Knifu

You are a Shadow Priest.

During the stressful events of the Legion invasion of Azeroth, you were tasked with scouring for weapons to help combat the demonic assault. Your research turned you towards a sect of cultists and, upon engaging them, you found yourself entering a pact. It was not a simple acquisition, but a soul- and destiny-changing event forever binding your already corrupt soul to a particular dagger that would grant you immense, unparalleled power.

This, however, was merely a bargain. The weapon you acquired was not just a hunk of steel beset by overpowering shadow energy, but an entity all its own. Yes, as you held it within your hands for the first time, you heard a voice call towards you. This voice, feminine and sultry in its tone, tickled your inner ear drum to the point of servitude within that very moment. Yet, despite its aura, it - or she - would come to view you as a sort of partner. Xal'atath was the blade's name. An old god sealed within its confines called to you. You knew deep down that you should cast the blade away and forget about it for the rest of your days, yet something drew you towards it - something powerful and dreadful all its own. Clutching the handle within your desperate grasp, you escaped away with the ancient power firmly within your grasp deep into the Netherlight Temple, where you dwelt on the consequences of your actions.

Some months later, you had fully given into Xal'atath's whispers. Some would call you insane, but never to your face. You would surely flay them alive given the chance, despite your previous holy nature. Foe after foe fell to your shadowy might, aided by your metallic companion. Throughout your journey, your 'companion' of a fallen old god conversed with you - got familiar with you. To say it was a friendship was tumultuous at best given your previous relationship with her kind, but to deny that her voice was not soothing was a flat out lie.

One night, far into the Legion campaign, you took a rest within a Dalaran inn. The magical nature of the respite meant not only were you guaranteed a room on some dimension you could not conceive, but you left in complete solitude. It was a perfect time to set Xal'atath aside and meditate. Sure, you were pushing upon the brinks of insanity as any person could withstand, but at least you haven't crossed it yet.

Deep within your meditation, you heard her voice. Her sweet, enticing voice. That voice would convince any normal man to do whatever she demanded, but you were more steadfast than that. Her siren call piqued one of your closed eyes open. Straight in front of you was a curved blade of a most distinct design. From handle to blade tip, it was curved in an 'S' shape that split directly in the middle. Handle below with a guard and deadly blade above, the most distinct of the feature was the pale blue eye that was centered in the middle. It was staring you down directly.

"I suppose even you need rest."

Her voice echoed in your mind from a realm far beyond your comprehension.

"But I guess relaxation has its benefits. Rest now, priest. We'll continue our war later."

Relaxation was a seldom benefit in this war-torn land. Though you tried your best to be on every corner of the Broken Shore, your body was only mortal. It needed rest. Taking in a deep breath, you relaxed your shoulders and felt a metallic object occupy your lap. Eyes jolting open, you looked downward only to find your dagger laying flat within your lap. It looked like she was not too keen on distance, despite her godly origin.

Compelled, you grasped the handle for yourself and held it against your body. The flat end of the dagger pressed directly against your stomach. Though you still wore your robes, you could swear you could feel the coldness of the metal directly upon your skin. You breathe in a sharp jolt of air through your clenched lips. As you tried to relax, you heard her voice in the back of your mind, as though her lips were pressed directly against your vulnerable ear.

"All men can be tranquilized in a certain ways, you know."

Your eyes shot open at that remark. What could she possibly be talking about? In the darkest recesses of your void-touched mind, you had an inkling of an idea, but there was a myriad of problems. She was an Old God, how could she possibly be talking about 'that'? Even then, Xal'atath was nothing more than a dagger, right? As she sat upon your lap, more forbidden thoughts crossed your mind, and you had to wonder how many were your own. Your erection was beyond obvious. A firm tent formed in the center of your robes that pushed so far upward that it brushed the edge of the knife's handle. To that brush, the voice emanating from the weapon resonated deep in your mind once more.

"Oh? A mortal's desire....how interesting. Something I have never experienced."

That surprised you. What caught you further off guard was what was implied. Xal'atath was an odd one, both being very upfront with truth of the world, but still managing to twist words in her own veil. However now she was not so secretive. The ocular handle was staring focused straight upon your protrusion. Though your lips stumbled and mind raced to mumble out any excuse you could muster, her voice pierced your trepidation like the dagger she was.

"Even we have desires, you know. They are many, but we could tackle one this night."

