darkest_fate
machina erotica
- Joined
- Dec 17, 2009
- Location
- the INTERNET
Someone new had arrived. They various hordes had all felt the slight rip, that slight change in the fabric of existence that indicated that someone had indeed slipped into their world. it happened, from time to time a human would slip from dream into this world of nightmares. The demons couldn't contain their howls and screams of delight. Fresh meat. Fresh meat had slid into their grasp.
But it would be the higher echelon who would discover just what kind of meat. would take the new foundling and introduce them to this world of terror. In particular, Xenoth, a demon known for his skill in breaking the spirits of even the most rebellious foundling. The massive creature stood nearly ten feet tall, taloned and rippling with muscle. His equally impressive member lay beneath a codpiece, a bit of armor designed to defend just in case the foundling got feisty. That rarely lasted long, of course, and it usually proved more entertaining than anything else.
Xenoth stretched, slowly stalking his way toward the foundling. Years of practiced and honed skill guided the master demon toward his prey, and he could already feel her confusion, smell the fear. the harsh world didn't easily welcome the uninitiated. Not that it generally mattered to the demons. Foundlings had few purposes: bearing young, pleasure, and generally eventual food.
Thinking of pleasure himself, Xenoth approached the foundling, noting her position and posture, his great mouth parting, a long tongue extending to quickly lick his lips. Quite a delicious site, this. And he'd be the first to sample such treasures. He took a step closer to her, moving to within sight, making himself known.
"Your name, foundling," he bellowed. His voice boomed, loud enough to vibrate bones, almost enough to make the landscape quiver. All to further intimidate the little lost foundling.
But it would be the higher echelon who would discover just what kind of meat. would take the new foundling and introduce them to this world of terror. In particular, Xenoth, a demon known for his skill in breaking the spirits of even the most rebellious foundling. The massive creature stood nearly ten feet tall, taloned and rippling with muscle. His equally impressive member lay beneath a codpiece, a bit of armor designed to defend just in case the foundling got feisty. That rarely lasted long, of course, and it usually proved more entertaining than anything else.
Xenoth stretched, slowly stalking his way toward the foundling. Years of practiced and honed skill guided the master demon toward his prey, and he could already feel her confusion, smell the fear. the harsh world didn't easily welcome the uninitiated. Not that it generally mattered to the demons. Foundlings had few purposes: bearing young, pleasure, and generally eventual food.
Thinking of pleasure himself, Xenoth approached the foundling, noting her position and posture, his great mouth parting, a long tongue extending to quickly lick his lips. Quite a delicious site, this. And he'd be the first to sample such treasures. He took a step closer to her, moving to within sight, making himself known.
"Your name, foundling," he bellowed. His voice boomed, loud enough to vibrate bones, almost enough to make the landscape quiver. All to further intimidate the little lost foundling.