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Releasing the Priesthood

The Inquisition has more on its plates than a few “demons”.

The constant blabbering of peasants surrounded me at that instant. Nothing more than the chatter of their daily lives, droning on and on about their fields, the beasts, or how Torm’s church was such a boon to the town.

I tried to feign ignorance or to act as a mere traveler, a coat slung over my shoulders to hide my body, refined by the Inquisition until it was a weapon to wield against our enemies. Even so, I had an enchanted amulet that made me look less desirable and interesting, allowing me to walk around with no one giving me even a parcel of attention. A situation I used to my advantage, like I did before, while exploring the town placed at a crossroads.

Weeks ago, Torm’s church received a report of a devilish presence among our flock. One that had tried to breach into a village protected by Bahamut’s grace. The report had been unclear, mainly mentioning an Imp serving as a scout and prodding among the populace, and traces of it on an inhabitant that had since been captured and purified.

Nevertheless, there was little information, and it had been my duty to figure out the source of that devilish presence. And handle it without raising any suspicion.

My nose lifted, I could smell the faint odor of sulfur hanging through the streets, like the three other towns. It was heavy, heady, yet none of the inhabitants seemed to care. Rather, they only cared about me sniffing around. And even with the amulet and my natural discretion, I was threading carefully.

Last three towns? I was chased for the simple crime of being around, something that ought not to be under Torm’s rules. Nevertheless, as I snuck back to the main road, with a map of the potential targets and places to investigate, I heard a chuckle behind me.

I looked over my shoulder, but there was no one. Yet, the stench of sulfur was so strong I had to cover my muzzle, hide my nostrils while I looked around, feeling someone gazing upon me. And hearing the chuckles that made my ears twist.

“Show yourself!” I shouted, my voice imposing as I clutched the symbol of Torm in my pocket, trusting my God watched over me and channeling that faith into power.

Yet, there was nothing.

“Pshh. A trick,” I mumbled, ahead of myself and scornful, while I returned my inspection to the main street. Already had I found a house near the Dragon’s Rest, the biggest Inn, to be the most promising target. And-

_“Hehe. Look at him. I told you.”

“Sooo meaty and faithful. We could take him. He is of the same ilk.”

“Don’t know. He is far too serious, like a fire.”

“Like one in his groin?”_

My ears dropped while I threw my coat over my head, akin to a cowl, but I continued to explore. My gray fur bristled as I felt their gazes upon me. And somehow… A touch? A caress? Not on my skin, but onto someone else. I gritted my teeth, feeling the tension racking me over the coal. What a desperate attack, but I tried to remain stoic and strong as my paws led me to the inn. I already planned to take a room there, as they were fine with Wolfborn, like me. Plus, the target made it almost mandatory for me to trade an excessive amount of coin for a poorly furnished and maintained bedroom under the roof.

The sole window was perfectly aligned to see that house from inside. Yet, I could still feel I was watched. Even when I pulled all the ritual trinkets from my backpack, the presence remained. It had to be a powerful Devil. Or an Archdevil. Or something like that, I thought. I had been trained to fight fiends and knew of their influences. But when I placed the ritual candles around the room, lighting them without feeling the presence abating, I knew… the situation that was more dire than expected.

However, since I couldn’t feel any cultists' presence or animosity, I knew I could still explore and get everything that was needed before reporting to the Inquisition. At least, that was how I settled in the little Brigsburg, counting on the townfolks to ignore me this time.

To pay no heed to the weary Wolfborn seeking to buy supplies, rest, and get random sundries. They couldn’t know I was a part of the Inquisition… They couldn’t know…

“Inquisitor Rowlan. Thirty-three years old, taught martial prowess by the church. Has vowed chastity. Fancy pedigree, don’t you think? Fancier than what we got.”

“Clearly. Meatier, too.”

My ears twitched as they often did when I noticed the voices around me. Whenever I was outside I could hear those comments on my actions. Two voices, but it was obvious one of them had to be a subordinate. Each time, I tried to ignore their voices and focus on the task at hand. Snooping around, opening a basement window, slipping inside through crawling, and exploring the wine cellar. No caskets were marked, none had any secret opening. None had any… Traces of hidden entrances, even as I knocked on the stone.

“He’s searching for a secret passage?”

“I think so. Isn’t he cute?”

“He is… It’s too bad he can’t figure this one out!”

The uproarious laughter was infuriating, but I tried to crush the feeling down as I had my ear pressed against the cold stone, no… No passages. Or if it was, I needed more than my senses to feel it. I scowled, feeling lost as I had to slip outside through the same window, narrowly avoiding one of the inhabitants descending to the cave.

