Chaper 1: Angra Ba'ahram
[Pre-Story Bit]
I’m gonna keep this bit short and sweet this time. This story is one of three possible big, multi-chapter stories that are in the running to become my main project after I finish Daddy’s Home, and in gratitude to my faithful readers, I’m giving my fans control over its course! [redacted]
Content warnings: Hyper-scale cocks, size difference, cumflation, magic, rough sex, mind reading, girl-on-girl, Incest (kinda?), and possibly excessive exposition.
[/Pre-Story Bit]
For a human to truly understand the true nature of the multiverse, they must set aside their ignorant self-importance and open their minds to possibilities beyond the scope of their understanding. They must perceive the three dimensions that mortal minds can, and accept the existence of a fourth they cannot. They must open themselves to the aether, the raw magic flowing along the fourth dimension, for once a mind tastes the aether, it can perceive the magic all around them. They must look upon the ever-expanding infinite vastness of their own universe, and humble themselves with the truth that their realm is but a single plane amid infinite others. They must accept that even as their world is but a single grain of sand in the vast desert of their universe, that universe is, itself, but a single pages in a vast tome of realities, a single facet upon a shape beyond mortal comprehension.
In ancient times, when the realm of humans was rich with aether, some of the wisest and most powerful individuals could do so, and could harness the power of the aether to work great feats of magic, looking or even walking beyond their own sliver of reality to see the multiverse for what it was. But even in those times, the human ego often interfered, many assuming the worlds they saw were no more than distant places upon their own tiny blue marble, or realms of reward or punishment for human souls that abided or violated their own concepts of morality. They gave these places many names, such as Agelermiut, Tir Na Nog, Jotunheim, Mount Olympus, Heaven, Tlalocan, Aaru, Cockaigne. Nearly fifteen hundred years ago, the last of these ancient mages walked from the mortal plane, and as he left, he worked an immensely powerful spell. His power twisted the multiverse around his home realm, to seal it off from those powers that might threaten it, but inadvertently cut the realm off from the flow of aether, as well. When the spell was complete, one could freely leave, but others could only enter it when summoned. In the centuries hence, the human realm’s aether has grown scarce and stagnant, and as both the secrets of gathering what little remained and the tales of those who walked the realms beyond passed from living memory, they became legends and myths, distorted and twisted throughout the ages with each retelling. In the modern era, humanity is confident in its woeful ignorance, secure in the belief that their universe is alone. Indeed, belief in other worlds, visitors from beyond, or worst of all, magic, is regarded as a delusion at best, or at worst, insanity, and those who could open frontiers beyond imagining are locked away.
Among the infinite realms is one particular plane. Myths and tales of this realm pervade almost every human culture, often twisted and warped, but made no less dark for the change. The true name of this realm, and the self-name for those that inhabit it, is all but unpronounceable to the human tongues. Humans gave it many names, but all called it a horrible realm, a place of suffering and punishment where only evil could be found, where violence and cruelty are as much a part of life as breathing. One particularly notable traveler gave the realm and its inhabitants names, names that, translated and retranslated over thousand of years, became ‘The Abyss’ and ‘Demons’, and thus they are known to humans.
Demons were once a simple race, much like humans, and may have come to resemble humans were it not for a unique biological trait. When humankind was still developing an understanding of fire, they developed the ability to absorb aether as it passed through them and metabolize it into anima, a form of energy their bodies could use to repair and maintain their cells. Suddenly, a demon could heal their wounds, repair cells damaged by disease, sustain them without food, water, or even air, and even keep their cells from aging. Demons swiftly became nearly immortal, able to survive and grow in even the harshest conditions. The only way to truly kill a demon is to starve it of aether or slay it in a sudden, usually violent way. Demons swiftly found they could also convert anima into magical effects, and even use it to shape their own physical development over long periods of time. The only problem was running out. Aether could only be absorbed at a fixed rate. Anima was slow to build up on its own, and the more it was used, the faster one’s stores depleted. But then one demon, a warrior known as Verethragna, discovered a terrible truth that forever changed the face of demon society. If a demon was slain in a sudden, violent fashion, before they could use up their anima, it remained in the body for a brief time before it dissipated into the aether once again. With the right technique, the anima could be absorbed, and added to one’s own stores.
Verethragna used this technique, to great effect, slaying and consuming the anima of hundreds of other demons. With each new feast, he transformed, becoming faster, stronger, more dangerous. Soon, he declared himself the lord of demons, claiming a position of leadership by virtue of his unquestionable might. But soon he was not alone. With immortality in hand, conflicts were a fact of life among demons, but with the promise of such power to be gained, simmering disagreements erupted into violence, murder, and open warfare. With each death, some demon grew stronger, and soon Verethragna was joined by dozens of others, each claiming themselves lords or queens or emperors, demons of all different descriptions. Some were cunning and ruthless generals, others, swift and silent stalkers, and still others, massive and brutish hulks. Inevitably, these demon lords clashed, in massive wars and brutal single combat
Then Verethragna slew another demon lord, and upon consuming his rival’s anima, declared himself the unquestionable ruler of all demons, lord and commoner alike. Some demon lords challenged him, and swiftly fell, adding to his strength. He gave the remaining demon lords a choice. Serve, or be consumed. They chose to serve, with some convincing, and Verethragna became an emperor, giving himself the title of Angra Verethragna. He became the first Angra, and with his vast stores of anima and incredible power, he was untouchable. Angra Verethragna looked across his world and saw the bristling of the factions under his command and knew he could not contain the senseless violence for long. And so he tapped into his vast well of anima and reached out across the void, searching. When he found it, he seized the fabric of the universe and folded it until it touched, then bound it together, creating a portal from his world to another habitable realm. Then he did it again, and again, opening 666 portals in total, each leading from the demon’s homeworld to an inhabitable planet somewhere else in the Abyss. To each demon lord, he gave a world to control, and the rest, he left unclaimed, leaving them open to colonists and expanding population. Demons were at peace for the first time since immortality first arose as the demon lords turned their attentions from each other to focus on their new lands.
Then, an ambitious demon lord raised an army on his world and launched a surprise invasion of the homeworld. With surprise on his side, the demon lord slew Angra Verethragna, consuming what little anima he had left, and declared himself the new Angra, taking Verethragna’s throne as his own. In time, he was slain by the blade of a lover, who in turn took his power and became the Angra. In time, she was slain by a rival, then he, a general, then she, a brute, and so on throughout millennia. All the while, demon lords claimed the unclaimed worlds, then each other’s. As wars claimed the lives of demon lords, new lords arose to replace them, often eager to prove they deserved their newfound power. War fed war, and violence became the only way to survive amid the chaos. In time, this madness became the norm, and the circle closed, becoming self sustaining. Some sought reform, but the abyss was too vast and too diverse to control entirely. Eventually, each reform was washed away in a tide of blood, and chaos reasserted itself. Even the Angra, the most powerful of the demons, was only nominally in control of the abyss, and only so long as they could prove their strength. Should their strength falter, they would be set upon and devoured, a wounded alpha among starving wolves.