You thought to yourself the absurdity of the situation, but a lingering curiosity in the back of your mind simply had to be sated. Without a word, you gripped her by her wrapped handle with one hand and hesitantly undid your belt. The bottom half of your robe would have been easily to slip off had it not been for the sultry moaning in the back of your mind.

"I never knew my pupil was so...gifted."

The compliment made you cough. You had shimmied your bottoms off and revealed your bare erection underneath to the blade. Had an acquaintance walked in, you surely would have looked ridiculous, but thankfully the magical hotel prevented such a possibility. With you alone holding your knife, you raised it straight outward and pointed sideways. The weapon's eye flicked from your stiff cock and back towards you. She had no lips to speak of, but you could imagine a sly smirk if she did.

A question eating away at your semi-sane mind passed your lips. Just how was thing supposed to go down? It was embarrassing enough already baring yourself to a companion, even if she was only a dagger. She chuckled and responded.

"This form isn't best suited for such a thing, but I've already thought of this."

In the center of the grip, a cloud of white gathered. You cocked an eyebrow, clearly confused, but she was ready to explain.
"Thrust yourself within and relax. Surely we've done far more far-fetched things..."

You suck in a breath of air and steady your trembling hand. She picked up on your shyness and reassured you with a less-than-comfortable series of feminine whispers running over your mind like a pair of massaging fingers. Not confident in what will happen, you bring the hilt just over your bulging head. There was enough space to grip and still aim for the center, avoiding the dreadful inner spins on the outer ring.
"Do it."

She commanded. You obeyed. The center of the dagger passed the tip of your tool and through the cloud of white swarming in the center. A chill ran up your spine. It was warm and fleshy, despite the odd magical fog. Xal'atath's voice cooed in the depths of your ear, tickling your ear drum. You swear you could feel fingers run along the side of your neck, though this was preposterous. Curious and desperate for more, you brought the side-held dagger down until the handle lay flat against your balls. The intensity of the feeling prior only grew. Heat surrounded your shaft and caught it in an embrace that pulsed every half second.

"Mnnnnn..."

Came Xal'atath's seductive voice. She was enjoying it as much as you. Without thinking, you pulled it upward and brought it careening back down, thrusting through your precious dagger's handle as far as you could. The maddening pleasure it gave stung deep in your mind and sent sparks across your body. She uncharacteristically kept silent, encouraging you to delve further into her embrace.

You found yourself working up a steady pace of raising your weapon up and down your throbbing cock, pumping the magical hole like you would a back alley slut. Any decency you had was shed for now, rutting into it like the animal you were. Though you grunted and panted, completely surrendering to the lust induced madness, her voice in your mind remained steady and relaxed. She encouraged you thrust deeper against the handle, to rub up against the metal, to get closer to her prison while indulging in both your lusts.

Another full thrust inward, you have an idea. You twisted the dagger and pointed the sharp directly towards your head. Leaning forward as best you could, you found yourself able to reach the blade's tip. Your saliva-ridden tongue extended out and licked straight along the center. The cold metal steel left a shiver across your body and an excited yelp in your mind. Xal'atath moaned loudly, encouraging you to further lick and explore the dagger's 'body', careful not to cut yourself. Thrusting deep, occasionally licking or kissing the metal edge, even stroking the handle like a close lover brought you to the edge.

Pulling out of the magical middle, you dropped Xal'atath onto the bed and crawled over her. Though she initially protested, she understood what you had in mind. Lowering yourself, you thrust straight along her shapely body as best you could. She had to shut her eye, but this minor inconvenience was not enough to summon a complaint. You no longer had the magic wringing your cock dry, but feeling her smooth, steely body beneath you brought you to the edge. With one last thrust, you gripped your base and aimed your head straight at the weapon.
Cum shot out of your body harder than you ever had done before. Full, virile loads of pearly white splattered your dagger's hilt and blade. Endless pleasure washed through your body aided by the voice of a Goddess egging you to shoot all the harder. When you were finished and gathered your breath, you glanced down to see your blade covered in your seed. She opened up her eye, flickered her iris around, and refocused on you once more.

"That was marvelous..."

She whispered. Though she was dirtied, she did not seem to mind. Without much gas left in your tank, you crashed beside her and clasped her handle once more. Bringing it up and to your sweat-covered chest, you let her rest upon you while you drifted off. Another unusual night, but with her as a companion, you could imagine worse situations. You'd be able to clean her off in the morning, but for now, you closed your eyes and faded off to dream while she plotted both your next moves.