Sulphur-Eyed Devil

Sulphur-Eyed Devil

By Azimuth J. Moore

1: A Midday Synod

A sacch'rine stream from barrow sprung

Atop a frost-cloaked land between

The icy drink sates only tongues

Of those unloved by slumb'ring queen

Theirs was a world in which badness strived at all turns against joy-- where man-hating xenoforms chattered at the barricaded walls of city homes, where blasphemers tainted cathedrals with their worship of pain, where the rough were held up by the caring hand and the kind spurned by it. Amidst these terror-tainted godlands, Zoe's smile was a sanctuary. Bright as the sun-sprinkled seas, as bountiful as summertime, that smile suffused every beat of Cassander's heart.

Once awash in thoughts of Zoe's graceful fingers intertwined with his, of kisses on her dark-brown cheeks by twilight, Cassander's mind was troubled by those same visions, but seen from afar. He couldn't eat this morning.

Magistra Nuha beckoned her students from the edges of the meditation field, to bear witness to today's examination fight. Pure and pretty Zoe, starshine amidst this dark world, was to test her skill in lust combat, against a wretched beast of a man.

Much was said about Qora. It was rumored that his mother was a dire lion, and like a lion, his long black hair signaled his masculinity. There were whispers that even honored magistras of the academy fed him berries from a platter. Even feared Nemesis, unmerciful valedictoria and reviler of all things male, wore a heart-shaped pendant in his honor.

It seemed it was only Cassander who saw what Qora was; just a man. A rough man, who with his cunning braid of smirks and lies-- or with arcane device-- had persuaded women to see his way, to worship at his ugly, pale, oversized dick like simpering dogs. It was a fate he would not let befall Zoe.

Her rich brown skin glistened in the hot noontide, as she came to him, bearing her gauntlets. "Help me arm-- would you, friend?" she said as sweetly as harpsong. Her leotard clung to her body like an embrace, betraying every slender curve, the supple dips in her hip, the modestness of her breasts. Appreciating her rightly was beyond the means of devils like Qora.

"Of course," he said, swallowing his nerves.

"Thank you so much," she beamed, and presented her arm.

He had practiced a hundred times to put on the clawed gauntlets she wore into battle, but the closeness of her arm, the aroma of her wavy black locks, did not fade from him for days.

"This is nerve-wracking isn't it?" she giggled. "Soon, we'll have to prove ourselves against the world. Go out into the city in search of our fortunes. It seems right to cherish these last few months of practice, before we advance."

"I feel the same way," Cassander said as he timidly clasped the buckles. He indulged in every brush of his fingers against her flesh, but his heart beat hollower every second. The fight approached; he was running out of time. If he earned her love, here and now, he could stop this affront to her dignity. She could have reason to withdraw, to know an expression of true love and not rough falsehoods, and Qora wouldn't have a chance to defile her with his mangy touch.

The words formed in his chest. An ode to her beauty-- of how her skin reminded him of the eventide ocean lit only by the skipping glow of the ancient clocktower; of her happy dance, the envy of every of the reveling hillside maidens; of her kinky hair unmarred by the bitter coastal wind. He declared, within, his eternal love, since their oldest days together.

He tried to pry them out, to speak for himself finally, but his poems all died in his dry throat. When he hesitated on the final clasp, she gave him a curious glance. "What's wrong?"

Faster than he could muster his real reply, a blank one came out. "Nothing," he choked, and tied her pauldron finally to her arming leotard.

"If you're sure," she said with a look of unconditional compassion. He always felt comfortable beneath that brown gaze, but here it just burned away his courage. She left, to take her place in the ring; it felt like a knife being dragged out from his chest.

2: Council of Devils

In drunken worship losers cry

Each illused a special fate

That from fell barrow she would rise

And he, not them, would be her mate

"Do try to put on a good show," Nemesis said with a venomous cadence. Her shiny black hair hung in high bunches; she held a notebook and quill in sharp blackened fingers. "I will be most upset if my reputation is tarnished because of your poor performance." She spoke to Qora, but her acid glare fell on a timid underclassman, who seemed to cum her panties just from being near enough to him to tie his rerebrace.

As she finished with his arms, Qora stretched them to his fingers, like a house cat. "I'm not going to let you spoil my day, Nemesis. The sun is out and the breeze is cool, I get to swing my sword at a hot bitch. The makings of a great afternoon."

