Chapter 102

Ember effortlessly sidestepped the wide, telegraphed, clumsy swing and continued on her theorizing about Charles’ sole seeming immunity to Ava’s milk. “Maybe you’re just too dumb to know what’s good for you?”

“I may be dumb, but at least I’m not a failed freak!” Charles shouted back.

Another swing, another wild miss.

“What abnormality convinces you to continue trying?” Ember asked. “Even you should be able to comprehend that you cannot win. If I wanted to, you’d be dead already.”

“You’re not as perfect as you lead on!” Charles declared and for a short moment managed to get a sliver of Ember’s attention. He then pointed to the redhead’s private area with his sword and screamed, his spit getting caught in his preposterous moustache, “Your unholy perversion is already coming undone! Just like you will!”

“Oh?” Ember looked down and only now realized that her temporary gift from Beatrice was shrinking. “Time must be up. So, she can use it again then. How about it, moustache? You want a proper cock to replace the thing that you’re so clearly compensating for?”

“I compensate for nothing!”

Swing and a miss.

Ember sighed. “I suppose the explanation is just that simple: all the goodness just got caught up in that floor mop of yours. Here, let me help!”

Charles barely had the time to blink before he had Ember’s hand at the back of his head and got thrown off his feet with a force that should not be possible for a girl of Ember’s modest frame. Before Charles knew it, his lips were around a hard nipple, and he felt delicious, thick liquid pour into his mouth.

“Argh!?” Ava cried out. The pricking of Charles’ thick moustache against her fair skin was far from pleasant.

“Oh, my bad,” Ember said and pulled Charles off the milky tit.

“Wh-what are you—!?” Charles barely had the time to process what he tasted. Yet that very taste might have softened what had come next.

Ember slid her index finger across Charles moustache like a match across the side of a matchbox and lit a spark. Except the figurative match wasn’t what was lit on fire.

“U-UAAAH!!” Charles screamed, his moustache burning bright and hot literally right under his nose.

“That’s what you get for scratching such sensitive areas with your old floor map,” Ember said and then grabbed the tit that Charles was momentarily fed on just moments earlier. “But don’t you worry—I’ll put it out ... When the time is right.”

And the time was right when Charles’ moustache was no more. Ember squeezed Ava’s tit and doused the few remaining spots of yellow-orange under Charles’ nose with an abundant layer of the only fire-extinguishing liquid she had on hand. By then Charles’ moustache was no more. And with no barrier to protect his mouth and nose, Charles was all but drowned in the stuff as Ember squeezed, again and again, filling up the Purple Cape’s mouth and nostrils to the brim.

“Drink up and thank the nice lady with your tongue!” Ember commanded. She yanked Charles’ chin up and forced the man to swallow before attaching him back to the very same tit to suckle on.

Ember held Charles’ head down as his mouth filled up with more and more milk. So much in fact, that his cheeks puffed up even as he tried to gulp as much of it down as fast as he could.

“No fair!! Why does he get special treatment!?” the other Purple Capes complained as they got around Beatrice, Ava, Ember, and Charles.

Joshua would not need much convincing to get in on the action, but even Felix now found himself increasingly unable to withstand another second without more fresh nectar, directly from the source. All six Purple Capes wanted what Charles got handed on a silver platter.

“Seven mouths, but only two nipples to suckle on, ain’t that an issue?” Ember laughed.

Olivia did her best to pretend she did not see or hear any of it while standing watch at the other door that led further into the Pits.

“I guess, you’ll just have to share!” Ember said to Charles and pulled the man off the tit before he drowned in the milk.

And yet, despite nearly drowning in Ava’s milk, Charles screamed and cried. Even as he was pulled away, Charles reached with both hands for the tit that kept releasing more and more nectar, the only thing that had any taste or substance in this bleak, hopeless, miserable world.

“Please!” Charles begged. “Please, I cannot live without it!”

“Get in line!” the youngest Purple Cape grabbed Charles and used him as a stepping stone on the floor to get closer to Ava, only to get kicked in the face and tumble backward right next to Charles.

“That’ll do!” Ember said to the seven hungry Purple Capes, keeping them well out of reach of the source of the milk.

And as Beatrice climaxed and poured her own white nectar into Ava’s pussy, Ava moaned and arched her back, and expelled even more nectar of her own all over the seven Purple Capes, all of whom accepted the gift bestowed upon them with spread arms and tongues out of their wide-open mouth.

“Oh, shit!” Olivia exclaimed when she saw several figures approaching their position. One of those figures had a familiar mark she saw once before. “A captain!”

“Ahn, you’re not too bad!” Beatrice whispered to Ava and stuck three fingers into Ava’s mouth and have the girl lick them like it’s a cock in a need of service while fucking the pussy of the lactating Purple Cape.

Not that Beatrice even needed to do much of anything. Ava continued to fuck herself as she lactated more and more. Shaking her hips and moaning like it was the greatest cock on earth while showering her comrades in copious amounts of her increasingly addictive milk, Ava was in heaven. Lost in heaven. In need of a heavenly cock to fertilize her with heavenly seed.

