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All those excited, intoxicated, and lustful faces. They had no idea what they were in for. Few who attended that depraved night truly did. Omen was one step ahead of the oblivious attendees, taking refuge from the rising chaos by having a seat at the bar. The music was still picking up. The madness was not yet fully unleashed. The boar's inner magic, their sorcerous power was going to serve well to keep them safe from everything that was set to breach the mortal realm that fateful night.

Though no demon themself, Omen knew such a catastrophic event was to their benefit. All they had to do was keep their head down and avoid the attention of demonic entities. Those were sure to be easily spotted. They walked among the crowds that very moment in disguises of various effectiveness, but soon all would be revealed. Omen meanwhile scanned through the throng of guests in search of the perfect victim - one to corrupt, to drain, and to otherwise exploit in the ever-ambitious pursuit of power.

Such activities were not without their consequences. The more Omen grew in power, the more victims they piled up, the more they attracted the attention of a dark shadow. It was one on the very edge of their perception, never fully revealed in anything more than glowering glimpses, but the aura of threat followed them even in dreams. If Omen was correct, and the origin of their disapproving stalker was what they thought it was, then hiding among demons was the safest place to be. There was little chance even the most vengeful angel would dare show her face in a place like that.

Typically, Omen sought the young and foolish, those easily guided off by the promise of sex, but someone else caught their eye. A owless leaned luxuriantly against the bar, a few seats down. A tall, elegant woman in a long dress that wrapped so perfectly around her soft, yet visibly athletic figure - she was a prize, one who warranted a thorough examination from a distance, top to bottom. She wasn't looking their way, but Omen must have been staring. She eventually noticed and returned that gaze, slightly off balance but nonetheless able to offer what was nonetheless a strikingly seductive stare right back, in that way owls did so well.

The intensity of those bright orange eyes spoke of the owl's prowess. Omen liked the idea of a challenge. Even meeting that gaze was difficult enough. The owl arched her beak into a subtle, sly smile, using a nearby stool to keep herself steady. Her exact age was difficult to tell, but she had the look of an older, experienced woman. Such a foolish mistake it was then, to overestimate her tolerances and get so intoxicated before the fun had even started. Perhaps she wouldn't prove as much of a challenge as Omen thought.

There was no need to flirt from afar. The mutual looks were enough to confirm what they both wanted. Omen remained where they were, waiting for the owl to come to them. A shake of her head, and the owl seemed to forget all about her drunken display in favour of pure seduction. Omen had to admit it had an effect on them. They were already feeling the first tinges of arousal - something they usually saved for when their prey was secure and ready to be sacrificed, or whatever else they were planning to do. Listening to the [i]clickclack[/i] of talons on the floor almost made them shiver, and the audible ruffle of feathers when the owl descended upon the stool next to them as if swooping down had the boar pursing their lips. Leaning on the bar, putting herself on display as if posing for a painting, the owl spoke.

“You seem more interesting than the common rabble around here," the owl began, giving a soft laugh. “You may call me Helena, if you like."

Omen wasn't used to their prospective victims being the one to seduce them. They didn't even have to get up. It was going to be easier than they first thought. Perhaps the owl even saw them as prey. It was easy to play into that.

“Oh - oh! Well. Good to meet you, miss Helena. You can call me - “ Omen paused, acting like they were just bashful to think of something fake. “Ommi."

“Ommi, is it?" The owl gave a pleasant chuckle. “Very well. I shall accept that."

Something in her tone meant Omen didn't have to fake their blush. They did their best to merely appear flustered.

“Getting started early tonight, hm? Looks like you've been having a good time by yourself."

The owl waved it off with the utmost of confidence. “Believe me when I say I can handle it. And you may be right, though I would be having much more fun if I had someone like you by my side."

“Mmm. That can be arranged, I think." Omen faux-timidly avoided meeting the owl's gaze, nibbling on their fingertip.

“Besides," Helena said. “I am told there is something special happening tonight. I hope to be ready for it. I don't suppose you might know more?"

She gave a narrow-eyed look that hinted there might be rewards for any sort of information. Leaning in closer, she lowered her voice until it was just barely visible above the club's noise. Omen found themself leaning in to make sure they didn't miss a word, even if it meant nearly kissing the bird.

“I would be very grateful for anything you could tell me. Your secrets are safe with me, of course. I pride myself on discretion."

“Ohhh, well. " Omen looked around as if to make certain nobody would overhear. “I'm not sure about that. Maybe I could tell you a little bit of what I've heard. I'm not sure how reliable it is."

The owl nodded. “Good. I suspected as much. But don't speak a word of it here. If it truly is as secret as it seems, then there will be eyes and ears everywhere. The noise won't distract them."

“Oh. When you put it that way, I'm not so sure ... “ Omen scanned around, trying to look nervous. They grew tired of the game though, and acted as if they had just been struck by a jolt of courage. “I [i]might[/i] know a place, though. Somewhere a little quieter."

