Demon Realm Sexfight By Mess Chosen 摸鱼神选

[literaturelover]

In the interest of building the collection of sexfight stories on HB ,i am posting this publicly available sexfight story titled "Demon Realm Sexfight"
by the very imaginative writer called Mess Chosen 摸鱼神选


I checked, this story isnt on HB.


This is a very hot story and i would love to see people read and share their comments on the story.

Chapters list -


Lilith’s Throne: The Languid Hegemony of the Succubus.
Bilina’s Lascivious Triangular Deathmatch.
Blessings of the Holy Light and the Cursed Heretic.


Demon Realm Sexfight
By Mess Chosen摸鱼神选


Lilith’s Throne: The Languid Hegemony of the Succubus


Daxide Fortress towers over the Eternal Rift Wastes, its spiked turrets piercing the blood-red sky. A strange blend of sulfur and roses fills the air, seductive and unsettling. At the fortress’s core lies the throne hall, grand yet sinister, its walls studded with shimmering dark purple crystals, the floor pulsing with molten red veins. A massive obsidian throne floats at the center, wreathed in ghostly blue flames. Lilith, the newly ascended succubus overlord, lounges languidly upon it, her violet eyes glinting with playful malice. Her chestnut hair spills like a waterfall over her alabaster skin, teasingly brushing her curves.
Her attire is brazenly provocative: a black gown slit open from chest to lower abdomen, framing her slender neck, sharp collarbones, and the lush swell of her breasts, which carve a deep, tantalizing cleavage. Her toned midriff, etched with subtle muscle lines, draws the eye to the hidden allure beneath her dress. A high slit reveals half her peach-shaped hips and long, sculpted legs, with a glimpse of black leather thong peeking through. Elbow-length silk gloves and thigh-high stockings accentuate her lithe limbs, while 10-centimeter stiletto heels dangle playfully from the throne’s edge. Despite her youthful appearance, she exudes a queenly aura of dominance and deadly seduction. The faint curves of her breasts and groin tease through the fabric, ensnaring the soul. Small bat wings flutter gently from her flawless back, stirring a sweet breeze that clouds the mind.
A one-eyed beastman general kneels before her, his voice trembling. “Great Overlord, the two captive knights have endured days of torment but refuse to reveal Rick Kingdom’s military positions.” Lilith chuckles softly, her violet eyes narrowing with amusement. “Stubborn little things? Bring them to me. I’ll break them myself.”


The Knights’ Defiance and Humiliation


Chains clank as two knights are dragged into the hall. They are the holy knights of Rick Kingdom, sisters Erin and Evie, their beauty and figures mirror images, like twin blossoms. Their limbs are clad in silver armor, but their torsos are nearly bare, covered only by tattered white gauze. Their pale skin bears red marks from beastman assaults. Full breasts and slender waists are exposed, their toned abs tensing under strain, small navels glinting in the blue firelight. Despite days of torture, their emerald eyes burn with unyielding resolve, jaws clenched to protect their kingdom’s secrets.
Lilith rises from her throne, her steps graceful, stilettos clicking sharply against the floor. She circles the sisters, her violet gaze raking over their bodies, a mocking smile curling her lips. “Such lovely sisters, yet so defiant. What a waste.” She pauses, her fingertip grazing Erin’s chin, forcing her to look up. “Tell me, where are Rick Kingdom’s forces hiding? Speak, and you’ll suffer less.”
Erin grits her teeth, her voice icy. “Never! We’ll never betray our kingdom!” Evie clenches her fists, echoing, “You’ll get nothing from us, demon!” Lilith giggles, clapping her hands. “Such spirit! I adore breaking the unbreakable.” Her playful mood shifts, violet eyes glinting with cunning. “Beastmen torturing you for days with no results? Pathetic. Sisters like you, ripe for a sex fight, should be made to break each other.”


The Double-Ended Dragon’s Despairing Violation


Lilith waves a hand, and two three-meter-tall beastman guards lumber forward, leering as they shove Erin and Evie to the hall’s center, forcing them to kneel face-to-face. With a snap of Lilith’s fingers, a dark purple glow flashes, and a massive, coarse double-ended dragon rises from the floor, its surface studded with scaly ridges, radiating an unnatural heat. Erin and Evie’s emerald eyes widen in terror, their struggles futile against the beastmen’s grip. Chains bind their wrists, rendering resistance impossible.
Lilith lounges back on her throne, crossing her long legs, her voice dripping with mockery. “Let the sex fight begin, sisters. Put on a good show.” The beastmen drag the dragon’s ridged tip across Erin’s tender folds, the searing pain and shame wrenching a scream from her. “Aahh… stop… let me go…” The other end grinds against Evie’s trembling entrance, drawing a pained cry. “Aahh… no… stop it…” The beastmen’s rough hands grip the sisters’ soft hips from behind. “No… please… stop…” Struggling, Erin and Evie can only watch as the dragon’s massive ends force their way in, stretching them open. Ignoring their pleas, the beastmen thrust the sisters’ hips together with a wet slap, their slick cores colliding, swallowing the dragon whole, impaling them both.
Their cores are stretched wide, the coarse ridges scraping sensitive inner walls, slamming against their tender cervixes. Their wombs, linked through the dragon, quiver in mutual torment, blending excruciating pain with unwanted pleasure. Erin and Evie arch back, their parted lips silent, bodies trembling, tears and drool dripping down.
Lilith claps gleefully, her laughter sultry. “What devoted sisters! But not intimate enough! Your lower lips are kissing; now let your upper ones join in!” The beastmen seize the sisters’ necks, forcing their faces together, lips brushing. Reeling from the dragon’s deep penetration, Erin and Evie’s tears stream down, emerald eyes brimming with humiliation. They try to turn away, but the beastmen force their mouths together. Their tongues entwine unwillingly, muffled whimpers escaping. “Mmph… sister… I’m sorry…” “Mmph… Evie… don’t be scared…” The dragon plunges deeper, their cores crashing together, lips slick and clinging, fluids dripping. Gasps and moans echo through the hall. “Aahh… it hurts… aahh… no… aahh…”
Trapped in despair, the sisters are forced to violate each other in their sex fight. Erin’s core, stretched wide by the dragon, fights the rising pleasure, her voice pleading. “Evie… don’t move… I can’t take it…” Evie, tears blurring her vision, chokes out, “Sister… I don’t want to… aahh…” The dragon’s ridges grind their sensitive cores, driving them to climax. Their bodies convulse, screams tearing free. “Aaaahh… I can’t… aaaahh…” Fluids gush, and they collapse, chains rattling, emerald eyes clouded with shame.
Lilith’s laughter rings out, mocking. “Days of beastman torture, and I break you in minutes! Learn from me—don’t think with your loins. These sisters are born for a sex fight!” She rises, stilettos clicking, and grips Erin’s chin, her violet eyes taunting. “Speak. The military positions. Or shall we have another sex fight?”


The Phallic Spell’s Exquisite Torment


Erin and Evie clench their jaws, silent, their emerald eyes flickering with defiance. Lilith sneers, her violet gaze flashing with cruelty. “Fine. If you love each other so much, let’s make this sex fight even closer.” She waves a hand, casting a forbidden spell. Dark purple light envelops the sisters, and their clitorises swell, morphing into thick, coarse phalluses, their surfaces ridged with scales, like demonic organs.
The sisters scream in horror. Erin cries out, “Aahh… what is this… stop…” Evie’s tears fall, “Aahh… it’s disgusting… make it stop…” Lilith’s laughter is sultry. “All those lonely nights, gazing at your sister’s alluring body, touching yourself. In the dungeon, watching her be ravaged, wishing it was her inside you. Your dream comes true, sisters. Show me how much you love each other in this sex fight!”
The beastmen grin wickedly, wrenching the sisters’ legs apart, lifting their knees to their shoulders, exposing their cores and new phalluses to raw stimulation. They shove the sisters together, forcing Erin’s phallus into Evie’s tight passage and Evie’s into Erin’s tender core. The coarse phalluses stretch their cores, scales scraping sensitive walls, their delicate cervixes clashing with sensitive tips, pain and pleasure intertwining.
Erin screams, “Aaaahh… Evie… don’t go inside… aahh…” Evie wails, “Aaaahh… sister… stay back… aahh…” Their phalluses ravage each other’s cores in the sex fight, tight passages gripping the thick shafts, sensitive tips pounding tender cervixes. They’re driven to climax, bodies spasming, fluids and seed spraying. “Aaaahh… I can’t… aaaahh…” Their emerald eyes brim with humiliation, tears streaming, bodies quaking.
In the prolonged sex fight, their organs know no respite, phalluses and cores relentlessly stimulated, orgasms piling atop one another. Erin’s phallus plunges deep into Evie’s core, its tip hammering her cervix, forcing Evie to climax, her screams raw. “Aaaahh… sister… I can’t take it…” Evie’s phallus pierces Erin’s core, scales grinding her walls, the shaft battering her womb, driving Erin to climax, her cries anguished. “Aaaahh… Evie… stop moving…” Their emerald eyes dim, their wills cracking under endless orgasms, consciousness sinking into a pleasure-soaked abyss. Tears and fluids mingle, gasps and moans filling the hall. “Aaaahh… I’m coming again… aaaahh…”
After countless shared climaxes, their cores, raw from friction, remain tortured; their phalluses, swollen from pressure, still serve. Their wombs, scorched by internal release, are flooded with endless seed. The sisters collapse entirely, emerald eyes dull, lips trembling, drool dripping. Erin whispers hoarsely, her phallus still thrusting into Evie’s core. “Aahh… spare me… I’ll tell you anything… let Evie die…” Evie sobs, her phallus piercing Erin’s core. “Aahh… sister… don’t hate me… I have to live… I’ll say anything…” In their broken state, they abandon each other, ready to sell their kingdom’s secrets and their sister to survive, yet their phalluses continue their relentless assault in the sex fight, tips battering cervixes, fluids gushing.


The Cruel Game of Pregnancy Magic


Lilith’s violet eyes gleam with sadistic delight as she sneers. “Oh? Then I’ll give you a chance for one last sex fight.” She waves a hand, casting another spell, dark purple light enveloping them. “From now on, every climax will trigger ovulation, your wombs filling with your sister’s seed. You’ll be pregnant in no time. The one who exhausts the other’s eggs first, filling her with pregnancies, lives!”
The sisters scream in terror. Erin wails, “Aahh… no… this is too cruel…” Evie’s tears spill, “Aahh… stop… I don’t want to get pregnant…” Their emerald eyes brim with despair, their broken minds clinging only to escaping this pleasure hell. Without beastmen forcing them, they writhe willingly, their sensitive cores slapping together with wet smacks, fluids splattering. They ravage each other in the sex fight, phalluses plunging deep, tips hammering cervixes, forcing orgasms and ovulation. Erin grits her teeth, her phallus pounding Evie’s core, screaming, “Aaaahh… Evie… come… die first…” Evie chokes, her phallus thrusting wildly into Erin’s core. “Aaaahh… sister… get pregnant… I want to live…” Their flat abdomens swell, fertilized eggs multiplying, pain and pleasure intertwining, bodies convulsing, fluids and seed spraying.
Lilith watches coldly, concealing the truth: before their eggs run out, the multiplying embryos will rupture their wombs. But if one resists climax while the other willingly orgasms to death, the survivor might save her sister. As expected, the fallen sisters choose as Lilith predicted.
Locked in a desperate sexfight, they violate each other to survive. Erin grits her teeth, her phallus hammering Evie’s core, forcing orgasms, swelling Evie’s abdomen, aiming to deplete her eggs first. Evie, tears streaming, sobs, “Aaaahh… sister… stop raping me… my belly’s going to burst…” Yet her phallus ravages Erin’s core, forcing orgasms, bloating Erin’s abdomen. Erin chokes, “Aaaahh… Evie… don’t violate me… my womb’s splitting…” They beg each other to stop, yet see each other’s climaxes as victory, ravaging relentlessly in the sex fight, their abdomens ballooning, tears and fluids dripping, gasps and moans echoing. “Aaaahh… please come… aaaahh… die for me…”
Mutual Destruction’s Tragic Choice
In the endless sexfight, the sisters climax repeatedly, their minds teetering on collapse, emerald eyes dim, driven only to outlast the other. Erin’s abdomen bulges like a pregnant woman’s, pain wrenching screams from her. “Aaaahh… Evie… stop… I don’t want to die…” Yet she thrusts into Evie’s core, forcing orgasms. Evie’s abdomen stretches to its limit, tears falling. “Aaaahh… sister… don’t move… I want to live…” Yet she pierces Erin’s core, driving orgasms. Their bodies tremble, sweat and fluids mingling, the friction of phalluses and cores unleashing tidal waves of pleasure, consciousness fading.
Lilith’s lieutenant, the succubus Nana, speaks with concern. “Great Overlord, they’ll die. We’ll lose the information.” Lilith sneers, her violet eyes icy. “No matter. I despise traitors. The moment they abandoned each other, their mutual destruction was sealed.”
The sisters overhear Lilith’s words, their emerald eyes filling with terror, pleading with each other. “Aaaahh… she’s lying… Evie/sister… stop… we’ll both die… pull out…” But Lilith waves a hand, and the beastmen force them to continue the sex fight, plunging them into despair. Their phalluses drive deep, tips battering cervixes, orgasms relentless, mutual internal releases flooding them, fluids and seed spraying, abdomens swelling like pregnant women, forced to impregnate each other without pause. Erin screams, “Aaaahh… Evie… save me… I don’t want to die…” Evie wails, “Aaaahh… sister… help me… I want to live…”
Lilith, bored with the sexfight, toys with her hair, muttering mockingly. “Cowards who surrender and flee are the worst. Begging for mercy in a fight to the death? Pathetic. Knights get weaker with each generation. If you’re going to die, at least make it spectacular. Your only worth lies in how vividly you perish.”
Her words stir something in the sisters. Gasping and tear-streaked, they lock eyes. Bound by beastmen and cursed by magic, they know continuing will only burst their bellies, killing them both. “Aaaahh… Evie… aaaahh… let’s have one final sex fight!” Erin moans, sobbing, her restrained body writhing harder, her thick phallus plunging brutally into Evie’s slick, tight core, battering her fragile cervix, flooding her with thick seed as Evie’s body arches in a gushing climax, triggering an even fiercer orgasm. “Aaaahh… Erin… aaaahh… charge!” Evie cries, weeping, her pinned body bucking wildly, her coarse phallus piercing Erin’s wet, clinging core, slamming her tender cervix, unloading searing seed as Erin’s body bows in climax, sparking an even stronger release.
Their phalluses thrust on, tips pounding cervixes, forcing orgasms. Their abdomens swell to their limits, pain and pleasure entwined, consciousness shattering in despair. Lewd gasps and screams fill the air, no longer begging or cursing, only the unyielding charge of knights, their maidenly bodies locked in mortal combat. Their wills collapse, emerald eyes lifeless, bodies spasming, abdomens stretched to breaking. In a final, cataclysmic climax, they flood each other with seed, screaming, “Aaaahh… sister/Evie… aaaahh…” A deafening boom erupts as their abdomens burst, blood and seed spraying. Their beautiful forms slump in the beastmen’s arms, reduced to tragic corpses, their massive phalluses still lodged in each other’s tightened cores, a final bond. The beastmen swiftly drag the bodies away, cleaning the remnants, and the hall falls silent.
“Don’t feed them to the dogs this time. Too rank,” Lilith says from her throne, her face expressionless. “Dig a pit and bury them… somewhere quiet.”


This is merely the beginning.


Her demonic and beastman minions, once aroused by the sisters’ sexfight, their fluids flowing and members swollen, now quiver in fear at Lilith’s cruelty, their lust extinguished.
Only Nana speaks softly. “Great Overlord, I’ll capture more prisoners for interrogation…” Lilith waves dismissively, rising gracefully, her gown swaying to reveal pale skin and deep cleavage, her violet eyes cold. “No need. The moment they broke, Rick Kingdom’s positions ceased to be secret. Never blindly trust your own will—it’s full of holes.”
She steps to Nana, her fingertip lifting her chin. “Decisions require absolute preparation, not fleeting thrills. You should know the fate of my prey before bringing them to me, not scramble to fix things after. Understood? When you’re free, ride the wooden horse for a day to reflect.” Nana’s golden eyes tremble, but her gaze is firm. “Yes, Great Overlord.”
Lilith turns, her stilettos clicking, her sultry laughter echoing. “Rally the army. Crush the humans!”


