a third held a small stash of yellow fork-tipped arrows that sparked and shone with energy.

"Shock Arrows," she exhaled, looking at the five jagged tips in awe. The Fire Arrows she, perhaps, had enchanted a century ago were a marvel, but she had nearly fifty of those. She had fifty just the night before, but had used a few to clear the way up the Tower. Ice Arrows were harder to come by, and she had but nine after using one. These, though, seemed even more useful, or at least more rare, as they were the first bundle of five she had seen. The first at all, in fact. "I'll definitely be careful with using them," she decided, "but like all my resources... they are there to be used."

Night had fallen when Zelda left the ruin behind and moved east, toward the trees where the Moblin she had spotted earlier had been. It took her nearly an hour more to find it in the dark, for even though it was snoring loudly when she reached it, the sound of crickets was nearly deafening. Zelda stopped over her prey, the sickle held in a similar fashion to how she had used it against the Bokoblin high over the forest, the last protector of the Tower the night before. She would cut its throat, end it quickly, remove the threat.

But first...

Her body shivered against her will, as her brilliant, emerald eyes moved.

Moblins were truly horrid creatures. A Bokoblin might be a little over half the height of an adult man, and most were a little shorter than Zelda. Bubmin, a Blue-skinned one, was as tall as she was now, though he and most of their kind rarely stood at full height. Moblins were half again as tall as a human, instead, and the shortest of them would tower over a huge Hylian. The one she was staring down at now with hate in her eyes was relatively average, long and lanky, much like the first ones she had killed in the Forest of Time, below the Great Plateau.

Its muscles were visible even now, taut and lithe, without much in the way of comparative bulk, but she knew they were prodigiously strong and had the leverage to use it. A little slower than Bokoblins perhaps, they were far more lethal overall. If one of them ever got the drop on her or stunned her like that again, there was a good chance it would have its way with her, or simply crush her completely with a single blow.

But...

Her eyes wandered further. The head was the worst part, she decided, like a great pig's. Only its snout was elongated comically, as far out from the rest of its skull as her arm, with a mouth shaped like a pig's but stretched to match it, and a tongue of grotesque proportions. She knew that part all too well. What would it feel like, plundering the depths of her body?

She shuddered again. Further down the waves of a muscled abdomen and just-showing ribs, its loincloth had fallen to the side in the thing's slumber, and a penis the size of the last one's lay, half-exposed, against the grass. Even while sleeping, it twitched, as the nose caught a faint whiff of her, or perhaps its kin's blood.

No... it definitely smelled her, for while the beast's breathing did not change much, it did quicken slightly as it snored, and the penis began to swell. Larger, higher, thicker...

She had been wrong before. That, or this one was just bigger. The erection, at full mast, throbbed and pulsed nearly an inch in distance at the tip. It was porcine, as she recalled in her dazed state, with a corkscrew shape to it that twisted as it narrowed from as wide as her shoulder to her wrist at the tip, before breaking off in a pig-snout shape with two thick, slitted holes between and below a slight knob at the top. It did look very much like the Moblin's snout, she decided.

Her mind betrayed her with lustful, horrific thoughts once more. As long as her lower arm and hand might be true, but it was much thicker and the screw shape twisted just enough it would mold her body to it, hit her inside there, and on the other side there, pressing and stroking against the inner nerves, pulling on her folds just so, as it thrust powerfully in and out...

Zelda shook her head violently, and slapped herself between the legs, hoping pain would absolve herself of the growing wetness that must, even now, be visible in the scant moonlight filtering through the trees.

The pain did not help. If anything, it made things worse.

She stared... and knew there was only one thing to do. One thing she had to do, before she took that thing in her mouth, or stripped completely and lowered herself on it.

The blade drew silently across flesh, parting it easily...

And the Moblin's eyes went wide, a mere moment of terror flashing across its face before there was only smoke and a single long, equally twisted horn left.

No... No... No, she couldn't...

Her trousers came down to her ankles, and Zelda, scowling at herself, sank to her knees in the forest loam. One hand, the one not still holding her bloody sickle, moved to the horn, set the base down on the ground, and then angled it just so...

She lowered herself down onto the filthy, depraved ivory, and sighed in ecstasy as emerald eyes rolled up in her head. "Goddess, yes..."

She was right. The strange twist of the bone mirrored the Moblin's shaft in the same way the penis had mirrored the thing's snout, only on a smaller scale. It rubbed her insides strangely, but it also stretched and kneaded the tender folds of her vagina, coaxing another moan from her as she raised and lowered again and again.

Like she was mounting a man, astride him, she bounced on the horn, stretching her cunt further and farther until she was holding it all. At that moment, its worn, just-rounded tip nuzzled against her cervix, and she gasped in pseudo-pain mixed with surreal pleasure. Like the Ancient Screw, this form of masturbation was twisted, deviant, horrid, but oh so delicious!

And she felt so good, so full, it was... it was enough.
She climaxed moments after taking the whole horn, her body shuddering and writhing mid-bounce on it, then fell forward with her face against the detritus of hundreds of years of trees, with her bare rump sticking into the air, while shimmering liquid coursed down her thighs from the cleft between them. "Goddess... what is wrong with me...?"