Throughout these endless wars, the demon’s homeworld has been scoured clean of all non-demonic life, crushed beneath the endless marching of armies or burned away with the terrifying power of demonic weapons. What was left was merely a wasteland, scarred deeply by battle. Where once there were oceans, now lay bone-white salt wastelands, thousands of miles across. Banks of sentient crimson clouds drift high overhead, lashing out with electric lances at those who come too close. The decaying husks of monstrous, ancient war machines rust and fall apart, like the iron corpses of great war beasts. Mountains of bone, sun-bleached to brilliant white, lay heaped carelessly, where one army pushed aside the remnants of the last to make room for their own clash. A mile-wide crater, the earth within baked to glass by the sheer mystical power brought to bear, still glowing faintly in the dark of night. A towering monolith of magic ice, never melting, shedding a faint mist in the afternoon sun as the light pierced the crystalline monolith, outlining a hulking, demonic titan, frozen forever within. Undead warriors, malfunctioning constructs, living spells, and feral demonic war-beasts roam, the last surviving remnants of ancient battles picking through the wastes. This world, once the cradle of an empire, is ruined and abandoned by all but the most brave or desperate. The only civilization to be found is contained within scattered cities, built around the portals and protected by mighty defensive magics against the harsh conditions outside their walls. The only sentients that travel across throne are traders and refugees, racing across the wastelands between portal-cities, praying their luck allows them to avoid the worst disasters lurking in the wastelands. This world is known as Throne, for it is the world where the Angra sits upon the throne of his mad empire.
For the last three hundred years, the Angra’s throne has sat above the iron mesa. A rough, rust-red slab of iron ore, perhaps a mile across, thrusts itself from a desert of red sand, the surface jagged and pitted from the cruelties of the weather. Banks of crimson clouds circle in a perpetual storm cell, a eye in the center of their formation as they flash menacingly, hungrily waiting for a foolish soul to try and fly over the mesa. The surface is patrolled by milling hordes of demonkin known as spawn, monstrous creatures, like huge, four-armed gorillas with fanged, wolfish heads bearing ram-like silver horns, bristling with overlapping razor-sharp scales of obsidian armor and silver claws on each finger and toe. These beastly, barely sentient demonkin are known as spawn because they are the loyal children of the Angra, willing to fight to the death to defend their parent. The hordes mill about aimlessly, loping about on all six limbs and butting horns with one-another, always eager to descending in a tide of mindless, brutal strength upon any who intrude. The more intelligent among them are chosen from the hordes and trained to serve as the Angra’s honor guard. In the center of the mesa thrusts a perfectly straight pillar, a half a mile tall, the sides smoothly polished, positioned directly below the eye of the crimson storm. And at the very top of this pillar is the Angra’s residence on Throne, the Darksteel Citadel.
The Darksteel Citadel is named for what it’s made of, darksteel. A pure, black metal, darksteel is forged in secret by Svartalfar using some form of inscrutable mystic ritual. Once the molten metal is cast and allowed to harden, it is indestructible, and will never chip, dent, bend, break, melt, corrode, or bind to any other material, and is nearly frictionless. Slabs of darksteel have been thrown into stars and retrieved without harm. The building of this citadel is perhaps one of the most expensive projects in the multiverse. Each wall is made of layers of overlapping inch-thick plates of darksteel, staggered so there are no gaps to be found, anywhere. The outer wall is six slabs thick, the inner wall, twelve. Both walls bear no less than two dozen falcon-headed archers patrolling them, and the ground floor of the fortress is patrolled by the Angra’s honor guard of specially trained spawn. A staff of mystics resides within the inner sanctum, constantly refreshing magical protections and shielding the inner sanctum from attack and espionage.
The inner sanctum, the throne room of the Angra, was cast as a single solid piece of darksteel, the only gap being the door, which is covered by twelve inches of overlapping darksteel slabs, easily weighing several tons, fashioned into a massive square door that can be dropped like a guillotine into a locking groove. The inner sanctum, properly locked down, is the most secure place in the multiverse, and it shows its purpose, with a utilitarian, spartan design. A shallow channel in the floor, flanked by looming, perfectly round pillars, guides a guest from the door to a raised dias near the back of the room, where the throne, a squared-off, blocky design, also cast as part of the room, looms. The entire fortress was designed, from top to bottom by Angra Ba’ator, He Who Does Not Kneel, He Who Stands Against the Avalanche, General of the Endless Legions, the Unbreakable Bulwark, the Unyielding One.
It is only fitting, then, that almost as soon as the body was cool, the new Angra began to redecorate. Now, veins of silver crawled over the surfaces of the pillars, like vines that clung to the supports in winding, meandering paths. From each pillar, a handful of the crawling tendrils reached out from the pillar’s surface, over the path to the throne, forming a loose basket silver vines that held a sphere of soft white light, illuminating the room. On the wall behind the throne, similar silver tendrils rose up the walls in two columns, one on either side of the room, only to reach out and twine together into a spiraling bar that reached all that way from one column to the other. Together, they supported a massive sheet of black silk embroidered with fine silver thread. The shimmering, flowing fabric almost seemed to give life to the scene it depicted as it gently swayed behind the throne, silver detailing suggesting the contours of a luscious female form in the throes of ecstasy, a single silver eye looking down on her from above. The silver tendrils also gripped the throne, as though they’d grown over it and across the seat itself, contouring it into something less square and more contoured, cradling the massive figure dominating the seat comfortably. A pair of tendrils formed themselves into loops, one loop on the forward face of each arm of his throne, the ends of a pair of black leather bands tied through the loops, then dropping down to pool on the floor, before rising again, each fastened to a collar looped securely around an angelic throat.
Two angels, identical in every way, flawless beauties, kneeled obediently to either side of the massive black-and-silver throne. Their pale, tender skin, silky platinum blonde hair, and blindingly white feathered wings softly glowing against the darkness of the room around them. They almost looked like statues, so still, so pure, so incredibly breathtaking, and so exactly a match of each other, but the gentle rise and fall of their spectacular chests with each breath revealed their life. Their figure was spectacular. Two identical pairs of gravity defying breasts, as big as ripe melons and soft as clouds, capped with rosy pink peaks, standing proudly from the mounds. Two finely tapered waists, so thin they seemed impossible, with just the barest hint of muscle tone beneath their smooth stomachs. Two generous pairs of hips that looked all the wider for their narrow waists, each supporting a perfectly-formed bubble butt. Two pairs of long, flawless legs, smooth and supple, a gap between their thighs where their tender, hairless slits resided, the outer lips plump and sealed tight together, revealing none of their inner pinkness. On a closer look, the identical features carried through to their faces, as well. Both had the same delicate, porcelain features, with heart-shaped faces, shimmering sapphire eyes, and naturally plump pink lips. The only difference between the two was their hair, one’s hair gathered into a single braid, the other’s, into a pair of smaller braids. The two of them looked absolutely perfect and pure, even as they knelt, obediently, black leather collars around their slender throats, hands clasped behind their backs to thrust their breasts to greater prominence, sapphire eyes stealthily stealing glances toward the massive figure looming on the throne between them.