Demon Realm Sexfight - Chapter Two: Bilina’s Lascivious Triangular Deathmatch




Chapter 1: A Silent Morning
Nestled among rolling emerald hills and the murmuring Sava River, the border town of Bilina basked in serene pastoral beauty. Morning mist cloaked the village, softening the outlines of its humble homes encircling a modest square. At the town’s heart stood a simple church, its holy dome piercing the hazy sky. In the square, a rugged spring rocking horse—crafted by the local blacksmith, its basin seat welded to a sturdy spring—stood as a children’s favorite. Though its surface was weathered, the seat’s inner edges gleamed from constant use.
Every day, Sister Sherry stood by the rocking horse, her gentle gaze watching the children play. She guided them to take turns, soothed those jolted by the ride, and lifted them down to make way for eager newcomers bouncing in delight.
Now, under the chill morning mist, the playground lay deserted, the children’s laughter long faded. Sherry stood alone by the rocking horse, her blue eyes clouded with sorrow.
A familiar shout snapped her from her reverie. Shawn, a young soldier drafted into the Holy Relic Guard, sprinted toward her, brown hair damp with sweat, his face etched with urgency. “Sister Sherry, the relic’s secured! We’re ready to move. The seal was tougher than expected. Sid’s demon army is already across the Sava River. We need to go—now!”
Sherry shook her head, her golden hair swaying beneath her black nun’s cap. “Shawn, I must return to the church to bless the town anew, to shield it from demonic corruption. It’s my duty. You go ahead.” Her voice was soft but resolute, her blue eyes radiant with selfless devotion.
Shawn’s brow furrowed, his tone desperate. “Sister, it’s too dangerous! Those monsters… no matter what the higher-ups say, our front lines keep retreating.” He paused, clenching his fists. “Come with us. This isn’t our home. As long as you’re there, anywhere can be home…”
“Shawn, don’t say such things.” Sherry gently pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. “This is the land that raised us, everyone’s home. We can’t abandon it. Isn’t that why you enlisted?”
“I enlisted to protect you…” Shawn’s voice trembled. “The demon army’s leader is Valagoth, the Great Rift Demon who single-handedly crushed a duchy! Scouts spotted a demon outpost nearby. Their vanguard might already be on its way.”
“Don’t worry, Shawn.” Sherry smiled, her touch lingering on his armored chest. “I’m touched to know you’re protecting me, but your sister is strong. I have the power to defend myself and others. Share that love with everyone.” Noticing the boy she’d grown up with was now a man, she added warmly, “Besides, Holy Knights Lady Erin, Lady Evie, and Lady Orelia are organizing the defense. Reinforcements from the Twin Empires and Harborg are coming. We’ll win.”
“But… I heard it’s Nana leading them…” Shawn’s voice faltered.
“Nana?” A flicker of fear crossed Sherry’s blue eyes. “Demon King Nana?”
At the mention of the demon king, Shawn shivered, nodding slowly. “The guard’s whispering about it. It’s probably her—the Eternal Nightmare Nana, the demon king who ruled here a century ago.”
Memories of the Eternal Night Era, described in chilling texts, pierced Sherry like a wintry gale. She, a mere survivor of a minor border skirmish, had endured a decade-long nightmare. The thought of the Eternal Nightmare that once engulfed the western realms made her tremble. Steeling herself, she forced calm. She and Shawn had escaped hell once; this time, they were stronger. Surely no new demon could endure so long—it must be enemy propaganda. She smiled reassuringly. “Shawn, don’t worry. Great demons wouldn’t bother with a small town like ours. We’ll be fine.”
“But…” Shawn hesitated.
“I’ll finish the blessing quickly and catch up.” Sherry lifted a slender leg, revealing an obsidian dagger strapped to her thigh, then puffed out her ample chest with playful pride. “Forgot? I’m trained. Ordinary demons are no match for me. Trust me!”
“Uh… alright.” Soothed by her warmth, Shawn’s tense nerves eased. His gaze drifted to her provocative figure, and a flush crept up his cheeks.
Sherry’s golden hair cascaded in waves, gleaming warmly in the sunlight, framing a refined, solemn face. Her blue eyes sparkled like the sky, deep and mysterious, her full lips lightly flushed. Her porcelain skin glowed with holy radiance. Her curvaceous figure—ample breasts, slender waist, and wide hips—formed a perfect hourglass. Shawn realized, at some point, the sister who’d always been by his side had become an irresistibly alluring woman.
Her black, form-fitting nun’s habit was daringly provocative, wrapping her full breasts from the sides, exposing generous cleavage and the tops of her mounds. The fabric clung to her torso, cut away at the abdomen in a cross-shaped pattern, revealing a taut, flat belly centered on a narrow navel. The high-slit skirt bared her long legs and side hips, with delicate black panties’ straps unashamedly nestled into her groin’s curves. Black thigh-high stockings and elbow-length gloves accentuated her sleek limbs, blending strength and sensuality, sanctity and seduction. As she leaned close, her voluptuous breasts pressed against Shawn’s armor, deepening her cleavage’s allure.
Sherry gently fastened an enchanted necklace around Shawn’s neck, her voice soft. “Shawn, you’ve grown so tall—I’m almost on tiptoes! But you’re still a child who needs his sister’s protection. Don’t be reckless. I won’t be by your side this time, so be careful. This necklace blocks mental magic. See, I have one too—we’re always connected. Now, don’t keep the others waiting. Go!”
As they’d grown, Shawn’s feelings for Sherry’s closeness stirred unspoken desires. She was no longer just a sister but a beautiful woman he yearned to be closer to. Feeling her warmth and fragrance so near, his face burned, and he stammered, “Th-then… be careful! Someone spotted beastman barbarians nearby. Stick to the main road, avoid the forest!”
Sherry nodded, her blue eyes smiling. “I will. You take care too. We’ll meet in Lorni.”
“Yeah, see you soon…” Shawn’s heart raced as he gazed at her. “And I’m not a kid anymore. From now on, I’ll protect you, Sister.”
“Deal.” Sherry waved, her chest’s curves swaying enticingly.
Knowing their duties diverged, Shawn blushed and hurried to rejoin the guard. Touching the necklace, he recognized its magic. Unlike mighty demons, humans and most humanoids were frail, relying on enchanted tools to face demons. This necklace, a creation of a Rick merchant company, blocked mental attacks and could prevent a second fatal blow. On Sid’s front lines, where claws and blades were the real threat, such effects seemed impractical—mental interference was rare, and who needed protection from a “second” fatal strike? A first would kill you! Though powerful, these necklaces languished in church vaults after the company’s bankruptcy. But none of that mattered. This was Sherry’s gift to Shawn, making it his greatest treasure. He resolved to confess his love once the war settled, quickening his pace to catch the relic guard.
Alone, Sherry entered the church, where stained-glass windows cast kaleidoscopic light, and candles flickered on the altar. Even indoors, her nun’s habit swayed as if in a breeze, her exposed breasts and thighs glowing seductively under holy light.
Her blue eyes flickered with unease.
After countless prayers, Sherry knew the church intimately and sensed something amiss—a sweet, demonic aura tainting the air, a faint shimmer in the altar’s glow, and a trace of fur on the floor.




Chapter 2: Confronting the Demon King’s Climax
Morning dew slid down honeyed skin, tracing the curves of her breasts into her cleavage, gliding over a taut abdomen, pooling in a narrow navel, then slipping beneath a short skirt, trailing along inner thighs with a crystalline sheen. Dark Elf Luna endured the sticky discomfort of Bilina’s humid, stifling jungle. Such trifles meant nothing to a race forged in exile.
Her white hair danced in the breeze, purple eyes glinting with urgency. Her black leather corset accentuated her ample breasts’ proud curves, a deep V exposing a long stretch of cleavage. Red gauze extended from the corset’s sides to her back, leaving her sculpted abdomen bare. White thigh-high stockings clung to her swiftly moving legs, her hips swaying under a short skirt, round buttocks quivering. A mithril dagger gleamed in her white-gloved hand, slicing through obstructing vines. Her tattered white cloak, snagged by the forest, was discarded.
Per her plan, Luna should have ambushed the poorly defended relic convoy and been en route to demon territory. But Gulu’s message last night delayed her, forcing her to brave dawn’s light infiltrating Bilina’s human defenses.


“What? Tonight?” Luna whispered, shocked by Gulu’s transmission. A deal she’d thought hopeless was now a critical opportunity. “But I’m not in the territory. Can’t it—”
“Tonight, or it’s your loss. Opportunity’s here—choose!” Gulu’s shrill voice cut her off.
Luna bit her full lips, resolve hardening in her purple eyes. She couldn’t bear the starving gazes of elven children, the hollow eyes of enslaved kin, or the despairing pupils in the arena. “Fine, I’m coming!” She bolted from her church lookout, racing toward demon lands.
Across the Sava River, the demon camp reeked of brimstone and flame. Demons, beasts, and beastmen thronged the chaos. Luna met Gulu, a flame imp whose bloated body hovered on tiny wings, resembling a pig-headed fly. Lowly imps barely survived the front, but Gulu always procured rare resources—even chances to meet demon commanders. “Hurry! Time’s short! Don’t forget our deal,” he urged, wobbling as he dodged a passing beastman, heading deep into the camp.
Luna followed, her white stockings flashing, breasts bouncing, and hips swaying under her tight skirt, drawing lecherous stares.
“How much for this one?” A massive hand blocked Gulu, who crashed into it, comically flattening himself. A towering minotaur pointed at Luna, its half-meter erection blatant, licking its lips. “If she’s not for sale, one night’ll do. Name a price.”
“Not for sale, but for the right price… one night’s negotiable. Overnight gets a discount—” Gulu, face skewed from the impact, haggled until Luna grabbed him, hastening away. She knew he’d sell her for profit. Unlike the Eternal Night Era, she had no right to protest. Though annoyed at Gulu’s attempt to peddle her first night, years of exile dulled her temper. Without him, she’d likely have been violated already—masterless dark elves were less than commodities, free for the taking.
They bypassed grand fortifications, heading for an unremarkable tent. Luna whispered skeptically, “You sure this is right? Doesn’t look like a big shot’s place.”
“No mistake! That lord… is unique,” Gulu replied, distracted.
The closer they got, the stronger the magical aura grew. A tailless, earless silicon blue cat, a pink five-star muscled fiend, a double-headed shape-shifting eagle—terrifying high-tier demons passed by, easing Luna’s doubts. Gulu never sold fakes.
Only nearing the tent did Luna grasp its size—its entrance loomed like a city gate, obscuring its other sides. As the “gate” opened, a ten-meter-tall, scarred six-legged minotaur lizard emerged, its red-hot chains binding its muzzle crackling, five black-flame eyes glaring down at the insignificant Gulu and Luna.
Blazefall Born, Duchy’s Bane, Harborg’s Ruin, Great Rift Demon Valagoth! Luna’s heart stopped, her breath seized, legs buckling as she collapsed, soul scorched by its black flames, unable to speak or resist.
“Move! Our turn!” Gulu shoved her head, snapping her awake as she sprawled on the ground.
Ignoring the demon’s menacing gaze, Gulu crawled into the tent. Luna mimicked him, limbs trembling, not daring to look up. Her ample breasts scraped the ground, but fear numbed her senses, her honeyed skin drenched in sweat as she followed Gulu inside.


“Speak.” A trembling, icy female voice echoed.
“Great—” Gulu began.
“Flatterers, out.” The voice cut him off coldly, freezing Gulu mid-crawl, unsure whether to flee. Luna quaked, fearing they’d angered the speaker.
“Dark Elf, crossing the Sea of Sky from afar—not here for a stroll, I presume.” The voice pierced Luna, devoid of anger or any emotion.
Luna stammered, “I… I seek to restore my nation…” A lascivious scent hit her, the carpet beneath sodden and sticky, accompanied by ceaseless erotic sloshing.
“Restoration, hm? Last time, your kind was quite… welcoming. Is this your whim or your people’s vote?” The voice asked coolly. “No matter, Nimmo Riverlands, yes? Fine. The price?”
“The Moon of No Light… I know where it is. I’ll retrieve it for you…” Luna fought to stay calm, her honeyed abdomen twitching with tension. She knew the history—during the Dark Moon Era, her enslaved ancestors thought darkness heralded their nadir, only to realize, when it ended, they’d missed their chance at redemption. Through endless exile, shifting faiths, only the Eternal Night remained their refuge, a haven for their sun-scorched skin. She’d crossed the Sea of Sky to meet the true guardian of the fringe worlds, bearing her people’s hopes to atone for their ancestors’ folly.
“Dark Moon? It still exists?” For the first time, the voice betrayed surprise, but quickly regained its chill. “That doesn’t match your request.”
Luna broke into a cold sweat. The Moon of No Light’s secret cost three generations of elven sacrifices. Her race had nothing left, and she had no more to offer. Failure meant her people’s eternal loss. “My… my life… everything!” Her breasts heaved, stinging from the carpet’s friction, but she had no other bargaining chip. What was her meager life worth?
“I owe you.” The trembling, icy voice interrupted. “Your kind never lacked a nation—it’s not worth your life. The Moon’s existence is payment enough. Name a greater wish than restoration.”
Stunned, Luna looked up, witnessing a shocking scene.
The vast tent held only books and war reports. At its center stood a triangular wooden horse, its spiked, iron-clad tip embedded in the private parts of a woman astride it. Heavy chained weights hung from her legs, forcing her body downward, her honeyed slit sliding on the spikes. Behind, a colossal demonic wolf, its black fur an abyss of shifting shadows, occupied a third of the tent. Its pupil-less white eyes stared blankly, chillingly eerie. The wolf toyed with its plaything, relentlessly rocking the horse, forcing the woman’s body to sway, her slit mercilessly grated by spikes. Copious fluids dripped, soaking her legs and half the carpet, exuding a lascivious aura. How long had she endured this torment?
Luna gaped, speechless.
Before her was the demon king who, two centuries ago, carved the Eternal Night Era into the western realms’ heart. She defeated the Twin Empires’ Vanguard, Nolan’s Winged Knights, Gauss’s Solar Legion, Danway’s Frost Horde, and Bilia’s Conquerors, ruling as a demon among holy emperors for fifty years—the Eternal Nightmare Nana, whose name sparked dread and reshaped nations.
The lord who slaughtered the elven high kings and freed Luna’s ancestors, a mythic succubus, was no demon in truth. Nor did the wolf resemble the Dark Queen of legend.
And… she seemed to relish tormenting women. Luna’s loins twitched, imagining herself atop that horse, doubting she’d survive the night if the demon king demanded her body.
“No ideas?” The tormented woman spoke, waving a trembling hand. “This is yours—helps with theft. Failure’s my loss; success, you name another wish. Leave. I’ll see the next.”
A starry crystal orb appeared before Luna, snapping her back. She saw the woman clearly.
Glossy black hair fell past demonic horns, a sleek black bodysuit barely covering her privates, open from chest to abdomen, exposing most of her modest, shapely breasts. Without compression, they lacked cleavage, swaying wildly with the horse’s motion. The suit gaped at her sides and back, thin straps revealing a slender waist and pale back, her massive demonic wings quivering behind. The suit narrowed at her hips, accentuating round buttocks, its crotch pulled aside, her slit fully engulfing the spiked protrusion. Her bare legs gleamed healthily, clad in black thigh-high boots, but heavy chained weights forced them straight, anchoring her to the horse’s cruel edge. A black choker bound her neck, chained to the horse like a slave, yet she showed no intent to escape. Her gloved arms, unbound, held war reports, her flushed face expressionless, golden eyes icy despite her torment.
A succubus, a queen, Nana—this woman fit the image better. But why was a demon king, a former holy emperor, being tortured? Lord-tier demons, especially new demons with mortal blood, were living ether generators, natural masters of magic, nearly untouchable in battle.
Yet this demon king, her flushed face cold, her trembling body rigid, bit her lip to stifle moans, enduring relentless stimulation while reading reports. Her golden eyes squinted more frequently, her body tensing, her slit gushing fluids, low groans escaping her throat. The massive wolf rocked the horse mechanically, indifferent to Nana’s pain or pleasure, tormenting her through climax after climax. Was this a bizarre fetish? A masochistic display for her subordinates? Dark elves knew suffering, but this self-imposed torment was unprecedented.
Gulu grabbed the crystal orb, dragging the stunned Luna out. She realized she’d stared too long, her cheeks burning, her thighs clenched, a hint of moisture between them.
“She’s… peculiar, even among demons,” Gulu muttered, far from the tent. “But the deal’s done. Per our agreement, extra rewards are mine. Don’t renege… Ha, not a bad start!”
Calming herself, Luna nodded. The reward was hers, but a deal was a deal. The promise of her people’s restoration mattered most. Without Gulu, her dream would be unreachable. The Eternal Nightmare was surprisingly reasonable—without seeing her climax repeatedly on that horse, Luna could hardly believe this mythic emperor was so… eccentric.
Gulu inspected the orb with a monocle, grinning. “Jackpot! Work hard, Luna, my fortune’s coming! Oh, take this.”
He offered a writhing, grotesque flesh lump. Luna suppressed her disgust. “What’s that?”
“Prime stuff! Rare as it gets—eat it for stamina, you’ll feel like a man! Or refine it for dragon blood, enough to feed your tribe for life.”
“Can I get something useful? I’m infiltrating the kingdoms for a relic.” Gulu’s generosity was a shock, suggesting Nana’s reward was valuable. But Luna wanted no part of this repulsive thing, asking casually while packing.
“Fine, since I’m feeling generous, this one’s free—suits you.” As Luna bent to adjust her boots, Gulu pinned a ribbon-shaped hairpin on her. He slipped the flesh lump into her arm pouch, explaining, “It’s got a rope spell—perfect for stealing or snatching.”
“Who were you saving this for? A succubus? A naga? Not a beastman, surely.” Luna touched the hairpin, recalling she hadn’t adorned herself in years, her parents’ trinkets long pawned for food. “Thanks, Gulu. Here’s to our next deal.”
A good start. Now, she had to seize the Moon of No Light before its transfer tonight. She had to hurry back to Bilina.
“Hey, watch the range and tim—where’d she go?” Before Gulu could finish, Luna’s lithe figure vanished into the night.


Bilina’s silent morning greeted her, the church’s holy dome gleaming in her purple eyes.






Chapter 3: The Drifting Twins
In Bilina’s mist-shrouded morning, deep in the dense forest, Myuko panted, her green eyes blazing with killing intent. With a thrust of her slender leg, her high heel pierced a demon beast’s skull, the sickening crunch echoing. Silence returned, the ground littered with demon scout corpses—lesser demons and goblins, their mangled remains bleeding rivers. Myuko smoothed her disheveled orange hair and yellow-orange cat ears, frowning at the red-white stains on her heels, wiping them distastefully on the beast’s scales.
The blood sacrifice for the ritual was complete. Taking a deep breath, her white cheongsam clung to her hourglass figure, the red-knotted chest opening revealing massive, pale breasts that bounced with her movements. Her cat ears twitched as she prayed softly, “My bloodkin, your vengeance is fulfilled, your grudges settled. May your mortal forms ascend, your souls return to the holy court.” Raising her arms, she cast multicolored beastman hairs into the air, where they dissolved in radiant light, their souls freed.
This wasn’t the first time she’d seen her kin’s corpses en route—whether from Baiston’s forces or refugees stranded in the western realms. Returning their souls was a beastman tradition. Myuko slaughtered demons for vengeance and offerings, but she knew too many grudges remained. Her greater mission left no time to sacrifice blood for every lost soul.
“Sorry, you’ll have to wander a bit longer.” Myuko inhaled the damp air, her breasts heaving, gripping the Blazing Sun shard to calm herself. “Junlin’s salvation is on us. Lost kin, lend me your strength.”
Surveying the forest, she sensed gathering magical winds, ether surging. Demon armies, royal forces, beast hordes, and summoned creatures converged here, a hidden scheme at play. Myuko knew pressing forward was riskier, but even as a pawn in this game, she wouldn’t falter. Biting her full lips, her green eyes flashed with resolve, forcing herself to rally. “Can’t let my cushy future slip away.”


