Demon Queen of the Deep Ways

Chapter 65: Chapter 66: Maroj and Kairliina get railed by eldritch horrors


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Softly-boiling water courses around my ankles. The fact that it's liquid means that it's vastly too cool to harm me. Yet I do want it to scald, so it does. The glistening black iron beneath, mirror-polished and faintly purplish, glistens in pink rays soft as nightlights.

The catacombs and turbine halls beneath the ADS are a shadow-realm of half-seen silhouettes slipping around hard architecture. Walls, slopes, waterfalls descend metallic terraces and blue-diamond spillways through grey concrete and engraved obsidian panels overrun by pulsating, infesting creepers. Few dividing walls mean that only the size of the chambers limits line of sight. Sometimes, as now, the zigzag views between opposing corners are as open and majestic as an underground, artificial valley.

Kairliina's labyrinth. It bears the Vulshiir name given it by its mistress, Maichidiin Vshiirldu. Its full and delectably-ornate title is "Manifold Labyrinth of the Forbidden End in Flesh." It's better than a hundred pleasure-palaces.

Quivers ripple from my searing paw-pads up my haunches, making every silken fur stand on end. The sweet layering of self-gifted agony and the ecstasy it gives me to drink so much blissful raw HEAT... oh, it's good to be a succubus of Machrae Diir!

Kairliina squirms, back arching, against a column simmering with the heat of a melting furnace. Her tongue lolls out--this time as a bright blue, three-pronged fork of salivating flesh. The pseudopods of black, opalescent gel in her manifest head push her many-way maw open. Her big, pale, blue-flushing breasts jiggle with every amorous shudder.

Sweet sapience-defacing pain... I rub myself through my gown. Grinding wetly, needily, against my finger-pads. It’s such an aching delight to feel the white fabric's kiss outside my folds, brushing over my clit. I'm naked under the gown, of course.

"Good," I groan, "feeling ready..."

And my psyche finishes the phase-shift. I'm moaning, dripping, quaking with lust. Heat, heat, I'm in heat, need to mate, need--need…

"Kai!" Stupid words, stupid needing-to-know-things-to-know-things. "Where..." I break off to whimper, rubbing faster. "Where do we go to--"

I make splashing steps into the nice boiling good-hurting water. Lust-drunk slutty giggling at the sight of my sex-juices spilling down into the current--I hope someone downstream takes a drink and gets a little Maj-love!~--until I turn to see Kairliina pinned tighter against the column by... something? I'm not sure what.

But there are two.

Hulking, undulating, full of wet dripping sounds from their dark ever-morphing bodies. An eyeless domed-top jaw of glittering black fangs. It forms, drooling, at the front of the one approaching me. It oozes closer by turning patches of air and floor into more of itself.

"Uh, M-maj!" Kai calls, briefly remembering that she's supposed to be guiding this. "Anything you want to--GLRK--" The thing pinning--her thing?--tightens its grip and shoves squelching lengths down her throat. Not all of itself. Not changing or assimilating her.

Good. I don't want to become one of, become one with these things. I want to mate with them. I want the bestial joy of being bred by things even more monstrous than me. I want the joy of disposability, used for spawning, then left behind.

Then my thing grow-lunges at me. A big, smothering heap of half-flesh that burns so beautifully on every stretch of my skin it covers. I'm driven down, pressed tight against dry scorching floor with my paws still soaking in the boiling waters, my hands pinned down.

My eyes widen, full of drippy lust and need and tingly sharp fear that makes every sense keener. Should I let it overpower me like this?  Should I show my strength, should I... should I… But I don't want to care about any of that.

A hazy shred of knowing makes it all make sense: For a succubus so used to violence, it takes an effort of will to submit.

The rest comes so easily now. Tail-lashes, desperate groans and little cooing sounds. Names and words fall away, leaving raw essence. True things. Primal things. Abyssal things, like the stirring I feel at the sounds of sex. I strain up, fingers clasping at the air, pushing myself further into the pleasure-pain burning of the thing holding me down.

Blue-horned sister already moans. I want that, I want the fleshy sounds and the wet thrusting fullness she's having. I want a long bulge like that making my belly swell, I want those happy trickles squeezing out around the thick, hot, womb-kissing thing between my legs. My mate's maw opens wide, twists sideways, clamps down until its fangs vise my head. Yes yes yes, like this, take me like this!