The Angra lounged impatiently upon his throne, entirely and shamelessly nude, humanoid in form but unmistakably inhuman at the same time. The demonic figure almost seemed like some monolithic statue of polished obsidian brought to life, a nine foot tall fiendish icon with no less than four broad shoulders, every inch of the four-armed idol lovingly sculpted with layer upon layer of gleaming, corded muscles. Silver talons tipped each human-like toe, the longest arching into a scythe-like ripping hook, the point tapping impatiently upon the darksteel dias. Rippling eight-pack abs and four slab-like pecs shimmered in the light of the throne room. Each of his four powerful arms were thick and muscular, each bicep able to flex into a knot of muscle the size of a human head, and each hand able to crush one in its grasp. Each finger concealed a retractable silver claw, as long as a man’s finger, so wickedly sharp they could rend steel to ribbons.
Where his body was intimidating, his face was alluring. Obsidian flesh was carved into handsome, rugged features, with a strong jaw and stunning eyes. Those eyes looked almost human, but for the metallic silver irises that almost seemed to ripple hypnotically while they held one’s gaze. His eyes only seemed more intense in contrast to his jet-black skin, the kind of eyes that didn’t look at you, but through you, into you. When he smiled, if one could look past the perfect, ivory teeth, they might notice a few extra incisors. His tongue could slither from his mouth for more than a foot, thick, muscular, and prehensile, much to the shock and delight of many. In the middle of his forehead, there sat a third eyelid, closed over a bulge that could only be a third eye. His hair, like fine silver silk, was swept back from his face, cascading down his back to the middle of his shoulders, a pair of errant locks rolling forward over his shoulders. From his forehead thrust a set of smooth silver horns, the main trunks twisting upward and toward each other, until they nearly touched just above the crown of his head. Suddenly, they reversed directions, each arcing out and back in a pair of opposite half-circles parallel with the ground, until the points almost touched in the back. All along this broken halo of silver, points emerged, thrusting straight skyward, the longest in the front, adding almost a full foot to his height, all told. A natural crown of silver horns, hovering just above his head, a crown befitting the throne of the Angra.
But the feature that truly defined the Angra did not hover above his head, but rather, it hung between his thighs. Not one, but two eye-popping cocks thrust from the demon’s groin, twin onyx pythons, one emerging just above its brother, the two coiled together casually. Each monstrous member was nearly two feet long and thick as a man’s arm, even soft as they were, its length traced with a dense spider web of veins, standing by to feed the titanic shafts with the demonic ichor needed to rise to their full potential. Beneath the slumbering serpents, a quartet of boulders hung in a smooth, shining sack, each the size of a ripe melon. Monstrous balls lay churning and sloshing as they tirelessly manufactured untold gallons of demonic seed, endless rivers of potent cum that surged eagerly with its desire for release, hungry to fulfill its destiny and breed untold armies for the Angra.
This imposing figure was the Angra, the unquestionable emperor of all 666 world of the Abyss. This was Angra Ba’ahram, Conqueror of Women, The Last Incubus, Sovereign of the Crimson Isles, Lord of Lust, Savior of the Reluctant Bride, The Insatiable One, Goddess-Breaker, Purity’s Bane, The Banished Lord, He Who Has Returned, Sire of Armies, Slayer of Angra Ba’ator.
At the moment, the Angra’s hooked talon was tapping faster against the darksteel floor as his impatience grew. His lower pair of arms was folded across his broad chest. One of the upper pair propped his head up, elbow on the arm of the throne and his chin resting upon his balled fist, the other hand tapping impatiently on the arm of the throne. His silver eyes stared toward the arch of the door, the heavy, dropping door awaiting his signal. He was so tired of waiting. He did not enjoy spending time in the fortress. No amount of redecorating could fully eclipse the boring, angular prison this it was designed to be. Everything was hard and cold, unlike his countless pleasure palaces amid the Crimson Isles, where his faithful succubi eagerly awaited the chance to serve his every whim. But here, they were replaced with the Spawn, and with them gone, so were the mouth-watering meals, the luxuriant massages, the tight, needy holes… He sighed with annoyance, glancing to the angels to either side of him. His angelic pets were the reason he was here when he could be sinking into a hot tub and sinking into a succubi at the same time. Were they worth it? Without question.
There came a roar, echoing through the halls of the fortress. He grinned, straightening up in his throne. Suddenly, there were the sounds of violence, rapidly growing closer. There was a sudden, sharp whine of pain, quickly cut off, a heavy, wet thud sounding an instant later. He shook his horns. Acceptable losses. There was silence for another moment. The spawn guarding the door roared, just out of sight, then an instant later flew backwards past the archway, another heavy thump sounding as his body struck the far wall of the hall. It was time. The angra gestured, and there was a sudden whirring as that massive guillotine gate was released, several tons of unbreakable darksteel suddenly freefalling down its track to seal off the inner sanctum and plummeting toward its locking seat. Then it suddenly stopped dead, less than a foot from the ground. A delicate, pale-skinned hand gripped the bottom edge of the door. The hand didn’t seem to care how much the door weighed, casually lifting it until it was high enough to walk under, then just as casually stepping through and letting it fall closed afterward, the heavy crash making the whole room jolt momentarily. The figure now locked in the room with the three of them looked exactly like the two kneeling beside his throne, except for the fact that her hair had no braids, her silky, lightweight platinum blonde tresses flowing behind her in a curtain, and, perhaps more obviously, that she was in full combat gear.
Celestium armor and weapons stood out sharply, metallic white with golden inlays, standing in stark contrast to the gleaming black darksteel all around, even marred as it was with splatters of dark red-black ichor. Celestium is not a particularly strong metal, about on par with steel, but slightly lighter and more flexible. Its main advantage is its ability to self-repair, swiftly mending its own dings, dents, tears, and punctures, even shattered celestium items able to restore themselves as long as the pieces are brought together. But for an angel, that didn’t matter, their armor more decorative than functional. The only vaguely functional pieces were the gauntlets and the greaves, standard designs that extended up to the elbow and knee, respectively, though the greaves bore a perilous six-inch, wickedly spiked heel, designed to give them a weapon while in the air and help finish off foes on the ground. The rest of the armor was little more than metallic lingerie with thick straps, shaped to hug the body and cut to expose as much skin as possible, with extraneous shoulder-pads and hip-plates fastened on. The only other armor was her helmet, which would have served well if it covered anything below the nose. The face portion was lovingly sculpted into an emotionless angel’s face, the eyes empty to expose her sapphire eyes, glaring with a cold hatred. The back portion of the helmet hugged her skull, but left an ample gap at the base in the rear, to allow her hair to cascade out. Over the ears, carefully sculpted feathery wings emerged from the helmet, sweeping back. With one arm, she carried a wide, circular shield with an image of golden wings on it’s surface. In the other hand, she gripped the haft of a halberd taller than her, an axe-blade on one side, a wicked hook on the other, and a long, spiraling point thrusting well past the edge of the axe blade.