The western realms’ conflicts meant nothing to beastmen. Demon invasions were routine—either demons were repelled, and the realms fought over the holy emperor’s title, or demons won, and the Holy Light pontiff didn’t care who ruled, so long as they paid or secured his power. Even a succubus could be crowned emperor, only to perish in the realms’ fractured wars, sparking new chaos.
Baiston no longer trusted the western realms’ human allies, hoping only to avoid another mad pontiff purging beastmen under heresy’s banner.
A month ago, the Great Sanctuary’s Blazing Sun dimmed, nearly costing Junlin its second barrier. Control was regained by dusk, the mayor claiming it was a technical adjustment. But the truth was clear: the last time the Blazing Sun dimmed, Junlin fell, and it took Baiston sixty years to reclaim their holy capital.
“We can’t hold on like this. The relic can’t stay this way. If the sun never sets, the world burns,” the chief steward confided to Junlin’s mayor. “You need to stabilize the people.”
“What does the emperor say?”
“He’s at the barrier, silent,” the steward sighed. “He knows without the Dark Moon, our time’s running out.”
“You’ve been searching. No leads?”
Silence lingered. “Needle in a haystack. We know it’s in the western realms—Eternal Rift Abyss, Sun King’s Palace, all searched. Nothing.” The steward’s voice grew agitated. “If those Twin Empire fools have it, we’re done. Our kin are blamed for the chaos—killed or enslaved. All we know is it hasn’t moved, like the Blazing Sun. Forcing it would cost too much. If it had moved, the Blazing Sun would’ve reacted.”
“What now? Diplomacy?”
“Did you get dung in your brain cleaning sewers?” The usually refined steward snapped. “Diplomacy? They’d steal the Blazing Sun too!”
Hardly a prime prince consort candidate, Myuko was confident in her stealth, slipping from the secret meeting. Junlin’s palace offered more hiding spots than the countryside where she’d stolen food.
“Where’ve you been, kitten?” Back in her room, Mia hugged her. “I’m lonely without you. Spill—who’s the latest prince consort candidate to cheat?”
“A chance to score big.” Resigned to Mia’s embrace, Myuko recounted the steward’s talk. “Find it, and we’re marrying the crown prince on the spot.”
“Uh… is that a chance?” Mia’s face showed dismay. “The western realms are way more dangerous than Junlin. Humans don’t see us as people.”
“I thought you’d leap at points. Don’t you adore the prince?” Myuko teased, catching Mia’s shy blush as she burrowed into her hair. “Goodwill won’t outscore the competition. Those girls next door earn more in one fling than you do in a year with the prince. And he’s been at the barrier, right? Haven’t seen him in ages.”
Mia nodded bashfully. “But you need to survive to win. Exposed cheaters lose their points. Myuko, promise me—no reckless adventures. You’re all I have. If we don’t make it, let’s go back to the countryside, be best friends forever, okay?”
“And if you win?”
“Then I’m keeping you!” Mia grinned, brushing Myuko’s hair. “You’ve got no shot, but I’ll make sure the prince knows how great you are.”
“Sounds good.”
“Oh, let’s hit the Belaknai barrier tomorrow. The girls next door say there’s a node to the outside. I miss fields. Nice, right? No enemy ships sneaking up on land.”
In the dark, Myuko’s pupils narrowed to slits. “…Sounds perfect.”


“Myuko, please come back!” Mia’s swollen hands pounded the isolation chamber’s window, her frail frame useless against it, tears streaming. “Take my points, I don’t want to be consort! They’re yours, just don’t leave me!”
“No.” Myuko shook her head, activating the node, locking the passage from outside. “I have to find the relic. It’s our only shot.”
“Why, Myuko?” Mia collapsed, sobbing hoarsely. “Is being consort that important?”
“He doesn’t even know me.” Myuko gave a bitter smile. “Marrying a stranger for points is absurd, don’t you think? But you, Mia—chasing points isn’t fair to you or him.”
“Then why… Oh, I get it. Let’s run away together, forget points. I just want you. Back to the countryside, just us. Please, I’ll do anything.”
“Really? Then stick with the prince. I can tell he’s into you.” Myuko waved without looking back. “I’m counting on you to keep me, with the surviving prince.”


The church’s stained-glass windows cast kaleidoscopic light, bathing the cat-eared girl’s tall frame as she vanished into the glow. Her green eyes wary, she clutched the Blazing Sun shard, its vibrations intensifying, guiding her deeper.
A week ago, the shard began trembling—unprecedented in Myuko’s experience. A relic that shed annually, nearly every beastman had a shard. Such a reaction couldn’t have gone unnoticed before. Too lucky, catching it now. Was the Dark Moon’s seal loosening, or was someone moving it? She’d soon know.
“Mia, you’re keeping me.” Myuko smirked inwardly, her green eyes glinting slyly. An enchanted earring, holding a duplication spell, might prove useful, but magic obeyed physics—no duplicating relics. The church, like the town, seemed abandoned, but Myuko stayed vigilant, her heels silent on marble, creeping forward, the shard’s vibrations her only sound.
Sensing something off, she scanned her surroundings. Finding no movement, she pressed a loose wall brick, revealing a hidden storage room with crates and clutter. Instinct told her the relic wasn’t here, but magical fluctuations piqued her interest. A magic necklace? She frowned at its absurd secondary effect, silently mocking human oddities. Still, mental attack immunity was strong. Rick’s kingdom was minor, but their bishop was supposedly a living saint. Sneaking into his turf risked detection—or worse, brainwashing into Holy Light devotion. Better safe than sorry. She donned the necklace, musing if a saint might leave relics. Could a giant candle replace the Blazing Sun?
Cautiously leaving the storage, she moved to close the hidden door when the shard vibrated violently, nearly slipping from her grip. Her pupils contracted, tracing the shard’s direction to fresh scuff marks on the marble floor.


“Should’ve known.” Myuko stared blankly at the mountain before her.
Beneath the church, in a cavern larger than Bilina, a lone peak rose dozens of meters in the center. As she approached, the mountain quivered, emitting a monotone hum in the dead air. Endless Dark Moon shards, drawn by her Blazing Sun shard, resonated in harmony.
She should’ve known. The Blazing Sun reborn in fire; why wouldn’t its twin, the Dark Moon, shed too—perhaps monthly? A century’s loss left this vast debris unsurprising. Twin relics attracted each other; their remnants would too. Assuming this was progress was overly optimistic.
Myuko’s green eyes gazed unfocused at the peak. Above, the high ceiling bore an apocalyptic sight: writhing skeletons clung tightly, climbing over those ahead, restraining those beneath, only to be bound by those behind. Layer upon layer, bone encircling bone, they formed a ten-meter-wide cage of remains. Beneath the Holy Light church, atop Dark Moon shards, an evil creation born of pure slaughter.
A prison of countless tormented souls, it held a saint’s relic, too compassionate to weep lest its tears harm the unredeemed. A crude hole, the size of a skull, had been gouged at the cage’s base, yet the shattered remains still clung, binding a relic long gone.
The Dark Moon was lost, and Myuko’s kin remained trapped by dark sorcery.




Chapter 4: The Cycle of Blood and Hatred
The altar’s candlelight flickered, a faint magical aura permeating the air. The tight nun’s habit hugged Sherry’s curvaceous figure, her bare arms, abdomen, and thighs tensing, muscle lines sharply defined. The Holy Light nun deftly drew her defensive weapon from her thigh strap, blue eyes flashing unease, warily scanning her surroundings. The high-slit skirt didn’t hinder her long legs’ movement, the side ties of her black panties sinking into her groin with each hip shift. Muffling her high heels’ clacks, the girl cautiously searched the church, sensing an elusive, icy gaze, yet finding no one in sight.
In the shadows of a suspended beam, ample breasts pressed against the hiding spot, white-stockinged legs kneeling on the wooden beam, bare thigh roots brushing a taut, flat abdomen, silken honeyed skin slick with a thin sheen of sweat. Luna’s purple eyes coldly monitored the nun’s every move. She hadn’t expected the human to sense something amiss so quickly, but the dark elf’s mission remained unchanged. The Moon of No Light was no longer here, and she couldn’t lose her chance to restore her nation, lest her kin face another millennium of sunless exile. The nun left behind surely orchestrated the relic’s transfer. Gripping her mithril dagger tightly, Luna resolved to extract the Moon’s whereabouts or search for clues on her corpse. When humans and beastmen destroyed the elves’ homeland, condemning Luna’s kin to a millennium of death and suffering, this blood feud became irreconcilable. Death was a merciful release for humans; she hoped hell would torment them further to repay their endless debt.
In the church corridor, a hidden door opened, revealing untransferred supplies scattered about. Sherry inspected them, noting a missing item—only an enchanted necklace matching the one on her neck was gone. “A stray refugee? Unlikely,” she muttered, answering herself. Slipping on a ring, its intricate floral engravings glowing faintly under her black silk gloves, Sherry drifted briefly: “If only that child had worn it…” Snapping back, she regained her guard, hoping the ring’s rebound magic would prove useful.
Hearing a noise from the corridor, Sherry nimbly slipped into the shadows of a warehouse corner, spotting a figure staggering from the relic storage basement.
Prominent breasts, a slender waist, and wide, rounded hips formed a voluptuous, sensual silhouette. A fitted, sleeveless white cheongsam clung to her ample figure, a large chest opening secured by red knots, framing firm peaks and deep cleavage. Continuous diamond cutouts bared a flat abdomen, the high-slit skirt revealing plump hips and thighs, an orange panty tie with a delicate bow hanging obliquely on her hip, supported by rounded buttocks. Slender legs in orange thigh-high stockings dragged high heels slowly from the basement.
A beautiful, adorable girl—why here? Before Sherry could ponder, she froze in horror as sunlight revealed the figure’s face. Waist-length orange hair framed a delicate, refined face, but atop her head, a pair of fluffy orange cat ears drooped unmistakably.
A fiery night, screams and wails unending. In a wooden crate, a petite girl comforted a boy: “Don’t be afraid, sister’s here. It’s a nightmare; it’ll end soon.” The boy’s parents clung to the crate, but through the slats, the girl saw horned demons, beast-eared figures, and dark-skinned monsters stabbing corpses tirelessly, ensuring no survivors. A blade pierced the crate, aimed at her forehead, viscous, iron-scented fluid dripping, staining her face red.
“Hus, survivors!” A weary voice broke through the dawn, piercing the blood-soaked crate.
A black-robed man discarded his bloodied monk’s robe, wrapping the two children in his tattered white shirt, holding them to his broad chest, whispering hoarsely, gently: “Children, cry.”
But tears saved nothing. The nightmare had persisted ten years. In the dead of night, Sherry’s closed eyes returned to that merciless, fiery night. She couldn’t forget the beast ears twitching in demonic mockery as a sword thrust toward her.
“What do I do?” The beastman’s murmur snapped Sherry back, her chest heaving, bare skin misted with sweat, cold perspiration streaming.
Without hesitation, Sherry silently followed the retreating beastman into the church hall, concealing herself behind a pillar near a side door, gripping her obsidian dagger, knuckles whitening under black silk gloves.
White hair flowing, Luna cautiously peered down the corridor, noting the human darting to the hall’s side door and stopping. The nun had lingered in the relic chamber—perhaps the Moon of No Light was still here. Ensuring no one watched, Luna glided into the open warehouse, her slender heels grazing the marble floor, faint clicks fading swiftly. As always, her luck was poor—no trace of the Moon. Her bronze breasts quivered as she sighed, picking up a necklace. A magical item? Nice find, with a second effect, though heavily restricted. Considering a possible failed ambush and direct clash with the nun—Holy Light users often wielded mental rituals—Luna didn’t hesitate, slipping the necklace onto her slender neck. Like a phantom, she darted to the side door, pressing her back to the frame, her full breasts squeezing, straining to escape her tight leather corset, their deep V revealing proud flesh and captivating cleavage. Her gauzy skirt bared a slender, arched waist, accentuating her abs, her hips pressing the wall, soft buttocks peeking beneath the hem, purple eyes fixed on the nun behind the pillar, her body equally tense.
Dazed, Myuko staggered through the hall. She could neither save Junlin nor aid her displaced kin. Mia, too… No, she couldn’t give up. The hidden passage was recently opened, the sealed cave freshly drilled—they hadn’t gone far! Shaking off despair, the beast-eared girl rallied, straightening, and charged toward the corridor. There must be clues she’d missed. Suddenly, a faint sulfur scent wafted. Myuko instantly crouched, green pupils contracting, body tensing, orange silk-gloved arms crossing her chest, hands reverse-gripping daggers, cat ears perking toward the door. A demon already? A skilled hider, but they misjudged the room’s complex airflow, choosing the upwind spot, reversing hunter and prey. Perfect—become a sacrifice for my kin’s return.
The crisp clack of heels couldn’t match her speed. Myuko surged to the door, her agate dagger targeting Luna. Simultaneously, seeing the beastman assume a combat stance, Sherry knew she was exposed, her heart jolting, blue eyes blazing with fury. Her heels slammed the floor, obsidian dagger slashing at Myuko. At the same moment, Luna, poised to strike, saw the human arm herself, realizing she’d been spotted, purple eyes flashing with killing intent. Her white-stockinged legs braced against the wall, heels kicking the frame, propelling her from the corner, mithril dagger stabbing at Sherry.