Omen began to rise, watching the owl closely. For as easy as she'd been to hook with the innocent victim act, that was the first time Helena hesitated. Maybe the lustful, power-hungry look in Omen's eyes was bleeding through. The boar waited, patiently. There was no need to rush their future victim. What they didn't expect was for the owl to shake her head.

“No. I know a [i]better[/i] place. Somewhere we may most definitely be alone." Then that sly smile returned. “Assuming of course, alone with me is something you wish to be."

It sounded as flirtatious as it was demanding. She could deny Omen the chance to get what they wanted on a whim. Such power she wielded with a mere few words and glances.Omen felt a slight flush in their cheeks and a little twitch under their dress, basking in the owl's aura. Watching the lovely owl's antics, Omen felt a short, curious spark of something. Guilt, perhaps? Probably not. They had done worse things to far more innocent and endearing victims. Whatever it was, whichever instinct they'd buried long ago that had flashed for just a moment, it was gone.

“Mmm. Wow, I have to admit - I really like the sound of that. If you're getting at what I think you're getting at, anyway. Why don't you show me, Helena?"

“I shall." The owl closed her eyes for a few moments, seemingly concentrating, or perhaps just getting her head back on straight. When she was done, she stood and steadied herself on the bar, finding her coordination once more. She extended a curled arm. “There. Now I am ready. Are you?"

Omen politely looped their arm with Helena's, and let the owl lead the way, at least somewhat. Their journey was a steady one, a determined one. The owl seemed to hone in on her destination more and more with each step. Maybe she was sobering up. Omen had never actually seen her take a drink. They were content to walk with the owl to a quieter spot, especially once the music started kicking up. Even if Helena seemed tall and strong, she was sure to get spooked when all hell quite literally broke loose. Eyes were already starting to shine a little brighter, and fangs were gleaming all the more as they pushed past the crowds and into one of the more isolated back hallways.

Given the industrial setting, it was no surprise to see a particularly well-secured door in what had become a club. Though Omen didn't have the architectural knowledge to guess what it might have led to. It looked a little like the entrance to a large industrial freezer. Helena withdrew from her role as guide to fiddle with several large, clicky locks. They made some strangely satisfying [i]kaCHUNKS[/i] as they slid out of position, heavily. Once Helena removed all three, the whole creaked open with a strangely animated groan. Omen was left peering into a room almost completely enshrouded in darkness, giving little hint to its purpose. For all the suspicious situations the boar had led others into, they couldn't help but voice their thoughts.

“Is that a - ?"

“Mmhmm, rather as it seems, I think." The owl didn't seem to think it was unusual. “Similar to an archaic padded cell. Perhaps a kinky plan, left abandoned by those who converted this place."

Omen observed the shadows there, oddly unsettled by the way they seemed to move. “And that's where you want us to go? Are you sure? What happens if someone comes along and locks us in there?"

“Do you not trust me?" Helena tilted her head, adding a curious lilt to that question. “We have only just met, perhaps. But what is the fun in life without taking a few risks? Besides, it is easy to unlock from the other side if you know what you are doing. I will show you, if you earn it."

Breaking from her dignified stature to give a wink was truly irresistible. Omen might have suspected the owl was a sorceress herself for how compelled they felt by her, but the boar would have easily detected such a magical aura. It was enough to make them want to make a little mistake. Omen even allowed the owl to usher them in first, half-expecting Helena to just slam the door shut as soon as they crossed that threshold. It didn't happen, leaving them to consider the plus floor beneath them, and adjust to its touch.

For a moment, Omen thought they were simply plummeting, for just how far they sank into it. They didn't detect a solid bottom - it was plush and soft all the way down, and unstable at that. They might have fallen on their face if not for the owl's touch on their shoulder, and even then, Omen found themself staring at the surface below them. The thought that it might go on forever, that there might be nothing but an infinite pit beneath them occurred to Omen for some reason. They discarded it as quickly as it arrived.

In came the owl, talons squishing down on a surprisingly soft floor. She walked more lightly on it than Omen did, seeming almost to float atop the cushion where the boar had sunk down deeply. There were no windows or apparent exits in that place. It was a one-way thing, and there they stood, alone in the dark, watching the owl's eyes glint. They weren't as gifted at seeing in the dark as the bird was, left lost until they felt her touch. It was a surprisingly welcome one.

Normally Omen was the one to be stripping someone down. Yet they were strangely warmed by the mere stroking of those talons, or those smoothly scaled fingers. Letting Helena guide the way a little felt better than they thought it would. For a moment, Omen allowed themself to just close their eyes and be touched, then examined, up and down. Their bare form offered few hints to their secrets. Helena was never going to know. Unless she had been told.