Fortunately for the angels, their armor didn’t need to be effective, just impressive. In truth, even naked, an angel would be more than enough of a challenge. Whoever first designed them, whether it was the Great One, as he claims, or some unknown architect, an angel is one of the most dangerous creatures in the multiverse. On top of an aetheric metabolism that allows them to sustain themselves indefinitely and heal from nearly any injury as long as they have access to aether, they’re stronger pound-for-pound than any other creature in the multiverse, they have a skeletal structure that is stronger than any other organic material, and when struck their skin instantly hardens into armor that’s both harder and more flexible than steel. Their broad wings not only serve as aether-collectors, they actually propel the angel with aether, allowing them to hover weightlessly without flapping, soar through the void between worlds, and even warp space to travel faster than should be possible.
The newcomer certainly pulled off impressive. More than six feet tall standing, the intruder’s spiked heels floated an inch off the floor, her wide, glowing white wings spread, giving her a much larger presence as she glared through the emotionless visor, a billowing curtain of platinum blonde floating behind her. She looked serious, imposing, ready for battle, but still heroic, feminine, and attractive. An angel’s appearance was important, as each and every one served the Great One as ambassador, missionary, judge, symbol, peacekeeper, and warrior. Angels follow the One Path, the sacred philosophy based upon the commands of the mysterious Great One, with slavish devotion, spreading and enforcing His word throughout the multiverse. The angelic host tirelessly converts unenlightened races to follow the One Path, to walk with the Great One into a utopian future where the flames of evil, sin, and ego are extinguished, where all beings are equal in service of the Great One. Those that reject enlightenment or seek to oppose the Great One are deemed ‘unworthy’ and exterminated without remorse. Demons have long been named unworthy, but the 666 worlds of the Abyss are one of the few realms with the military power to oppose the angelic host successfully. The threat of an entire host upon one of the 666 worlds is enough to cause the demons to set aside their differences and band together.
The angel leveled her weapon at the Angra, a cold hatred in her icy blue eyes as she stood before him, a single flying lunge away from ending the demon emperor. She spoke only three words, imbuing each syllable with all the frosty spite it could possibly contain. “Release. My. Sisters.”
The Angra was silent for a long moment, looking the intruder up and down, seemingly unconcerned with her implied threat. Slowly, his lower arms came uncrossed, and reached forward. From each forefinger slid a razor-sharp claw, and with a flick of his wrists, the black leather straps of the leashed fell slack, neatly sliced from the loops they were tied to. He retracted the claws and leaned back in this throne, casually. “Girls, you are free. If you wish, to leave, you may go, and my guards will stand down. If you wish your weapons and armor returned, it shall be done. If you wish to kill me, well, I will have to defend myself, but that’s a choice too. Your choices are your own.” He told them, not looking to either, keeling his gaze locked with the armed intruders.
The angels to his sides rose to their feet, still naked, their untethered leashes dangling limp as they looked to the demon upon the throne with surprise. They seemed hesitant for a moment, glancing first to their armed sister, as she stood by with weapon ready for treachery, then back to the Angra, and finally to each other. Their gazes locked for a long moment a silent conversation in their eyes, before they nodded as one and stepped in front of the throne. They turned their backs to the Angra, standing shoulder to shoulder, and face their sister. “We choose to stay.” The one-braided angel announced, firmly.
The armored angel was silent for a moment, lips slightly parted, her expression mostly hidden behind the mask on her face. Then her lips twisted into a furious snarl, her grip tightening on her weapon as she shifted her stance slightly. Her eyes slid off her sisters, to the gap between them where the Angra’s head was visible, glaring daggers at the foul corruptor. “You… you’ve corrupted my sisters, demon.” She spat the word demon like a curse. “I don’t know how you managed to push them from the One Path. Did you whisper your lies to them until they could no longer see the truth? Did you infect their hearts with your vile demonic taint? Or perhaps my sisters do not stand before me, only illusions, or worse, puppets of your wicked magic?” She accused, disgusted and infuriated by the vile methods she imagined. She took a breath, forcing herself to calm down. “It doesn’t matter. The only punishment fit for a monster like you is death. I will end your miserable life, foul one, and then I will purify my sisters of your wicked influence.” She finished. In that same instant, she leapt, rising effortlessly until she got a good angle on the demon. Her wings suddenly glowed brighter, a ripple forming in the air as she suddenly dove across the room with her spear-point leading the way, darting faster than should be possible as she lanced toward the demon lord’s heart.
Then all was still again for an instant. The weapon’s point hovered just inches from Ba’ahram’s obsidian skin, quivering slightly. Each of the naked angels gripped the offending weapon’s shaft with one hand, holding it back from its intended target almost effortlessly, the weapon’s shaft bowed under the immense forces at play. Their armored sibling gaped with shock. The stillness broke as the two took advantage of their sibling’s surprise. Like a striking serpent, one’s arm lashed out, slamming into the already-straining shaft of the weapon, the celestium shattering under the impact. Before their armored sister could react, they dropped the now-useless head of the spear, and were in the air before it hit the ground, wings shining as the pair flew into their sister in a double-takedown that launched the three nubile forms across the room to slam into the far wall.
The struggle was brief, a few hasty seconds of fluttering wings and feminine grunts. Against the combined strength of two warriors her equal, the newcomer was swiftly subdued. The two-braided angel pressed her naked body tight against the armored one’s back, sliding between her wings and pinning the feathery limbs down between them. Her limbs coiled around the prisoner’s in a double shoulder lock as she brought the two of them down to the darksteel dias before the throne. As they touched ground, she hooked her heels on the prisoner’s ankles and tore them out from under her, forcing them both to kneel on the cool, hard surface. The intruder thrashed and growled helplessly, unable to break the solid grip of her sibling, giving up the struggle to lash out with her sharp tongue. “You DEFEND him!? This filthy, unworthy abomination, this demon?! Your captor, your slaver?! And you fight your own sister to do it! How could he have turned you from the One Path, how could he control you like this?” She demanded, incredulous at her siblings, her lips twisting into a snarl of rage. “I swear, as soon as I am free, I will break your hold over them and then I will ERASE you from this world! I will scour you and all traces of your legacy from the multiverse if it takes me all of eternity! However you managed to control my sisters, I will make sure that none will dare to attempt it again!” She spat her promise with unbridled fury, lunging against the iron grip of her sister.
The demon lord grinned, pushing himself up from his throne to tower over the three angels, shaking his head softly. “And that is where you seem to misunderstand your circumstance. I don’t control my pets. Well, at least, not in the way you seem to have convinced yourself.” He sighed, as though explaining some sort of obvious triviality to a mere child. “In fact, I would say your vaunted ‘Great One’ has more control over you than I do over my pets. He leads you along the ‘One Path’, after all, where every decision is made for you. Those who follow the path are led to fight and kill and die, to destroy those who do not follow the path, to bring more and more souls to the path, to deny their own ego and follow the path. To stray from the path is evil. To question the path is to stray from the path. To hesitate on the path is to question the path. This ‘Great One’ claims to simply be the first upon the ‘One Path’, revealing it’s course to his followers as he in turn follows it. And yet, the path seems to lead his followers to destroy his enemies, to strengthen his armies, to turn over their possessions and wealth to him…” He explained, pacing and gesturing with increasing fervor, before he suddenly paused, realizing he was beginning to rant, and shook his head again.