Chapter 5: Stripped Bare by Two Beautiful Enemies
Two enemies!
Stunned by the sudden assault, the three women quickly adapted, their daggers clashing in a shower of sparks.
Sherry’s obsidian dagger thrust at Myuko’s slender waist, her right arm parrying Luna’s mithril blade. Spinning, she deflected her foes’ weapons, her high heels arcing as her left knee slammed toward Luna. Her nun’s habit flared, revealing plump buttocks and black silk panties.
Luna’s dagger, aimed at Sherry’s chest, was pushed aside. Her toned abdomen flexed, twisting her waist as she sidestepped Sherry’s knee, retracting her blade to block Myuko’s agate dagger. Her full breasts quivered violently. Luna struck again, targeting Myuko’s abdomen as they brushed past.
Myuko’s attack thwarted by Luna, she tucked her orange-silk legs, her heel grazing Sherry’s obsidian dagger. Twirling midair, she swung one arm to deflect Luna’s strike, the other slashing at Sherry’s face.
Sherry dropped to one knee, then leaned back nearly flat, spinning to dodge Myuko’s agate dagger. She slashed horizontally at Luna’s white-silk arm.
Midair, Luna spun, retracting her upper arm to block Sherry’s strike behind her, her lower arm bracing the floor. She pivoted sideways, evading Sherry’s range, her sharp heel kicking toward Myuko.
Myuko curled her body, minimizing her target, crossing her daggers to block Luna’s attack. Using the force, she leaped back, landing in a guarded stance.
In the Holy Light hall, the three women distanced themselves, resuming their postures. The brief clash revealed their mutual enmity, prompting a wary pause. Amid their standoff, only their heaving breasts rose and fell with labored breaths.
“Why use dark sorcery to imprison us?” Myuko broke the silence, her green eyes blazing with murderous intent, glaring at Sherry.
“Sorcery? Beasts dare judge the Holy Light? Your barbaric minds know only slaughter!” Hatred seethed in Sherry’s blue eyes.
“Beastmen,” Myuko growled, gripping her dagger tighter. “Don’t compare us to those animalistic beasts. Oh, animals are better than humans—they don’t hide their massacres.”
“Baseless slander from a lying butcher!” Sherry’s black-stockinged thighs tensed, ready to charge. “You’ll find nothing here but the Holy Light’s judgment.”
“Your blood will be my sacrifice…” Myuko’s gloved arms bulged with muscle, but before she finished—
“Where’s the Moon of No Light?” Luna demanded loudly. She could ignore the human-beastman feud; only her nation’s restoration mattered. Past vengeance could wait. “Tell me, and I’ll help you.”
“Silence, demon’s lapdog!” Myuko’s icy roar cut in, one dagger now aimed at the dark elf. “I won’t hear a word from you. Your blood will honor my kin slaughtered by demons.”
“I’ll kill her for you—tell me where the Moon is.” Luna turned to Sherry, only to find the nun’s dagger already targeting her.
“Your divisive tricks won’t work. I’ve seen too many of your lies, plundering, and killing.” Sherry saw through their ploy: invade to force the town’s evacuation, then seize the relic in the chaos. She had to stall them here. If the convoy was found—Shawn, the children, the townsfolk—the consequences were unthinkable. “Cunning elf, not even the Holy Light can cleanse your filth. Let this be your grave. Atone!”
“Damn it!” Luna raised her dagger, cursing, aiming at both foes. How foolish to hope for parley with those who razed her nation and enslaved her kin. The suffering, the pain, the humiliation—caused by them. Why believe a stalemate could lead to truce? She sought escape, but they only schemed to devour her utterly. Humans and beastmen were moral-less plagues, the root of this dark world, obstacles to her restoration. “You all deserve to die!”
Fury unleashed, the dark elf charged. The battle erupted, human and beastman lunging at their foes.
Luna’s mithril dagger stabbed at Sherry’s chest, her right arm blocking Myuko’s agate blade. Rolling, she dodged Sherry’s follow-up knee, rising to kick Myuko’s plump buttocks, only for Myuko to evade. Luna dropped into a split to avoid Myuko’s counter overhead, but her vigorous motion tore her tight skirt an inch, exposing honeyed buttocks beneath white silk panties.
Myuko arched to dodge Luna’s kick, thrusting her dagger at Luna while parrying Sherry’s obsidian blade with her right arm. Her cat ears twitched as she leaped, evading Sherry’s sweeping leg. Midair, she twisted to block Luna’s blade from behind, her taut waist flexing wildly, stretching her cheongsam. The diamond cutouts gave way, splitting along her pale abdomen, baring vast swathes of flat, white skin.
Sherry sidestepped Myuko’s agate dagger, slashing at Luna’s waist, but Myuko’s elbow forced her to flip backward. She countered, stabbing at Myuko’s abdomen, barely blocking Luna’s flank attack, then rolled to stabilize. Her breasts swayed violently, her nun’s habit tearing under their strain, splitting at the ribs, half-exposing her underbust.
The battle raged, the three women fighting for their lives, daggers sparking, bodies tumbling, sweat flying. Sherry’s golden hair tangled, her habit torn to her ribs, her full breasts swaying, fabric barely covering her nipples, sweat tracing her curves with lascivious sheen. Her obsidian dagger aimed for Myuko’s throat. Myuko leaned back, her cheongsam’s chest ties severed, her massive breasts half-bared, swaying freely, the torn fabric stretching from chest to lower abdomen, barely shielding her privates, her white body nearly nude. Myuko’s orange-stockinged thighs tensed, her bent calf kicking at Luna’s abdomen. Luna’s white hair flew as she dodged, but her side caught the heel, tearing a strip of gauze. Her corset hung by threads, her waist and abdomen fully exposed, her skirt split to her waist, honeyed buttocks quivering, clad only in white stockings and panties. Luna’s mithril dagger grazed Sherry’s chest, adding a white gash to her strained habit.
The deadly dance continued, daggers targeting vitals, each facing two foes, barely parrying in time. Luna’s dagger grazed Myuko’s waist, tearing her cheongsam to her underbust, exposing her slender curves to her plump hips, her body fully revealed. Myuko’s agate dagger flashed, redirecting to Sherry’s abdomen. Sherry blocked, but the blade grazed her side, shredding the cross-shaped cutout, baring her taut abdomen’s lines. Simultaneously, Sherry’s obsidian dagger countered Luna’s thigh. Luna leaned back, but the blade caught her skirt’s other side, splitting it into rags, exposing her buttocks as her skirt became mere scraps, her lower body flashing with each move.
Their desperate fight spilled from the hall to the outdoors, the lingering mist framing the rugged spring rocking horse, now a nightmare stage for their lethal sexfight. Daggers clashed, sparks flew, bodies rolled, sweat dripped.
Sherry leaned back, Luna’s mithril dagger grazing her flat abdomen, but her chest couldn’t dodge. The last threads of her habit snapped, the black fabric falling away. Her full breasts spilled free, pink nipples erect. The human girl screamed in shame, trying to cover herself, but relentless attacks forced her flushed face to fight on, her nearly nude body—clad only in black panties, stockings, and gloves—battling, breasts bouncing.
Luna’s lethal strike at Myuko’s groin was countered by Sherry’s obsidian dagger flashing from the side. Myuko twisted, barely avoiding a fatal hit, but Sherry’s blade tore her cheongsam’s collar link, reducing it to a tattered white rag, sliding off the beastman’s body. Myuko’s massive breasts bared, pink nipples standing, she wailed in shame, shielding them with her arms, but ceaseless attacks forced her red-faced resistance. Her nude form—orange panties, stockings, and gloves—fought on, breasts bouncing, cat ears twitching.
Luna curled, arms defending, blocking both foes’ strikes, barely deflecting their daggers. But her corset’s last threads gave way under Myuko’s blade, and Sherry’s dagger snagged her skirt’s side, shredding it into scattered rags, stripping her bare. Her honeyed breasts bounced, red nipples exposed, her shame-filled cry futile as she shielded one breast only to expose the other. Under fiercer assaults, she fought, cheeks flushed, clad only in white panties, stockings, and gloves, her honeyed buttocks and breasts swaying.
Sherry parried Myuko’s attack, her breasts shaking from the impact, countering at Luna’s flank. Luna blocked, snarling, “Lustful nun! Those huge breasts jiggle like a whore’s! How many men have you serviced to get them that big?” Luna ducked, Myuko’s dagger grazing her breast, making it quiver. Sherry retorted, “Vile elf! That lewd body’s the real streetwalker’s! Selling yourself daily to look that slutty!” Sherry spun agilely, dodging Myuko’s dagger, her hips twisting, her heel nearly striking Myuko’s stomach. Myuko growled, “Human bitch! Your gyrating hips are nauseating! Your whole body needs a Holy Light beating!” Myuko lunged, her spinning body driving her arms, forcing Sherry back. Sherry snapped, “Beast slut! Baring your breasts and posing lewdly—cover up with your fur!” Before landing, Myuko deflected Luna’s mithril dagger, then saw Luna’s hips rise, her heel kicking at her. Myuko curled, countering with a kick, their heels clashing, both wincing. Myuko cried, “Filthy dark-skin! Just a hip-swaying slut, a demon’s cumdump—stay away!” Luna staggered back, barely stabilizing before Myuko closed in, blocking her close-range strikes, her eyes filled with Myuko’s bouncing white breasts. Retreating, she cursed, “Shameless barbarian! Those vulgar tits flopping—you a cow? Don’t spray milk on me!”




Chapter 6: A Trap for Voluptuous Hips and Ample Breasts
Luna’s mithril dagger thrust at Myuko’s chest. Myuko sidestepped, her agate dagger countering at Luna’s throat. Luna leaned back, retreating. Suddenly, a blow struck Myuko’s thigh from behind, toppling her backward. Screaming, she crashed into the rocking horse’s seat, legs splayed, breasts swaying, her white panties digging into her slit, striking a lewd pose. Luna’s purple eyes teared up, humiliated, her naked honeyed body struggling to rise. The polished seat pressed her plump buttocks, its thin edges buried under her overflowing flesh, her arms flailing for leverage.
Myuko moved to pursue the trapped Luna, but a shadow loomed. She blocked Sherry’s obsidian dagger with her right arm, her cat ears twitching, her waist tensing as she kneed the approaching Sherry. Sherry, her dagger thwarted, clenched her hips, kicking fiercely. A dull thud echoed as their knees collided. Unbalanced, Myuko screamed, collapsing into the rocking horse.
Luna, struggling to rise, saw Myuko’s orange body hurtling toward her. She slid aside, watching Myuko crash into the seat, breasts bouncing, legs spread, her thin orange panties digging into her privates, exposing pink flesh at the edges, a depraved sight. Before Luna could smirk, agony seared her groin. Screaming, she realized the seat, spacious for one, was now cramped with their voluptuous hips. The edges squeezed their buttocks, forcing their pubic bones to clash, their sensitive slits grinding through panties, excruciating. Struck in her privates, Luna collapsed back into the seat, drained.
Enduring the pain, Myuko’s green eyes shimmered with shameful tears, struggling to rise. Her left thigh caught in the seat’s groove, pinned by Luna’s full thigh, their writhing bodies causing relentless collisions, unbearable. Myuko wailed, “Stinking elf! Get off! Let me up!” Luna, wracked with pain and humiliated by Myuko’s struggles, snapped at her curse, purple eyes blazing, “Dead beast! Move your filthy crotch—stop grinding me, you pervert!”
As they braced for another verbal clash, both froze, watching Sherry limp closer, her obsidian dagger gleaming.
Seeing her foes trapped, Sherry’s blue eyes flashed with a sneer. Foolish sinners deserved the most humiliating punishment—death in a children’s toy. Pity, the kids would need a new plaything.
Ignoring her knee’s pain, Sherry approached, mercilessly swinging her blade at her foes. A crisp ding rang out as Luna and Myuko’s weapons blocked simultaneously. Before Sherry could react, kicks from both sides struck her buttocks.
“Ah, no!” Screaming, Sherry pitched forward, collapsing onto the trapped pair. Luna and Myuko, spared and ready to escape, regretted kicking Sherry’s rear, watching her crash toward them, immobilized. They shrieked, “No!” “Stop!” Their six ample breasts collided, flattening into pancakes, springing back round in their pained cries. Sherry’s buttocks landed in the rocking horse, jamming into the seat, legs splayed, breasts bouncing, black panties digging into her slit, pink flesh peeking out, the holy nun in a lascivious pose.
With Sherry’s hips wedged in, the seat’s space was filled, their voluptuous buttocks squeezing together, locked in the rocking horse. The edges pressed their pliant flesh, round hips overflowing with red welts. Their stocking-clad thighs fell into the seat’s grooves, pinned by their foes’ legs: Luna’s right thigh over Myuko’s left, her left pinned by Sherry’s right, Sherry’s left trapped under Myuko’s right. Pressed together, their bare thigh roots locked, forcing their legs apart. Crammed in the tight space, their pubic bones clashed, tender slits grinding through panties, pain and tingling surging, their screams unending.
Their violent play overloaded the spring, causing the rocking horse to buck wildly, jolting the girls, intensifying their groin collisions, pain and maddening tingles flooding them.
Desperate to escape, the teary-eyed girls struggled, their naked, sensual bodies pressed together, facing each other. Inevitably, their six massive breasts collided, nipples dueling, refusing to yield escape. They crushed each other’s proud mounds, flattening them into pancakes spilling from their armpits. Gasping for breath, they aimed to overpower their foes and break free. But the rocking horse’s jolts forced their sensual bodies to grind, slits rubbing through panties, electric pleasure overwhelming their virgin nerves.
Sherry’s blue eyes teared, her slit grinding against Myuko and Luna’s lips, pleasure surging, gasping, “Aah… don’t touch me! Your vile cunts are obscene!” Luna’s purple eyes blazed with shame, her breasts clashing with Sherry and Myuko’s pale mounds, nipples tingling, shrieking, “Aah… get off! Your rotten tits make me sick!” Myuko’s green eyes burned with humiliation, her thighs pressed against Luna and Sherry’s full legs, heat unbearable, crying, “Aah… get up! Your filthy legs are disgusting!” Their cheeks flushed, sweat poured, saliva dripped, stifling moans, their throats emitting pained “mmph” sounds, shame and pleasure entwined.
They clung to their weapons, hands slashing daggers at vital points, fighting hand-to-hand in the cramped space. Sherry’s obsidian dagger stabbed at Luna’s chest, her right arm blocking Myuko’s agate blade, leaning back to distance her torso, breasts swaying, but her slit pressed closer, lips grinding harder, gasping shamefully, “Aah… sluts! Stop rubbing me!” Luna’s mithril dagger aimed at Myuko’s throat, her right arm parrying Sherry’s blade, arching back, honeyed breasts bouncing, her slit grinding both foes’ lips, crying, “Aah… perverts! Get off!” Myuko’s agate dagger targeted Sherry’s head, her right arm blocking Luna’s blade, cat ears twitching, breasts bouncing, her slit grinding, shrieking, “Aah… bastards! Don’t touch me!”
The rocking horse bucked, their thin silk panties shifting, the colored straps tangling and sliding aside, exposing their tender lips, love juices flooding, slits merging. Unobstructed, their lips kissed, clits clashing, electric pleasure surging, fluids gushing.
This intimate contact became mutual violation, their eyes teary, cheeks flushed, stifling moans, desperate to escape. But their sensual bodies, bound by each other’s lewd flesh, forced nude forms into depraved combat, tingling sensations trembling their bodies, minds fogging. Yet hatred grew, their killing intent vowing to slay their foes, escaping this lascivious cage.
Amid humiliation and pleasure, the fight raged. Sherry’s obsidian dagger grazed Luna’s breast, making her honeyed mound quiver, screaming in shame, “Lewd nun! Only filthy moves, utterly shameless!” Luna’s mithril dagger nicked Myuko’s shoulder, her massive breasts swaying, crying, “Vile elf! All low blows, disgusting!” Myuko’s agate dagger aimed at Sherry’s neck, Sherry dodging, her breasts bouncing, gasping, “Shameless barbarian! Just groin attacks, you pervert!” Their upper bodies battled fiercely, daggers targeting vitals, barely parried, breasts colliding, nipples rubbing, erotic pleasure and killing intent entwined, shame and fear intensifying.
Meanwhile, their lower bodies grew lewder. Amid the rocking horse’s jolts and struggles, defying their will, their groins grew intimate. Myuko’s lips passionately kissed Luna and Sherry’s, thick petals licking, wet sloshing as fluids swayed. Luna’s clit tangled erotically with Sherry and Myuko’s, swollen clits tormenting their foes’ sensitive spots while tortured in turn. Sherry’s slit merged passionately with Myuko and Luna’s, deep vaginal openings sucking, lewd slaps of flesh trembling their sensitive bodies, igniting orgasmic fireworks in their minds.
Erotic pleasure cut like a blade, their bodies trembling, sweat pouring, cheeks flushed, stifling moans, pained “mmph” sounds escaping, shameful tears glaring at each other. Realizing upper-body defenses were impenetrable, attacks shifted downward. Sherry’s obsidian and Myuko’s agate daggers targeted Luna’s flat abdomen, blocked by her mithril blade. Sherry’s toned abdomen faced Myuko’s agate and Luna’s mithril daggers, sparks flying. Myuko’s defined abs countered Luna’s mithril and Sherry’s obsidian blades. Under death’s threat, their abdomens tensed, abs defined, narrow navels trembling, but trapped by the seat and foes’ bodies, their defenseless bellies lay exposed to lethal strikes. Worse, their proud breasts blocked their view, unable to counter the looming threat, forcing desperate parries against daggers aimed at their abdomens while frenziedly attacking their foes’ vulnerable bellies.
In this desperate, erotic gut-wrenching battle, blades grazed abdomens, slicing abs, tips piercing navels, sweat flying. The rocking horse’s jolts intensified, slits grinding, lips kissing, clits dueling like swords, fluids gushing. The girls knew defeat meant not just death but the crushing of their pride, their sensual bodies humiliated in this lewd contest, stripped of feminine dignity. Killing intent surged, the fight growing brutal, death threats and humiliating pleasure entwined, their minds nearing collapse. Sinking into erotic despair, shameful tears glared, gasps and screams echoing across the square.
“Aah… I’ll never tell you the relic’s… aah… whereabouts! Even defiling my body won’t make me speak… mmh-aah… go die!”
“Pay… aah… the dark elves’ blood debt first. Violating me… mmh-aah… won’t change your fate… aah… I’ll kill you!”
“Aah… your blood’s for my… mmh-aah… kin! Defile… aah… me, I won’t yield… hah-aah… die, evil things… aah!”
Three stunning beauties, bearing missions of protection, restoration, and redemption, were locked in the rocking horse’s iron basin, their colored stocking-clad legs pinning each other, tender lips and sensitive clits grinding, forced to fight for their lives in this lascivious trap, daggers sparking, death looming. Tears, saliva, and sweat pooled in their cleavages, sliding over abdomens, seeping into privates. Sherry, Luna, and Myuko’s sodden slits ground against each other, tormented, tongues lolling, saliva dripping, breasts bouncing, bodies trembling. The rocking horse bucked, endless tingling pleasure unrelenting, their flushed cheeks succumbing to shame and fear, sinking into despair.




