Lucky Devil - Alexandria's Morning

Hey, folks. I wrote a short story about an amazingly promiscuous demon. It is exceptionally lewd and unsubtle, and is probably the first in a series (later parts will contain more actual plot and worldbuilding and shit, I imagine)

It contains femdom, minor elements of femmuscle, and M/F dick-suckin'.

I'm in mid-orgasm, back arched so hard I'm resting on only my heels and head, screaming and gushing. As awareness starts slowly returning to me, I notice the sun has already come up. Fuck, I think, pulling out the sopping wet dildo and throwing it aside, I forgot to sleep again.

I disentangle myself from the pile of fucked-out bodies covering my bed and rise shakily to my feet, a flood of my own juices and the cum of eight or nine dudes pouring from my cunt and asshole. On the nightstand is a half-full bottle of Les Quat'Cents Farces du Diable, my favorite - grain alcohol, jet fuel, sulfuric acid, and the skeleton of the Underworld's most poisinous snake (the flesh having disintegrated into the rest of the tasty concoction). I wrap my lips around the mouth and suck it down greedily, loving the way it tears at my mouth and throat, running into my stomach, churning all the cum I'd eaten through the night. My tongue snakes into the now-empty bottle, a whole foot of sensitive pink flesh licking up every last drop. I toss the used bottle over my shoulder and head for the shower.

Fuck fuck fuck FUCK I'm horny. I turn on only the cold water but it's no use - lust is practically flowing off my body in waves, I'm so hot the water barely has time to start running down me before it turns to steam. I set the showerhead's massage selecter to "Jackhammer" and shove it directly against my clit and lips, pent-up randiness demanding immediate satisfaction. I start howling like an animal almost immediately. Within a few minutes I've calmed down enough to wash all the sweat and jizz off, and as I leave the shower I catch sight of myself in the mirror.

Seven goddamn feet of raw sexual power stares back at me. A pair of bitchin' ram's horns jut from my short hair (currently dyed hot pink), framing a face with the kind of eyes that can make guys beg for their lives and cream their pants at the same time. I've got more rivets in my ears and face than a battleship, a fat labret stud playfully crowding my incredibly thick, pillowy dick-suckers. I have the biggest, most incredible tits in the entire universe. They're titanic, gravity-defying supertits that bounce and wobble in ways that threaten to destroy men's minds, each hypersensitive shotgun-shell nipple pierced by a nice, thick ring. Chains dangle from my nipple piercings, connecting one to the other and hanging spiked charms, adding to their mesmerising effect. I'm covered head-to-toe in piercings and abstract (but lewd!) tattoos, and am thick and amazonian to the extreme. I give one of my broad, tattooed arms a casual flex, a powerful bicep stretching the tribal band tatooed around it. The powerful back muscles needed to support my incredible tits shift and flex beneath my skin, and my belly suggests amazing abs hiding beneath a sexy pad of fat. I've got hips like a fertility goddess, yet even they can barely support the mammoth ass cheeks that jiggle and quake with every step of my mile-long thunder thighs.

I towel off and wander past the wreckage of last night's orgies towards the kitchen. From a cupboard I grab another bottle of demon booze - not as strong as my favorite stuff, but there's a good two gallons of it in the oversized jug. I set it aside and walk over to a special niche of the kitchen, licking my lips as I inspect the main course.

Imagine a nice, big, meaty, muscular man. Now imagine he's got the head of a wolf, long, sharp horns, and sexy patches of fur all over his red-skinned body. Now imagine he's gagged, blindfolded, and chained to a wall. Most importantly, imagine he's got a gigantic, veiny, rock-hard dick straining against a steel cockring, and a pair of swollen, purple nuts that have been churning with pent-up jizz for days.

Good morning, bitch. I whisper huskily into his ear as I sidle up to him, feeling his body tense as I rub my tits over it. Did you enjoy listening to me fuck your boyfriend all night?

I hear a half-animal growl emerge from his throat, and a distinctive twitch of his cock. I idly play with one of his nipples, my lips brushing against his doggie ear. Awww, don't be so mean. I know you loved listening to me make him my bitch. Why else would you be soooo hard? My hand runs over his gigantic cock, loving the heat and stiffness in the member. But you're in luck. In just a second, I'm going to give you a suck job unlike anything else you've ever felt. All you need to do in return, is make sure all of this... I give one of his swollen, aching nuts a playful flick, letting it bounce in the overstretched sack, And this... flicking the other one, feeling him shudder beneath me, go directly into my stomach. Oh, and one other thing. I wrap the balls in an iron grip, grinding and squeezing them as he wimpers beneath me. If you don't cum enough to satisfy me, I'll punish your nuts until they fall apart.