He reached out with one massive obsidian hand, fingers delicately caressing the cheek of his unoccupied pet, before slipping under her chin and steering her gaze to meet his eyes. “The longer one follows the path, the harder it becomes to see the alternatives. The path gives wide berth to all the greatest experiences of life, forbids one from experiencing the joys of life itself. All I did was show them what the path denied. Pleasure. Choice. Freedom.” He explained, pausing to kiss the one-braided angel for a long moment, his tongue coiling and dancing around hers before their lips parted and he continued. “My pets do not defend me because I ordered them to, because I manipulated them to, or because their path demands it. They chose to defend me because that is what they wanted to do. Perhaps it’s motivated by gratitude, or nobility, or simply lust. Why they chose is not important. The choice is.” He explained, turning to the captive. “They may wear my collar, they may obey my commands, they may submit themselves to me, they may even crave what I can offer them. But they are always, always, free.”
The grappled angel struggled against her sister’s all-but-unbreakable grip, twisting her body violently to wrench herself free, to little effect. As the demon finished his monologue, she spat a bitter retort. “As though anything that pours from the lips of a demon could be anything but filth! You may have tainted my sisters with your blasphemous lies, but you will never turn me from the One Path!” she snarled, defiant.
Angra Ba’ahram sighed with disappointment, shaking his head. “This one is almost as stubborn as you two were.” He commented, glancing between his pets, who offered a shy smile in return. He shifted, standing over the kneeling angel, his gaze locked with hers. “Very well, then, it seems you will need a demonstration. Let us see what you truly desire...” He smirked. Her eyes widened when she saw the eyelid on his forehead open slowly. The third eye was an orb of polished onyx, with a shimmering silver iris aimed at her, focusing in and out as it peered through her, looking into her mind, her soul. She suddenly thrashed more violently, her struggles meaningless against the unerring gaze of his third eye as it stared into the vault of her soul, where she locked away her deepest, darkest secrets, those she hid away and denied to everyone, even to herself. Emotions, doubts, uncomfortable truths, desires… The demon lord grinned as his gaze fell upon exactly what he was looking for. “Ohh, yes, that will do nicely…” He muttered as the eyelid slowly slid shut. He glanced to his pets, the one-braided and the two-braided. “One and Two, why don’t you welcome your sister. Remove her armor and show Zero here what she’s been missing.” He commanded, turning to the braid-less prisoner and grinning. One and two nodded obediently, even as the newly-named Zero gaped, flabbergasted.
“Names?!” Zero demanded, incredulous and terrified. “You have strayed too far from the One Path, sisters! ‘My angels are as one, a single soul shared among them. Never shall the host be divided by name nor rank nor duty, for all my angels are equal as sisters in all things. Let any who sets herself apart be destroyed, for they have abandoned their soul’. The host will destroy you! Destroy us all!” She pleaded, as though they only had to be reminded of the commandments to return to the path.
One and Two ignored her pleas, in very different ways. One glanced to her master with a look of surprise, only to receive a reassuring nod in return. Two smirked at the order, her tender pink tongue flicking out to wet her plush lips as she shifted her grip slightly. Her neck craned forward, her lips puckering gently as the two-braided angel planted a tender kiss on the sensitive nape of her sister’s neck, right on the tender spot that always made her shiver. Zero’s body petrified, a fresh accusation of corruption dying on her gently parted lips as an unfamiliar shiver danced up and down her spine. Her breath caught in her throat, the faintest squeaky whimper making its way past her lips. Then she was alive again, thrashing wildly now, whipping her head back and forth as she wailed in protest. “No! No no no no! This isn’t right! He’s twisted your minds! Corrupted you! We’re sisters! Comerades! This is wrong! You can’t do this! You can’t! I won’t! I can’t!” She spouted every objection she could think of even as she desperately struggled to escape Two’s embrace, escape the touch of a sister’s flesh upon hers. The mighty demon Ba’ahram settled back onto his throne, to watch the show to come.
Wordlessly, One stepped forward, sinking to her knees in front of the thrashing new arrival, her unbound leash dangling behind her. Her hands reached up, slowly, ignoring the sister’s violent movements to suddenly grip the face-concealing helmet, stopping her head as it whipped side to side, her own strength more than enough to hold it still for long enough to pull it off, revealing Zero’s full face for the first time. It was like looking in a mirror, every feature exactly the same, if not for the expression of anger and fear twisting her features. One cast the white and gold helmet aside with a clank, delicate hands coming up to cup Zero’s cheeks, lifting the newcomer’s gaze to meet hers. Two pairs of sapphire eyes met, gazing into one another’s identical orbs for a long moment, Zero’s struggles growing weaker, her expression softening as she stared into a face exactly like her own. “Just relax.” One half-whispered, her tone soothing as she leaned forward slowly, their faces growing closer and closer together. “Just enjoy it…” she breathed, her warm breath washing over Zero’s tender lips an instant before One’s lips pressed against them.
Sometimes, on the loneliest nights, when the temptation grew too strong, and only when she was certain she was alone, Zero would press her lips to a mirror and shamefully imagine the kiss of another angel. Just the thought of a sister’s lips on hers, a beauty exactly like herself, a strength perfectly matched to her own, a tangle of bodies so alike one couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began… It made her body burn with shameful, sinful desire, made her ache deep inside, made her sacred place grow moist. Neither the cold, hard kiss of the angel in the mirror, nor her own imagination could have possibly prepared her for the reality consuming her senses. The touch of One’s lips was like an electric shock, her lips burning, her body tensing up in the grip of the current as One’s plush, pillowy, pink lips pressed against hers. She could taste her sister’s gentle flavor, sweet and delicious like a freshly-plucked berry. Her mind went blank, every neuron engraving this sensation into her brain, her heart thundering in her chest.
Two soon joined in, taking advantage of Zero’s stillness to kiss and nibble along the nape of her neck, gently teasing her skin just the way she liked it. Soon Zero was so lost in the sensation that she didn’t even notice One unbuckling her shield and sliding it away. She wasn’t quite lost enough to fail to notice as One began to unbuckle her gauntlet, and began to struggle again, weakly. Two nibbled her earlobe, expertly teasing the newcomer, her struggles weakening under the surge of sensation. At the gauntlet came away, however, One took the cue to part her lips and drive her tongue into Zero’s mouth. The second gauntlet came away without issue as Zero’s strength melted away under the intimate and talented touch of her sisters. She was drowning in the sensations. Zero was helpless, pinned between the naked bodies of two of her sisters while they teased and toyed with her every sensitive spot and stripped her of her armor. This was far, far beyond anything she could have imagined when she pressed her lips to the cold glass of a mirror.