Can still see between the teeth, still see a little of my belly rising with breaths I take because they feel fun, because they make me feel more. Can see the sudden snap-out, the shaking, slime-roped extension of something big and hard. Shining with ooze, such a big bulbous tip and a swaying mass of balls slung under it.

I'm so aching, so wet, so in need I cum a little just from its brush down over my entrance. The way it presses my clit, the way it ruffles my folds. My mate's tongue splits out of four long tracts in its contorting throat and whips down to meet my lips, meet my tongue, coil around it and hold it tight and stuff my slut-whore-breeder throat.

Love my mate, need my mate, so ready for the sun-like heat of its cock to fill me!

Long, slow, forceful press pushing me wider, wider, wider. All my juices trickling out to coat it, pussy-walls pulling it in to kiss the desperate please-please-please of that place right in my belly where I keep myself. The first thrust burns like fire, strokes like fire.

It's sweet and scalding and oh, it's so good to fuck!

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Not for a purpose, not so I can clear my head--this is what I'm for, this is why I exist, why I'm me, everything a succubus lives for. My legs forced wide and my womb-tattoo pulsing with need, turning me translucent inside so I can see the dark shape of my mate's shaft rearranging my organs. Faster, ever faster, until every pounding sends a wave of jiggles through my whole body. Dark scorching ooze seeps into my nipples and coats the back of my throat and raises pheromonal sweat all over me.

More, more, more, need more!

Fanged pinkish-red flaps spring open in my mate's throat. Stretch out. Stab into my neck to flood me with pleasure-venom. I nearly ruin it in my sheer yearning, nearly stretch my power and make them give me more venom. I could! I can feel how easy it would be--

--but I don't want power plays, I don't want contests and insecurity and exhausting top-bottom bullshit, I want this wonderful stupid brainless lust!

And it's so much already--what was I thinking, why was I thinking, already forgetting how to think again--

I'm full of swelling, full of urges and the fleshy wetness between my thighs and the low gurgling sounds of my mate's not-quite breathing. A little more! A little--just a--

When climax hits it's mutant, unknown, squeezing through every vein and sending milk and squirts that shine in the darkness from my body into my mate's. In return it fills me with something that starts liquid and turns quickly thicker, more and more and more.

My eyes roll back, my back strains, and still there's more. My orgasm never comes down--a continuous thought-erasing peak that holds while I see something huge widen my mate's shaft. Getting closer, closer, closer--

--when it passes my pussy-lips, I black out.

The raw torturous ecstasy fills me too much to leave any room for my senses. By the one egg has passed into me, swelling my belly and firing my nerves with happy stirs of dreamy lust and mother's love, there's another about to arrive, another, another, another--oh yes! Use me, fill me, make me carry your eggs! I love you, I love you so much! On, on, on, cumming and cumming and cumming...

Until there are two succubi.

Delirious, drooling, still caught in endless climax with trickles of love-nectar pouring over their twitching thighs. Lounging, rubbing at the black growth with little silvers of pink bioluminescence that seals their pussies right up to their wombs.

"Hey, Kai," I ask dreamily. "How long do they keep us?"

"About two weeks, usually, 'til the eggs mature and it's time to lay them," she says. Crawls on top of me, grinding her seal against mine. "This stuff keeps the eggs cushioned whenever they fuck more nutrients into us."

I stroke my fingers along the seal, muzzy and blissful.

"Sounds really nice."

Kairliina settles down, getting cuddly. "Yeah. It is."

I give in to another instinct--an odd cooing noise. Kairliina giggles in the back of her throat. Answers it with a little warbling. Nuzzles closer. So this is karlawing, is it?

It's really, really good to be a succubus in Machrae Diir.

After that it's just noises back and forth, for a while--passing time in horny bliss while we wait for our mates to return. "Hey, Kairliina?" I ask.

"Hm?" she cracks an azure eye.

"I, um..." I pull away, just a little. "I think..." Maroj Fezzlen is a deranged pain-slut full of love. She'll share it with anyone who touches her the right way. She's a mass murderer who wasn't strong enough to save her family... and she still deserves a chance to be happy.

"I want to join the miidyaerita."

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