“Ah. A soft piglet like you ought to be right at home in this place," Helena gently teased. Her tone was just right to keep Omen blushing, forgetting much of their uncertainty on the spot. In its place was anticipation.

When their dress and everything beneath it was sitting in a little pile around their hooves, Omen opened their eyes again and looked up at the owl. Except she wasn't there. Helena had vanished into the darkness, when she'd been touching the boar mere moments ago. The air felt different. It was colder. The dark felt deeper, as if the soft walls went on much farther than Omen had initially thought. Something was wrong - and it all made much more sense when they heard that heavy door slam shut.

Helena revealed herself once more as the lights rose in that place. Glaring from above, the sudden illumination left Omen shielding their eyes, their naked body fully exposed and glistening where they stood. They managed to peer at the approaching owless. There was something entirely different about her. All her looseness, all her sloppy drunkenness was gone. She was coordinated, with her back straight, her expression stern, and all that naive warmth gone in favour of a cold, hard stare.

“Now. No one undesirable will disturb us in here. It's time for us to have a more intimate talk, I think."

Of course, knowing wasn't enough to stop them. Omen raised their hands. Even naked, they were brimming with magic. There was no need for any sort of focus or component to summon up enough power to blast themself right out of the room. That might have worked, if they could access the energies within them. All went dormant, buried deep inside, far out of reach. Not a single spark sprang from their fingers before the owl made her attack.

In a physical fight, the boar was like any other mortal. They didn't have the training nor the strength to overcome such a talented opponent. Helena got them by the wrist, and easily flipped the boar right over her shoulder with that grip. Downed, but refusing to give up, Omen tried to kick while they shoved at their aggressor, The owl was swift to get on top of them, pulling the boar's arms back, wrapping one of her own around her captive's throat. She had enough control over her stretch to wrench back just hard enough to hurt without doing too much damage, and to choke Omen out without rendering them unconscious.

“Please. That won't work here. I am not about to be caught unprepared. I ask you to stop embarrassing yourself."

Caught there, wondering when the finishing blow was coming, Omen continued struggling to no avail. Helena knew all the places to touch, exactly how much pressure to apply to render almost all of the boar's body useless. They could only state their objections.

“Surely there's been some sort of mistake here," they said, between gasps of strain. “I don't know who you think I am ..."

“Is that your strategy, Omen?" Helena clicked her beak with disappointment. “I expected more than playing innocent, in truth. There is no use negotiating either way. I am a professional, and always deliver for my clients."

Omen grunted. They never did say their name yet. Helena already knew. Everything, presumably. They refused to hold still despite what seemed inevitable, anticipating the arrival of the bounty hunter's client. It wasn't that they were [i]surprised[/i] when they felt the slow, steady boom of those massive hooves on the approach, carrying the great weight of the one they bore, somehow without sinking deeply into the floor, as if it obeyed her command. They were simply holding out hope that it might have been someone else. For the most fleeting moment, the fallen one still seemed to give off an angelic glow before her scowling countenance was mostly concealed by the darkness again.

“Inky. Pleasure to meet you in the flesh. If that is truly how you work, at least. I assume we have arrived at [i]your[/i] place now?"

Helena's emphasis left Omen was a mix of curiosity and dread. They glanced away from the enormous sheep silently glowering down at them to see what had become of that door. It didn't startle them that much to see it was gone. That made sense, in its way. Ever since stepping over the threshold and into the room, they had felt a whole [i]new[/i] kind of power around them. It wasn't the sort they could harness. Whether it was still divine, they couldn't say.

All attention was on the sheep as she crouched down low in front of the captive, drew a breath, and spoke just one word after a long, icy glare.

“Heretic."

It was less an accusation as it was an acknowledgement. That was simply a fact. For all the danger they felt in the presence of the angel - fallen or not - Omen didn't reveal their fears. They remained standoffish.

“Omen, actually. And you are?"

“You know me as Iniko, though you have denied it. That will be all the explanation you get from me. It is more than you deserve."

Her tone rumbled with boiling but contained rage and contempt. Omen could feel it radiating from her.

“And what is it I deserve, angel?"

Iniko clicked her tongue with distaste that the boar would even ask. The sound alone was enough to make Omen reflect on the reasons they might earn an angel's wrath - mentally indexing their sins, and the souls locked away in dark places for their amusement and gain. Their sorcery came with a cost, one they had been outright gleeful about paying.

“You know the answer to that. I am not here to read your sentence. I am here to enforce it. This place will be your prison, or your doom. It remains to be seen what I decide."

Omen took her time to think on that. The conviction in the sheep's words was palpable. As was her anger. Her presence was a dark one, but her virtues seemed stronger than ever with her fall. The boar found themself sputtering in disbelief that such a thing could even happen to them.

“That's all? No trial? No chance at redemption? Aren't you types supposed to grant me that, at least?"

