Fel From Grace

"Mouf's mineminemine!" It leapt at her, cock brandished like a sword, making her sputter cum as it clambered over throat. Jizz fountained out between her lips, thick clumps raining down on her own face, the imp's expression one of disbelief, as if he'd never seen the like. "She's -fucked-!" It squeaked, prying her mouth open with one and guiding his cock towards the opening. She needn't- like a roving predator, her tongue came out, found his prick and guided it in, giving it a soft bed to rest on. The imp clambered onto her head fully then, legs down over her cheeks and arms digging into her air, humping her just as his comrade had clawed feet cutting her every now and then.

Between her legs, a victor was crowned- a new cock made itself known, accompanied by a set of hands digging into her thighs, finding a grip in the soft flesh and using it to propel itself harder, further, deeper inside.

The change overcoming her wasn't just on the inside- as she writhed in the pleasure throes of the addict getting her fill (figuratively and literally), her body was becoming... curvier. Her breasts bloated more, swelling, becoming heavier- until they were almost too heavy for the imps handling them. Their frantic squeezing and groping soon yielded a bounty, as a trickle soon turned into a steady stream, and then- in the blink of an eye- a sudden eruption.

Milk.

In so many different directions- the nipples sharing generously and wildly, sprinkling human, imp and floor alike with droplets of white. Now, imp mouths closed around these wellsprings of wealth, but they were overmatched by the sheer bounty. Whenever they pulled back, milk dribbling down chin and throat, a new cascade of breastmilk shot skyward, coating her own mountainous tits.

"Arghhrhrlbhrgl-" That wasn't her voice gargling- it was the imp between her legs, suddenly assaulted by a titty another imp had aimed in his direction. He fell backwards, cock slipping out, Adrienne groaning in disappointment- and squealing with joy when a cock replaced it in an instant, bigger than the last, the girth stretching her lips wide.

Her stomach was bigger than before, looking as if it showed signs of an early pregnancy. Her hips were wider, and thicker- as were her thighs and calves. The plump cushion that was her ass wobbled when she wriggled from side to side, tears of joy making little trails in her cum splattered milk-covered face. She hiccuped, and hiccuped again, timing the load of the imp in her mouth, so many different fluids fighting for space in her mouth. Adrienne swallowed what she could, spat out the rest, nearly crushed an imp as she rolled over to the side and began to gasp for air, nose running with snot and jizz.

"Ah- ouug... houf- agh- agghh- yesss...!"

She had problems focusing, sight blurry, eyes bleary. The imps were nothing if not flexible seeing their prized rapemeat moving, they pushed and urged her on, until she was no longer lying on her side, but had crawled up to all fours. The heavy breasts were crushed flat as pancakes against the floor, but her ass was raised high, her legs shaking with the effort.

"Crawl!" One commanded, climbing atop her shoulders, holding onto her head. Others joined it on her back, while more still clambered over the massive ass, digging their claws in.

She did crawl. Slowly, smearing out the still gushing milk on the floor- leaving a sticky, sweet-smelling trail. Her pussy was overflowing with her nectar and cum alike- the imps crowded around her rear, pressing their faces into her snatch, licking her cunt, smearing out their own filth, suckling on her labia and making Adrienne positively whimper.

"Look- look at her udders!" One imp utters, and the others do look- her heaving breasts too big to be contained beneath her body, flopping out to either side, nipples in a state of non-stop spewing. While Adrienne crawls in little pathetic circles around the room, the imps laugh and kick her tits, each blow causing another squirt to bounce off a wall, an imp, the floor- her elbows and knees hurt, but she's finding it increasingly hard to think for herself, preferring instead to be led about like the idiot woman she is.

A nose is pressed into her slit, and she shivers as a tongue follows, fingers prying apart her pussy. More reach for her clit, a cascade of rubbing digits flowing over it- she begins to grunt, coming to a halt.

It's too much. Too... much...! Distantly, she registers the imps disapproval of her stopping, unleashing a barrage of blows on tits already bruised and battered. The strokes against her clit become slaps, causing stinging, aching agony- but she's so thoroughly bathed in fel, especially there, that it no longer hurts.

It feels... good.

"Yeesssshhhhh~!"

There's no cock in her mouth this time to garble her speech, just her own numb tongue and lips. Her entire body feels like it belongs to another woman, in truth- she's thicker, bigger and bustier. There's muscle beneath still, she knows it, can feel it- how else could she support tits like this, hips like that, an ass like hers?

But she can never return to what she was. She could... not...... what had she been?

There's discarded sword just in front of her, charred and broken. Some last remnant of sanity urges her to reach for it- and she does, grabbing it with fingers that can barely muster strength to wield it. Adrienne tugs it towards her, knowing it's her last hope for- for not becoming whatever it is she's becoming. On the brink of orgasm, her heart beating hard in her chest, body crazed on an extended dopamine rush, she manages to swing the sword around- yes! She'd been a paladin, hadn't she? She still had the armor, Adrienne the Paladin- she swings now, striking an imp in the side, sending it tumbling, sending them fleeing, sending them-

The sword, dragged pathetically along the ground, gently bumps into the foot of an imp using her left breast as a bongo drum. It looks down at it, at her, the contorted facial expression off-putting.