Still, with the scent of sulfur and… Other fluids sticking to that basement, I was certain there was something foul. Enough as I began to tap my chin, barely heeding the distant voices speaking to me… And… Chuckling, again?

I ignored them as I was back out on the streets, narrowing the market and one of the nearest shops I marked when…

When something hit me.

A touch, a caress. No, a pinch. I felt them. Some clawed fingers reaching and pinching a nipple. Not mine, but I could feel it like mine as the flesh was twisted, pinched, pulled, rolled. My heart skipped a beat, and I narrowly stumbled as I continued, accelerating my gait to slink away from the chariots. But here was a second touch, another caress, one on my posterior, feeling someone’s fat posterior being lifted and massaged. In return, I felt mine, muscular and fit, pressed all the same. I felt… My crevice forced open. I felt the presence brushing the inside, almost reaching a place that ought not to be touched by a man of faith.

I gritted my teeth, crushing down the shame and anger as I reached one back alley, the houses’ shadows making it easier for me to stay discreet while my ears were nibbled on, left and right, together.

_“He is so cute. So delicate.”

“They’re always the most sensitive. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Watch this.”_

I heard the voice as I slumped near a water barrel, hiding behind it as I breathed, trying the exercises to control myself. Those hands were still going over my chest, pinching one nipple after the other. But the one of the buttcheeks had delved deeper and it was now… Brushing the entrance, the hole. I felt how the one that was touched was swollen and needy. Which contrasted with mine, tight and unprepared. Nevertheless, as the finger delved inside the entrance, I yelped in pain and horror. And pleasure.

I had never been touched that way.

I had never been abused that way… I-

_“Maybe we could spice things up.”

“How so?”

“Maybe if he can go to the other side of town without getting caught, we’ll stop. Isn’t it? Torm-boy?”_

They spoke to me directly. I assumed they didn’t care if I listened or not, that it was a petty trick. But as I recovered my breath, naturally clenching my butthole, I looked up. And saw nothing, of course. But then, I experienced a warm and impossible presence brushing against that foreign posterior, and therefore mine.

I felt a penis, uncut and massive. Something that was almost as big as my arm, swaying and moving. I felt its presence as it smeared precum on the male’s hairy ass, and so it was on my fur, or so it felt.

I grumbled, feeling the sheer width pressing on my crevice, prying my buttcheeks apart without having any defense to offer. They cursed me and without even seeing it, I was in their spell. I could feel what they did, their hands, their touch, their presence.

Every action they did echoed onto my body like I was one pet of theirs. And they chuckled at the thought.

I grumbled, pressing against the water casket.

“What…” I started, feeling my legs weak. But not enough that I couldn’t impose my will.

“If you go to the Guard’s garrison without cumming, little Priest, we will let you go. Don’t you think?”

“I don’t… Deal with Fiends,” I mumbled, unable to tell now if they were demon or devilspawn.

“But we can do worse. And there’s nothing to lose. Unless you are afraid.”

“I am not.”

But I was. They could prod me, knew about me, and seemed to have deep ties in the Torm’s church. They were a danger I had to deal with, but couldn’t. But what they offered was maybe a respite during my investigation. So… Instead of turning my steps to the Dragon’s Rest, I walked away, towards the guard’s garrison.

“Good boy.”

The cooing did nothing to please me, even if my tail wanted to wag like a mere pup. I controlled it, like I controlled my gait, as the creatures seemed content to play with my nipples, pulling on them. Still, I could feel them erect and rubbing against the linen shirt I employed for my investigation.

My breath was fast, and I could feel they getting a feel of my body, where I was sensitive. Pecs, abdominal waist, armpit. I steeled myself but yelped when they got their hands on… The male’s penis. Mine.

I yelped as I felt a touch that was almost electric and painful. Something I had not expected to feel. They managed to pierce my most intimate defenses. With it, they had my penis in their grasps, touching… Stroking it, playing with the corona, pulling on the frenum.

My hand on my chest, my heart drummed while the hands pumped slowly. Even then, even with the care, the sensation was far too intense. My legs almost bucked, my breathing was too fast.

And I was almost at the market, feeling my pants dripping.

“There’s… Nothing to lose,” I mumbled, forcing my weak legs to go… Faster.

I did not walk. I did not run. But I was in the awkward middle of fast walking, my hands beating against my hips while I forced the path, moving like a rock or an avalanche to force the onlookers and bystanders away. I had to move. I had to run and...