“You have [i]one[/i]," Iniko said, snarling the word as if it disgusted her she even had to offer such. “With your unnatural power relinquished, you may earn your freedom if you best us with your body alone. Pin one of us even once, before we claim victory thrice, and my wrath will be denied."

“Now that hardly - “ Omen began, but they didn't finish. Helena let them loose, leaving them to fend for themself on flooring that felt like trying to walk in quicksand.

They weren't about to get a rundown on the rules. There were no holds barred. They hadn't even realized how naked the sheep was until they were pressed close to her body. Beneath the bulk, under what might have looked just like fat at first glance, they could feel that strength. Iniko's muscles bulged with effort to clasp and nearly crush Omen on the spot with two arms wrapped taut around the boar's waist. The dark sorceress could shove and they could kick, but they could already feel their spine getting rearranged by the sheer power of the avenging angel. The match was as good as over.

Rather than forcing Omen to tap out already, Iniko let them go, leaving the boar to fall to the floor. The soft surface might have cushioned the landing, but they were still left breathless and sore, too disoriented to mount a counterattack before they felt those big, strong hands on them once more. Taking them by the arm and hip, Iniko snatched the boar into the air without much apparent effort, swinging her victim like a battering ram into the nearest wall. The padding kept that from being a knockout blow, giving under the pressure to partly envelop the stunned boar. Omen grunted anyway, stunned by the force being applied to their body. A deep [i]WOMF[/i] sounded as they slammed against it, sinking in just as much as the floor had tried to claim them.

There were no breathers to be had. Omen struggled just to right their sense of what was up before Iniko had them up over her head, squished against the ceiling. All the movement was stirring up plenty of body heat. The boar started to sweat while they were manhandled, and so did the sheep. Breathing in that slowly rising musk had Omen's head spinning. They weren't even getting a chance to fight back. Up they went, and then down again, plunging the whole ten feet from the above the sheep's head to the floor again, cushioned but nonetheless stunned. That time, they found the energy to scramble away from one of those massive hooves before the angel could crush them.

The floor itself rippled with the impact of that missed attack, as did the walls. Omen still couldn't see the ceiling. The stomp didn't find its mark, but they hardly had the advantage. They grasped at one of Iniko's meaty legs, just above the hoof, and tried to help themself back up. Their whole body was shaky. When they looked up at their opponent, they saw double. The entirety of Omen's vision was overwhelmed by the vastness of the fallen angel. They didn't even bother to glance back at the owl. Helena hadn't taken her opportunity yet. Perhaps she was simply standing by to see if her client needed assistance, which Iniko certainly did not.

The sheep got a hand around the boar's throat, plucking them up from where they knelt, letting them dangle, unable to get a single gasp of air. She kept them there, struggling, clawing uselessly at those thick digits. Omen had nothing to do but absorb the full strength of that hateful blue stare. It was pure ice in their veins. For a moment, perhaps, they might have felt something, might have [i]understood[/i] something about all they had done to earn them such wrath. The feeling faded as quickly as it came, aided by the sudden rush of gravity and impact as they got chokeslammed down to the floor once more.

Panting and perspiring, they looked up to watch the sweat slowly dripping from Iniko's tits. The sheep panted pure steam, almost like smoke, lowering herself down closer and closer to bathe her captive in that once-angelic musk. It was dark, rich, dense. Every shaky huff left Omen's senses all the more overpowered. They found their mouth watering enough they had to lick their lips, which Iniko seemingly took as an invitation to completely smother their face with her bust. Laying herself out like a particularly angry blanket, or perhaps more a stormcloud, she used her weight and incredible size advantage to put Omen exactly where she wanted them. For all the initial softness and warmth of that smother, the boar had to consider if it really was where they belonged.

The reality set in soon enough. That wasn't a gentle, pillowy cuddle. It was a crushing smother, drawing even more breath from the boar's body, leaving Omen struggling as they were immersed in the grip of Iniko's cleavage. Every struggle made more of a sweat towel out of their face, streaking their features with rivers of perspiration. Each gasp filled their lungs all the more with the rising musk that had nowhere to go. There were no windows, and there wasn't even a door anymore. The music was growing more and more distant, filtered through the wall, as if the room itself was drifting off into the void, away from everything and everyone, never to be seen again.

“Eins, zwei, drei ... the first of three won with ease!" Helena merrily said, though Omen barely heard her. “Perhaps you might consider tagging me in for the second round. I am curious to test this one's mettle. If my seductive skills were so effective, how shall they fare against my physical prowess?"

For several seconds, it seemed as if Iniko was going to completely ignore the owl, and the terms of the engagement in favour of simply smothering Omen to death in that same position. The sheep snorted to herself as she allowed the boar to struggle more and more desperately beneath those great, heavy breasts. Her belly pressed down on Omen's hips and legs, pinning those as well. A little more weight, and she could have crushed that captive without so much as a second chance, but she relented in time with an indifferent grunt.