Ava may not have had the words for what she felt (not while worshiping the fingers of the woman that brought her to heaven), but her actions and orgasms spoke for her. And though Beatrice did not come here with express intention of cumming into every hole she could find, to feel this wanted was not bad at all. And feeling this fit girl—who was supposedly Beatrice’s sworn enemy—cum over and over while impaling herself on the fat demon fucker cock, was just enough to get Beatrice past her initial sex fatigue and into a mood for another creampie into a needy pussy.

-89.6 AP

Level31 (87%)

Still no level up, but Beatrice was coming ever closer to that next Skill Point after unloading into the pussy of a lactating brunette who kept the entire guardpost fed with her breast milk.’

“A captain!” Beatrice heard Olivia’s cry just as her cock shot its last spurts into Ava’s clamping pussy.

Olivia jumped back from the doorway through which a grotesque figure barely squeezed through.

“In the name of our great lord Belmot, what is the meaning of this shameless depravity!?” the figure bellowed with presumed authority.

A captain’s emblem on the chest of the man’s armor brought to attention his rank within the hierarchy of this place, but it beggared belief that such a creature could even stand, let alone be in position of power and authority in a unit that relied on strength.

The man wore a custom-made uniform. A grotesque modification of the standard and functional Purple Cape plated armor made to somehow wrap around the many layers of his absurdly large body. And large it was, but not because of too many nights spent at the gym. If there was a gym in this world, no equipment there would fit this Captain’s proportions for his largeness came in the form of the wideness of his torso and enough fat to lubricate a pan the size of this city. The biggest compliment the captain could hope for was that his body was approaching the perfect geometrical form: a sphere.

“Firebolt!” Ember fired off a simple fire magic from the tip of her pinky.

The fire bounced off the plated armor on the captain’s belly and the armor wobbled to the rhythm of the fat that it covered.

“Ha! Fool!” the absurdly obese man laughed and beat his belly like a drum. “You think that magic of such level could pierce through these layers?”

“Ugh,” Olivia looked at the captain in disgust and Beatrice couldn’t blame her. The captain could not have been any less than seven or eight hundred pounds in weight. He all but dragged his belly with each heavy step.

“Lesser men are incapable of eating enough to maintain such exquisite form!” the captain laughed proudly. “While they worry about the girth of their puny cocks, I train the girth of my gullet to stuff pounds of lard whole!”

Isn’t this city supposed to be starving? Beatrice asked herself.

“It took decades to cultivate this pure and natural armor,” the captain spoke as he slowly dragged himself toward Ember like a chemically enhanced, overfed lizard. “And you expected to pierce it with that level of magic!?”

“Ember...” Beatrice spoke her fiery bodyguard’s name in reminder.

“I know, I know,” Ember sighed in frustration.

The succubus was clear that Ember was not to use her more destructive magic unless absolutely necessary to avoid unnecessary casualties amongst the Purple Capes that Beatrice planned to use to gain more experience.

“Captain Grizwald!!” more soldiers came rushing through the door and appeared from behind their Captain’s spherical shadow.

“You stay back!” Grizwald ordered the dozen men and women that formed a line behind him. “As for the failures before me: Listen up! You have one chance to redeem your worthless existence! Whatever it is you think you’re doing, pick up your weapons and slice to pieces the three female sows that do not belong here and serve them to me skinless and deboned! If not, I will devour you after I feast on these insolent cows!”

“Miiiiiiiiiiilk~!” was the only answer Captain Grizwald got from the addicted Purple Capes that showered in the rain of Ava’s milk. They stuck their tongues out for it, they galloped it up, moaned, and masturbated to complement the pleasure of the most delicious meal they could remember in their shallow lives.

“Simpletons!” Grizwald shouted. “Your lives will not end swiftly nor painlessly! I’ll eat you all alive bit by bit, cook you slowly, one limb at a time! I’ll savor every juicy finger while you cry in delirious agony!!”

None of the milk guzzlers paid any mind to Grizwald’s threats. The Purple Capes behind the bloated Captain were far more intimidated, sweaty, and scared for what was to come when their Captain got like this. Each tried to increase the distance from their captain one inch at a time. No one wanted to be the closest to him, yet nobody wanted to stand out as the biggest coward. A careful dance of terrified chickens, all of whom secretly hoped that their grotesque roosted would somehow just drop dead.

“You, Demon Fucker!” Grizwald pointed at Beatrice who had Ava on her hard cock. “What did you do to Belmot’s loyal soldiers!? Undo your vile magics and I may show you mercy.”

“How generous of you,” Ember scoffed.

“I wasn’t speaking to you, Lucarad’s whore!” Grizwald growled at Ember.

“...”

“Oh yes!” Grizwald’s sickly fish lips formed a caricature of a smile. “Do not think I do not know who you are. A street rat like you living in our Glorious King’s palace? How many assholes did you have to lick to rise to Lucarad’s inner circle? Tell us: does he clean it after taking a shit? Or he has prostitutes like you to do it for him?”

“Curtain Fall,” Ember said.

“Wait, Ember—” Beatrice called out to the spited redhead, but it was too late. A wall of fire dropped from the ceiling right on top of Grizwald’s greasy bald head.

“UAAAH!?” Grizwald’s Purple Capes scattered from the searing flames that engulfed their captain. They pressed against the walls, several of them ran through the door they came through before the fire cut off the exit.