“HRMPHHH!”

It took all my will not to shriek in the middle of the market or drop cold. My steps and pace, however, were stopped as I tottered to an unattended stall, my face covered with sweat and my legs trembling.

“No running. It’s cheating,” chuckled the devilish creature.

My eyelids were still heavy from the shock as I felt my asshole puckering and yet forced open. There was… No one, nothing. Yet, through the link, through what joined us, I felt my asshole being stretched so wide I could slip my hand inside.

Somehow, somewhere, the Fiend had started to fuck the male. The poor creature was a moaning mess, but unbothered. Me? I had to hold onto the stall like for dear life. My tongue even lolled out as bystanders seemed to look and sneer at me.

They probably thought I was a vagrant or a sick folk seeking the nearest church. Or maybe they were with the creatures?

Nevertheless, I froze as I felt that enormous penis press inside my inner walls. And it was, somehow, the most egregious and tantalizing sensation I’ve experienced. I heaved, unable to resist as my feet delved into the soft mud, as my nails scraped against the stall.

I pressed my snout against the wood, hiding my face away as I bent over, no different than a whore as I felt that enormous shaft push in and out. I felt it hitting some spot or presence deep within me that ought not to be touched.

Yet, as it rubbed against it, it made me feel… Good. Strangely better than all my years with the Inquisition, all those years of illumination and self-fulfillment.

Was I failing my elders and friends? I couldn’t tell, as my face was buried against the wood, barely heeding the voices behind and around me. My tail wagged by itself while the pushing and pulling was stronger, like a ceaseless advance.

I know now what they were doing. But at that moment, I was basking in the shame, the horror, and the deviancy of the instant. All that time, the hands were still pinching my chest, pulling on it. They were on my shaft, pumping it and pulling on it. I was their toys, their playthings, their… New obsession.

And I couldn’t resist as my breathing grew heavier, as my thoughts drifted apart from the told mantras to the sensations that had encompassed my lower reaches. Even further as I felt a tongue and a breath just a whisper away from my penis. It… Couldn’t. But here was a tongue, or so I assumed, playing and teasing with my urethra.

I cleaned everything every day. I was proud to keep myself proper for inspection… But here, it meant for that tongue to brush the tip, the entrance, the urethra. The hole from which I shouldn’t spill.

But I did.

Not directly.

But as the pumping inside my backside hastened, almost making me rock against the stall, I felt a pressure inside my groin. I resisted it, tried not to let it slip past me. But once that tongue slipped inside, merely teased my peehole… I yelped again and… Felt the pleasure wash over me.

It wasn’t like a mind-numbing orgasm like I was told. Or one perverse act of pure abandon where I would sell my soul to whatever creature from the Hells.

It was pleasure, shameful, intense, warm… Burning. Searing into my belly and lower belly as I clenched my eyelids shut, my teeth gritting.

“Oups. You lost. Better next time.”

The voice uttered this. But I didn’t know if they were still watching me. The fingers went away, same as the enormous penis. Instead, I only felt the hollowness of my orifice and the wet presence in my pants while I heaved against the stall, immobile. Stunned. Struck.

“Are… You buying something?”

My ears twitched, and I looked up. My cowl had slipped, and I faced a half-orc, disheveled but young. His tusky mouth was contorted in disgust as I had my hands on the stall, watching the sausages displayed there. I glanced around, finding that eyes were still focused on me, mainly from the nearest buyers and merchants.

“Wh… N-No. I’m sorry,” I managed to mumble as I stood on my feet, almost springy.

For a moment of grace, I was able to run away. Where? I wasn’t sure, but I ended up at a dead end, near a greasy spoon. The air was musty and dirty, with no traces of sulfur as I stopped and ended leaning against a wall, my hand pressed against the bricks while I had my eyes down… Down to my pants. To my body.

I felt my belly burn. On the other hand, my groin and nethers were entirely damp. The former was abnormal, the second was shameful.

It was the latter I checked first as I glanced, ensuring nobody was watching me when I opened the belt and… Pulled on the fabric. Not down, but away, so I could see my genitals uncovered by briefs or any underwear, I could see the fuzzy gray testicles, the fur sticking to the scrotum. The soft skin below was almost revealed, though my eyes were on the golden cage I had to wear.

My vow. My chastity. One day, long ago, I narrowly broke it when I allowed an incubi into my bed. Ever since, I wore what was a chastity cage of pure gold, enchanted so I shouldn’t be able to feel anything. More so, the cage would remain unlocked unless I willed it so.

