{Trigger warnings: rape, non-con, watersports, filthy descriptions of sex and semen, fantasy elements, mention of human milk, foot fetish, humiliation, elements of forced incest, dom/sub, mild violence, mind-break, romance.}
Mazelial and Marvin enjoyed a peaceful swim in a lake together. Some time has passed since they both agreed to pursue a romantic relationship and the fire between them kept growing stronger.
"For you, my love," Marvin smiled, plucking a creepy black rose from a bush growing next to the lake. It had unhealthy amounts of long mutated spikes, but he managed to avoid them all.
"A hellish rose, how romantic." Mazelial accepted the gift and swam closer, falling into Marvin's arms and hugging him. "I've missed you. Now that we're getting ready to the Rite of Ascension, I have so little time for you..."
"That's alright, love." Marvin looked him in the eyes with nothing but passion and seriousness, and then they kissed. Gently and deeply as if they were just getting to know each other.
After the relaxing swim in salty waters, they stepped out on the grey meadow and rested there for a while, kissing and making love. During that, Marvin whispered things to Mazelial that made the nearby black roses red from jealousy.
Their special bond finally picked some interest among other Masters. His friend Marcus revealed that he's been gossiping about it behind Marvin's back and apparently it's a pretty hot topic. Marvin thought it was quite amusing, but at one point, even Goliath himself questioned him about it.
"Marvin, what are you doing when you spend private time with Mazelial?" For such a gigantic lumberjack-looking muscular man, Goliath had a pretty normal, although still very manly, voice, while one could expect a barely understandable trollish tone of a dimwit.
"We're having... a relationship of sort," Marvin answered carefully. He wasn't afraid of Goliath, but angering the First Demon who was about to ascend and become Mazelial's equal in status would just create unnecessary issues.
"Like romance?" Goliath raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, something like that."
"And you're expecting this relationship to become exclusive to you two only?"
Conversations around them -- as Goliath asked this question in the throne room, when many other Masters were around -- got really quiet all out the sudden. Everyone seemed to wait for Marvin's answer.
"Not at all." Marvin chuckled. "Mazelial and his slaves must be harvested. We both understand this and accept this state of things. The goal is for all of us to become Archdevils through Mazelial's power. Even after I become an Archdevil, I will expect Mazelial to give himself up to the new sinners who will fall into Hell."
Satisfied with this answer, Goliath nodded and brought a mug full of milk to his lips.
While the preparation to Goliath's ascension became the main focus of most slaves and Masters, Marvin visited his scientist friend, Sigmund, to once again use the machine he prepared to extract energy from slave boys sent into coma by Goliath's magnificent cock.
Said slave boys were placed in nightmarish torture machines that overstimulated them, penetrating their subconscious and forcing them to produce energy. It was pretty fucked up, because normally they would just peacefully sleep. Sigmund found a way to turn that sleep into energy, not concerned about the agony they will have to endure that way.
Marvin allowed his friend to inject some kind of serum into his vas deferens, which made his balls produce infinite amounts of milk to unload during orgasm. That way, when he entered the naughty machine on the other end, which milked his cock and prostate, he could absorb all of these boys' energy via nearly never-ending orgasm. The ridiculous pleasure created that way was so overwhelming, that Sigmund had to gag Marvin from time to time, because he would just moan like a bitch in the heat, attracting attention.
"Brother, you good?" Sigmund asked on one occasion. Marvin was strapped into the machine for what felt like days. His head lied in a puddle of his drool, his eyes got lost in the skull. His cock was swollen from overstimulation, balls felt heavy because of the constant production of semen. His ass was sore from the rod stimulating his prostate. But he still felt soooo good... it was the only thing he felt. His thoughts were empty, mindless, drowned in a bliss of this orgasm that would just never stop. "You look as if you suffered major brain damage..."
"Don't make it stop," Marvin mumbled weakly. His brain was numb from pleasure.
"I will soon have to, my friend... The consuming flower suckling on your cock got so fat from all the semen you fed it, it's about to swallow you with the entire bed. I will have to cut it and replace it."