Chapter 7: Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Method, Most Thrilling Outcome
“Aahhh!”
Once again, Sherry, Luna, and Myuko, three beautiful, sensual girls, harmonized in a pulse-pounding, lascivious symphony of moans.
No, it was too much. Myuko tried repeatedly to lift herself from the seat, but Luna’s thigh pinned her, and the relentless grinding of Sherry and Luna’s slits against her tender slit forced her back, overwhelmed by merciless mutual violation, driven to climax by endless pleasure.
Myuko’s strength to escape waned, her orange-gloved arms faltering, unable to grip her agate dagger, hope of fighting fading. Pleasure exploded like fireworks in her mind, her brain a mush of ecstasy, unable to think. She’d die like this. She had to use the earring’s duplication spell to turn the tide. Weapons couldn’t be swung, the terrain trapped her, bodies couldn’t be fully duplicated, and props were absent—nothing useful. What else? Her dazed, white-rolled green eyes flashed with resolve. If her foes succumbed first, she’d win.
Fighting the pleasure engulfing her will, Myuko activated the earring’s spell, targeting either foe’s clit—Luna or Sherry, it didn’t matter. Sherry’s lifeless blue eyes caught Myuko’s move. She was dying, couldn’t let her escape. Her pleasure-fried mind acted, her ring’s faint glow triggering its rebound spell.
Luna’s purple eyes flashed with ruthlessness as the magical glow hit. She was done, but they’d die too. Her pleasure-clogged mind, relying on muscle memory, activated the hairpin’s rope spell, golden cords shimmering, binding her target.
The rebounded duplication spell struck Myuko’s clit, hitting their fused slits, its enhanced waves affecting all three clits. Instantly, each clit split into two, doubled sensitive nerves grinding foes’ doubled clits while their own dual clits rubbed together, pleasure like lightning coursing through their trembling bodies. Worse, the rope spell’s range exceeded expectations, binding all three girls’ arms behind their backs, their sensual bodies lashed together, forced upright, facing each other. Their massive breasts crushed into pancakes, blocking breath, swollen nipples—hard and sensitive—pierced each other like swords, bending, sparking sharp pain, itching, and pleasure.
Facing the sudden magical chaos, their fogged minds flushed, mouths gaping, unable to moan, suffocated by breast compression and pain, their doubled clits’ pleasure sending them to climax. Their bound, twitching bodies turned sensitive parts into mutual torment, sparking fiercer pleasure, forcing continuous climaxes to their peak, silent wails escaping, fluids from three sources streaming, their minds fading, the three beauties collapsing, tormented into unconsciousness.
The rocking horse’s spring exhausted, slowing to a stop, their bodies ceasing to jolt, a brief peace settling. Sunlight pierced the mist, illuminating the square’s rocking horse, casting light on three naked, sensual forms. Sherry’s golden hair tangled, Luna’s white hair sprawled, Myuko’s orange hair scattered, their closed eyes twitching uneasily, tormented in nightmares. Their swollen slits ached, dual clits red and engorged, lips slick and sticky, fluids dripping, breasts and abdomens streaked with sweat and squirt, utterly spent. The ropes still bound their bodies, breasts crushed, lips kissing, dual clits pressed, pleasure currents shocking them.
After an unknown time, they stirred, opening eyes to their foes’ loathsome, beautiful faces inches away, their bodies embraced by two enemy girls’ nude forms, despair clouding their gazes. Cheeks flushed, tears streaming, they struggled to break free. Sherry thrashed, her breasts shaking, their six mounds rising and falling, her black panty strap sliding aside, exposed lips grinding Luna and Myuko’s, tormented by their friction, crying, “Aah… mmph!” Luna writhed, her pink nipples piercing Sherry and Myuko’s, her white panty strap pushed aside, engorged dual clits stimulating and tormented by both foes, shrieking, “Mmh… eek!” Myuko’s cat ears twitched, her hips twisting, her full thighs sinking into Sherry and Luna’s roots, her orange panty strap displaced, her bare slit grinding both foes, violating them but violated in turn, gasping, “Hah… aah!” Their struggles rocked the horse, intensifying slit and breast pain and pleasure. Recalling the fear of endless climaxes, they halted, dreading the friction, Sherry biting her lip, Luna shrieking, Myuko panting, helplessly enduring their bodies’ lascivious entanglement, praying the spring stopped before another climax.
Yet the spring seemed inexhaustible, the rocking horse’s prolonged swaying forcing their mutual sexfight, tormenting each other. Endless pleasure drained their shattered wills, inevitably driving them to multiple climaxes, but the trauma of continuous orgasms made them spare each other, enduring the violations without resisting, avoiding intensifying the rocking. In the slowing jolts, they found brief respite. But their bound bodies remained locked, none knowing how to undo the spell, forcing the teary-eyed girls to glare in humiliated enmity.
“Hmph, you’ll never catch the relic now,” Sherry finally spoke, resolute. Holy Light devotees were ready to die for righteousness; being bound with enemies was the ultimate shame. “Your evil schemes are doomed. Surrender now—the Holy Light is merciful to its foes, sparing you further pain.”
“So, the Moon of No Light was moved?” Luna’s purple eyes glinted slyly, mind racing. “Less than a day, and you’re sure we can’t catch it—means the destination’s close. A rushed transfer needs a rendezvous. The nearest hub is Lorni.” She smirked. “Dumb nun, thanks for the leak. Get out of my way—catching your sluggish convoy’s easy.”
“You!” Sherry’s anger turned to shame, her eyes betraying panic. “You’ll never reach the guard. I’ll die before letting you leave.”
“So it is Lorni.” Myuko’s cat ears twitched, sneering. “Perfect. Days ago, Lorni’s defenses were empty, likely sent to the front as cannon fodder. Stupid human, you’re probably the last fighter here. Humans always do this—war starts, and everyone but priests and taxmen dies. Knowing the direction’s enough. I’ll torture you to death, sacrifice you for my imprisoned kin, then head to Lorni, grab the Dark Moon. Those half-trained, weak, sick, old, and young are no threat.”
“Never!” Sherry fumed, unable to quell her fear. “I’ll defeat you here, protect Lorni.”
“So you’re the only fighter.” Luna sighed. “Lousy luck, running into you.”
Furious, Sherry opened her mouth, speechless, eyes blazing, likely enraged by Luna and Myuko’s baiting.
“One problem left,” Myuko’s eyes narrowed, killing intent rising, gazing complexly at Luna. “Dead elf, want to be tortured to death in this backwater?”
“Hmph, you, stinking beastman? Bet your brain’s as vulgar as those tits,” Luna retorted, enduring intense itching, pain, and pleasure, nudging her foes’ firm breasts, making Myuko and Sherry wince. “You’ll be the one tortured. Beg now—your lewd body’s wasted not whoring. Beastgirls and nuns fetch a price among demons. Should I spare you there?”
“Heh, dead elf, with that slutty look?” Myuko fought the intense pleasure and orgasmic urges, thrusting her slit, her dual clits piercing Luna and Sherry’s four, grinding their sodden slits, making them gasp, saliva dripping, their crushed breasts glistening lewdly. “Depravity’s in your bones. Surrender, be my slave. Fighting’s a waste of that skin. Atone with your lewd body in Baiston’s brothels—a few years, and your looks’ll buy freedom.”
Provoking each other, Myuko and Luna traded barbs, neither wanting escalation. The pleasure hell left deep scars, and endless climaxes could kill. No matter the hatred, neither wanted their legacy to be nude, orgasming to death with women. Begging or fleeing violated their principles, but softening offered a way out, escaping the sexfight trap.
“Such big breasts and hips, pity not to play with,” Luna tested cautiously, avoiding the Moon of No Light, planning to lure them off and ambush. “Don’t waste them here. Get off, girls playing together’s no fun.”
“Some self-awareness—not just big-breasted and brainless,” Myuko mused, swallowing pride to bide time, planning to kill them once free. “Your call—undo the ropes first. First meetings shouldn’t be so… clingy. Want more, let’s build rapport.”
But they overlooked a fatal flaw: the blind zeal of humans.
“Vile beast, treacherous demon, daring to scheme before the Holy Light!” Sherry’s icy voice doused their fleeting dreams of survival. “Stealing relics, attacking cities, defiling the church, public debauchery, coerced prostitution—all sins of the Holy Light. Your deaths aren’t enough! I can’t kill you more, but let your lust-tainted, sinful bodies suffer eternal punishment! Never leave!”
“Hey! No, I didn’t mean actual prostitution…” Luna stammered.
“Huh? Wait, aren’t you in on the debauchery…” Myuko protested, horrified.
No chance for evil creatures to exploit, their filthy words only swayed Holy Light devotees’ minds. Only endless suffering could purify sin.
Eyes closed, Sherry twisted her waist, riding toward Luna and Myuko, violently rocking the horse beneath.
Moans and gasps erupted, trembling bodies colliding, lips crushing, fluids splashing.
Bound by golden ropes, arms tied behind, their bodies pressed together, breasts flattened, nipples buried in flesh, dual clits and lips kissing, fluids streaming. The rocking horse bucked, their voluptuous hips squeezing the seat’s edges, red welts forming, bare thigh roots locking, their colored stocking-clad legs twitching from pleasure. Sweat traced abs, seeping into privates, fluids soaking breasts and abdomens, sweat dripping, bodies convulsing.
Aahhh, their moans intertwined, squirts converging, done for—this time, they’d truly die.




Chapter 8: Don’t Eat Strangers’ Food
Realizing the lascivious fight was inescapable, the girls shed tears of shame but had to embrace the erotic reality. Myuko, Luna, and Sherry began actively twisting their waists, engaging in full-body combat, stifling pleasure while striving to humiliate their two foes, forcing them to climax, all while being violated by both opponents, driven to orgasm in this depraved, desperate sexfight.
Amid frequent climaxes, Luna’s fogged consciousness noticed her foes’ unfocused gazes on her shoulder. A wriggling, slimy meat chunk crawled from her shoulder bag, its nauseating surface making Sherry and Myuko grimace, their gasps tinged with disgust.
“Eat it raw to restore stamina—you’d be a real man!” Recalling Gulu’s words, Luna, on the brink of mental and physical collapse, had no choice. For the dark elves, she suppressed her revulsion, leaning to consume the meat, her cherry lips nearing, her tongue brushing its sticky surface. Shocked by Luna’s repulsive act, Sherry and Myuko realized she was using a recovery item. Overcoming disgust, they lunged for the meat between Luna’s lips, their cherry lips colliding.
Mmph… aah… hiss… mmh…
Their heads pressed together, they stole each other’s first kisses, tongues entwining, vying for the meat in a lascivious tongue-kiss battle. Their struggles intensified the rocking horse’s sway, forcing their sensitive bodies into relentless combat.
Sherry’s cherry lips sucked the meat, her tongue licking Luna and Myuko’s plump lips, invading Luna’s mouth, entwining the meat with her tongue tip, saliva mingling with the sticky chunk. Her foes’ soft tongues wrapped around hers, pleasure surging, making her moan incessantly: “Aah… mmph! Hah… mmh!” Saliva dripped onto her massive breasts. Myuko’s soft lips nipped Sherry and Luna’s, her fragrant tongue probing their mouths, sucking their tips, striving for the meat, but their cherry lips’ kisses sparked desire, making her whimper: “Mmh… eek! Hah… aah!” Luna’s tongue reclaimed the wriggling meat, sucking Myuko and Sherry’s lips, her tip delving into their mouths, teasing their tongue roots, licking the meat, saliva and fluids entwining, her moans continuous: “Eek… hah! Aah… mmph!” Their lips sealed, deep kisses suffocating, cherry lips crushing, tongues tangling, drinking each other’s saliva. The meat, wrapped by three soft tongues, passed between their mouths. Whoever seized it faced immediate invasion by her foes’ tongues, the soft touch and raw, forceful kisses drowning them in pleasure, losing control, the battlefield shifting to another’s mouth, sticky fluid oozing from their lips, dripping onto their breasts.
Their breasts waged a fierce battle, six massive mounds squeezing and deforming, flesh clashing, forming three deep cleavage lines. Plump breast flesh rubbed stickily, advancing and retreating, the stalemate intense, sweat and fluids squirting from their cleavages. Swollen, red nipples scraped, sinking into areolas, itching, pain, and pleasure bursting like currents, connecting through breast collisions, coursing through their bodies, making them tremble.
Their upper mouths fought passionately, their lower mouths kissing lasciviously, lips and dual clits sucking ravenously, fluids sloshing like gushing springs. Pleasure fogged their minds, hips twisting actively, intensifying groin stimulation, forcing foes to climax while being tormented by both, erotic pleasure slicing their bodies, sparking mind-shattering shocks from brain to toes.
Climaxes came relentlessly, their eyes dazed, breasts trembling, lips spasming, dual clits twitching, fluids gushing like fountains, trickling down their colored stockings. Sherry whimpered, Luna wailed, Myuko panted, their moans stifled by deep kisses, choked in their throats, reduced to unwilling, desperate “mmph” sounds. Climaxing repeatedly, their naked bodies convulsed in embrace, fluids flowing, soaking each other, desperate moans rising and falling.
The passionate kiss-fight continued, tongues entwining, the meat melting under their sticky, heated struggle, its fluid flowing through their mouths. Ignoring the humiliation of stolen first kisses, they licked and swallowed each other’s saliva, erotically vying for scraps. Sherry’s full lips sucked Luna and Myuko’s tongues, saliva dripping. Luna’s soft tongue wrapped Sherry and Myuko’s lips, fluids spurting. Myuko’s tempting mouth licked Luna and Sherry’s corners, drool flowing. Saliva and fluids entwined, gasps, moans, and roars unending, stimulating their sensitive nerves, lust peaking.
The scraps vanished between their pressed lips, each equally sharing the nauseating meat. In their tongue-fight, none gained an edge, yet they continued deep kissing, shame, humiliation, and pleasure drowning their consciousness. They barely noticed the meat’s gradual effect, restoring stamina but intensifying their hatred and primal bodily urges, driving an endless, lascivious sexfight.
Sinking into kiss-fights, breast-fights, and groin-friction, they actively violated each other, forcing foes to climax while being humiliated to orgasm. Intense pleasure and shame brought relentless climaxes, fluids gushing, soaking their bodies, breasts, abdomens, and thighs glistening erotically. Gasps, muffled grunts, and fluid spurts intertwined.
The rocking horse bucked wildly, Sherry, Luna, and Myuko bound by golden ropes, their naked bodies pressed together. Sherry’s massive breasts crushed Luna’s honeyed mounds and Myuko’s pale ones, flesh flattening, sweat and fluids gurgling in their squeezed cleavages. Luna’s nipples stabbed Sherry and Myuko’s, bending under pressure, suddenly slipping to pierce sensitive areolas, pleasure exploding, fluids overflowing. Myuko’s hips twisted, swollen lips and dual clits passionately kissing Luna and Sherry’s, wet sloshing as fluids swayed. The fierce sexfight intensified the rocking, which in turn amplified the stimulation. Sherry’s dual clits, now penises, plunged into Luna and Myuko’s slits, tight walls squeezing. Luna’s clits stabbed Sherry and Myuko’s slits, causing vaginal spasms. Myuko’s clits pierced Luna and Sherry’s slits, triggering fluid gushes.
The rocking horse jolted, overwhelming pleasure drowning their consciousness. Struggling to endure, they prayed for their foes’ collapse. Their cherry lips pressed, tongues entwined, saliva dripping onto breasts, pleasure peaking, climax urges shattering their wills. Consciousness fogged, lips spasmed, slits contracted, dual clits twitched, squirts gushed like waterfalls, splashing breasts and abdomens, fluids trickling down stockings, desperate, lascivious moans stifled by sealed lips, reduced to unwilling, humiliated grunts.
In the climax’s afterglow, the seat trapped their plump hips, pinned thighs, and clashing slits locking their lower bodies, immobile. They collapsed backward, their naked, curvaceous torsos hanging limply outside the rocking horse, breasts swaying, sweat and fluids coating them.
Perhaps too much time passed, or their struggles were too fierce—the rope spell dissipated. Regaining consciousness, the dazed girls grabbed their daggers, resuming their desperate fight. Sherry’s obsidian dagger stabbed at Luna’s flat abdomen, Luna’s mithril dagger countered at Myuko’s slender waist, Myuko’s agate dagger aimed at Sherry’s navel, sparks flying, blades grazing abs, sweat splashing. Amid the stalemate, their slits collided, lips kissing, dual clits twitching, fluids sloshing. Daggers stabbed abdomens, too close to dodge, shame and pleasure entwined, tears glaring in the lethal sexfight, death’s fear gripping their hearts, bodies convulsing, juices gushing.
In the desperate sexfight, Sherry, Luna, and Myuko’s daggers clashed, blades slicing abdomens, abs tensing, navels trembling, sweat and fluids sliding into privates. Groin friction intensified, dual clits and lips colliding, pleasure like lightning trembling their bodies, fluids splashing.
Suddenly, Sherry’s blue eyes flashed with horror, feeling her dual clits—now penises—swelling, their rough texture stretching Luna and Myuko’s tight walls, pain and pleasure entwined. Luna’s purple eyes dazed, her dual penises inflating, pinched tightly in their slits, agony unbearable. Myuko’s green eyes blurred, cat ears twitching, her dual penises enlarging, squeezing Sherry and Luna’s walls, pain like blades. Daggers continued, tears glaring at Luna.
“Aah… demon’s lapdog! It’s… aah… your doing, isn’t it!” Sherry roared. “That vile meat… eek-aah… it’s sorcery!”
“Mmph… dark-skin! You’ve doomed us… aah!” Myuko screamed. “Don’t turn demon… aah… I’ll kill you!”
“You’d be a real man!” Luna’s purple eyes flashed panic, recalling Gulu’s words, cold sweat pouring. Was this it—a taboo that let women grow penises, experiencing male pleasure? The dark elf roared in fear: “Mmph… you stole it… aah… meant to rape you… aah… surrender… mmh… don’t lose your life and shame!”
Their clits slowly morphed into penises, thick and terrifying, swelling inside each other’s slits, threatening chastity. Sherry and Myuko’s hatred surged, blue and green eyes blazing. Sherry cried, “If you die… aah… still want to rape!” Myuko’s gaze iced, wailing, “Mmph… die!” Knowing communication was futile, their mad foes wouldn’t spare her, Luna’s hatred soared: “Aah… let you have it, deflowered and gutted… aah!”
Wielding daggers, they stabbed at foes’ abdomens, determined to kill and halt the clit mutation.
The battle raged, daggers sparking, blades grazing abdomens, sweat splashing, abs tensing, navels trembling. Groin friction continued, clits now finger-long penises, rough and horrifying. Sherry’s dual penises pierced Luna and Myuko’s slits, stretching virgin walls, agony unbearable. Luna’s dual penises plunged into Sherry and Myuko’s slits, thick rods stretching untouched walls, pain like blades. Myuko’s dual penises entered Sherry and Luna’s slits, pristine walls forced open, pain and pleasure entwined. Each slit was penetrated by two foes’ penises: Sherry’s slit stretched by Luna and Myuko’s, Luna’s by Sherry and Myuko’s, Myuko’s by Sherry and Luna’s. Their penises clashed with foes’ in tight slits, rough surfaces rubbing, pain like tearing. Sherry inwardly wept: Don’t penetrate me! My body’s for the Holy Light, for Shawn—please, don’t take my virginity! Luna screamed in her mind: Pull out! I haven’t restored my nation; my virginity could feed the kids—please, don’t deflower me! Myuko wailed mentally: Stop! I’m not married; losing my virginity means I can’t return to the sanctum to save Junlin—please, don’t take my first! Their bodies convulsed, fluids and sweat mingling, soaking breasts and abdomens, stockings glistening lasciviously. Tearful glares, daggers never ceasing.
Their six penises grew, rough surfaces stretching slits, dual heads pressing each other’s maidenheads, bending them to breaking. Sherry’s blue eyes teared, breasts trembling, her penises pressing Luna and Myuko’s maidenheads, her slit stretched by their penises, her maidenhead trembling, crying stubbornly: “Hah… atone! Aah… your last chance before defilement!” Luna’s purple eyes dazed, honeyed body convulsing, her penises pressing Sherry and Myuko’s maidenheads, her slit stretched, maidenhead taut, shrieking defiantly: “Mmph… give up… eek… deflowered, you’ll die!” Myuko’s green eyes blurred, cat ears twitching, her penises pressing Sherry and Luna’s maidenheads, her slit filled, maidenhead near breaking, wailing obstinately: “Aah… kill yourselves… mmph… better than raped!” Pleading inwardly for foes to stop, they threatened mutual deflowering, daggers stabbing abdomens, blades grazing navels, sweat splashing. The rocking horse jolted, penises and slits rubbing, virgins threatening mutual destruction, knowing none would yield, hatred and despair shattering hopes of preserving chastity.
As if a death sentence descended, tearful eyes blazing with hatred, Sherry, Luna, and Myuko twisted their waists, bodies surging, charging to shatter each other’s maidenheads in a suicidal onslaught.
Pop—membranes tore, blood gushed.
Thick penises pierced each other’s maidenheads, plunging deep, slamming cervixes, pain like tearing.
Sherry’s penises deflowered Luna and Myuko, delving deep, her slit pierced by their penises, hitting her cervix, her flat abdomen bulging, foes’ penises outlined on her skin, screaming lasciviously. Luna’s penises tore Sherry and Myuko’s maidenheads, striking wombs, her slit stretched, cervix hit, her abdomen showing foes’ invading outlines, wailing in despair. Myuko’s penises deflowered Sherry and Luna, reaching cervixes, her slit pierced, cervix struck, her abdomen revealing foes’ violating outlines from groin to navel, howling wretchedly.
Their freshly deflowered, tight slits struggled with one penis, now forced to take two massive ones, wrinkled walls stretched to their limit, every inch rubbed by rough rods, slits rounded near tearing, pain and pleasure entwined, fluids gushing.
Yet the brutal sexfight showed no mercy. The rocking horse jolted, forcing penises to grind cervixes, pain and pleasure irresistible, consciousness collapsing. Their naked bodies convulsed, Sherry’s blue eyes rolling, Luna’s purple eyes dazed, Myuko’s green eyes twitching, moans echoing across the square. Defiant, they endured pain, suppressing climax urges, wielding daggers, continuing the lethal triangular sexfight.
The rocking horse bucked wildly, their naked bodies squeezed in the tight seat, plump hips jammed, colored stockings pinning each other, bodies pressed, breasts bouncing. Each slit was stretched by two foes’ massive penises, tight walls near tearing, dual heads relentlessly battering fragile cervixes, pain and pleasure surging like tides.
“Aah… pull out… don’t… aah!” Amid desperate moans, knowing foes wouldn’t stop, they endured humiliation, thrusting their penises frantically, raping their foes. Three stunning beauties exerted every ounce, penetrating and violating each other. They tried clamping slits to halt foes’ invasions, but it only intensified their violation’s pleasure, their penises clashing with another foe’s in tight slits, rough surfaces rubbing, pain like tearing.
The sexfight raged, daggers flashing, blades clashing near their abdomens, grazing abs, sparks piercing navels, sweat splashing, death threats and erotic violation entwined, bodies convulsing, fluids gushing.
The rocking horse jolted madly, their bodies rising and falling, penises plunging fiercer, heads lifting tender wombs, cervixes battered relentlessly, pleasure like tsunamis. Breasts bounced, nipples swollen, slits spasming, trying to clamp foes’ penises, but intense stimulation triggered climaxes, fluids gushing, lubricating foes’ penises, easing thrusts, heads entering wombs. “Hah… aah! Mmph… no!” Shameful, humiliated screams rose and fell. They twisted waists, driving penises to twitch in foes’ bodies, but foes’ tightened slits and another foe’s penis squeezed painfully, pleasure surging, ejaculation urges strong.
Their fluids mingled, soaking penises, lubricated thrusts sloshing, heads clashing with wombs, lewd slaps echoing, erotic pleasure peaking. Daggers stabbed abdomens, blades grazing navels, sweat and fluids splashing, moans and screams echoing across the square.






