Uzara breathed deeply to still herself, calm her racing heart and take control of her anxiety. She closed her eyes to stop looking at the massive gilded doors of her mother's domain she had passed through three years ago upon maturing into a dedicated servant and worshipper of the demonic Patriarchdom.
In her mind's eye she remembered all of the things she saw, places, people and cultures in her pilgrimage to visit every profane site of her gods and goddess. The love of the Patriarchs and their wife, the goddess of Sin, had touched all of the known world, the soil, the people and the air itself. She consulted with the thousands of broodlords who lorded over the domain of their Patriarchs in their name, learned their cultures and saw the true and undeniable love each demon bore for all things living.
Her fondest memory was that of the distant west, a metropolis of sin, decadence and corruption built upon the surface of a blasted wasteland. The people there were fraught with strife, disease and decay until their lord arrived to save them. Under the broodlord's rulership, water flowed in rivers and the people eagerly leapt into the benevolent demon's arms and welcomed into the fold. Such stories were many across the Patriarchdom as the demons came to do away with the needless pain and suffering, but this one resonated with her far more.
Just remembering the time when she was heavy with the broodlord's children was enough to have her leaking boiling cum out of her turgid and long nub-covered cock. She was just a simple demon like the millions of her brothers and sisters but her time as a youngling was at an end and a greater purpose awaited her.
She was an omnibus, those blessed with the shapely visage of the perfect demonic woman and with a mighty cock and virile balls above their fertile pussy, a profane joining of both sides and molded into perverted perfection. Her flawless tanned skin was unblemished with decadent piercings, her flesh immaculate for her goddess, her mother.
Her father was the Patriarch Omar, the powerful god-like being that formed a third of the triumvirate that they worshipped day and night, and as such her beautiful hair was a firey red and eyes a molten gold. Like many of her sisters, Uzara had the hourglass figure of wide, childbirthing hips and heavy but firm breasts that did not sag.
The braziers on either side of her crackled and snapped in the silence, as if waiting for her to finally decide.
She did. The tall demoness stepped forward, her body moving in seductive motions naturally with the spike of flawless bone jutting out of her bare heel only serving to accenuate her perfect thighs. Demons had no need for clothes, walking the world bare in all their perverse glory of diverse forms. She only had a collar around her neck, a collar she wore since she was brought into this world alongside a hundred more of Omar's sons and daughters.
Her palm pressed against the warm golden door and pushed one side of it open with effortless ease, her demonic body exerting the strength of a hundred men in a single push. The humid air of the grand hallway was then joined by the musky scent of demonic seed and Uzara was greeted with the sight of her mother bathing in a pool of it with her hung sons and daughters kneeling and constantly drooling seed into it, their expressions of everlasting bliss.
The air was filled with the gentle pitter-patter of thick cum falling into the pool and the crackle of burning braziers that lined the walls of the expansive chamber with hallways leading deeper into Sharia's domain.
Uzara could feel the loving magics upon her siblings, Sharia keeping them in a constant state of orgasm and bliss while she bathed in their thick, boiling and nourishing seed. The former goddess of hedonism lounged in the fruits of her children's loins, most of her body submerged except for her milk-heavy breasts and long and slender arms with her back against the edge of the pool.
"Come, Uzara. Join me." She purred seductively, her voice melodious and like honey to her daughter's ears and the hung demoness went to the edge of it before clasping her hands together in front of her large breasts and dove in absolute silence, her body cutting through the bubbling surface like a knife through butter.
Uzara swam the distance, her vision sharp despite the thick and boiling seed that made her skin tingle pleasantly, and she spotted her mother's lower body. Her legs were spread and her womanhood was today replaced with a throbbing and pulsating demonic cock with two of her daughters hungrily worshipping it with their soft hands and expert tongues.
The demoness would've joined them in their worship of the rare times when Sharia wasn't pregnant and instead eager to plant her godlike seed in quivering wombs but she had other business with mother.
She rose to the surface, seed coating her thickly but her flawless skin only cried for more of it, and she settled beside Sharia and gently pressed their lips together like long-lost lovers.
The gods of the demons knew each and everyone of their children by name, each one they kissed as a father, mother, lover and master, for they were all of those things and Uzara was putty in her mistress' hand from that kiss alone.
"I've been watching your journey closely, Uzara. I wept with joy when you held your first child to your breast and I cheered when your son sunk his cock into your loving flesh for the first time. You've been a wonderful demon!" She said with a loving kiss on Uzara's forehead at the end.