"I will submit to nothing less than perfection, Qora, and if you are less than perfect, then I will spoil the rest of your life." Behind her words was an alien sort of hatred, as though violence bubbled up from her throat.

The underclassman hastily tied Qora's cuisses, her face swollen with blush, her arousal wafting into the shadow of his mighty twenty-inch cock. Though her face was darkened by its size, he could see her clench her lip, trying not to let on that she was smelling his swinging, macehead balls. Qora looked on with sympathy as she held back an embarrassed orgasm; Nemesis had no such warmth.

When she finished, Nemesis was quick to dismiss her from her kneeling position; firmly but not to hurt, she kicked her with a black stiletto heel. "Thank you for your assistance, whelp. I hope you appreciate how I arranged this perverse fantasy of yours. Now go."

"Yes, valedictoria; thank you, Qora, sir," she whimpered, and went in nervous haste back to the academy main, bowing as she went.

"Instead of worrying about me, you should do something about the other students." He ran his red-painted gauntlets down his slender chest, wiping away the frenetic and slutty kisses Nemesis left on him yesterday. "They treat you like an omen; they worry you'll flay them for sucking my dick."

"Speak not of my cruelty, Qora. I know you're excited to crush poor Cassander's dreams."

"Why not take joy in the inevitable?" he posited, as he shared a laugh with Zoe from across the fighting fields, who with a sky-wide smile gestured a finger across her neck. He snapped his grinning teeth back at her. "You know me truly, Nemesis-- that's why I cum in your pussy."

"Amusing. Control that huge dick of yours this time-- I'm still combing jizz out of my hair."

"That was on purpose."

3: War of Unwanted Justice

Unfathomed wastes and ancient seas

Across the land they sojourn long

They carry gold and obsequy

To see beneath her stony thong

The xenoforms crowded the crippled rooftops of Daevograd like buzzing cicadas, their faces flowering open, in a sharp chorus of hissing, spit-corded maws. Their asses mirrored blackly in the sun; the corrosive water of their pussies dripped in want of hunt so distantly denied by the chrome walls of the academy.

Still they leered, onto the council of students holding their breath in wait of war. A muddy pit lay amidst those students; sparse footfalls worked up brackish water, taunts and jeers cracked out from the crowd. "Show her, Qora!" "Get him, Zoe!" Qora, resting his neck on the crossguard of his zweihander, rolled his slender shoulders. Cassander overfaked a grin when Zoe met his gaze; it was as empty as his chest.

Magistra Nuha vaulted the fence; her nipples covered by crosses of tape, her tawny ass clapping around a g-string. Her bandaged arm leaned her on the poleshaft of a handcannon, barreled with a vicious, coiling dragon. "Fighters: today, win or lose, you will be scored on your performance. You will face one another in honorable combat, under arms, to test your knowledge of the arts of sex and weapon. Stand proudly, and battle fiercely; your class standings depend on it."

Qora and Zoe held one another's goading stare, their noses curling, their fanged smiles creeping wider. Zoe presented an open palm, and cocked a bladed fist at her waist; Qora left his greatsword idle, standing at his side, point in the mud. The true threat, the inevitable thing scarred in the place of Cassander's misty blinking, was the massive breeze-blown cock between his knees.

"Good luck," said Qora with a yawn; beneath the battering rays of sun it seemed he met Cassander's eyes instead of Zoe's.

"Better you have that luck," Zoe replied, giddy. "Otherwise it won't be close."

Nemesis scowled on, casting only one unmerciful glance to Cassander. His heart stuttered until she turned away as frigid as ever, and Nuha exited the ring to break their sight from one another; he swore she flipped through all his insecurities like scrawled pages; he swore she was amused by the pain she saw.

As the match of Nuha's handcannon closed to the powder, Cassander begged it not to, that he might wait here forever with his stomach in tangles, never to learn his future. The tears roiling like tides in his eyes failed to douse the fire, and the lance cracked its signal into the air.

Zoe split from her footprints, and burst into a sprint. She came lowly, under the shield of her left vambrace; her rear shoulder and right gauntlet curled up like a snarling viper head, her gauntlet blades like fangs ready to sink. Cassander whispered prayers to the Queen-Cathedral that her blows may fall truest, that Qora will lay low and battered before she was too greatly tarnished.

