The Commander's Lewd Mourning Ordeal
Time passed as usual, and in the unit's operations briefing room...
"—That concludes the report."
"Good work."
Silveryia Isis, having listened to the report on the casualties from yesterday's battle, gave a brief on the next steps before letting out a small sigh. She turned to the knights watching her intently.
"Everyone, you've all done well. I know I have no right to claim I fully understand the mental anguish you've endured—staying composed while compiling this, even as the shock lingers."
""No, my lady!!""
The knights responded in perfect unison to Silveryia's self-recrimination. Many soldiers had survived thanks to her. Even here, some knights owed their lives to her. It was because of her that they were still standing. Receiving their loyalty-filled sentiments, Silveryia bit her lip slightly.
"Thank you."
At her response, the knights under her command—unlike usual—swallowed hard as they gazed at the empty spots scattered along the long table. It had happened just yesterday. On that nameless peak—now called Blood Peak—a slaughter so devastating it could hardly be called a battle, let alone a defeat.
From her seat at the head, Silveryia addressed the knights staring at her with a solemn voice.
"I know you all have much to say. But for now, at least, allow me to join you in honoring those who fell with honor."
The empty seats of the fallen elicited groans from some, fury from others, even smirks toward rivals they'd despised—but no one spoke. Good or bad, they had been comrades in arms. Though words burned on their tongues, the knights decided to remember the dead for the moment. Following Silveryia's lead, they closed their eyes and began their personal tributes to those lost in yesterday's battle.
"…"
Silveryia tried to pay silent respects to the innocent soldiers slain and even to that worthless, crawling vermin of a staff officer she'd worked with briefly. But then—
Whirr—
'Hah, of all the damn times?!'
Right on cue, at the worst possible moment, something she'd forgotten in her solemnity asserted itself from deep in her belly.
'No, stop… just stop! You fucking orc bastard!!!'
Her body was already hypersensitive from last night's sexual torment. And with that shameful intruder lodged in her most embarrassing spot, vibrations rippled through her insides. Of all times, now—while everyone mourned the dead solemnly—this filthy act?
'The… the vibrations…'
The more she cursed the dog of an orc who ignored her plight, the more the dildo in her ass thrummed like the apple in the fable that grew when touched—wilder, more eagerly.
Finer, stronger tremors coursed through her. Silveryia's face began to flush. She wasn't alone. This wasn't her bed for private relief. Everyone had their eyes closed in tribute. For their supreme commander to drown in pleasure heedless of them?
She desperately wanted to yank out the damn thing flaunting its presence in her asshole right then. But this was the full assembly of her unit's knights. Such indecency… such indecency…
'Hah… ♥'
Right—she was sitting here with a dildo plugged in her ass, legs crossed on this long table, flaunting her alluring thighs. The knights leered with lustful eyes, cocks twitching, as she slowly stripped off her clothes one by one, baring her body—
'Wh-what the hell am I thinking?!'
Snapping from the depraved, shameful fantasy that had surged unbidden, Silveryia squeezed her eyes shut.
'It's this thing. If only I could stop it shaking…'
Any longer and she'd really cum. Determined that now was no time for it, she tensed her abs and hips, trying to clamp down on the intruder inside.
But—
Whirr! Whirr!
'The more I squeeze, the more the vibrations spread through my whole body…!'
As if begging for it, the dildo quivered harder. Silveryia steadied her twitching lips and bore down even harder on her sleek abs.
Trembling from the relentless shaking, she slyly cracked her eyes to scan the room. The harder she clenched, the more pleasure it fed back to her. At first, she endured with pious resolve. But as the limit crept closer, she relaxed her abs and ass.
Undeterred, the vibrations persisted. Her body shuddered; fearing witnesses to her shame, she peeked again at the knights. Fortunately(?), all had eyes closed—some praying, each in their own tribute. Too relieved, perhaps?
'My… my breathing…'
The ongoing tremors inside, seizing the momentary lapse, flooded her with pleasure—like cotton candy swelling sweetly, or a storm crashing over the sea. Her breaths grew ragged. To hide them, she hastily sucked in air.
'No!'
"Hic, sob… ♥"
Even she knew it was a pathetic cover. Had her hidden shame been exposed? Anxiety and strange anticipation gripped her pounding chest as she trembled(?).
But human imagination knows no bounds. What reached the knights' ears amid their closed-eye mourning was their beloved commander's fair grief for all her subordinates—high and low alike. Her heated gasps became stifled sobs of sorrow; her pleasure-shaken form, heaving waves of emotion.
An clumsy leader unable to hide her grief over her men's deaths—that image of Silveryia moved the knights. They empathized with her "sadness," soon weeping themselves for the massacre's victims. Some even shook like her(?), stifling sobs.
Unable to bear the tension, on the verge of moaning, Silveryia glanced around the now-noisy room. For some reason, her knights were suddenly crying. Shocked by her lewdness? Disillusioned by their idolized hero?
'Yeah, they must be disappointed in a slut who craves flesh at the worst times.'
Self-loathing at her pitiful state mixed with the thrill of taboo as she watched them weep—her lips curled slyly. Her hand slipped under the table to rub her pussy mound.
A pity it was over her pants, but they were already soaked at the crotch with her juices from her writhing. Her silver pubes peeked from the slightly slipped waistband. As her fingers reached, the coarse texture tingled her tips.
Gulp. Rubbing over the fabric pushed it aside; stray pubes rubbed and tugged. Faster she went, heat building in her lower belly—physically, lustfully.
Like a thief sneaking into a home, she slipped her hand into the leather pants' gap, swallowing excited breaths. She parted the lewd slit that had clenched shut all day, ready to feed it a finger as it begged—
"Sob sob… Lady Silveryia…"
"I'll follow you forever."
'Huh?!'
Squelch.
The mood had turned weird. Why were the knights crying? Looking up in haste, Silveryia saw the room awash in tears—even those burly, bandit-like men bawling vows of loyalty.
They're not crying from disappointment in me? Like kids learning their hero is a bloodstained killer? That's what I thought!
The enveloping thrill of depravity vanished; her face paled by shades.
'Wh-what do I do?! This… this wasn't in the plan!'
Squelch.
"Hng?!"
In her panic, she'd forgotten her finger buried in her pussy. She yanked it free, clapping both hands over her mouth.
"?!"
The slick, sticky feel on her lips… her own juices!
'What now… what now…'
She covered her mouth with one hand, sucking the drenched finger clean. Salty tang mixed with sourness. Amid knights weeping for her and her finger-sucking absurdity, she slurped it secretly.
'Yeah, act like nothing happened… like I grieved and overcame it. Back to the hero they believe in—Silveryia Isis! No one will know!'
Straightening, she tensed her abs and ass fiercely—
Vrrrriiiiing!
The forgotten dildo's ambush. Her overstrained abs contracted her belly naturally.
'The vibrations… hitting my womb…!'
"Ha, haht… ♥"
The lewd thrum in her womb drew an unwitting moan. A small climax hit; she bowed her head to hide her face, voice lowered.
"I… I want to be alone… Everyone, please leave…?"
Any frail knight maiden gripped by grief—they longed to comfort her, but it was an order, her pride. Wiping tears, they rose, saluted the bowed Silveryia, and filed out.
Now dazed, drooling Silveryia…
'You… you orc bastard ♥ I’ll never forgive you(-vrrrr)—cumming! I’m cummiiiing!!!!'
Blaming the innocent(?) orc, she writhed in the pleasure she absolutely didn't want.