Page 79
Story: The Dread of Damned
I entered her all at once, and her mouth opened in surprise before a moan of utter ecstasy escaped her. It seemed to come from the very depths of her soul as her juices splashed around my cock, marking her first climax.
The softness surrounding my dick, the heavy mounds in my rough hands, drawing blood and reshaping them with cruel intensity.
.. I was too far gone now that I was finally inside my mother.
The realization that I had claimed her, that she was mine now, heightened my pleasure along with my sensitive member disappearing into her welcoming warmth.
"Ah, just like that," she shuddered as I let loose the full extent of my depravity, holding back nothing.
My cock disappeared and reappeared from her pussy with each thrusted as I bit into her large breasts, filling my mouth with her blood.
Her hands closed around my horns, giving a strange but pleasurable feeling as I sank my fangs deeper into the warm, soft flesh of her chest. Her moans filled the scented night air alongside the sound of slapping that echoed through the facility as my balls slapped against her plump pussy lips.
I bit again and again, the taste of her sweet blood and the hot silkiness my member was enveloped in bringing me to new heights. More so was the fact that this was my mother. I had claimed her, and she was mine - mine only! The twisted thoughts broke my waning sanity further.
As I thrust with inhuman speed and force, each thrust sending ripples through her soft, supple and plump body, the sight only made me wilder.
I raised my hands, and they came crashing down on her milk jugs.
She cried out as I held nothing back, her folds clenching around my dick.
More juices filled her insides before spilling everywhere, marking her second orgasm.
I did it again, the red marks now clearly visible on both her breasts along with the deep bite marks from my fangs.
I did it once more, feeling pure happiness fill me.
The pressure built in my balls reached an unprecedented level, making a jolt of tantalizing pleasure flash through me as they slammed against her pussy lips.
I knew I was close, and my mother had also built up her third release under the assault on her tits and body, my throbbing shaft wrecking her insides.
I saw red under the force of my eighth climax in a row, probably the tenth or eleventh of the day.
My hands closed around her throat in a harsh grasp as her soft pussy convulsed around me.
I saw her red, gasping face and watery eyes conveying the peak of pleasure she was feeling.
The look silently begged me not to stop as I increased the pressure on her neck.
I was teetering on the very edge as I felt her hands trace my body, coming to rest between our joined parts.
As I thrust one final time, my dick disappeared completely inside her folds, her juices escaping around me to mark her third orgasm.
Her hand held my balls in her soft grasp, massaging them as the action finally tipped me over into sweet release.
I came undone, my own pleasure wracking my being as I could feel the hot seed and essence spurt from my dick, drenching her folds.
I stayed like that for a while, reveling in the pleasure that filled my entire being as I pumped rope after rope of essence into her. All I could think about in my hazy mind was that finally, I was one with my mother and one with my sister.
How I got up after that, or how I lifted my limp sister into my arms as my mother led us outside the facility, I couldn't remember. Maybe that's also why I hadn't noticed the other presence in the room, the huge, trembling shadow in the far end of the facility, behind a tree.
It was Thalor Aestherisin, the proud head of House Aestherisin who had sat on the highest seat of power in the whole territory earlier that night, now wearing simple white trousers and a shirt that hid his figure.
Even those clothes could not mask the trembling bulky body beneath them or the three-inch erection that stood between his legs.
He wasn't there from the start. He had just seen the slightly open door of the facility while passing by, drawn by curiosity.
His ears picked up his wife's cries. He looked from afar, saw his daughter's sleeping face, and turned around.
He wasn't a beast; he didn't want to see his daughter involved in such scenes.
But his unfulfilled desire, his recently awakened beast roaring in his mind, made his every retreating step heavy, compounded by the crying and moaning sounds of his own wife.
Under their joint pressure, he finally succumbed, but he still couldn't completely abandon his morals.
He did look back but walked to a far end of the hall and sat behind a tree.
He would not look, but he could hear—hear the sounds of his wife praising her son, the moaning and slapping, a symphony of their pleasure, igniting his own.
His beast roared in his mind as his dick strained his trousers, forming a wet spot on the top.
Even his nipples ached as he slowly opened his trousers and looked down at his own shameless desire pooling on the ground.
His big hand slowly enclosed around his member, enveloping it between his rough hands completely.
His arm moved with a speed almost matching the sound of slapping that echoed in the room, the harsh slaps making him jerk as he leaned against the tree.
The moaning and grunting and slapping became a backdrop to his pleasure, a music to his beast's ear.
Aiding in his pleasure, his other hand went inside his shirt through the opened upper three buttons, and one could see them enclosing around his hardened, aching nipple through the almost transparent-looking casual shirt.
The stopping of the sounds signified his release as he came with more fever than he had ever felt before, making his huge, hulking frame tremble in its aftermath.
He saw his wife and son, along with his daughter, walk out of the room, and even in his current state, he didn't miss the look in her eyes as they locked with his before she walked out.
He could never fool her; she would never miss his presence in the room. And in his own wrecked state, he hadn't even tried to mask his presence.
He had reached his climax, and the facility was empty, but even then, his desire did not subside.
He bowed down on his knees, his face on the ground.
His burly hands again moved with speed as the musky, sweet smell of what had just transpired in this room still filled his sharp senses, making him more and more sensitive.
"It is me, All me," he finally confessed to no one in particular, or maybe to himself. As his hands did their work, he felt some of his beast's persona becoming one with his own conscience.
"ME, only me. There is no beast," he cried as his choked sobs echoed in the empty facility along with his grunts and the rustling of his hands.
Table of Contents
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