Chapter 9: Defeat Means Impregnating Foes, Victory Means Birthing Their Children
Frequent climaxes convulsed their bodies, consciousness fogging, feeling the penises inside swelling, trembling intensifying, ejaculation urges strong.
Sherry felt Luna and Myuko’s penises inflating in her slit, trembling heads battering her cervix, searing pulses signaling creampies, while her penises twitched in their slits, ejaculation urges fiery. Tearfully, she cried: “Aah… don’t shoot! Mmph… not this… aah… no! I’ll kill you! Mmh-aah… don’t make me pregnant! Aah… I’ll shoot you dead!” She clamped her slit, trying to halt foes’ creampies, but it only heightened their penises’ pleasure and ejaculation urges. Knowing escape was impossible, Sherry gritted her teeth, accelerating her ejaculation charge in Luna and Myuko.
Luna felt Sherry and Myuko’s penises charging her womb, heads slamming her cavity, rods bouncing fiercely, searing heat rising, her penises swelling and trembling in their slits, ejaculation urges tidal. Tears streaming, she screamed: “Eek… not inside! Hah… pull out, die, die! … Mmh-aah… don’t defile me! … Aah… don’t want to conceive! Aah… get creampied!” Her honeyed body arched, tightening her slit, but it spurred foes’ thrusting pleasure. Facing imminent creampies, Luna endured, frantically thrusting in Myuko and Sherry’s cavities.
Myuko felt Sherry and Luna’s penises striking her cervix’s core, heads battering her womb, rods swelling hotly, pulsing like blades, her penises bulging and trembling in their slits, ejaculation urges surging. Tearfully, she wailed: “Mmph… stop! Aah… not for you… mmh-aah… spare me… aah-mmh… kill you, die! Mmh… don’t make me carry your seed… aah!” Her cat ears twitched, green eyes teary, tightening her slit, but it intensified foes’ penises’ pleasure, battering her womb’s gates, as if her body craved insemination. Pleas futile, Myuko vengefully drove her penises in Luna and Sherry for retaliatory creampies.
Ignoring each other’s pleas, they continued violating, the rocking horse’s jolts pushing ejaculation urges to the brink. Penises thrust fiercely in slits, sensitive, trembling heads battering wombs craving seeding. Humiliation of rape, fear of death, and despair of forced conception shattered their resistance, crushing their last dignity. In gushing fluids, penises erupted, semen spurting.
Sherry’s penises creampied Luna and Myuko’s wombs, searing semen flooding cavities, wombs bulging, while her womb filled with Luna and Myuko’s semen, abdomen swelling, heat and nausea like blades. Luna’s penises creampied Sherry and Myuko’s wombs, thick semen overflowing, wombs expanding, while her womb filled with Myuko and Sherry’s semen, abdomen bulging, heat and forced conception’s humiliation drowning her. Myuko’s penises creampied Sherry and Luna’s wombs, massive semen swelling cavities, wombs enlarging, while her womb filled with Luna and Sherry’s semen, abdomen outlining her womb, heat and nausea surging shamefully. Convulsing, tearful, they felt their abdomens swell, wombs filled with foes’ semen, excess spilling, mingling with fluids, trickling down stockings, soaking hips and thighs. Again, their still-swollen penises twitched in foes’ slits, feeling two foes’ massive penises starting new violations, killing intent surging, knuckles cracking, daggers gleaming.
Post-creampie climax, their dignity collapsed, yet the fight didn’t stop. Wielding daggers, blades stabbed foes’ abdomens, while their giant swords deep inside frenziedly attacked foes’ lower abdomens, massive penises brutally thrusting fragile wombs, swollen, grotesque heads battering tender cervixes, semen and fluids mixing, sloshing, sweat and fluids splashing, coating their bodies. Breasts bounced, lips rubbed, chastity defiled by penises, wombs burned by semen, humiliation and pleasure entwined, hatred and fear intertwined.
Slits clamped foes’ penises, heads rubbing wombs, daggers parrying attacks, breasts swaying, abdomens tensing, pleasure like tsunamis. Tearful glares, flushed cheeks, fluids and semen gushing, moans and humiliated screams echoing. The rocking horse jolted, penis thrusts intensifying, their prized bodies filled with foul semen, wombs near bursting, excess semen backflowing, stimulating tight walls and rubbing penises, sparking fiercer pleasure, triggering continuous climaxes. In humiliation, fear, and pleasure’s abyss, their naked, lascivious forms glistened, golden, white, and orange hair tangled, colored stockings soaked, breasts and thighs drenched, the lethal sexfight’s hell endless, the erotic, desperate gut-wrenching battle unending.
Myuko’s penis, with Luna’s, ravaged Sherry’s tight slit, vying to rape her sensual body, relentlessly battering her sensitive cervix, massive penis outlines writhing on Sherry’s abdomen, making her tremble, climaxing repeatedly, moaning: “Aah… no… can’t climax again… aah… I’m breaking… aah!” Each thrust drew copious fluids, gushing, soaking the rocking horse, trickling down stocking-clad legs. Myuko and Luna ignored Sherry’s humiliated pleas, greedily ravaging her, thrusting harder. Sherry’s eyes rolled, teeth clenched, body arched, drool dripping onto breasts, trying to clamp her slit, but Myuko and Luna’s penises relentlessly battered her spasming cervix, pleasure like tsunamis drowning her, climaxes piling, squirts unending, mental collapse intensifying. Finally, Myuko and Luna slammed swollen, pulsing penises into Sherry’s cervix, two thick semen torrents flooding her womb, instantly filling, searing her fragile walls, tsunami-like pleasure overwhelming, triggering a massive climax. Sherry sank into pleasure, unconscious, blue eyes dazed, body convulsing, fluids gushing, breasts trembling, stocking-clad legs tensing, heels shaking. Yet, unconscious, Sherry’s penises tirelessly plunged into Myuko and Luna’s slits, battering their cervixes, making them moan, climaxing relentlessly.
Sherry’s penis, with Myuko’s, frenziedly ravaged Luna’s sensitive slit, vying to violate her sensual body, brutally battering her tender cervix, Luna’s abdomen bulging, penis outlines thrusting visibly, making her tremble, climaxing repeatedly, moaning: “Aah… spare me… can’t climax again… aah… I’m going mad… aah!” Each thrust drew fluids, gushing, soaking the rocking horse, trickling down stockings. Sherry and Myuko ignored Luna’s pleas, greedily ravaging her, thrusting harder. Luna’s eyes rolled, teeth clenched, body arched, drool dripping onto breasts, trying to clamp her slit, but Sherry and Myuko’s penises relentlessly battered her spasming cervix, pleasure drowning her, climaxes piling, squirts unending, mental collapse intensifying. Finally, Sherry and Myuko slammed swollen penises into Luna’s cervix, two thick semen torrents flooding her womb, filling instantly, searing her sensitive walls, tsunami-like pleasure triggering a colossal climax. Luna sank into pleasure, unconscious, purple eyes dazed, body convulsing, fluids gushing, breasts trembling, legs tensing, heels shaking. Yet, unconscious, Luna’s penises tirelessly plunged into Sherry and Myuko’s slits, battering their cervixes, making them moan, squirts gushing.
Luna’s penis, with Sherry’s, brutally pistoned Myuko’s tight slit, competing to violate her sensual body, relentlessly battering her tender cervix, Myuko’s flat abdomen bulging, penis outlines writhing, twisting her abs, making her tremble, climaxing repeatedly, moaning: “Aah… stop… can’t go on… aah… I’m breaking… aah!” Each thrust drew fluids, gushing, soaking the rocking horse, trickling down stockings. Sherry and Luna ignored Myuko’s pleas, greedily ravaging her, thrusting harder. Myuko’s eyes rolled, teeth clenched, body arched, drool dripping onto breasts, trying to clamp her slit, but Sherry and Luna’s penises relentlessly battered her spasming cervix, pleasure drowning her, climaxes piling, squirts unending, mental collapse intensifying. Finally, Sherry and Luna slammed swollen penises into Myuko’s cervix, two thick semen torrents flooding her womb, filling instantly, searing her sensitive walls, tsunami-like pleasure triggering a colossal climax. Myuko sank into pleasure, unconscious, phoenix eyes dazed, body convulsing, fluids gushing, breasts trembling, legs tensing, heels shaking. Yet, powerless, Myuko’s penises mercilessly plunged into Sherry and Luna’s wombs, battering their cervixes, making them wail, climaxes unrelenting.




Chapter 10: The Lethal Finale of the Triangular Sexfight
Bilina’s square basked in sunlight, the tranquil town tainted by lascivious moans and gasps.
On the rocking horse, Sherry, Luna, and Myuko’s naked bodies glistened lasciviously, golden, white, and orange hair tangled, sweat and fluids flowing over pale, honeyed, and pale skin, breasts bouncing, colored stockings soaked, outlining sensual curves. Their plump hips jammed in the tight seat, stocking-clad legs pinning each other, slits stretched to their limit by two massive penises, wombs swollen with foes’ semen, abdomens slightly bulging, penis outlines faintly visible, forced conception’s humiliation and nausea surging. The rocking horse bucked, penises plunging faster, heads battering cervixes, semen and fluids mixing, sloshing. Sherry’s blue eyes teared, breasts trembling, her two penises piercing Luna and Myuko’s wombs, heads striking cavities, her slit filled by their penises, pain and pleasure entwined. Luna’s purple eyes blurred, honeyed body convulsing, her two penises battering Sherry and Myuko’s cervixes, her slit squeezed by their penises, lascivious pleasure drowning her. Myuko’s green eyes twitched, cat ears shaking, her two penises delving into Sherry and Luna’s wombs, her slit stretched by their penises, shame and pleasure like blades.
They tried clamping slits to torment foes’ penises, but it intensified their pleasure, penises clashing with another foe’s in tight slits, rough surfaces rubbing, pain and pleasure like lightning convulsing them. Daggers swung, blades grazing abdomens, death threats and erotic violation entwined. Suddenly, the rocking horse jolted, their penis thrusts peaking, heads battering wombs, fluids spraying, climaxes sweeping them. Sherry’s golden hair flung, breasts heaving, slit spasming, fluids lubricating Luna and Myuko’s penises, body trembling, moans uncontrollable: “Hah… aah… mmph…” Luna’s honeyed breasts bounced, nipples swollen, slit contracting, fluids gushing, consciousness fogging, shrieking: “Mmph… eek… hah…” Myuko’s cat ears trembled, breasts swaying, slit tightening, fluids overflowing, pain and pleasure entwined, wailing: “Aah… mmph… mmh…” Climax-drained, their bodies slumped, breasts heaving, cheeks flushed, tears falling, consciousness near collapse.
At that moment, seizing a flaw, blue, purple, and green eyes blazed with killing intent, abandoning defense, daggers stabbing foes’ abdomens. Sherry’s obsidian dagger targeted Luna and Myuko’s narrow navels, Luna’s mithril dagger aimed at Sherry and Myuko’s flat abdomens, Myuko’s agate dagger struck Sherry and Luna’s concave abs. Blades pierced navels precisely, emitting low metallic clangs. Their bodies shuddered, breasts trembling, believing they’d gut their foes, excitement and glory surging. But instantly, excitement turned to fear, feeling their own narrow navels pierced by two blades, abdomens sinking, agony heralding death’s arrival.
Yet death didn’t come.
Their bodies tensed, abs defined, narrow navels sinking, blades pressing, sweat and fluids trickling down abdomens. Sherry’s navel was pierced by Luna’s mithril and Myuko’s agate daggers, blades sinking into the narrow hollow, abs trembling. She gripped her obsidian dagger, stabbing Luna and Myuko’s navels, trying to advance, clashing with their blades, feeling immense resistance.
A magical pulse surged—the necklace’s “Second Fatal Damage Immunity” activated. The two blades vying to pierce her body couldn’t be the sole first fatal strike, both deemed the second fatal source by the arcane law, blocked by an invisible magical barrier, awaiting the balance’s break for the sole victor to execute the final sentence.
Sweat dripped, blades sparking in their navels, lasciviousness and death entwined. Sherry’s golden hair flung, breasts bouncing, hands trembling, her obsidian dagger quivering in Luna and Myuko’s navels, striving to break the stalemate. But her body convulsed, feeling Luna and Myuko’s blades battling in her navel, trembling, ready to pierce her necklace’s protection, gutting her. Luna’s honeyed body arched, breasts swaying, her mithril dagger struggling in Sherry and Myuko’s navels, clashing with foes’ blades, while Sherry and Myuko’s blades fought in her navel, the balance teetering, threatening to disembowel her. Myuko’s cat ears twitched, pale abdomen trembling, her agate dagger twisting in Sherry and Luna’s navels, blocked by foes’ blades, while Luna and Sherry’s blades battled in her navel, the magical reprieve poised to end, spilling her entrails.
They held each other’s lives, unable to stop foes’ battles in their navels, each blade’s quiver a potential death sentence, helpless and unknowing, despair gnawing like venom. Time froze, the rocking horse’s jolts, blade sparks, fluid sloshes, and their moans weaving a lascivious, desperate symphony across the square. Their bodies trembled, breasts heaving, tears sliding, shame, humiliation, and death’s fear drowning their wills, moans and screams rising and falling, the erotic and lethal stalemate agonizingly prolonged.
The rocking horse jolted, their bodies rising and falling, daggers locked in navels unpierced, but penises thrusting inside intensified, heads battering wombs, semen and fluids mixing, sloshing. Their cheeks flushed, tears streaming, internal erotic pleasure and external death threats entwined, fluids trickling down stockings, breasts and abdomens soaked, lascivious poses pulse-pounding. The relentless sexfight had no end, pleasure triggering slit spasms, desperate, wretched moans weaving in this endless pleasure abyss.
Daggers in foes’ navels were checked by another foe’s blade, unable to be the first fatal strike, immovable, death’s despair and fleeting survival hopes entwined. Luna’s dagger battled Myuko’s in Sherry’s sensual navel, sparks flying, both vying to kill Sherry, inadvertently sparing her. Sherry’s dagger fought Luna’s in Myuko’s narrow navel, blades trembling, both aiming to gut Myuko, prolonging her life. Myuko’s dagger clashed with Sherry’s in Luna’s slender navel, blades sparking, both seeking to execute Luna, granting her a reprieve. In their navels, two foes’ daggers battled, each wanting to kill, yet temporarily preserving their lives.
But the stalemate couldn’t ease despair. Fluids, tears, and sweat dripped onto breasts, sliding down cleavages to flat abdomens, seeping into narrow navels, wetting foes’ battling blades. Their bodies trembled in pain and fear, breasts shaking, abs tensing from agony, narrow navels pierced, pain like blades. Worse, their internal battles escalated, pleasure unrelenting, slit spasms, fluids gushing, wombs filled near bursting, abdomens swelling, deepening foes’ blades in navels. Lips swelled painfully yet pleasure persisted, slits numbed yet hypersensitive, wombs cloaked in nauseating heat yet craving penis thrusts, penises ejaculating emptily, swollen, forced to release under foes’ walls and rods. In humiliation, fear, and pleasure’s abyss, they endured pain and pleasure, sustaining navel blade stalemates in climax and ejaculation exhaustion, moans and screams echoing.
Myuko’s orange eyes shimmered with tears, enduring Sherry and Luna’s blades battling in her navel, resisting their penises’ brutal violations. The blades’ cold touch raced her heart, their searing semen forced climaxes, whispering despairingly: “Aah… you… aah-mmh… won’t kill me…” Powerless, she endured climax exhaustion, pushing her agate dagger in Sherry’s navel against Luna’s mithril, aiming to gut Sherry, and in Luna’s navel against Sherry’s obsidian, aiming to dissect Luna. Yet, no matter her struggles, she couldn’t stop foes’ battles in her navel or violations in her slit, forcing climaxes, her deliverance unknown, accepting Sherry and Luna’s execution, despair swallowing her.
Sherry’s blue eyes brimmed with humiliation, watching Luna and Myuko’s blades clash in her navel, feeling their penises’ relentless violations. The blades’ agony convulsed her, their rough friction climaxed her, gasping inwardly: “Mmph… I… aah… won’t die by your hands…” Helpless, she endured climax torment, pushing her obsidian dagger in Myuko’s navel against Luna’s mithril, aiming to execute Myuko, and in Luna’s navel against Myuko’s agate, aiming to punish Luna. Yet, no matter her efforts, she couldn’t alter foes’ battles in her navel or violations in her slit, forcing climaxes, her ender unknown, accepting Luna and Myuko’s judgment, fear drowning her.
Luna’s purple eyes hollowed, bearing Myuko and Sherry’s blades clashing in her navel, enduring their penises raping her. The blades’ pain fogged her, their massive tremors triggered squirts, sobbing faintly: “Aah… I… must… aah… survive…” Unknowing, she endured climax assaults, pushing her mithril dagger in Myuko’s navel against Sherry’s obsidian, aiming to avenge Myuko, and in Sherry’s navel against Myuko’s agate, aiming to shame Sherry. Yet, no matter her actions, she couldn’t end foes’ battles in her navel or violations in her slit, forcing squirts, her fate unknown, accepting Sherry and Myuko’s harm, humiliation crushing her.
Erotic violation and lethal combat entwined, the fragile stalemate poised to break, heralding mutual disembowelment, ending this endless triangular sexfight.