The man-beast stood with greatsword idle, watching her approach with the ready eyes of a predator. When his movements came, they were those of a snake, hidden and betraying; he slipped his hands to the hilt and the blade, and made to clash with Zoe's shielding gauntlet. The words spat up reflexively this time: "Watch out!"

Zoe dodged beneath the bludgeoning, flat-first swing of Qora's warsword, her knees setting for a spearing tackle to his waist; opening up, she readied to tumble him to the muddy ground. Cassander's relief caught in his chest between breaths; a sodden smack resounded through the battlefield. The crowd's gasps and cheers were dull for Cassander; he only heard that sound, rattling around in his stomach. Zoe's sweet, supple cheek-- the one so tenderly kissed by her frail old grandmother-- had been crossed by the swollen monster Qora called his cock.

When Zoe yielded to the blow, Cassander saw her face again, biting her soft, plump lip. She faced away from Qora, her gauntlet pressed into the sullying ground, her legs poised like a cricket, to kick. Though her cheek was striped wide and red, like the bands of a paddle, she remained steadfast; the corners of her mouth creeping upwards in what surely was a disgusted snarl.

Before she could spring her next attack, Qora stunned her with a blow of his body to hers. Her ass cracked onto his belly, the cheeks clapped around his oversized shaft. "Oh!" she squeaked. Before she could counter, his fingers spidered into her sun-richened hair and vised shut; her back valleyed and her face skewed skyward and lolled as if crying out. Again, Qora's hips slammed, and she spoke, nearly singing. "Ah! My goddess!" she huffed, her tongue curling over her teeth.

"Excellent reversal, Qora!" called out Nuha.

A horror wormed into Cassander's chest; it writhed around within and ate away at his composure. The wicked creature was humping her, rippling Zoe's gentle curves like tempest-tossed waves; his snaggle-toothed smile joined his cheeks, as he took his lewd pleasure from Zoe's innocent body. To his swelling terror, Qora's cock grew, as it rode in the cleft of her ass. Once, its head lay at the small of her back; now, coaxed by the rocking embrace, it fell between her shoulders at the apex of every thrust, and dripped defiling fluids on Zoe each time.

"Mm, Qora," she taunted him. Each word dug a deeper sickness into Cassander's stomach; he echoed to himself that it was only a match, but he felt no true relief. "I love how your balls feel as they pound my pussy! Your cock is so big, I can't stop imagining how it feels all the way in my soaking wet womb!"

"That so, slut?" he growled like a tomcat. The slick sound foaming up between Zoe's ass cheeks cut even through the lurid cheers of the audience. "You want me to stretch you all the way to your cervix? You want me to spread your womb open and take it for myself?"

Cassander could find no relief in closing his eyes, for there all their tauntings became real, their faces laughing at his expense, their bodies fucking in deep and irreparable ways, proving all of Qora's boasts of anatomical impossibilities. In that hellish deep, Zoe crawled on hands and knees, she sucked Qora's cock, and together they forgot all traces of Cassander. The sweaty and feminine scent of arousal wafting from the match field only grew louder.

"Yes, Qora, yes! You could fuck me deeper-- ah!-- harder-- ah!-- and better than any other!" Zoe's words came slower, bogged down in a lurid miasma; she had been enchanted or hypnotized somehow, by Qora's snake tongue or eldritch pheromone. Somehow, she was enjoying this, being bruised by Qora's balls, degraded by his cock, saying these hurtful things about Cassander. Never had he felt so small. "No stupid little fucking dick-- oh!-- could ever fuck me like your huge cock!"

"What a needy bitch you are," Qora said with a cruel laugh, swinging his monstrous dick again, to stripe her ass with his mark. Precum splattered in its path, splashing all faces from Nemesis, to Magistra Nuha, to Cassander's own blanching cheeks. It felt like molten metal, scalding his skin, overwhelming him with its thick smell. "Your juices are running down my ballsack, you're about to cum just from thinking of it!"

A scoundrelous smirk fought its way through her drooling lips and heaving breath. Like a gentle splash of pondwater, she spun around and batted away Qora's unsuspecting hand from her hair. A squishing of her boots into the mud, and she was faced and footset to receive Qora's mighty charge; he drove with his shoulders a brutal thrust of his zweihander, but with a flourish of her armored hand and a clanging like of a cathedral bell she cast it aside.

In a vicious counterattack, she speared her other arm in the space next to his fair, black-haired head, and wrapped him closely in her embrace. Cassander's heart finally splintered; her tongue and Qora's danced like lovers wed beneath clocklight, they drank one another's spit like wine. She kissed him like she loved him, like Cassander dreamed for so many years to one day kiss her, when the time was right.

