Deathless Reign
Chapter 8
By: Noobwriter96
Ayleth was helpless as the monstrous Whisper treated her like slab of meat for his own twisted pleasure. Tears running down her face, the Power infused fluid that lubricated his gargantuan monstrosity of a manhood slid in and out of her overused vagina with such ease. Ayleth's tears clouded the edges of her vision until they were filled to the brim, streaming down her flushed red cheeks and into the puddle of saliva and tears. A trembling whimper would escape her lips with each vicious thrust.
Bent over and faced down with one hand atop her head as the Whisper pressed her cheek against the cold stone, such posture made her stomach pressed tightly against her own thighs, rump upraised as her exposed slit was assailed with such force, fluids spraying in a miniature explosion.
Her vagina was aflame, the walls of her folds twitched sporadically against the flaming intensity that permeated from the engorged cock that continually defiled her. Her own lips rebelled as each thrust sent an involuntary moan. Just as she thought that would have been the end of it, hands grasped her waist, as if a tool made for rutting and he used it to full force, the resounding slapping.
A rhythmic chorus that bounded off the enclosed shrine with his guttural grunts and her folds clinging tightly to his mammoth, both agony and carnal delight brough shame to her. In weakened whimpers and broken sobs was her state as another hot pouring of jism slid down, tingling her inner thigh stopping at the collected puddle of fluids that pooled beneath her.
Once more she was made to lay on her back, too exhausted and weakened to put up much of struggle. Chest heaving and flesh flushed the color of red. The fiend, lifted her legs to his shoulders and gain purchase as he gripped her ankles and buried his member once more into her nearly spent pussy.
Eight times did Whisper unload his loins into the acolyte's slit in a dozen different position. The beast had succeeded in what his dark masters have all sought, to gain a body and walk the Physical plain. With the Chosen of the Goddess spent and lathered in a blanket of his jism, he yearned for other flavors.
He turned towards the doorway leading to a world ripe for conquering.
As he took that first step towards his ambition, the world suddenly swayed before his eyes. He misstep and stumbled and just as fast as it had come, it was gone. The gargantuan undead shook his head, upset by what had transpired.
What was that? A moment of weakness? He was supposed to be powerful and invincible, an instrument of the cruel will of the Dark Gods. As he pondered, a hand suddenly gripped his foot and was surprised to see the holy woman still conscious. With all the strength she could muster, she crept up towards his chiseled thighs and grasped his cock. The Whisper was not threatened, only amused as he watched the woman cradled his manhood and put it into her lips.
The Whisper laughed.
He took it as her surrender and submission to her own inner darkness.
"
Yes, yes! Submit to your base instincts, Chosen
."
A new sensation, this time the allure of a tongue wrapped wovenly around his manhood. His toes were restless as was the tongue that explored and riveted the top helmet of his member, sending every nerve to their ends.
The depraved thought of his drenched manhood having soaked up the juices of her cunt and now savored by her tongue was more than enough to coax out another load from fruits of his loins. He cusped her puny head in his hands and worked her mouth, filling every space with the bulging intrusion of his member, keen to pour his seed down her throat. Tears formed once more in those precious blue orbs of hers, as she took his girth right into the confines of her mouth, the very tip sliding down the cascades of her throat. Saliva frothed at the sides of her mouth and down her neck in a waterfall of bodily fluids.
But upon reaching the pinnacle of his climax, another wave of dizziness assailed him. He staggered and was sent on his knees., vertigo erupting right behind his eyes. For a moment, The Whisper felt the consciousness of Reign within trying to break free from his mental prison. Diverted was his attention that he nearly missed the words of the acolyte.
"I knew it," strong and confident came the words from the seemingly beleaguered woman. Blonde strands of her sweat-drenched hair matted to her skin. She now stood, shoulders heaving and flustered, dress rend from his excessive rutting. The skirt of her tunic drenched in their fluids while the cut of her clothes' neck now revealed one pale breast, the pink of her nipple peering.
"You have indeed a massive power within you, but it is not limitless. You are no god, creature of Death," Ayleth bristled.
Much to his surprise, she stepped forth and parted her legs before him so that her fair-haired sex faced before him in a display of pure arrogance that annoyed the Whispers, "You will not harm the villagers, creature. Not as I draw breath."
Ayleth grasped the fiend's twitching manhood and gripped it as tightly. The animal instinct to survive told the Whispers this woman had become a threat, that he should deal with the Chosen of Nyella permanently. But louder were the words of the insatiable animal lust he felt, overriding any thoughts of preservation for another taste of her cunt.
The Whispers seethed out his teeth as her walls parted and clenched the membrane of his manhood with the purest intent of squeezing the last drop of his loins. she rode him, feeling and swaying her hips, teeth gritting as her nerves electrified with each tilt of his cock hitting her folds. Battered though her slender frame was, this was her revenge, the counter-attack from the humiliation and degradation she had suffered. She may have lost the battle but she will not lose the war for the soul of this village.
All the acolyte had to do was make him release all the monster's accumulated power into her rather than wreak havoc on poor women of the village. She owed them much from caring a complete stranger and taking her into their fold.