Slick warm lips of the plant indeed continuously demanded fresh salty milk from that veiny tap of his. Marvin didn't even notice when, but the plant released lots of thick veins that wrapped themselves around his muscular legs and arms, in hope of forcefully keeping him on the bed and not letting go.
"I can smash it with one hit," Marvin whispered confidently, sensing all of the power he gathered during that time raging inside of him. But he didn't want to hurt the plant just yet. At the moment, they both were in a state of perfect symbiosis. "How are the slaves?"
"That's actually a very interesting question. Curiously, some of them began weeping and having compulsions. I've had to tie some of them down to make sure they don't escape stimulation. Some of them regularly cry."
Marvin moaned in pleasure. Hearing this, his sadistic side rewarded his orgasm by enhancing it even further.
"Inject more of your serum... I want to keep shooting loads..."
Sigmund nodded and reached for another syringe. At this point, Marvin barely even sensed the two stings of the needle.
Sigmund was right about the consuming flower, however. After he left, the plant grew strong enough to lift Marvin up in its branches and remove the bed from under him, to give itself a space for growth -- all while continuously milking him. The vines spread his legs and arms, pulled the plug out of his ass and instead filled it with some eggplant shaped fruit that filled the same role of stimulating prostate, but perhaps even better. Even some wet little flowers subjugated his nips to the similar type of stimulation his cock was enduring. The vines got quite greedy, as some thick shoots wrapped themselves around his neck, stabilizing him and slightly limiting the air supply, making him lightheaded. Vines tried to open his lips to push an eggplant inside his throat, clearly copying the stimulation pattern forced upon the boys in coma by Sigmund, but this was a bit too much and Marvin used his power to easily tear the vines around his neck, to show the plant that he's in this situation because he consents to it. The hellish plant seemed to be intelligent enough to understand it, as it stopped trying that and instead brought some leaves to tickle Marvin's exposed armpits and soles. Marvin allowed it, even though it was frustrating, simply because he felt a big positive difference in energy flow. The worst part came when he suddenly felt tickling of his peehole. The plant pushed a long stalk inside of his dick, that reached grew and filled his genitalia from the inside. It didn't hurt, but he could sense characteristic tingling and tickling inside of his dick, scrotum, prostate, ass and even deeper. He considered that as a serious breach of his consent, but he chose to just endure, because hurting the plant now would be simply counterproductive.
The long-awaited time of the ceremony finally arrived, announced by the sky of Hell changing color from red to violet. When Sigmund visited him again, Marvin was already free from the plant. It tried to fight back, to stop him and keep the milking going forever, but it indeed was no match for Marvin. He spared it, however; it served him well, even if it would mercilessly force him to endure a terrible fate if it could. If it was a powerless slave boy trapped in it, the plant could do literally anything to him. This thought was yet another delicious argument
against
killing the thing.
"You see this?" Marvin asked, moving his arms and flexing his muscles as they walked towards the throne room. "It took time, but I feel so fucking strong..."
"The results are impressive indeed," Sigmund admitted. "Especially if you consider that you've been charging from only fifteen boys. And there are hundreds that we could use..."
"There's much more than that," Marvin responded. "We could trap the conscious boys like this, too."
Sigmund scratched his chin making a loud "hmm..."
"Interesting concept," he admitted. "But it would be difficult. I won't have enough resources to make any more of the serum that makes orgasms last for days."
"Everything is doable. You would just have to import the ingredients from other domains."
"Well, I guess it could be done that way," Sigmund admitted. "Perhaps I should consult this with our new First Demon, whoever it will be."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Marvin carefully began plotting. "Goliath will most likely name Ramon as his successor. You know Ramon?"
"The big Argentinian with dad bod who makes boys fuck each other for his amusement?"
"Yeah, that's the one. Ramon has very strong views on Masters and slaves being on two very distinctive levels of hierarchy. And no offense, but using your machine, I felt kind of like a submissive bitch, brother."
"Well, that's terrible. It took Goliath ages to reach this level. Ramon will be our First Demon for similarly long period," Sigmund frowned.
Marvin suddenly stopped them, looked around and got closer enough to whisper something to his friend with a sinister smirk.