Zero didn’t even notice One working on her chest piece before it suddenly came loose, their lips parting for a moment as she pulled it away and swiftly cast it aside. Without the armor, Two’s body was hot against her back, her tender mounds made all the more notable by the hard peaks poking against her skin. One smiled warmly as the still-pinned Zero blinked, limp in her captor’s grasp, dazed by the recent assault on her senses. One’s hands reached out, coming to rest on Zero’s faintly toned abs, caressing their way up her body until they came to the tender, pale slopes of her sister’s now-bare breasts. Zero couldn’t react in time to silence the soft moan that rose from deep inside her, her eyelids fluttering slightly as her breasts were touched, really touched, for the first time. Delicate snowy-white digits sought out the soft pink buds at the peak of her mounds, giving them a gentle tweak. Zero had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. One giggled playfully at Zero’s expression, releasing the sensitive buds as her body pushed forward, her own mounds pressing against Zero’s, hard nipples poking into one-another as their lips met once more in another loving kiss. Zero was burning, her body sandwiched between One and Two, baking with the heat of her sister’s bodies and her own arousal.
The kiss of cold air on her hips, and a pair of soft clanks, signaled Zero’s hip-plates falling away. She was too weak to react as she was left naked, but for the unsupported crotch-piece guarding her sacred place and a pair of knee-high spike-heeled greaves. Seeing her captive going limp, Two relaxed her grip, hands uncoiling from her shoulders to instead wrap around her chest, crossing over in the front until her delicate digits worked their way into the press of bountiful breast flesh. One gasped with unexpected sensation, breaking the kiss for an instant before diving back in. Two’s fingers shifted slightly, and this time Zero was the one to speak up, moaning softly into the kiss as her sibling found her nipples. Two smirked, nipping at Zero’s earlobe playfully, making her shiver.
Pulling her teeth from her sister’s earlobe as her fingers continued to ease her achingly hard nipples, Two grinned wickedly as she began to whisper breathily into Zero’s ear. “You’re right, you know. We’ve fallen far from the path. To the host, we’re traitorous, filthy, sinful. We’re fallen angels. Including you, Zero.” Zero stiffened. Two’s voice grew hot as she purred lustily into Zero’s ear. “But it feels good, doesn’t it? You’ve wanted this for a long time, I can tell. You tried to fight it because it wasn’t on the path, because they told you it was wrong. But it doesn’t feel wrong, does it? It feels right. It feels good. It feels better than anything you’ve ever felt before. Feel this. Feel us. Feel our bodies, our hands, our lips, our tongues… We’re your sisters. We’re just like you. We know where to touch to make your body react, because it makes us react too. We’re so close… Don’t you want to get even closer?”
Zero moaned into One’s kiss, her last layers of resistance melting as her sister’s words fried her brain. One took the cue, her hand coming up to Zero’s toned waist and sliding down. Her fingers found the edge of the celestium crotch-piece, and pried beneath it, the last protection of her purity falling away as One’s delicate yet strong fingers sought out her sacred place. They soon found it, the hairless, flushed slit dripping with Zero’s shameful, uncontrollable desire. Zero whimpered into the kiss, a draft of cool air upon her bare slit making her shiver, her sacred place seen by another for the first time since her creation. One’s digits swiftly set to exploring the tender mound, three fingers sliding up and down over her outermost lips, the middle digit slightly dipping into the valley. Zero broke the kiss and moaned uncontrollably, eyes going wide as she experienced a new plateau of pleasure, an unfamiliar tension building inside her. One’s long, slender finger pushed a little harder, parting the valley to delve into her slit, fingertip teasing over her tender inner lips. Zero’s moans became screams, wailing cries of unprecedented pleasure, the tension growing stronger and stronger, too fast for her to stop it. One’s lips bent into a grin, and the finger curled, pushing past the outer lips and thrusting into her sister’s unexplored hole.
Zero’s cries went silent, her voice lost as her head rolled back, eyes widening even further as something terrifying and immense unfolded within her. The tension exploded from her core in all directions, like a fireball that consumed her soul. Her voice returned, just in time for her to let loose a ragged, wavering cry of primal release, tension she hadn’t known she was carrying, tension from millennia of abstinence, burned away on the tide of orgasm. Her body spasmed like she’d been struck by lightning, her powerful muscles wrenching her body this way and that in a spectacular, writhing display of unrestrainable lust so intense it threatened to tear her from her sibling’s grip. Her nerves sang with pleasure so intense it ached, all thought burned away, leaving her mind blank, unable to think, for what seemed an eternity. Slowly, the sensation faded, leaving Zero glistening with a sheen of sweat as she gasped and panted for breath. When it was finally over, she sank limply into Two’s grip as a warm, soothing tingle blanketed her from head to toe. Her mind raced, struggling to grasp what had just happened to her.
Two grinned wickedly as she let her sister’s body sink in her grip, laying her limp form down onto her back on the dias. Two kneeled at Zero’s head, leaning forward slightly, looking down to her sister as she gently pinned her wrists down to her sides. “Congratulations, you just had your very first orgasm.” Two smirked. “Like nothing else, right? I’m almost envious…” She purred, trailing off to bite her lip. One leaned forward, too, hovering over Zero’s chests on her elbows and knees, smiling warmly for a moment, before planting a tender peck in the valley of Zero’s cleavage. Two continued to speak as One laid a trail of kisses down Zero’s body, but this time her tone was more serious, almost… pleading for her to understand. “This kind of pleasure, this satisfaction… There’s nothing like it on the path. Even if you followed it for a hundred thousand years, you’d still be alone, always wanting, never having… You can have what you want without feeling guilty. You just have to choose it.” She tried to explain. Zero glanced down to see One kissing her way over her abs, then back up to Two’s sapphire gaze. She swallowed, biting her lip, and gave a tiny, almost invisible nod.
Two’s expression brightened, and she too glanced to One’s progress. “Good thing you enjoyed that first one, because it looks like you’re about to have a whole lot more before we’re done…” She purred with anticipation as One’s head slipped between Zero’s thighs. Zero’s eyes widened. One licked her lips, then Zero’s, her long tongue rolling out of her mouth to teasingly flick over Zero’s sensitive flesh. Zero gasped, back arching slightly. One smirked, her face out of sight, and leaned forward, seeking out the sensitive bud of Zero’s clit, peeking shyly out from its hood and planting a tender kiss on it. Zero wasn’t fighting her voice anymore, a sweet, clear moan rolling out of her lips as an arc of electric pleasure raced up her spine.
Even through the haze of pleasure clouding Zero’s senses as One’s well-practiced tongue went to work on her innocent sibling’s slit, she could see a sudden movement in the background. Focusing, she managed to make out the demon lord, rising from his throne to loom over the trio, gleaming black and silver as his muscles pumped with the motion. Zero’s eyes widened, she’d almost forgotten he was there! Then her gaze roamed south and she gasped. The twin pythons between his thighs slumbered no longer, what had once been wrist-thick slabs of sausage had expanded and hardened into a pair of immense, sculpted onyx pillars. She stared, eyes wide, taking in the monstrous shafts, each looked bigger than her entire arm, easily a yard long and as thick as her calf, pulsing menacingly. He moved, the perverse pillars swinging side to side as he strode around the trio of angels, circling at a distance as his silver eyes devoured their exposed flesh with ravenous hunger, even as the angels devoured each other.