Helena was kind enough to help her opponent up, and even to give them a chance to recover from that thrashing, slipping and struggling to find purchase on that squishy floor. It seemed to trip them up at every opportunity, while their aggressors walked just fine on it, springing up and down on the cushion where the boar simply sank and sank, feeling as if they were perpetually plummeting. Flailing and kicking enough eventually allowed them to rise, but that alone was exerting. Omen wiped at their face and shook their head while the owl so casually stripped in front of them.

There were no surprises. That dress had already hugged her figure in such ways as to give Omen a good idea of all her curves. Though that cock was even thicker than they first thought. It remained soft, but on full display, draped over a pair of smooth balls that matched its sleek black hue. The limited light glinted on the veins and barbs of its hybrid nature. A sorcerous side of Omen wanted to know what manner of blood ran in the owl's veins to give her something like that, but it was far too late.

Tucking one hand behind her back and turning to the side, Helena presented herself like a duellist, seemingly awaiting the boar's approach. Omen glanced down carefully at Iniko. The sheep was glowering as ever, but she didn't move. At least defeating the owl didn't seem impossible, even if it was unlikely. Trapped, bathed in sweat, and shaky on their hooves, the boar made her approach, ready to dance with the nimble huntress, ready for anything. When Helena went for the leg, they even managed to dodge with a staggered but nonetheless swift hop. The owl chuckled and waved a finger, bouncing up and down on the floor as if simply to demonstrate how easy it was for her to balance on it.

“Ah. Still have some fight in you, good! Such a youthful spark, even still. Though you shall soon find that experience wins out in this face." She gave a haughty chuckle. “Don't disappoint me. Hold nothing back. There are no rules but her own in this place."

Omen snorted. It wasn't really amusement. They kept their eyes on the devious owl. Only then did Helena truly show her age and experience, facing down an opponent, ready to fight. She never seemed to blink, so Omen wouldn't either. They stared back, with an intensity of their own, and made no sign of readying a lunge until they sprang forth in an attempt to tackle the bird. Helena dodged it and gave them a brief swat on the ass for their trouble, which only empowered Omen's second attempt. Their face was blazing by then.

“Did that hurt?" Helena's tone remained playful, though Omen couldn't mistake the coldness to it. “Savour it while you can. You will miss this touch before long."

A [i]pomf[/i] sounded with every step of Omen's shaky charge. This time, they made contact, and went down to the floor with the owl, though they weren't sure they were actually in control for long. They hit the ground first, sinking deep into the padding, hitting their face down flat. For a few brief moments, it felt like they were simply going to keep going, to plummet all the way to the bottom, wrapped in softness. If there was even a bottom to find. Helena took their wrists and pulled their arms behind them, leaving them with just their knees to press down and get some leverage, slipping under the pliable surface, perpetually off balance in that padded chamber. They were left kicking in the air when Helena wrenched them back up, flipped them over her shoulder, and slammed them down on their head in a perfectly executed suplex. The floor absorbed the impact so deeply it felt like it was going to swallow Omen whole, to leave them nothing but a pair of hooves for the briefest moment.

“I have always wanted to do that to a target. Feeling well, Omen? I didn't go too hard on you now did I?" Helena asked, hands on her hips. “You're trying so very hard, and it is very cute, I must say."

“Don't compliment the swine," Iniko scolded from the corner.

A short laugh of satisfaction with herself - rather than mockery - and the owl flipped over, going for the downed boar. Omen still had fight in them, and they grappled with Helena on the floor, rolling with her, even getting on top for a moment. With no magic to speak of, they could only use their body weight and desperation, and it even seemed to be working. Helena's expression never changed to indicate struggle, but Omen managed to overpower her, hold her down, for a fraction of a second before they were back to grappling. Maybe they had a chance, even if it was a slim one.

Of course, all the effort had the both of them sweating all the more. The owl was no exception, perhaps further speaking of her hybrid blood. Her feathers grew damp not just with the boar's perspiration, but her own, projecting a humid scent that Omen couldn't have called anything but pleasant. They rubbed off on each other, even briefly finding themselves between each other's legs. Was that a subtle twitch Omen sensed from the owl as their soft shafts made contact with one another? It was enough to distract them for the incredibly brief time it took for Helena to press the advantage once more.

“That is quite enough of that," she said, flipping the boar around and getting them in a headlock between her feathery thighs. A pair of plump, smooth nuts rested snugly atop Omen's head as Helena continued. “Only fair to give you the illusion of chance, don't you think? I am proud of you for taking it, of course."

Then she squeezed. It felt like Omen's entire head was going to cave in. Maybe it would have, if the owless used just a bit more of her deceptive strength. Her figure was lean and athletic, if hardly muscular. There was power in those limbs beyond what felt merely mortal, or so Omen could have sworn. They grappled with the bird's legs but couldn't pry their skull from that vise for anything. At least the ruffle of feathers swiping back and forth over their face was strangely pleasant.