Demon Realm Sexfight - Chapter Three 01: Blessings of the Holy Light and the Cursed Heretic


Prologue: Why Did It Come to This?


Raven-black hair, drenched in lascivious fluids, clung messily to a face contorted in anguish. The girl’s naked body quivered under relentless stimulation, her snow-white abdomen bulging with a horrifying protrusion. Ignoring Tiffany’s tear-streaked sobs and piercing wails, Jenny clung to consciousness, her hands gripping Tiffany’s plump buttocks, fingers sinking deep into the supple flesh. With a forceful tug, she compelled Tiffany to engulf the massive phallus violating her.
Tiffany’s delicate slit was brutally stretched, the menacing glans pounding her core, the colossal shaft compressing her organs, distending her womb, and inflating her belly to the brink of rupture. Amid searing pain and tidal pleasure, Tiffany struggled in humiliation, but her angelic body, bound by divine restraints, couldn’t escape its ravishment. Instead, her core was penetrated deeper, the overwhelming pleasure devouring her dwindling will. Her voluptuous frame arched taut, convulsing in despair, her mindless moans echoing as her stuffed slit spasmed, gushing torrents of fluid from the seams, cascading down her pale thighs, dripping into the lust-fogged puddle below.
Bathed in Tiffany’s gushing climax, Jenny’s golden hair lay disheveled, slick against her despairing face. Her fury-filled blue eyes rolled back, focus lost, her ample breasts and slender waist trembling violently. Her once-taut abdomen now bore the grotesque outline of a massive phallus. Amid shameless, lascivious screams, her belly swelled dangerously, threatening to burst. The double-headed dragon she forced Tiffany to endure simultaneously ravaged her own slit. In hopeless humiliation, Jenny’s overburdened will shattered, pleasure exploding like thunder, igniting every nerve. Reduced to arching and shrieking, her juices sprayed like a waterfall, drenching Tiffany’s towering breasts, pooling in the pungent, saline lake beneath them.






“Aaah… give up! I won’t… mmh-aah… let you pass!” Tiffany murmured lasciviously.
“Mmh… I must… ugh… move forward! Don’t make me… aaah… hurt you more!” Jenny gasped, choking on sobs.
Their sensual bodies writhed, Tiffany roaring in shame: “Aaah… Jenny… eek-mmh… this time… mmh… I won’t… aaaaah… let go!”
Her firm breasts swaying, Jenny wailed in agony: “Ugh… I won’t… mmh… sister… ugh-mmh… let the demon… aaaaah… prevail!”
Tiffany’s golden eyes blazed with defiance, her teeth clenched as her naked body arched with all its might, her tender slit riding the double-headed dragon, her core flattened, her womb squeezed, spurting thick fluids with lascivious squelches deep within. Simultaneously, the dragon’s other end mercilessly ravaged Jenny’s body, its rough glans breaching her angelic womb, grinding sensitive walls. The collision and friction triggered gushing fluids, their pained, erotic moans spraying onto each other’s trembling forms.
Yet they refused to relent. Tiffany’s hands clawed at Jenny’s firm breasts, fingers sinking into the pale, ample flesh, yanking downward with all her strength. The anguished, dazed angel was forced to ride the dragon, her rounded slit swallowing more of the violating shaft. The tearing pain and humiliating pleasure dazed Jenny, her swollen abdomen twitching, unable to resist the climax’s surge. Her taut body convulsed, juices gushing, streaming down Tiffany’s face.
Simultaneously, Tiffany bore the consequences of ravishing Jenny. The dragon’s other end slid relentlessly into her near-torn vagina, her womb displaced, quivering helplessly in her bulging abdomen. Her sensitive walls, crushed between taut skin and the rough glans, drowned her in tidal pleasure. Finally, the demoness collapsed under the intense stimulation, her eyes rolling back, raven hair flailing, splattered with unknown fluids. Her proud breasts heaved, forced to climax again, her gushing juices splashing Jenny’s face.
The massive double-headed dragon impartially ravaged both sisters’ tender slits, their snow-white abdomens swelling as if pregnant, their delicate cores clashing under the strain of near-ruptured flesh, sharing endless pain and ecstasy in mutual torment. Their moans and wails intertwined, relentless climaxes driving them to a humiliating, desperate sexfight’s death sentence.
Yet their glazed eyes burned with resolve, neither yielding in their mutual violation. Last time, they chose to relent, losing each other. Their reunion brought no joy, only the shame and despair of a lethal sexfight—a clash of Tiffany and Jenny’s wills, and a battle between demon and angel. Even if it meant mutual destruction, they would never yield again. Tears streaming, they glared, knowing defeat would cost everything they protected. Even death was better than losing to the other.


Chapter 1: When Did Our Rift Begin?


The night was thick as ink, a corner of the Champagne Wilderness aglow. At the heart of Saint Ussile Village, torches illuminated the raucous streets, the air thick with sweat, liquor, and faint blood. By the arena’s edge, villagers packed tightly, within the rough wooden fence, a fully armed man clashed swords with a demon. The demon’s crimson muscles bulged, black horns glinting coldly under firelight, its wrists bound by iron chains. Each time it repelled the man with a fist, villagers smashed weapons down, blood spraying from its shoulders, staining the dark red earth. The frenzied crowd bet and jeered, mocking the man: “Fight back, don’t embarrass us! I’ve bet everything—don’t lose!” Despite the demon’s clear advantage, with odds soaring to dozens, the crowd still traded bets on the man, roars and curses weaving a hellish revelry.
Golden hair shimmered under torchlight, blue eyes sparkling with excitement and curiosity. Jenny wove through the lively crowd, her coarse skirt outlining her curvaceous figure, blending youthful vigor with a maiden’s tender charm. Her angelic face radiated fatal allure, stirring illicit thoughts.
Normally, she joined such brawls, cheering from the fence for warriors pummeling aliens. Tonight, however, she didn’t linger at the savage melee, hastily acknowledging the crowd’s “hero” calls, hurrying onward. Rwen’s cryptic invitation to see “something more fun” itched at her, leaving no time for the demon’s roars. She followed, squeezing into Rwen’s basement.
In the eighty-square-meter sealed space, heat rolled like waves, packed with people, screams and cheers deafening, rivaling the frenzy outside. Sweat, perfume, and body odor mingled with blood and lasciviousness, the stifling basement a furnace. Jenny, blood pumping, pushed to the front, Rwen excitedly pulling her onto a crate: “Quick, it’s started!”
The crowd formed a circle around a central clearing, where two otherworldly beauties fought to the death. Naked, their tall frames boasted full breasts, slender waists, and pert hips, but their skin differed starkly—one elf’s skin was creamy, white hair cascading, blue eyes brimming with despair; the other, seemingly elven, bore bronze skin, purple hair strewn, green eyes burning with defiance. Their bodies bore purple bruises, sweat and blood intertwining, breasts heaving as fists and feet traded blows, their graceful forms colliding with warrior-like brutality, pulses racing.
“Elves?” Jenny whispered, puzzled.
“Yep!” Rwen sneered disdainfully. “The white one was caught by Locke in Glendi; the dark one tried stealing from my house—talk about blind.”
“Both from Valinor?” Jenny’s eyes locked on the elves’ fists sinking into soft flesh, her cheeks flushing with excitement.
“Probably.” Rwen replied absently. Despite a century of war with elves, the village hadn’t faced direct invasion, and no one knew much about elven races. Dark elves, though rare, were just “damn elves.” “So dark, it’s disgusting. Can’t believe guys go for that… both knocked up, left to me to deal with.”
The elves moved nimbly, their slender forms suited for evasion, yet they traded savage blows to sensitive areas. Sticky semen dripped from their slits, splattering under kicks, sweat spraying as breasts collided, moans and screams alternating. The white elf’s fist smashed the dark elf’s breast, flesh quivering, red marks blooming, the dark elf yelping but retaliating, her knee slamming the white elf’s slit, triggering a gush of fluid.
“Why don’t they dodge?” Jenny muttered, frowning. Such unskilled fighting wasn’t her taste; she dreamed of defeating stronger foes, but the village’s captured aliens were too weak.
Rwen smirked coldly: “I ordered it. Dodging or defending means losing. Stinky elves, but obedient, huh?”
Before she finished, the bruised elves collapsed, trembling, breasts heaving, sweat and blood mixing, fluids pooling from their slits, exhausted. The crowd booed, shouting: “Lame! Get up! Keep going!”
Rwen snapped impatiently: “Get up, or you both lose!”
The white elf, tears in her blue eyes, white hair clinging to her sweat-soaked body, struggled to rise, only to collapse; the dark elf, green eyes despairing, bronze body spasming, lacked even the strength to crawl. They dragged themselves together, weakly slapping each other, their limp motions drawing louder jeers.
Rwen shook her head, ready to disband the gathering. Suddenly, someone shouted: “Make them fight with their tits!” The crowd roared with laughter, blood boiling, urging them on.
Rwen’s eyes lit up, clapping: “Great idea!” She ordered the elves hauled up, forced to kneel facing each other. Their battered bodies quivered, naked breasts swaying under torchlight, dark areolas with erect nipples glistening with sweat, sliding over bruises, pooling in cleavages, mixing with the floor’s white muck. The white elf bit her lip, white hair disheveled, blue eyes humiliated; the dark elf’s purple hair was strewn, green eyes defiant, her bronze breasts facing the white elf’s pale ones, swollen red nipples poised, the air thick with tension and lasciviousness.
“Begin!” Rwen commanded. The dark elf, trembling, thrust her breasts, her nipple stabbing the white elf’s flesh, a muffled thud as sweat sprayed. The white elf countered, her pale breasts slamming the dark elf’s, sharp claps echoing. Soon, their bruised breasts swelled red, low moans choking as the breast-fight intensified. The white elf swiveled, her breast whipping the dark elf’s chest, firm flesh smacking with piercing slaps, both trembling with hoarse wails. The dark elf retaliated, swiveling oppositely, meeting the white elf’s strike, their breasts crashing, relentless slaps ringing, red nipples spurting whey under fierce blows, their pained screams drowned by gushing fluids from their slits, yet they swung their hips and chests, attacking mindlessly. The crowd screamed excitedly, urging fiercer blows, the lascivious collisions and moans weaving a boiling sea of desire.
Initially, the elves’ screams mingled with the crowd’s cheers, but the breast-fight stalled, exhaustion or pain reducing it to breast-pressing, flattening each other’s chests into pancakes, dull and monotonous. Rwen grimaced: “Surprisingly boring. Not like doing it yourself.”
“Need some incentives,” Jenny, unfamiliar with sexfights but versed in combat, suggested. “Boxing has scores; motivation might make the outcome clearer.”
“Incentives?” Rwen paused, then grinned wickedly: “Nice! The hero knows how to play.” She ordered two rough hemp ropes fetched, looped around the elves’ necks, ends hung from a beam, tightening with any pull, leaving red marks on smooth skin. Rwen declared: “Again, no just breasts—anything goes! First to squirt loses!”
The crowd roared, their sexfight cheers deafening, the basement’s heat nearly suffocating.
The elves’ green and blue eyes locked, despair, humiliation, and survival instincts intertwining, tears, sweat, and saliva dripping from their breasts, stinging wounds, trembling uncontrollably. The humans’ cruelty and their foe’s threat left no choice but to fight for life. The white elf struck first, her slender hand diving into the dark elf’s slit, rapidly masturbating her, fluids spraying through fingers, making the dark elf arch and scream. Knowing she’d lost the initiative, the dark elf endured the pleasure, embracing her foe, her tongue invading the white elf’s lips, kissing deeply, tongues entwining, saliva stringing, teasing moans from the white elf. Her bronze fingers plunged into the white elf’s slit, fluids splattering with rough thrusts. In the prolonged sexfight, lips, breasts, and slits battled fiercely, moans trembling, knowing climax meant death. Both accelerated, their hands a blur, fluids gushing as if to drain each other. Their glares shifted from hatred to daze, eyes rolling back, resisting intense pleasure to delay their climaxes, bodies shaking like sieves, legs propping exhausted frames, moans stifled in throats, reduced to sobbing hums, pleading for the other’s climax first, sweat and fluids soaking the floor, the air thick with lasciviousness.
“Mmh… ugh… aaah!” The white elf’s body convulsed first, her taut frame clutched by the dark elf, struggling helplessly as torrents gushed under rapid fingers.
Pushing the pale body away, letting her collapse sobbing, the dark elf, ignoring her pain and fatigue, screamed excitedly: “I won! Let me go!” She burst into tears, wiping her eyes. “I swear I’ll never sneak into the adults’ stables to sleep again, never!”
But Rwen, shaking her head at those ready to hang the white elf, sneered: “Who said one round ends it? Keep going, as many as I feel like!”
Amid the crowd’s laughter, the dark elf froze, green eyes filled with disbelief and despair. Before she could react, the white elf embraced her from behind, her tongue teasing bronze nipples, fingers plunging into her muddy slit, thrusting rapidly. The dark elf screamed, her climax-near body convulsing, eyes glazing, fluids gushing, her bronze frame collapsing. As the white elf relaxed, the dark elf, purple hair strewn, gritted her teeth, pushing her foe down, her lips latching onto the white elf’s semen-drenched slit, tongue probing sensitive spots. The sudden tongue assault made the white elf tremble, blue eyes tearing, moaning uncontrollably, but she endured, spreading her foe’s legs, her lips sucking the dark elf’s mixed fluids, tongue wrapping her clit, biting gently, making the dark elf arch and gush. They devoured each other’s slits, moaning in convulsing slits while relentlessly licking, invading trembling cores.