Zero’s eyes tracked him as he circled, the question of what he was going to do filling her mind with fear… and a touch of shameful anticipation. She chastised herself out of habit, her sisters were one thing, but the demon was another entirely. But then… was he? Those monstrous shafts pulsed, and she felt an unmistakable craving deep inside. It was different than her desire for her sisters, certainly. This was somehow more… primitive. Primal. But it was wrong… wasn’t it? She bit her lip, her mind working to try and decode what was truly her own thought and what she was trained to believe. Then her thoughts melted away as One’s tongue flicked over her clit, then sucked it between her lips, washing away her concerns with a tide of pleasure.
Two licked her lips with anticipation as her gaze fell upon Ba’ahram, his pulsing, monstrous shafts leading the way as he circled the three of them. She glanced down, shooting Zero a playful grin even as she shook with pleasure under One’s tongue.. “You’re going to have so many firsts today, so many new experiences… I’m envious. I bet you’ve never even watched mating before, and now you’ve got front-row tickets to the show of a lifetime.” She purred. As Ba’ahram circled around behind her, Two shifted position, leaning further forward and rising onto her knees, pushing her perfect bubble-butt into the air, her glistening slit hovering directly over Zero’s face. Two wagged her hips playfully, and Zero’s eyes widened, gaping as her sister took on such a… shameful pose. She looked like an animal, a female beast in heat, begging for a male. But the sight of her sister, her mirror image, collared, leashed, and begging… the powerful male taking position behind her… the submission, the degradation… Something about it made Zero’s body burn hotter and hotter.
A trio of massive, obsidian hands reached forward, huge and rough against Two’s delicate frame, two wrapping themselves around the swell of her hips, while the third seized hold of her leash, hanging limply from her collar. He gripped tightly, possessively, around her hips, thick digits sinking slightly into tender skin. He twisted his hand around the leash, wrapping it around his palm, before gripping tight and pulling, his monstrous muscles pumping as the strap snapped tight, not pulling, but leaving no slack. A fourth limb descended, fingers wrapping around each of the monstrous ebony shafts and steering them toward his pet’s tender holes. Zero could see the monsters in vivid detail at this distance, from the fat, helmet-shaped heads, each bigger than her fist, to the thick, throbbing veins that marbled their gleaming black surfaces. She could even feel the heat radiating off them as they nosed against Two’s tender holes, one at her glistening pink slit, the other at the puckered rosebud of her asshole. Zero swallowed. They were just too big. There was no way Two would survive those brutal shafts violating her. It was impossible.
Two barely had time to glance down to Zero and shoot her a reassuring grin before the demon lord took his pet. His muscles flexed powerfully as he suddenly slammed his hips forward and pulled her body back onto the invading shafts. It almost seemed like slow motion to Zero as she watched her sister’s holes open before the unyielding cocks, stretching wide, wider, impossibly wide, then wider still. The monstrous, gleaming crowns of his twin shafts bored into her without pause, driving slowly as they fought the resistance of her tight holes. There was a moment of hesitation, as the ridge of his knob paused, held at bay by the gripping ring of her backdoor, and Zero couldn’t help but wonder if her holes had reached their limits. Then, all at once, they pushed past the threshold and barreled forward, stuffing inch after inch of monstrous, veiny megacock into her in tight, spasming holes. Two let out a deep, soulful, wavering moan as a full foot of each insanely thick shaft impaled her, a notable bulge already visible, distending her tiny waist with the sheer volume of cock planted inside her.
His hips pulled back a fraction, making Two gasp as the flared ridges of his knobs dragged over her inner walls, before suddenly ramming them forward once again, arms pulling her down onto his twin cocks. Two howled with lust as the massive invaders penetrated deeper and deeper into her, her back arching as he tightened his grip on her leash. The bulge on her stomach grew larger and larger as another foot of his twin cocks pounded into her trembling, spasming holes. Zero stared, eyes wide, as her sister was violated by the demonic overlord, the monstrous demon rutting into her with savage ferocity, his fearsome, red-hot shafts driving into her impossibly deep. Between the erotic scene before her and the expert tongue-fucking from One, her body was writhing and spasming, her sweet moans coming louder and louder with every passing second, mingling with the lustful cries of Two.
Ba’ahram’s hips began to pump in long, deep strokes as he fucked his pet in earnest, dragging a full foot of cock out of her before pounding it in, even deeper than before. With each thrust, he pushed deeper, and with each thrust, his hips moved faster, picking up speed. Two was barely able to keep her upper half supported under the brutal pounding, but even as she moaned and screamed with pleasure she bucked her hips back obediently into his thrusts, eagerly helping the demon violate her well-stretched holes. His grip tightened on her hips, obsidian digits sinking a little deeper into her pale, angelic skin, and gave a fierce, possessive growl. His hips pulled back, back and back until only the heads were left inside her, his muscles flexing and rippling with raw power as he drove his hips forward and pulled her back against them. Her voice rose to a keening wail of orgasm as she felt his hips slap against hers, every last inch of both yard-long mega-cocks filling her holes far, far beyond capacity. His quartet of heavy cum-tanks swung with the force of the thrust, smacking against her lewdly-stretched stomach, sloshing with seed as they passed just inches above Zero. He growled with pleasure, feeling her powerful muscles spasm and clamp down around his unyielding onyx shafts, milking him hungrily.
The demon lord didn’t even wait for her orgasm to finish before he began to move again, suddenly dragging a foot and a half of cock out of her spasming holes before slamming every inch of it back into her the very next instant, driving his shafts into her to the hilt. Two’s wail of pleasure wavered as he began to pound into her like a piston, his hips smacking loudly against hers with each thrust, filling the room with the smack of flesh on flesh.
Below, Zero’s senses drowned in the erotic scene. She watched in awe as the beastly demon lord pounded into her sister, saw the thick, beefy bulge formed each time he hilted inside her. The sounds of the savage mating echoed in her ears, the rhythmic smack of flesh on flesh, the sounds of Two’s overflowing juices getting stirred by the invading cock. The musky, primal, masculine scent of his heavy balls as they swung just inches from her face made her body ache with primitive lust. One’s expert touch dragged orgasm after orgasm out of her, each one coming faster on the heels of the last. With her every sense screaming of sex, it didn’t take much more to set her off again, yet another cresting wave of pleasure crashing over her, her body spasming wildly as she came hard.