She stared Qora in the eyes, their lips still joined by slobbery strings.

Then, breaking the quiet moment, she leapt up with Qora's shoulders as leverage, to vise her legs around his sweat-damp head. He managed to set his stumbling feet, and though he tried to jostle her loose, he failed. "What form! Great work, Zoe!" Nuha shouted.

Cassander could no longer delude himself; she was giddy, grinning as wide as she was in his happiest memories with her, as she rolled her hips and mashed her pussy in the face of the enemy. She shared her joy with the roaring students, who applauded her for this, her betrayal.

"Take that, Qora!" In moments, though, her gloating fell away to twitching, and hair-grabbing, and words that broke in her lips. "Oh-- oh, fuck, I think I'm going to--!" She tried to wrench herself away, but Qora's sword had bridged her legs, and locked them there while he ate around her leotard to take his feasting fill of her vulva. Her whorish juices drizzled onto Qora's chest, tracing lines like raindrops on glass.

Her legs were failing her, she was marking her lips with her teeth. Pleasure, the likes of which Cassander never got to show her, was overwhelming her. Her eyes, deep brown and swirling with the embers of lust, met with Cassander's for a few dull seconds; he could barely meet her gaze, but nor could manage to break it. Though that gaze chilled him, it seemed to fill her with a new fire of determination.

In a drastic measure before orgasm fully wracked her to helplessness, she bent backwards. She cradled Qora's cock in her hands, cuddling it deep in her cleavage, squeezing her tits around it as though to warm it. Her tongue, which just a little fateful time ago spun such aspirations to him, now gave wholly to the pleasure of Qora; she painted him in her licks and kisses until foam coated him from crown to ballsack.

"Do I make you feel so good, Qora? Do my titties make you yearn to bust a nut all over me?" she cooed, spit threading from her chin, to be frothed with precum by her beautiful, teardrop boobs.

From within the prison of her legs, Qora's mumbling took on an agitation, as twitches ran through his nethers. Cassander bore an unsettling witness, to Qora's cock, as it slipped effortlessly in and out of Zoe's mouth: in quantities undreamed of, cups nearly and more than what he jizzed in a week, Qora was precumming, washing Zoe's boobs in a creamy glaze.

"Sounds like you're about to jizz, Qora! Mark me, baby; make me your bitch!" she taunted him, a cackle bubbling up from her panting, sweating chest. She was offering him things Cassander only thought of in his bunk, and his defeated spirit could no longer argue that Qora wasn't ten times the man he was. "I'll suck your cock all day if you just let loose and jizz on my face, baby!"

Qora's balls lurched inside their sack, churning up and ready to unleash whatever monstrous bounty lay within. His hands, having abandoned his sword, now clawed paths in Zoe's ass cheeks trying to dislodge her from her roost. Her ankles crossed and sealed him there, until the shivering in his legs unseated him from his stand, and sent him splashing into the mud.

With eye-dodging agility, she pirouetted, and landed facing Qora's cock; she gave him just a few seconds' breath, before driving his head further into the mud by the force of her soaking pussy. Though with firm arms and clever hands, Qora moved her by inches at a time, he had lost. "Here it comes!" Three more pumps from both of Zoe's clutches, up and down his massive shaft, and Qora was set free.

A corona of white like the cloud from a cannon, a jagged spear like the trail of a comet, a splash like a glacier into a sea; a tsunami of jizz crashed into Zoe's face. In a moment, Zoe was hosed in it, from the hair Cassander watched so gently float in the wind, to the smile that tittered so singingly at his jokes, to the breasts he only knew when he fantasized on his pillow. All of her was awash, in sperm-laden slime, denser than honey and more plentiful than barrels-- a feat so out-of-reach he scarcely believed his eyes.

Zoe reared her head in rapture, finally unleashing the shocks of orgasm building beneath Qora's tongue to run rampant through her body. Every of her muscles flexed and spasmed, and her hands flew up to the sky to welcome Qora's jizz as though she were frolicking in the noontide rain. Like a drunk she drank it deep, as it fell on her face and crossed her brunette cheeks in glistening white lines.

"Cum, Qora! Cum it all out, baby!" she keened, joy fountaining out of her. "Jizz and jizz and jizz until your ballsack lies empty!"