It was still locked, my penis squeezed by the tight metal. However, from the hole dug inside the cage to expose my peehole, cum dripped. It was everything, everywhere on the cage. My vow… My chastity. I broke it without even touching myself.

My face burned as it had been… Pleasant. So pleasant, in fact, I was starting to doubt the virtue of the cage. If all those years, I had spent it restraining myself, maybe I could have experienced true pleasure and love? Maybe start a family, even?

Those were some of the thoughts that wandered as I brushed the cum-covered gold, feeling it sting as it always dug inside my nethers and my scrotum.

Then, with a tentative finger, I lifted my shirt. My belly still burned. And as I released the pants, I exposed my furry belly… And the eerie purple symbol etched onto it, glimmering from under the strands of white and gray.

I did not need my books or a scholarly reflection to know it was a curse, a primitive, and perverse curse. A womb tattoo, as they were called. Crude, but efficient.

“Come to us in your robes. It has been years since we had our fun with a priest.”

It might have been the cue for me to run and flee. To leave as I was clearly outstripped by whoever had cursed me so easily, in public, and without doing much more commotion. But I was far too deep, too shocked, and too… Enthralled by the sensation.

The guards were looking for me when I returned to the Inn and hid myself, still feeling the tug from the Womb Tattoo drawing me closer to my “master”.

And as the night dropped and the tattoo’s burning presence remained, I… Knew what I had to do. I stripped of the peasants clothes to clean myself, remove the traces of cum sticking to my groin and to my chastity cage. Then, I donned the robes I was given to prove myself as a member of Torm’s Inquisition. From the chasuble to the alb, such garments were rich and pompous. And somehow, it felt right to wear nothing underneath them as I slipped outside, feeling like I was leaving everything I owned behind.

The bystanders locked their eyes on me, following my steps in a mix of surprise and fear as I left the abounding inn and strolled through the streets in the dead of the night, called by the Womb Tattoo driving me… To the nearest target. However, it was not through the basement window.

I knocked at the front door and was instantly ushered in by a naked dwarf, the scent of sex sticking to his beard as I was led upward… Further… And further.

One story. Two. And on the last landing, sitting on refined couches striking against the otherwise messy, unordained, and reeking attic, there were… Them.

Not one Devil. But two. Two imps whose skins were as black as coal, reflecting the distant moonlight like scales, yet with an oily touch in how the colors seemed to smear. Their eyes, red like fire, looked at me without any irises or pupils. And their smiles were as devious as their chuckles as they stroked themselves amidst the quasi-empty room, except for a bed further ahead.

“I told you he’d come here. Once they taste it, they can’t go back.”

“Fine. You win.”

With an almost interchangeable voice, the two Imps were happily chatting while I watched and observed them. I watched how they pumped their shafts, their tiny hands going over the humongous organs, contrasting with their petite nature.

The tips were bulbous and swollen, with a corona so wide it would naturally hold onto the foreskin when it was brought up. Underneath, the flesh itself was covered with tiny spines that seemed to be soft but hard enough to be felt when the Imps tugged on them, rubbing the spines and smearing that musky and pungent precum all over them. A precum they provided in ample amount as it jutted from their tips right onto their length, onto the veiny skin, and down to their testicles that would make it impossible for them to walk on their tiny legs.

“You are… Imps,” I said, unable to contain my tremor and… Fear? My body was shaking as I looked at them. They had that egregious grin while chuckling and massaging themselves, uncaring of my attitude as I frowned.

“Yes, we are. What? You expected more? A big, bad guy sitting on a throne? A Lord, taller than that house?” asked the one on the left, laughing.

“No! He thought he was a big shot! Look at him, barely banishing a rug, and he’s the top-dog!”

Both laughed at me while I tried to contain my frustration. As well as the saliva that was backing up in my mouth as I watched their genitals, feasted on the sight, felt my cage be a tense presence against my needy penis.

“I- I did more than that, I am an Inqui-”

“Inquisitor, yes yes. Father told us we had to play nice with you. All innocent, pure, stupid,” the Imp on the left continued. “Yapping about faith and chastity. Do you know how much it takes to protect your stupid ass?”

“Protect us?” I scoffed, as they were still at it.

“Yes. Your flocks! I mean, you cannot even protect yourself from us. What do you think about our father? Or the big shots? Now, come. Give us a suck. Chop chop!”