With this, I drop to my knees and instantly suck every aching inch of his monster cock into my mouth. Its girth strains deliciously against my mouth and throat, and my saliva glands go into overdrive covering it with slick, sloppy spit. I can hear him howling into his gag as I give him the most intense, mind-destroying blowjob he's ever experienced, my fat lips, long, agile tongue, and incredibly talented throat muscles working in unison to suck, caress, bully, polish, and devour every tiny contour of his oversized dick. I groan around it, the wonderful texture, taste, and firmness setting off fireworks on the whorish corners of my mind, and lewd gagging and slurping almost drowns out his frantic moans as I impale myself on the cock over and over. I suck him all the way in, throat furiously polishing his shaft as I work my tongue over the creaking, straining ring locked around the base, grinding my huge tits against his poor, helpless nuts. I slurp out, caressing the head of his cock with my pillowy lips and wanking the shaft into a spit-froth frenzy with my bottomless cleavage. He's straining mindlessly against the chains, muscles twitching helplessly as his moans grow higher and higher pitched. I redouble my efforts, then triple them, then let my whorish instincts take over completely in a frenzy of merciless, unrestrained oral pleasure. All the while I glare at the steel cockring, mentally daring it to stay in one piece longer.

I don't have to wait long. After only a few minutes of godlike mouth-fucking the cockring shatters, steel hinges springing open under the force of my breakfast's lust. My jaw aches wonderfully as the cock I have sucked right to the hilt thickens, practically tearing itself apart under the torrent of cum running through it. It hits the pit of my stomach like a cannon blast, and I instantly know it was worth teasing this bitch for so long. His cum is hot, salty, tangy, thick thick thick THICK, thick like fucking peanut butter, and there's so damn much of it. I squeeze my lips for dear life, hands stroking and mauling his nuts, throat sucking and swallowing for all I'm worth as my belly fills and stretches under the firehose pressure of his big, tasty dick. I force the stiff cock out of my throat, letting a burst of jism splash over my face, and aim the restrained cum-cannon at my tits as I uncork a chaser of demon booze. The potent concoction churns alongside the hot, heavy load sitting in my stomach, my talented throat muscles swallowing as fast as they can, and by the time the bottle is drained my tits, stomach, and legs are painted white by his cum.

I suck the head of his cock into my head and start forcefully wanking the rest with my hands and tits. He's stopped thrusting and moaning now, meaty body trembling pathetically, wimpers escaping from his gagged mouth and sweat running down every corner of him. I continue pumping the contents of his balls into my mouth and throat, savoring every single drop. I can tell his orgasm is finished, but there's still plenty in him, so I maul his over-sensitive rod until he cums again, and again, and again. After what must seem to him like decades of agonizing pleasure, the flood of cum slows to a trickle, then stops. I slurp his whole cock in one last time, making sure its immense length is wrung of every last speck, feeling the last glob run down my throat. I can tell the poor bitch is completely passed out by this point, so I undo his binds and let him fall facefirst into my cum-dripping cleavage, lowering him gently to the ground to recover, giving him a cum-scented peck on the cheek as thanks. There's a delicious stretching sensation as I rise, and as I look down I see that I've swallowed so much cum my belly sticks out past even my giant jugs. I rub my cum-filled belly, practically purring with satisfaction, and walk away, cum dripping from every inch of me (what did I even just take a shower for?)

By the time I've navigated my way through my cavernous trash-heap of a loft apartment my supercharged demon metabolism has completely absorbed the load I swallowed, my gut resuming its regular shapeliness. I round a pile of sweaty, sleeping bodies to the nook my wardrobe lives in. I pick through it (and, well, more through the piles of clothes around it), trying to find something probably-mine and relatively un-soiled. I slip on a cute lime and white-striped thong. Over that go a pair of exceedingly brief denim shorts. To the belt I attach a pair of suspenders, worn down (that's still in fashion, right?) and a pair of suspender slings to hold up my fishnet stockings. After giving my gorgeous, chained tits a bounce I decide to do the universe a favor and go barechested today, wearing my cool leather jacket opened so they can swing freely. Lastly, from an onyx vault hidden behind a Goya painting (who says I'm not classy?) I grab the only article of clothing I can't do without - a pair of tall platform boots forged in the deepest bowels of hell. They're made of dark metal with red and chrome highlights, greaves topped with skull-shaped kneepads. The platforms are cyclopean slabs ringed with spikes and cathedral-like detailing, and the nine inch heels are actually curved daggers, literal stiletto heels. As I strap them on I can feel the tormented souls writhing within them straining to flood into my body and force me to commit the blackest deeds. It kinda tickles.

Me and my awesome fuckin' boots finally wander downstairs to the bar's main floor, where the demonic gorillas I employ as bouncers have just finished tossing out the trash (and the passed-out bodies of some of last night's stragglers).

"Mornin', boss." One of them says as he picks through a particularly confusing tangle of limbs. "Miss Evangeline was in lookin' for you awhile ago. I told her you were still sleepin. Think she could hear what you were actually doin' though, heh."

I balk. "Sis actually came here in person?" Suddenly remembering my phone, I dig it out and check it for the first time this morning. Yep, a million messages from her demanding we meet at noon, something about a glorious destiny and the fate of the underworld and so on. Deciding I don't have anything better to do, I push my way through the salon doors, out into the myriad wonders and horrors of the demon city.