A quick turn of her hips, and Helena wasn't merely squeezing the boar's head. She sat herself firmly upon it, settling a feathery rump down over the entirety of Omen's feathers, burying that face beneath a set of finely groomed tailfeathers. Her plumage as a whole was only slightly disturbed by all the physical activity, and remained that way as she made a throne out of a struggling boar, squishing them down deeper and deeper into the floor once more as if to plant them like a stake. All of a sudden it was as if the owl was heavier than anything in the world, not crushing them, but proving as immovable as a statue where she snugly pressed down until the boar's snout was nestled between her cheeks.

“That's a good boar," Helena cooed, feeling those struggles weakening. “Accept your defeat. I know what's best for you."

Omen heard three damning stomps from Iniko's hoof to indicate they had been pinned once more. Not even rocking back and forth desperately beneath that fluffy butt could get their shoulders off the padded floor. Much like the sheep before her, Helena held that position a little longer than she needed to, testing and taxing the boar's lungs, pressing down deeper and deeper until Omen was intimately familiar with every one of those feathers. They were sweating even more by the time the owl finally let them up, puffing steam, groaning with defeat. Helena offered her hand, and it took some time for the boar to take it.

That tentative trust was not misplaced. Helena helped her opponent up without springing any sort of tricks or traps. She was an honourable duellist. To an extent. Drained, shaken, breathless, and sore, Omen was left to consider their opposition for the third round. For all her honour, Helena didn't demonstrate any objection to standing side by side with the sheep, making the size and numbers advantages abundantly clear. If Omen couldn't handle one of them at once, their chances of release had grown even slimmer. If there had ever been one in the first place.

“Round three," Iniko said, without a shred of joy. Her voice and expression were that of pure, grim determination.

She pounded a fist into an open palm and made her approach. Omen took one step back. Helena was there at their flank in an instant. She tripped the boar up, and the rest was a matter of simply letting come what naturally did. It wasn't that Omen was completely out of the fight. They had all the willpower in the world. If they could just reach deep down within themself and access that magic for a moment, they could make up for the shortcomings of their mortal body, but it was locked away, blocked off from their touch. That sensation was far more infuriating than simply having it drained from them. They knew it was still there, if only -

Hitting the floor hard, they found themself scrambling to get out of the way of advancing hooves and talons alike. Crawling on all fours before their aggressors and captors, they were helpless to keep from being swept up in Iniko's powerful arms. Feeling those hands clutching them and snatching them into the air, pulling them forcefully close, Omen couldn't help but feel the briefest moment of content to be handled by such a powerful, and perhaps ancient being. There was still so much they had yet to understand about the worlds beyond.

Then reality set in, and not gently. Omen got squished up tight against the sheep's chest once more, all but crushed between a pair of breasts bigger than their head. When that wasn't quite overpowering enough, Iniko bent forth to let the boar find their spot between owl and sheep alike. With busts on either side of their face, they were fully immersed, squished and squeezed as they dangled there, soaking up yet more tit sweat. The musk that filled the room seemed to bounce back off the walls, growing thicker, hotter, as if to slowly bake Omen in the scents that drove them to increasingly uncontrollable levels of lust.

Surely such teasing was going somewhere. Their resistance grew even more shaky the more aroused they got, but they refused to simply give up and submit, even at the implied promise of pleasure. There they half-suffocated for some time, their legs kicking a little less the longer they were buried between two sets of fine breasts. Sometimes they reached up to push and shove, though it came off more like groping or stroking the more their strength drained away. If only they could reach just one spell, just one burst of that energy they had been cultivating inside them with all their wicked deeds, but that was as likely as the walls around them coming down.

That time, the lack of air truly pushed them to the edge. They flickered and faded for a time, their sensations diminished but never gone, mostly unconscious but still sporting a firm, urgent hard-on. Stiff and stunned, they weren't ready for the pair to unceremoniously drop them to their knees. At least they managed to keep from totally collapsing just yet. Instead, they remained there as if in prayer to the giant sheep who loomed above them, snorting with rising, decreasingly contained fury. Perhaps it was for the best that Helena interrupted that moment.

The owl gave a soft chuckle when she felt how easily manipulated Omen had become. She picked the boar up, tugging on them to put them where they needed to be. That happened to be facefirst in the sheep's pussy. With those talon-tipped fingers pressing into their scalp and a scaled palm pressing on the back of their head, Omen had no choice but to end up entirely enveloped by the scent, by the heat, and by the noticeable wetness of the folds overtaking their face. While they still had the capacity for thought, they wondered what it was about the process that turned Iniko on. Perhaps punishing the wicked was a kink all its own.