As the Imp said that, he released his penis for a second to clap his hands. I felt the burn in my belly grow bigger as I experienced… The need to approach. The thirst to taste that shaft. The yearning to smell it. And as I advanced, I dropped to my knees on the Sofa, my muzzle and nose pressed against the frenum and tip. I took a whiff, a deep breath, and my ears dropped. However, the Imp was quick to tousle my fur between them, laughing while I was giving in.

Instead of fighting the corruption like I was taught, I opened my mouth and began to lap the precum from the skin, uncaring whether or not someone noticed me.

Uncaring as the Imps were still talking, poking fun at me.

“See? So weak. If you were against a Lord? You’d be toast.”

“No, he’d be skewered on his dick before he says “Woah”. But it’s fine, we’re doing it all for you. We don’t want to lose our cattle.”

“Wh-What do you… Why mock me?” I asked in a moment of lucidity, peeling my mouth off but not without having strands of precum sticking to my muzzle and fur, even the inside of my mouth. I swallowed my saliva as the two erupted into laughter, smacking their tiny hips before the second Imp joined in, levitating to have his penis smacked against my face.

“No, no. We’re not mocking you. We’re telling you the truth. So you don’t freak out when we present our new wife to the family.”

Wife? “Wife?”

The Imps looked at themselves, and as the glans was rubbed against my mouth, forcing me to open my lips and usher the enormous tip within. I suckled on it… And in return, I was fed their sticky, salty, and flavorful precum.

“Yes. No mortal can endure us… I mean. Look at our cocks? When we take one, we break them like a doll.”

“But an Inquisitor? I’m sure you have more meat. You can endure what two little Imps like us can dish out? Riiiight?”

Their tones made it clear they barely believed their words, but would still have fun with me, one way or another.

Such as when they snapped, and my belly thrummed with the need to stand up. I stood up, my arms outstretched. And in a hilarious fit, the two began to rip my robes with claws. The pricey fabric, the inlaid gold, the carefully sewn depictions of Torm. They pulled them apart while laughing until only a small portion of the alb was attached to my arms and shoulders. Below my collarbone, I had been stripped bare and my caged penis dripped as much as the precum sticking to my lips.

“Way better! Let’s see if you’re trained well.”

The Imps snapped again, and I was on all fours.

“Bark! Bark! Bark!” I could only say, acting like a dog and wagging my tail while the two Imps floated around, passing a hand over my posterior, my back, my tail. They yanked the latter, while playing with my asshole that was still slightly agape and burning from their previous experience.

This time, it was the real deal. It was not a phantasmal penis that was pressed against my back entrance. But a true, unfettered, throbbing, and dripping shaft that was pushing against my asshole.

Maybe it was from the curse, compulsion, or my constitution, but I was not afraid. I was not afraid. I gulped, barked more, but my ears remained upright as the Imp tousled my fur. The touch was almost soft and needy, but so was the penis was it was placed at my mouth… At my lips that were forced to slip to the utmost, to the point of hurting, so the glans could slip herein.

I quivered, I trembled, I felt my gaze veil while the two Demons were laughing and chuckling, their spires steadily penetrating and abusing my holes.

But no fear.

Somehow, I was not afraid of their penis or what they could do to me. I mean, they were big, bigger than my arm, it was almost impossible they could fit within me? Yet, I was certain they could do it.

And as the tip pressed against my back entrance… I was… Sure, it would fit.

With many shots of precum inside my entrance, I was… Warm, bothered. Prepared even. My hole relaxed, my body eased. Even my arms and legs were without tension as I let go and allowed less than an inch inside, almost a barleycorn. Still, my hole was stretched so wide, its entrance so yawned, I felt the breeze brush against it. I was struck by the burn from my orifice trying to fight back.

My breath was ragged, my tail wagging… And my bark entirely muted due to the shaft whose third of a length was enough to reach the back of my mouth.

It tingled my throat, it spewed more of that flavorful precum directly to my guts while the droplets still sticking to the length were rubbing against my tongue. They coated the tongue while I felt the spines were softer than imagined and merely prodding without occurring any pain or discomfort.

Rather, it explained the sheer sensation I felt when I was first “taken” by them.

However, at that moment, I experienced the real deal. I felt the spire delving deeper and deeper within me, forcing my guts to rearrange and my skin to distend. I sensed the spire delving down my throat until my voice box ought to be crushed. With the little freedom I had, I could rub and feel the throbbing organ through my bulging throat and bulging belly, both forming a distinct and impressive presence I couldn’t deny as I looked up, then down, while they chuckled.