"She's gone real dumb! Look-see!" It points, cackling, but the other imps are too busy squabbling over who gets to stuff her cunt next.

Adrienne watches the imp pick up the sword, pull it out of a hand that has no strength left. Holding it above its head, it scurries back towards her rear, and is then blocked from view by her own plump... her own plump...

Things are getting warm-fuzzy, only- only there's something happening behind her. She can't look over her shoulder, she finds it -so- hard to turn her head. She's drowsy and aroused, her mind wading through an ocean's worth of fel-cum to desperately connect the dots. She... Adri... she feels hands grab her cunt, spreading it wide, and she shivers again, feeling cum pour out of her to drip on the floor, thick globules of jizz

The sword is rammed into her pussy, guided by many hands, a joint effort. It's wider than any of the cocks, harder and meaner- but it's just what Adri needs to cum. The sheer momentum and force behind the thrust lodges it hilt-deep, a gut punch that sends her sprawling on her belly, chin striking the floor. It touches her in just a way, just so- adding pressure to the clit, nearly crushing it in a way only a fel-cunt could find pleasure in- and she spasms, gurgling gutturally, fingers clawing against the cold floor as if she could drag herself away from the offending, impaling weapon.

"Ffhu-gghu-ghugg-ggjuuh-" She's not making any sense, but she doesn't have to. Thinking is a luxury at this point- her body is convulsing in forced orgasm, making her hump the floor, dashing her cunt against the sword, tongue extended far out.

Who is she?

"M-me...!" The words tumble out, the most sense she's made since... oh, five minutes ago. She's deteriorated quickly- internal fel-cum having that effect. But what does 'me' mean? Of course she's me. That's I! "Mmm... meeee...!" Surely there's more to it? You can't just be you, can you? It's like she's chasing her own tail, trying to make sense of her own words. Me's finding it hard to even form internal sentences now.

Prriee.... Pa... pri...pr... pe... penis?

Of course- that must've been it!

"Me...!" She cries out, body tense with the release, the relief with finding herself. "I'm... me...!" She laughs, the fog clearing- she's been through an ordeal, baptized by fel fire, come out a new woman. "Cock!" That's what she'd been wanting, the word she'd been looking for. Surely?

"In-" Yes, that was right!

"ME!"

A hitherto hidden peeping hole materializes in a wall adjacent to the cramped chamber. A sudden assault on the senses follow as sight, scent and hearing comes under instant barrage. There's the unmistakable sourness of sulphur, brimstone and fel fire... but also singed flesh, cum and sweat. There's loud shouting, followed by shamelessly loud moaning and groaning, a woman's voice rising in pitch in unison with the frantic chatter of imps. And finally, of course, there's the view- a bit tricky to tell from the angle certainly, but...

"Oh dear." Warlock #1, hooded and wrapped in suitably occult robes, peers in first. "That bad, is it?" That's Warlock #2 speaking, sounding more amused than anything. "Well-" #1 pulls away from the hole, momentarily letting more of the cacophony be heard;

YesyesyesyesyesYESYES- FUCK IT! FUCK MY CUNT! FUCK MY CUNT!

"I thought she was Priestess? Where did she learn that kind of talk?" "Oh, it's common enough. I see it often in people returning from having fought demons- they get a whiff of the ol' fel, and they start to..." A gnarled hand makes a gesture, as if to indicate the scene in the room just next to them. "Will she recover?"

RAPE IT! RAPE MY CUNT!

There's a moment's hesitation from Warlock #1.

RAPE-MY-CUNT!

"I... yes? No?" He taps the wall, pondering. "Her mind's fucked, y'see. But usually by now is when I have to dismiss the imps, lest they rut the body well beyond recognition." He peers in again, as if to make sure what he's seeing is correct.

"Useless! Me want more! Me want-"

"They're knocked out- look, she's trying to jerk that one into waking, but- fuck, how much fel cum has she swallowed? Taken up her twat?"

"Wait, what's- hey! You-!"

There's a sound coming closer, determined footsteps, and then suddenly- blasting through the tiny slit of the peeping hole is a woman's voice.

"Summon more! Me want more! MORE! BIGGER! MORE!"

"Shit!" Warlock #1 gestures, and the tiny slit begins to close, once again solid stone. "Don'tyoudarecheatmeoutofm-

There's a pregnant pause between Warlock #1 and Warlock #2 as each shifts nervously. "More?" Offers Warlock #2, raising her hands, occult summoning runes already dancing around her fingertips.

Warlock #1 nods, finally. "Yes. More." He, too, lifts his hands in a similar stance.

There's the sound of the chanting, of pacts made- and then, even through the thick rock and stone, they hear the woman's war cry of joy.

Another pause.

"That's fucked up."

"Poor imps."