Such analysis was soon to melt away as Omen struggled to breathe anything but Iniko. They pushed against those mighty thighs but could do nothing to budge the great mountain of fury. If anything, their efforts only made them slip deeper between those lips, assisted by the pressure from the owl. Their snout was left squeezed by the faint contractions of that pussy, their mouth and nostrils filled with the juices of the fallen one, and their eyes watered as their face dripped with perspiration and more.

Surely the battle was lost. They had nothing left, and they were fading. Their heart was pounding as their breath faltered. Omen's arms fell limply by their side. For all their power and the hunger for more, even they had to admit defeat seemed inevitable. Their body was giving in, awash in feminine scent, in the soft warmth amid the heavier musk of sweat clinging to them and the room itself. When all seemed ready to go dark between the thighs of the great black sheep, Helena wrenched the boar back on the very precipice of collapse and left them to sputter and struggle all over again.

“You deserve worse than that," Iniko said like a snarl.

The owl forced the boar to stand, which was no small effort for either of them. She ended up having to support most of Omen's weight. Attempting to shrug off that assistance even if it meant collapsing to the ground was one of the last gasps of resistance and defiance they could struggle. They weren't even strong enough to fall anymore. At their standing height, they were almost right on level with the short fluff of Iniko's tail - something that might have been an endearing feature on anyone else. Instead, the boar found themself stumbling as they were shoved deep into the embrace of those huge, sweaty cheeks to further smother most of the life out of them.

Helena joined in the indulgence, this time not by shoving, but by turning back to take the boar's head from the other side. Immersed in stereo, hooves dangling between the crushing curves all around them, squished from ears to face to chest, the boar experienced a feeling of defeat deeper than anything they had ever fathomed. They were blushing and aroused, but no release came. There was no generosity to be found, simply squishing, squeezing, and the slow suffocation between sweaty fluff and feathers alike.

Limp but for their enduring erection, the boar slumped and sighed into something like fainting. The true release of unconsciousness never quite came. Instead, they were left to plummet to the floor when the pair released them from the imprisonment of their rears. The way Omen fell, they just naturally sprawled into a position with all four of their limbs splayed out, as if bound in place for sacrifice. They weren't the one holding the knife this time. Instead, Iniko loomed above, a titan of hate, a tower built to their undoing. One impulse was all it would have taken to crush the boar entirely.

Instead, the sheep brought herself down, and laid that warm pussy over Omen's features, squeezing their head between her thighs. The flexes were only a fraction of what she was capable of, stopping just short of crushing that sinful mortal skull as she pinned her prey in place. Helena gave her a count, slapping the sweat-slathered floor with a great delay between each number, just to prolong that domination. Omen was fighting internally perhaps, but their body was still, almost deathlike as they huffed and groaned beneath that increasingly sopping, pulsing, smotheringly soft sheep sex pressed so powerfully to their every single feature.

“As I suspected. Without your ill-gotten power, you are helpless. You have always been nothing. I will treat you exactly as you deserve. Your sentence shall begin now."

With their heart pounding, their breath all but squeezed fully out of them, and their cock irrepressibly hard for the sheep sitting so snugly on their face, Omen could only await squirm and await their punishment. Surely there had been so many more before them, so many mortals who had committed greater sins and who were more deserving of such personal treatment from the avenging angel herself. Yet Iniko was relentless in her pursuit, and did not allow even an inch of breathing room. A brief look to the owless was all Helena needed to know it was time to truly begin.

---

It was easy to manipulate Omen's body after that kind of treatment. It was their turn to be a helpless puppet. Iniko snatched them up, and let them dangle there, hooves far from the ground. She only needed one hand to keep the boar in place. With the other, she made a gesture, less like casting an arcane spell and more commanding some unseen force. It obeyed, whatever it was. From nothingness there came a garment, floating there by the willpower of the sheep. Omen spotted several secure-looking straps and bindings attached to the jacket before them.

Helena fetched it from the air, and approached. That was when Omen remembered how to thrash. Their mind remained defiant, but their body remained weakened by the complete domination. As much as they snorted and fussed, there was little to be done as the owl began to entomb the mad sorcerer in that confining shirt. The straitjacket was tight around the boar's arms, and that was before any of it was even fastened in place. They felt breathless and panicked as Helena so casually dressed them, pulling and adjusting to make sure everything was where it needed to be, faintly humming to herself.

“Now, don't make such a fuss. You were the one who followed me here. All I had to do was promise to hold you close to my feathers, and you were all shiny-eyed. Besides, the three of us are all well-aware of what you've done to earn yourself a place in this esteemed establishment," the owl said, her tone teasing. “It's no wonder you had so many celestial bounties on you."

With all their remaining strength, Omen pushed back against the owl's touch when Helena attempted to cross their arms over their chest. It was an arm-wrestling match they quickly lost. Helena only needed a little extra strength to get those sorcerous hands secured and locked away. She nodded to herself as she pulled all the straps perfectly taut, restricting any further movement but for the incessant, exhausted thrashing Omen still gave. They remained that way until Iniko dropped them.