“Good boy. Such a good boy!” praised the one at the front, his hips pushing forward as another third was inside, making me fight for each breath.

“He can take us! Maybe he can take our spawn, too!” added the one in the back, yanking on my tail while his shaft was pressing the same spot as before but without any focus, merely by passing by.

My penis, my caged penis, in comparison was a ball of fire and burning needs that rubbed against the gilded gold. It burned, it pressed, it crushed itself against the unyielding metal. It hurt, it was painful. But likewise, it was that hint of pain that brought me enough clarity so I wouldn’t be drifting from the hits shaking me… But followed along a pleasure, a striking satisfaction that complemented what the two Imps were doing.

I couldn’t bark or say a thing anymore, nor refute their words. So instead, impaled on both ends, my genitalia spoke for myself with many drips and drops.

The pitter-patter of fluids on the floor was deafening to me… Although I was certain the Imps were paying no heed as they delved further and further, aligning and reorganizing my body until my entire self was perfectly fit to take their organs.

And they laughed, they laughed as they began to fuck their newly owned toy, their slutty inquisitor, me.

They were not gentle.

They did not warn. They did not say anything.

Instead, from a common accord, with their shafts almost hilted within me, they thrust. They almost lifted me from the hits before they went at their own pace inside my holes. At the back, the movements were fast and egregious, constantly rubbing against that spot that made my penis spew like a faucet.

At the front, they were slower, but the amount of strength was enough to rock my body and stomach, to have my snout almost crushed against those thighs while I was forced to take in. Both the hits and the smell permeating the place.

“Oh. He is resilient. We will keep him. Agreed?”

“Agreed!” They spoke above me with their high-pitched voice, nosy, and oh-so-mocking.

Yet, I had nothing to say as I felt my consciousness slipping under the constant plapping of their hips hitting my body, of the constant rush of adrenaline when their organs delved within depths that ought not to be reached.

I even felt the burn of their enormous testicles, as big as melons, smacking against mine. The constant sound became like music, a thrumming inside my head and belly as I felt the curse grow and etch itself deeper within me.

The pain? The difficulty in taking each breath? All was gone as I was reshaped, remade, sublimated into their perfect sleeve. My asshole no longer burned but instead gripped the penis, my inner walls massaging it from the base to the utmost tip.

My mouth began as sensitive as the spot that was rubbed by the demon, just like my throat.

And as they continued, so continued my dripping penis as I felt my orgasm coming to a close. Like creeping vines, a creeping desire in the back of my mind.

It came not from the ejaculation, since my shot had gone white already and was few and far between.

But that orgasm, I knew it, was different. So much different as it was linked to theirs. As their breathing became ragged, as their laughter turned into huffs and puffs, as their movements grew sluggish, so was I taken by that tension.

Their heartbeat were fast, their hands gripping and digging into the soft flesh under my fur. Their rictuses were outstretched to expose their glimmering teeth despite the grimaces they showed.

Their little tails swayed and swept, flaying the air like they ought to be. And even their legs twitched against mine or my face when that orgasm was coming to a close.

One’s hand was clasped on my head, holding on dearly like a raft. The other clawed my muscular buttcheeks, leaving them sore. And our bodies, though different, were almost… As one. As one, I felt their orgasms and I felt theirs.

As, even after ejaculating without counting, I felt another shot sweep through my caged penis and land in the whiteish puddle under me.

And… I felt their hot semen, burning, scalding, powerful, wash inside me. Two waves, two constant shots that were hitting me so hard my belly started to go round. It did not ache, but I sensed the pressure building up within me as the two Imps were sighing and growling in delights, dropping on my back and head as they were weakly humping… Pushing more and more inside me until my belly touched the floor, even though I was on all fours.

It happened. For minutes, my insides were so flushed with demonic cum, it was impossible I was not impregnated.

Even then, they could have pulled out and let it flow out, hoping their seed wouldn’t have taken root inside. But when they pulled, after minutes of blissful afterglow, they did not… Release me yet. No. From nowhere, they summoned a plug they forced into my asshole until it ached again.

All that semen remained inside. My belly bulged obscenely, making moving almost impossible as the pink mark seemed to stretch over my gray fur like stretch marks.

And yet… As I was forced to sit on my backside despite the semen inside me and the plug firmly lodged within… They did not stop.

They rubbed their genitals against my face, smeared their fluids all over me until I was marked as theirs.

Until I was theirs, the moment I opened my face willingly and started to suck my new Husbands.