This tall and imposing monk, a commanding presence, that frayed Vixen's nerves putting her on alert. His bald head gleams in the light, showcasing the smoothness of his scalp, which is a mark of his disciplined lifestyle. A carefully groomed goatee frames his strong jawline, adding a touch of wisdom to his serene expression.
He wears flowing robes in earthy tones, symbolizing his connection to bance and spiritual crity. The fabric sways with his movements, hinting at a life spent traveling between cursed nds and sacred sanctuaries. Around his neck hangs an oversized neckce of heavy prayer beads, each bead carved with intricate symbols of protection and warding. The neckce clinks softly with every step, a constant reminder of his spiritual purpose.
His eyes are sharp and penetrating and without an iris, capable of discerning hidden truths and unseen dangers. Despite his austere appearance, there's a quiet domination in his demeanor, hinting at the unrelenting and uncompromising vow against dark magic that drives him to break curses and aid the afflicted. His movements are deliberate and graceful, a reflection of both his martial training and spiritual discipline.
"My name is Kiran, a Cursebreaker Monk. I make it my mission to lift the burdens of those afflicted by dark forces," he said studying her closely, "You seem weary, as if the weight of your curse drains your very soul." She nodded, her voice strained. “For a while now, I’ve been pgued by a curse of lethargy. At first, it was just fatigue but now…” She hesitated, struggling to find the words. “It’s been getting worse. My limbs feel heavy, my mind foggy, and there are shorter intervals between the times I am forced to sleep and longer bouts of it, it's slowly consuming my strength.”“Curses often feed on the vitality of their victims, growing stronger as they are left unchecked,” the monk said, stepping closer. “You’ve found the right person for the job. I will do everything in my power to free you.”
“Thank you,” she said, a flicker of hope in her tired eyes. “How does this work? What must I do?”
He gestured toward a sturdy carriage parked nearby. “Come with me to my sanctum—a mobile sanctuary, if you will. I perform my work inside, where the tools and wards of my craft reside.”
Her gaze shifted to the carriage. “That? You travel with all you need? I’ve never heard of a monk like you.”
A faint smile crossed his lips. “The path of the Curse breaker is a rare calling. We must be prepared to move swiftly, for curses do not wait. Now, let us begin.” He walked to the carriage, opening the door and motioning for her to step inside.
She climbed in, settling into the warm, incense-scented interior. Shelves lined with tomes, jars of herbs, and gleaming trinkets filled the space. The monk climbed in after her and leaned out the window to address the driver.
“Driver, take us to the next city, I believe its Tormac. The road ahead may be long, but we mustn’t dey,” he said firmly.
The driver nodded. “As you wish, Master.”
The carriage jolted forward, the rhythmic sound of the wheels echoing through the quiet vilge. Inside, the monk lit a small ntern, its golden glow illuminating his sharp features. He turned his full attention to her.
“Now,” he said, “tell me everything you remember about when this curse began. The more I understand its origin, the closer we come to unraveling its hold on you.”
She csped her hands nervously. “It was a thug who was trying to take advantage of me, he cursed me upon his dying breath."
He nodded slowly, his voice steady. “Curses are significantly more powerful if he performed it in within the throngs of death. Where is your curse mark?"
Her frown deepened. “I- its on my butt cheek, do..."
He interrupted gently. “Such details only help illuminate the path ahead.” He reached for a pouch of beads, muttering a prayer. “Rest now. You will need your strength for what comes next.”
As the carriage rolled on into the night, the monk prepared his tools, the soft hum of his chants filling the air as he began his sacred work.
After nearly twenty minutes of prep, his body began to glow with divine energy, though it was simir to her own it had a different signature to it, a different feel. "Please remove your clothes, I must look upon the mark."
Vixen looked at him quizzically, but didn't argue. She sat down on the bench and took her pants off, then putting her hands on the window of the carriage bent over so he could inspect the mark. At the monk's first gnce it appeared as an intricate, swirling design resembling withered vines or spiraling smoke. The edges of the mark are faintly blurred, as though it is not entirely of this world, giving it an otherworldly, unsettling quality. The half closed eye in the center of the now much rger mark glowed slightly alerting the monk of its true nature.
As the curse progresses, the mark seems to pulse faintly, almost like a heartbeat, and its tendrils spread outward, creeping across the skin like an invasive shadow. The mark's texture feels slightly cool to the touch, and those afflicted often describe a faint tingling sensation emanating from it, accompanied by a deep, pervasive weariness.
In dim light of the carriage, the mark occasionally shimmers faintly, a sickly, dull glow that intensifies when the cursed individual is overwhelmed by fatigue. The glow is not bright but carries an eerie, draining presence that seems to sap the energy of those nearby if they stand too close for too long.