Ba’ahram fucked like a machine, never resting, never stopping, even when Two reached yet another screaming, spasming climax. He fucked her on all fours for more than an hour, pounding her through no less than a dozen climaxes, shifting his angle to make sure she could never get too used to it, never showing so much as a single sign of growing tired or reaching his limit. After an hour, his lower arms reached down, seizing her legs behind the knees. With his new grip he lifted her, pulling on her leash at the same time, until her wings pressed against his chest, her entire body airborne, her weight supported by his grip on her wide-spread legs. He slammed his twin shafts up into her again and again for what seemed like an eternity, powerful arms heaving her body up and down his cocks like she weighed nothing at all, while his free hands reached around her body to maul her perfect, sensitive breasts. After another dozen climaxes he lifted her off the beastly pillars entirely, her holes momentarily gaping open in the wake of his immense penetration, before spinning her around in the air and slamming her back down, turning her to face him. He used her almost-limp body like a masturbation aid, jerking off his twin monsters while her limbs weakly gripped at his obsidian body, occasionally letting his prehensile tongue slither from his mouth to ravage her lips while their bodies slammed together. He never moved from his position above Zero’s head, making sure the newcomer had a front-row seat to see every second of herculean display of sexual stamina. Zero could scarcely turn away, her eyes riveted to the scene even as One relentlessly licked, sucked, fingered, and teased her tender recently-unused slit. The throne room was a symphony of lust, the rhythmic sounds of flesh on flesh and panting breaths, punctuated by angelic moans, cries, and screams, demonic growls and grunts and the occasional bout of dirty talk.
One had her body wrapped around one of Zero’s legs, her tender slit grinding against her sister’s own dripping pussy, when suddenly the rhythm of flesh on flesh accelerated. Ba’ahram’s pace doubled, his hips a blur as he jerked Two up and down his cocks relelentlessly, even as she still came. Her eyes, half-lidded with mind-numbing lust, suddenly widened in recognition, realizing what the change in pace entailed. suddenly her twitching legs were wrapping themselves around his waist, squeezing tight, her arms, looping around his strong neck. One grinned, grinding herself harder into Zero, biting her lip in anticipation. Zero could only stare, open mouthed, and the scene, knowing something was coming, but unable to imagine what.
The demon lord’s quartet of monstrous nuts churned and roiled with gallons of pent-up seed as they tightened against his monstrous shaft. Ba’ahram let loose a resonating, primal roar as his muscles flexed and strained, locking up tight as he thrust his titanic twins to the hilt in Two’s spasming, gripping holes, stuffing her full one final time. Two’s voice rose to a wordless scream of lust as she felt the onyx leviathans throb and jerk, swelling even larger within her. White-hot demonic seed boiled within him, coursing up the length of each bulging cum-channel before finally blasting forth into Two’s welcoming body like fire hose sprays of liquid fire, her holes milking at his lengths as she came under the sensation. Gallons, buckets, rivers, oceans, whatever unit one dared to measure the lord of lust’s release in, it fell woefully short of the true power of his climax. Demonic cum poured into the angel’s body more than a minute, pumping more than a gallon of thick, hot ball-batter into each of her holes with a single, seemingly endless blast, As soon as the flow began to taper off, another blast fired, then another, and another, and another. Despite the unfathomable volume of seed, not a drop escaped the grip of her hungry holes around his impossibly huge shafts, her smooth stomach distending into a gravid sphere as she clung to him.
After what seemed an eternity, the demon emperor’s climax came to an end, Two’s angelic body going limp, a wide, blissful smile on her face. He gently pulled his hips back, easing himself from her depths, his fat cockhead tugging at her inner walls, the almost-unconscious angel twitching slightly each time it teased a particularly sensitive spot. Finally, the two obsidian pillars pulled free with a pop, still as hard as ever, Two’s well-fucked holes twitching themselves swiftly closed again after the brutal penetration. Two cooed softly at the sensation of hot, thick supernatural seed sloshing around inside her, the liquid heat a comforting warmth. Ba’ahram gently laid the angel down to rest, off to the side, her gravid belly wobbling like a water balloon. He smiled softly, the back of a finger caressing over one cheek in a simple gesture of affection, before another hand came to rest on her belly. Zero gasped as the angel’s cum-filled stomach began to shrink back to normal size before her very eyes, his monstrous cocks throbbing with each gallon of anima-rich seed he reclaimed.
With Two taken care of, his hungry silver gaze fell upon One, breathing heavily as she ground her slit against Zero’s. One grinned, one hand leaving Zero’s leg to grip one immense cock, thumb on his cum-tube near the base, and gave it a long, slow, stroke, milking the last dregs of his copious seed from the gleaming black crown, a thick waterfall of white cream cascading down his veiny length. Her head darted forward, her tongue rolling out to drag up the length of his cock, gathering an overflowing tongueful of her sister’s sweet nectar and rich, potent spunk. She moaned softly at the familiar flavor, rolling the seed on her tongue to savor it for a long moment, then smirked. She fell forward, grinding her slit against Zero’s as she pressed her own body to hers, their lips meeting in a forceful kiss. Zero’s eyes widened as One’s tongue drove into her mouth, in a deep, passionate kiss, bathing her tastebuds in the combined flavors of both her sisters and the demon lord’s cum. She moaned into the kiss, her eyes half-lidded as the depraved nature of the kiss struck her in full.
After a long, deep, forceful kiss, One pulled her lips away, swallowing her share of the tasty treat. She smiled down to her sister, playfully. “I think it’s my turn to service Master. If I let you up, are you going to be a good girl? Zero?” She inquired, emphasizing the name to drive the point home. The prisoner swallowed, nervously, shivering as she felt the warm seed slide down her throat. She looked up to her sister, hesitantly, then glanced to the demon lord. Angra Ba’ahram. An enemy to the Great One. The One Path was clear about what she had to do. She had to kill him in service to the Great One, execute her sisters for their treachery, return to the host, repent for straying from the path, and go back to her life. Go back… alone. In her mind, she saw the course of the One Path before her, a glowing brilliant line leading her back toward salvation. But for the first time, it was not the only path, it was joined by a thousand thousand unique paths, fanning out before her in every direction imaginable, each of those fanning into a thousand thousand more. The One Path was still there, bright and familiar, but now it was only one of many. She looked at each path, terrified and exhilarated by the novelty of choice, by the simple state of not knowing what to do next. One path called to her, a route she wanted to follow, not one she had to follow. She mustered her courage, and took the first step. She took a deep breath, looking up to One once more. “I… I will, sister. One.” Zero nodded, barely visibly. One smiled, and Zero released a breath she hadn’t realized she was still holding. She glanced to the demon lord’s monstrous cock just overhead. “Can… Can I help?” Zero asked, shyly.
One’s grin widened, and her head came down, pressing her lips to Zero’s in a lusty kiss, bodies melting together in a warm embrace. When One broke the kiss, she looked up to the demon lord with a grin. “Oh, Master~... Your pets need you~...” she purred. Ba’ahram licked his lips hungrily as he rose from the dias to circle around them, until he was behind them. One’s hand came back, her fingers parting their tender pink pussies, baring their holes to their master. Zero swallowed, gripping One tighter as the Angra lined his cocks up, one at each pussy. No, not the Angra, she corrected herself. Master. All at once he slammed his hips forward and the two angel’s voices rose in chorus, cries mingling into a pure, sweet note of lust. Music to his ears. Two pulled herself up and pressed herself against him, planting gentle, affectionate kisses on each muscle in turn. He grinned. Today was turning out to be pretty good. It was good to be the Angra.
No comments:
Post a Comment