Uzara smiled brightly, her cock hardening from the praise and she wished mother would grasp and stroke it like the many times she did when she was younger. A gasp and then deep and happy purr rolled out her throat before the purring filled her chest with happy vibrations as Sharia reached into the boiling cum to grasp her shaft and stroke it with just the right motions.
"And now your pilgrimage is at an end. You've seen, prayed and loved in all of the profane sites in the domain of our glorious Patriarchs, and the seed is now ready to blossom. Are you ready to join the ranks of my finest daughters, my Bitches of Sin?"
Uzara's only answer was an orgasmic cry as the very question brought her over the edge. Sharia milked her cock with expert strokes as her daughter added to the pool and smiled at her. "Let us begin."
++++++++++++++
The nubile young girl's milky flesh was cutely flushed with undeniable arousal, the smooth and hairless lips between her supple legs slick with dew and dripping onto the floor through the razor-sharp opening of her chastity belt. Her plump lips were spread apart just a bit to let out soft exhales and her beutiful baby-blue eyes glittered with excitement as she looked down at the spectacle before her.
Each narrow dodge, each yelp of pained surprise when he failed, those were a sight to see and Cassia bit her lip as she shifted in her upright sitting position. The best were when dagger and shortsword collided, the keening metallic sound with an ungodly scratch when one or the other dragged their blade across.
The aroused girl watched two nude men, slaves both, as they danced in a fight to the death across the blood-stained sands of the arena. They were the fourth pair of today, celebrating the marvelous occassion that was Cassia's eighteenth birthday.
The young adult didn't care about that, however, ignoring the whistling and cheering crowd on either side of the balcony to devour the man wielding a chipped and worn dagger.
He moved with the preternatural grace of his elven people, sweaty and tanned skin glistening in the noon sun, and was only alive because of that natural talent while the better fed human slave aimed to disembowel him. Malnourishment made his muscles stand out a lot more, Cassia thought, flawless skin stretched taut across them and she could see them quiver and ripple even from here.
A hand on her breast distracted her, the spectacle down below growing blurry as she focused on the strong hand that cupped her rather small growth. It was sweaty and adorned with rings of gold, silver, electrum and platinum, each addorned with a corresponding precious jewel.
"Father, I'm trying to watch." She said, looking to the handsome man in his fifties. A military cut kept his graying hair practical and sported a well-maintained beard and mustache around his thin lips. When sitting, he wasn't as imposing, even in his panoply of war he wore whenever he went in public.
Today he'd gone lighter, only wearing his chestplate and greaves with the rest of his plated armor waiting at the palace. The chestplate was formed as a simulacrum of a male's well-defined and muscled torso, something many a man loved to wear to compensate for their flabby flesh but he was even better built underneath. At his side was always his legendary longsword that conquered and birthed the Veterius Empire.
Cassia, compared to the emperor, was positively nude as only a length of silk hid her breasts and the richly-decorated chastity belt made of sparkling mitrhal, making her feel like she wore nothing at all around her waist. The unbreakable thin chain of metal wound around her waist, resting on her wide hips, and also between the buttocks of her heart-shaped behind to join at the front with a subtle but firmly in-place cap that protected her virginity.
Emperor Veterius III pulled his hand away but Cassia knew he had much dirtier intentions as his skirt of metal-studded leather strips rose up from his considerable manhood.
Cassia thought it ironic as she looked back down to the fight where the elf was slowly but surely running out of options. Her father, for all of the concubines he's bedded, impregnated, he is still without a son. Great misfortune has befallen the third emperor as he could not sire a son and Cassia herself savoured such a fact despite having no want or need for the Bloody Throne.
The elf, in one reckless and desperate move, spun with a loud cry while bleeding from many cuts inflicted throughout the fight. The human was surprised by the sudden explosion of movement and that was his downfall as he was cut across the face and left screaming in pain on the sandy ground.
Cassia squealed happily for the elven underdog and rose up for her second judgement today. The one at the start and second had no time for her to decide whether the wounded lives or dies as both ended with certain death.
Her small hand extended past the rail of the balcony, the thumb pointing to the side, and she heard the crowd cheer two different sentiments. The atmosphere of the arena infected her, making her lithe body quiver from the energy and she felt herself drool onto the stone floor between her bare feet, and she met the elf's emerald gaze as he watched and waited for her decision.
She ruled the last fight with mercy as both women had shown true fierceness and dedication to survival, having only metal gloves to kill each other with, but this man's cries and begs for mercy disgusted her far too greatly. She turned her thumb downwards and the colliseum was filled with deafening cheer as the elf went over to the scrambling man and ended it.