The crowd, roused by the intense, erotic sexfight, cheered and cursed, their fervor shaking the basement’s roof. Rwen nodded approvingly, signaling to tighten the ropes around the elves’ necks, fear spurring fiercer combat.
The ropes tightened to their limit, forcing the elves to stand, their convulsing bodies straining to breathe, tiptoeing to support their frames on the gallows. Yet their sexfight grew wilder. Entwined, they sealed lips, tongues tangling, deep kisses spilling pleasure, saliva dripping to breasts; bruised breasts crushed together, swollen nipples clashing, agonizing; slits slammed, lips sticking, clits piercing, fluids, semen, and blood mingling, pooling beneath. The white elf, blue eyes blurred, white hair strewn, thrust her chest; the dark elf, green eyes tearing, bronze body twitching, writhed her hips, slit grinding her foe’s, moaning relentlessly. Their abdomens heaved, climax nearing, knowing death loomed, unwilling to lose. They locked legs around each other’s waists, pressing their full weight, aiming to strangle their foe, unaware both did the same. Their weight tightened the ropes, choking their necks. In suffocation, they clung, legs entwined, bodies pressed, kissing, breast-fighting, slit-grinding. The white elf’s tongue probed the dark elf’s lips, saliva stringing, choking her foe; the dark elf’s breasts slammed the white elf’s, nipples clashing, sweat spraying, silencing her foe. Their slits pressed, fluids gushing, white juices streaming down thighs, the floor a mess. The ropes bruised their necks, breathing faint, pupils dilating, silent wails echoing in their kiss, begging for the other’s death.
The crowd chanted: “Die! Die! Die!” like a countdown to doom. In fear, shame, and helplessness, both climaxed, the white elf convulsing, white hair strewn, blue eyes glazed, fluids cascading; the dark elf twitching, purple hair disheveled, green eyes dim, juices flowing. The ropes choked their necks, tongues lolling, pupils fading, their lifeless bodies stiffening, the sexfight’s battlefield falling silent. The black and white forms, even in death, clung, tormenting each other in the gallows. The crowd erupted, blood boiling, cheers shaking the heavens, celebrating another victory in the century-long war.
“Slaughter the aliens.”
Jenny stood frozen, realizing she’d been cheering with the crowd, her heart pounding, sweat soaking her skirt, blue eyes fogged, palms bleeding from clenched nails. She couldn’t tell if this was her desire or the whispers in her mind driving her.
The basement’s heat and lasciviousness lingered in Jenny’s heart, the elves’ suffocating climaxes and the crowd’s frenzy haunting like a nightmare. A gentle yet firm grip seized her wrist. Startled, Jenny turned to see her sister, Tiffany.
Raven-black hair cascaded, glossy under torchlight, framing a refined face, her deep, calm golden eyes fixed on her sister, fatigue creasing her brow, lips pursed. Without a word, she pulled Jenny through the raucous crowd.
Unlike the lively, sociable Jenny, Tiffany exuded a mature, aloof calm. Her full breasts and lithe waist were wrapped in a grey dress, accentuating her slender yet curvaceous form. Even in the basement’s stifling chaos, her steps were graceful, finding perfect footing, her movements precise.
“Bad woman, the elves are dead! Keep cozying up to your elf lackey lover, and you’ll end badly!” Rwen’s sharp voice pierced from behind. “Hero, don’t be fooled by an enemy posing as your sister!” The crowd laughed, someone adding: “Yeah! Mingling with enemies, she’ll sell you out!”
Jenny’s golden hair flicked, blue eyes flaring with defiance, ready to retort, but Tiffany’s firm grip pulled her out, the jeers fading.
Passing the outdoor arena, the match had ended. Broken horns, blood-soaked ground, the demon’s battered corpse was carted off. Onstage, a bruised man raised his arms, boasting: “See that? I crushed the demon!” The crowd cheered wildly, as if celebrating a grand victory.
“Let aliens die, Gao Si triumphs! Isn’t that the hero? Next time, you fight—this demon was a slog,” voices reveled. Spotting Tiffany hurrying past, some whistled lewdly: “Glendi’s girl, daring to show up? Here to collect the demon’s corpse? I saw her listening to it earlier. Let our hero go, don’t let a traitor ruin her!”
“Traitor,” the whisper echoed, Jenny frowning, unease stirring. Tiffany, expressionless, pulled her sister away, firelight casting her stoic profile.
The village’s night breeze was cool, dispelling the gathering’s blood and lasciviousness, and the clamor’s glow. The sisters walked silently on the stone path, Jenny’s golden hair shimmering in moonlight, Tiffany’s black hair flowing like ink, their clasped hands tight in the dark. In the distance, the village’s wooden houses dotted the night, rooftops chipped, windows weathered, steeped in time’s desolation. A tidy yet dilapidated stone house, shrouded in moonlight, opened its door to welcome them home.
Pushing the creaking wooden door, the sparse interior held worn furniture, a cold hearth, a few tattered history books, and old armor piled in a corner.
Tiffany, silent, headed to the stove, deftly lighting a fire and boiling water for dinner. Jenny lingered by the door, golden hair mussed, blue eyes flashing discontent, finally bursting: “Sister, they insulted you—why didn’t you fight back?”
Tiffany, back turned, black hair draped, replied calmly: “Arguing with them is pointless. You can’t change their prejudices.” She sliced vegetables, her fingers nimble yet frail.
“Problems need solving!” Jenny crossed her arms, leaning on the doorframe, defiant. “They slandered you and Cliff—I can’t stomach it!”
“How do you solve it?” Tiffany continued, the rhythmic chopping mingling with her emotionless voice. “With preconceived notions, anything you say is just an excuse, making things worse. Truth doesn’t matter when no one cares.”
“If words fail, reason with force! I’m in the right—I’m not scared!” Jenny flicked her hair, standing tall, flexing her biceps, exuding valor. “Remember how we got that half-pig?”
Tiffany shook her head helplessly. “Jenny, that’s not reasoning, it’s intimidation. They deserved a lesson for their lewd taunts, but beating them near death was wrong.”
“So, I was right, wasn’t I?”
“…Yes.” Cooking, Tiffany glanced at her sister. “But stick to facts.”
“Facts? I thrashed those creeps, and they apologized. Reason needs a hard fist.” Jenny waved her fist, relishing her triumph over the louts.
“Back to today—do you think they’re wrong? Cliff isn’t Valinor’s ally, not a traitor, right?”
Blue eyes hesitated, the whisper of “enemy” stirring unease. Jenny bit her lip, murmuring: “I… they… I think Cliff’s unreliable… a traitor… those Glendi folks are elf allies.”
“So, Jenny, even with fists, what are you proving?” Tiffany sighed, black hair falling. “Truth, or just easing your mind? Silencing others doesn’t work—truth never changes, and force can’t alter it.”
“But they can’t call you bad! I know you’re the best, just mixed up with enemy allies. You’re not bad.” Jenny ruffled her hair. “Why’s it so confusing? Sister, stop seeing Cliff.”
“You need to see the full picture, not just rumors and assumptions. Read, talk to different people—I’ll teach you. Stop wielding weapons or joining those bloody events; they don’t reveal truth…”
“No way! I fight monsters to support us—I’m a hero killing enemies for our country!” Jenny bristled at Tiffany’s dismissal of her alien-slaying efforts, her voice rising. “Soon, I’ll achieve greatness! Wipe out elves, demons, reclaim Goli, Tulun, Angre, Sachemani. I’ll go to Boni to meet the prince, witness his coronation as the Sun King in Gao Si! Your books are useless. If they helped, we wouldn’t be invaded, helpless, and you wouldn’t be with a traitor, selling out our country!”
Tiffany, unaware her wild sister knew such obscure place names, argued sternly: “Meet Buerri? Him as Sun King? It’s a miracle he’s in Gao Si. In six months, Gao Si will fall to Valinor. As long as the Elf Queen claims Gao Si, she’s the rightful Sun King. Buerri, or Bilia, suits him better—no one will recognize his claim. His father sold Gao Si; this country will be the elves’. Aliens aren’t monsters—they’re ordinary people, manipulated like us in this war of mutual harm. We can only rely on ourselves, join Glendi, and…”
“You’re deceived by Cliff, betraying our country, defending enemies!” Jenny trembled, fury rising, the whisper roaring: “Traitor! Traitor!” She clenched her fists, cursing: “You and Cliff are shameless traitors, daring to deceive me and everyone to abandon our homeland!”
“Deceive? Look around, Jenny—who’s really deceiving us?” Setting down the soup, Tiffany stood, ignoring the scalding spill on her dress. “What have Cliff and Glendi done to us all these years? What have Gao Si’s defeated armies done? What about the prince and nobles promising protection? During drought, famine, plague, who helped us? Who reveled in luxury in Goli? Why didn’t Gao Si’s prosperity reach us, yet now, with Goli fallen, they demand we swear to reclaim their…”
“Nonsense! Gao Si’s courage and honor are real—no one will abandon our capital. I’ll help reclaim Goli. That voice said we’ll defeat the enemy.”
“Jenny, battlefields don’t need hollow honor or rumors—they blind you. I can teach you to read reports and discern.” Tiffany’s golden eyes narrowed, wringing her dress, her tone cooling. “The worst deception comes from within—obsessing over abusing aliens is how nobles incite madness, turning us into irrational pawns for their gain. Jenny, for that inept, hypocritical prince…”
“Kill her,” the whisper urged, Jenny’s rage erupting. She grabbed a salt jar, hurling it at her sister. “Die, Tiffany! You don’t deserve to be a knight’s heir, insulting our lord! Why didn’t you die?” Her reason stopped her from drawing her sword. “You shouldn’t be in our family. Why’s a traitor like you my sister? I hate you!”
The jar struck Tiffany’s ample chest, bouncing off, grey salt dusting her damp dress. She flinched, golden eyes flashing anger, striding toward Jenny, hand raised to strike, but froze, fingers trembling. Taking a deep breath, she lowered her hand, biting out: “Go to your room.”
But Jenny, equally furious, taunted: “Don’t dare hit me, traitor?” Her blue eyes blazed, leaning forward, their firm breasts pressing. “You’re all about reason, right? Speak! What’s the reason for betraying our country? What’s your defense?”
Suppressing rage, Tiffany turned, black hair veiling her face, voice low: “Then I’ll go to my room… you clean.”
Jenny pursued relentlessly: “Let’s fight! Win, and I’ll let you off. Otherwise, renounce being a traitor and cut ties with Cliff!”
Tiffany stopped, facing her insolent sister, their ample breasts crushing unyieldingly, growling: “I won’t fight. I can’t beat you, but no one will stop me from seeing Cliff.”
Enduring the breast pressure, Jenny pressed closer, their chests flattened, smirking through strained breaths: “Then we sexfight! You saw it tonight. Born seconds before me, you act superior, bossing me around, flaunting your books, scorning my fists. No matter what, you’re fighting me. No confidence to beat your sister? Admit you’re a failed woman, deceived by Cliff, wrong about everything, unfit to be my sister, and stop controlling me.” Recalling the elves’ sexfight, Jenny’s blood surged, cheeks flushing, her tone fearless.
Golden eyes burned with shame and fury. Resisting the numbing pain of crushed breasts, Tiffany refused to retreat, her refined face flushing, shame and pain entwining, her voice trembling but defiant: “Fine! Sexfight it is! Loser obeys the winner.”
In the bedroom, candlelight flickered, the air thick with tension and lasciviousness. The wooden door shut, blocking the night breeze, leaving only the sisters’ standoff. Jenny, shy but resolute, shed her coarse skirt, golden hair cascading, her curvaceous body bared, full breasts with pink areolas, nipples erect from shame, her anxious blue eyes fiery, her taut waist and rounded hips exuding wild, sensual allure. Tiffany, bashful, slowly unfastened her grey dress, black hair flowing, her graceful form revealed, firm breasts with deep cleavage, slender waist, and plump hips, her hourglass figure radiating charm, her calm golden eyes hiding shame. Her elegant motions bared her erotic body, the sisters, long unaccustomed to such intimacy, now faced each other naked, cheeks flushed. The thought of their pure bodies engaging in an unethical, lascivious clash, blending combat’s intensity with feminine allure, cloaked their pale skin in a rosy, erotic glow.
Their eyes locked, knowing the die was cast, familial bonds crushed by ideological conflict, leaving only stubborn convictions and physical contest. Jenny struck first, lunging at Tiffany, hands seizing her sister’s breasts, kneading the quivering flesh, nipples swelling red. Tiffany moaned shyly, golden eyes tearing, body trembling, but swiftly countered, her slender hands targeting Jenny’s breasts, fingers pinching nipples, making Jenny bite her lip, blue eyes flashing shame. Their breasts crushed, no fabric shielding, swollen nipples clashing like charging knights, bending under pressure. The intense stimulation coated their ample chests in sweat, beads rolling through cleavages, glistening on silky skin. Their pale breasts collided fiercely, sharp slaps echoing. Jenny kneaded harder, aiming to dominate Tiffany’s breasts, forcing submission, while Tiffany’s touch was deft, fingers dancing over Jenny’s flesh, nails digging into pink areolas and nipples, eliciting pained cries. The breast-fight raged, Jenny’s wildness clashing with Tiffany’s strategy, moans and gasps intertwining.
Moments later, Jenny shuddered, her scream uncontrollable, her sensitive nipples overwhelmed by Tiffany’s pinching, fluids dripping from her slit, her first minor climax leaving her limp on the bed.
Tiffany, black hair disheveled, panted: “Give up!” Her cold gaze couldn’t hide the red, swollen marks on her breasts.
Jenny gritted her teeth, blue eyes flaring, lunging again, one hand kneading Tiffany’s breasts, fingers sliding to her slit, teasing her clit. Tiffany yelped, golden eyes blurring, body twitching, countering by tugging Jenny’s elongated nipples and probing her slit.
“Mmh… no, sister, don’t go inside… ugh, please!” The stimulation made Jenny tremble, pleading in fear. Even her bold nature crumbled under Tiffany’s intensifying fingers, realizing her naked vulnerability. Her combat prowess couldn’t halt her descent into pleasure, the bed’s sexfight offering no chance of victory. For the first time, she felt crushing defeat and panic, Tiffany’s deepening fingers threatening to shatter her dignity.
“Mmh… I won’t… aah… go inside, Jenny… this is only… haa… for someone you love,” Tiffany’s fingers didn’t breach Jenny’s virgin depths, grazing her clit, rapidly rubbing her wet lips, making Jenny moan and tremble. Feeling Jenny’s fingers probe her slit, Tiffany, enduring violation, sobbed: “Mmh… aah… Jenny, please… haa… don’t break mine either… mmh… I’m saving it… haa… for someone.”
Both kneaded breasts and teased slits, fluids spraying, sweat soaking the sheets. Tiffany explored Jenny’s sensitive spots, adjusting her rhythm to Jenny’s moans, fast then slow. Jenny’s blue eyes glazed, trembling, juices flowing, wanting to stop Tiffany’s fingers but knowing retreat meant defeat. Her toned abdomen tensed, fighting the urge to urinate, she roughly kneaded Tiffany’s clit and breasts, soon making Tiffany’s slit swell, hypersensitive, fluids gushing. Amid intense pleasure, Tiffany clung to consciousness, targeting Jenny’s weak points, but the tidal pleasure overwhelmed her. She arched, screaming, golden eyes glazing, juices surging, collapsing in her first climax.
“Aah… sister! I’m… sorry,” Jenny, seeing Tiffany’s collapse, her breasts and slit bruised, felt guilt. Despite the brutal violation, Tiffany spared her, leaving Jenny’s body pristine save for her swollen slit.
“Aah… Jenny, again,” Tiffany, tears in her golden eyes, struggled up, unwilling to lose Cliff or let Jenny continue her bloody hunts, her dazed mind fixated on defeating her sister in bed.
Candlelight flickered, the bedroom thick with a sweet, lascivious scent, the soaked sheets reflecting their sweat-drenched bodies, their disheveled hair clinging, their ample breasts heaving.
Facing her sister’s challenge, Jenny’s blue eyes reignited, panting, propping herself up, growling: “Aah… sister, bring it on!” She spread her long legs, pink lips bared, petals pulsing, dripping crystal fluids, her steaming slit taunting Tiffany.
Black hair clung to her sweat-soaked cheeks, Tiffany’s teary eyes resolute, rising before her climax faded, her trembling arms propping her, spreading pale legs, revealing thick lips, her wet slit glistening, juices flowing, her blooming core provocatively challenging Jenny.
Their slits, evenly matched, inches apart, heat mingling, fluids dripping, stirring a sweet, lascivious scent.
Before Jenny could react, Tiffany, tears glinting, lunged, her thick lips slamming Jenny’s slit. Their slits fused, pink petals scraping, clits clashing, electric pleasure exploding, moans intertwining. Jenny’s blue eyes blurred, breasts heaving, abdomen tensing, hips twisting, her slit crushing Tiffany’s. Tiffany arched, golden eyes glazing, hips writhing, lips countering Jenny’s, wet slaps echoing, juices splattering, lewd squelches reverberating.
Their moans soared, hips colliding, buttocks pressing, abdomens merging, breasts swaying, waves of flesh surging, slits fused, thick lips crushing, forcing petals to bloom, swollen clits scraping, their cores gushing, squelching.
Jenny’s toned abdomen tensed, legs clamping Tiffany’s waist, her slit slamming, clit piercing deep, forcing relentless pleasure. Tiffany’s flat abdomen tightened, hips countering, slit entwining Jenny’s, forcing moans.
Pleasure surged, Jenny’s blue eyes fogged, her glistening body dripping, her swollen slit flowing. Tiffany’s golden eyes blurred, her slick slit gushing. Both fought climax, writhing, tormenting sensitive spots, moans and wails intertwining, slaps echoing like a lascivious knell.
Fluids sprayed from their fused slits, drenching their bodies, soaking the sheets, the sweet scent pungent. Hips collided, breasts surged, their wails weakened, moans strengthened, bodies trembling, shame etching their refined faces, tears, sweat, saliva, and fluids streaming, dripping to breasts, sliding to abdomens, pooling in their grinding slits, splattering.






The prolonged, despairing sexfight pushed their bodies to collapse, their swollen slits aching, lips stinging with numbing pleasure, tidal ecstasy shattering their wills, their consciousness adrift in a tempestuous sea. Jenny moaned, blue eyes vacant, breasts swaying, fluids spraying from her nipples, her hips grinding, lips slamming Tiffany’s, clit targeting her sister’s. Tiffany wailed, golden eyes dim, hips thrusting, slit rubbing Jenny’s, her core kissing her sister’s.
Finally, Tiffany’s strength faltered, eyes rolling back, hips arching, her slit erupting, scorching fluids flooding Jenny’s fused slit. Overwhelmed by her sister’s inner torrent, Jenny’s core burned, her moans collapsing, eyes rolling, abdomen tensing, her slit gushing, searing fluids flooding Tiffany’s slit, her sister’s cries fading. Both convulsed, bodies quaking, their gushing slits drenching each other, candlelight glinting on their slick forms, sweat, tears, saliva, and juices pooling, soaking the bedding, dripping to the floor, rippling with a sweet scent.
After a long silence, Tiffany’s soft sobs roused Jenny. Her exhausted body ached, her slit stinging, both gasping as their breasts heaved. Jenny’s swollen slit clung to Tiffany’s, fluids flowing. Fighting another climax, Jenny parted their linked slits, her abdomen cramping, legs trembling, her slit numb.
Seeing Tiffany sobbing, face buried, Jenny’s heart ached, blue eyes tearing. Dragging her weary body, she crawled to her sister, murmuring: “Sister… I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have angered you.” She embraced Tiffany gently, sweat-soaked golden hair tangling with fluid-drenched black strands, soothing her sister’s pain. For a prince she’d never met, she’d hurt the sister who raised her. What was she fighting for? Jenny couldn’t fathom.
Tiffany trembled, her breasts, hips, and slit swollen with bruises, black hair veiling her tear-streaked face, nestled in Jenny’s tender embrace. As the candle dimmed, the room darkened, their entwined bodies sobbing, Tiffany’s cries heart-wrenching, silent, tears soaking Jenny’s chest.


The End ( For Now ,i guess )