The center of the mark is the most distinct: a small, circur void that appears impossibly dark, as if light itself cannot penetrate it. This central point acts as the core of the curse, anchoring its debilitating effects and radiating its lethargic influence throughout the victim's body. The closer someone looks, the more the void seems to draw their gaze, instilling a creeping sense of unease, as though it is staring back.
"You're correct, the curse has indeed been getting worse. Luckily I am able to pinpoint the center of the curse and shall work on removing it. May I proceed?" The monk asked respectfully.
"Yes please," Vixen responded in kind.
The monk put two fingers in front of his face and chanted a spell, Vixen heart rate increased as she felt something tight wrapped around her throat. She looked into the reflection of the gss but saw nothing, however, when she went to ask Kiran about it there was no sound.
"I pced a spell of silence on you, its delicate work and I cant be distracted. I apologize for not warning you ahead of time," Kiran expined.
He then pced his hands together as the divine energy flowed to his hands, he then wound up and SMACK. He spped the center of the eye as hard as he could, Vixen's eyes widened in surprise. Her legs shook slightly as she felt herself get moist, the eye mark on her cheek was now wide open.
The monk dropped to a knee and began to work his energy coated hands onto the mark, each time few minutes he spent massaging her cheek, the tendrils of the curse would recede slightly. Vixen's knuckles were white, while her moans could not be heard, she was trying not to cum.
The monk was all the more intrigued, as he massaged the curse with his ability, the woman actually orgasmed. He could see her dripping with desire. The monk found himself operating within a conundrum, on one hand he pursued enlightenment supposedly above worldly desire. On the other he had devoted himself to the people, catering to their desires far above his own.
"Can I do both?" The monk thought to himself as he stopped massaging the mark, which was smaller now than when he had started.
"Stay right like that for a few minutes please, I may be able to increase the efficiency of my assistance," Kiran expined.
Vixen was doubtful, but she did not see anything questionable in the reflection of the window so she closed her eyes momentarily in obedience. The monk closed his eyes putting his hands back together, focusing his energy using his principles and her desire to manifest his intent.
After a few moments of silence only disrupted by the noise of the moving carriage Kiran's eyes snapped open. He disrobed in one fell swoop, and Vixen inaudibly gasped. His thirteen inch long member now glowed with the same energy as his hands had, it had slightly illuminated the dark interior of the carriage.
Before Vixen could protest she was grabbed by the hips roughly before his piping hot member penetrated her. Kiran thrusted in to the base, Kiran could feel the woman clench his dick hard as her head reared back in both ecstasy and surprise. He could feel her orgasm from the unexpected insertion, but his work was not done, the curse mark fred angrily at the divine energy severing its connection with her.
Kiran brought his cock out painfully slow, when his tip was near the entrance he powerfully rammed it back in, the mark fred. The monk began to coordinate his pulling with his thrusts, the sound of cpping reverberating loudly throughout the cabin. The monk reached under her top and grabbed her overly rge breast as he continued to thrust with increased vigor, her noiseless moans unheard. Which each thrust the curse mark grew smaller and dimmer. The monk was getting close to climaxing himself, so he whipped her around so fast that she was forced to sit, he quickly shoved his cock down her throat before cumming.
The curse, while being less powerful during the actual purification of it, still reduced her energy and she didn't have the time to react or prevent the massive cock from entering her mouth. The hot cum went down her throat, momentarily fring her energy before the combating effects of the curse took it away. Her body orgasmed uncontrolbly, drenching the seat beneath her. Kiran grabbed the front of her shirt and ripped it in two, he then picked her up and smmed her down on his dick. Vixen reared her head back several times more sensitive than before from her multiple orgasms. Kiran now suckling on her nipples, her breast bouncing from the rhythmic force of his thrusts.
The curse grew ever dimmer, Kiran had noticed it grew much angrier after he came into the woman's throat. His guess was that since it was much closer in proximity he'd have greater success cumming inside her, this woman must've had this curse mark for a while for it to be this stubborn. Vixen cwed the man's back involuntarily as the monk's muscur arms bounced her to and froe along the length of his massive dick, her body would shudder when her uterus was knocked on like battering ram. The curse visibly shrunk, "THIS IS IT, BARE WITH ME!" Kiran shouted as he worked into a fervor, he yed her down on the carriage bench and grabbed her arms for leverage as he jackhammered away at her. Vixen arched her back, her breast bouncing quickly to illustrate the speed of the man's thrusts, her pleasure spiking. The man came hard, her belly growing warm with cum. Kiran pulled out as more sprayed from his tip covering her breasts in it, the curse mark was no where to be seen.