Landing softly but nonetheless shaken, Omen was left to sit beneath their captors, desperately aroused as they soaked in the clinging scent of sweat that painted every inch of that chamber. Their cock throbbed for release, but they couldn't find it, no matter how much they writhed and thrust into the air. Neither sheep nor owl offered any assistance either. Iniko provided the opposite of that. Another stiff, commanding gesture, and she conjured a confining cage that locked around the firm inches of the boar's shaft, shutting down those pulses as the cold metal gripped tighter and tighter.

Softening down to a size that comfortably fit within that restrictive chastity device, Omen still throbbed with the few inches they were still permitted, but they were nowhere near release. Their body cried out for it. Every breath was shaky and filled their lungs all the more with the musk that kept them on edge, kept them pining and puffing for release. They were ready to beg. Yet already, their captors were turning away from them.

One last glimpse of the light flooded the room when Iniko made the unseen door open. There was no music anymore. Squinting and briefly blinded, they managed at least a glimpse of what lay beyond, partly concealed by Iniko's enormous silhouette. The factory-turned-club was gone. In its place there were many doors. They resembled the very one Helena had led Omen through to begin with - heavy, solid, and securely locked in place. Some of them rattled. Cries rang out through the halls, their echoes hinting at the vastness of that place, that prison. Iniko glared back at Omen one last time.

The boar was just about to say something, anything in their defense, but they were swiftly silenced by an additional manifestation. Iniko seemingly summoned that muzzle by reflex, so that she didn't have to bear the irritation of hearing her captive's attempt at reasoning with her. Omen felt the click and clamp around their mouth and snout. It wasn't painful, but it was far from comfortable, fighting back against them when they so much as attempted to unseal their lips. The best they could manage, bound, gagged, and caged, was a tight-lipped, muffled moan of dismay. The angel appeared unmoved by such a display.

“Do your best to cry for help. Moan. Beg. [i]Endure[/i]. Your struggles shall only leave you sinking deeper. This false comfort shall envelop you, suffocate you, and yet you shall never find release, of any sort. This is where you remain until you have served your sentence."

Then she slammed the door. It was gone as surely as if it had never been there. The boar was alone, denied their satisfaction, their range of movement too limited as they rubbed and humped against the padded floor. All was soft, absorbing their rising groans, and even their whimpers. Omen was left in the darkness, feeling nothing but the aching need for just one climax, just one last taste of ecstasy before all was numb and dark. Instead, they edged, dripped, pulsed within the cage on their cock, unable to reach down and tend to it. There would be no release. Deep inside, in the furthest reaches of their dread, they knew it was going to last forever.

---

The looming was especially potent that time, especially intimidating. Omen felt more than just judgement. They felt the pure, cold [i]hatred[/i] Iniko had for them as if they only then understood it. There was the sheep's general distaste for mortalkind there - a flaw in her righteousness that no doubt had led to her fall. Omen may have attempted to pick at that weakness to see if it was a sore point, if they were in a less disadvantaged position. Instead, they were going to have to contend with the dread that understanding inspired.

“No. You don't deserve a cell in this place," the sheep finally said, with an infuriated snort. “You deserve to be mine until you are nothing."

For as bad as the circumstances may have been, there was something about the aggressively possessive way she spoke those words that had Omen blushing. Perhaps it was simply that they were starved for any sort of attention after being left on edge for so long, desperate for release yet not daring to move to it. They had already earned Iniko's contempt and disgust, and didn't need any more of it. Even so, they couldn't suppress an excited squeal when the gigantic sheep pressed down on them once more, burying their snout in the warmth of that soft, wet pussy.

The opportunity to eat an angel out swiftly passed Omen by. Iniko wasn't simply smothering the boar. She pressed down deeper and deeper until those walls spread around Omen's features and they found themself bathed in juices far thicker than anything that was already clinging to their skin. For as wet as it was, Omen hardly felt like they were drowning. They welcomed that embrace with a curious pang of sheer arousal. It was warm inside Iniko. Perhaps it was where they truly belonged.

Of course there was still some panic in their muscles when those walls clamped down on their features particularly fiercely. Sometimes it was akin to a kneading massage, and sometimes more of a stifling grip, smothering Omen in that inner flesh as they travelled towards that dark, angelic womb. The squish and squelch of fluids all around their fluids ensured the boar was in a state of constantly drinking in that flavour. Their muscles relaxed all the more as they were shoved away into the great sheep's body, pacified into submission by the sheer strength and will of the one unbirthing them.

It was sweltering inside her, and yet the heat engulfing them was as welcome as if Omen had been freezing to death moments before. They felt comfort there, knowing they didn't have to do anything more, knowing they had reached complete and utter defeat. Kicking their legs wasn't really a matter of struggling - though Helena moved in to secure them nonetheless. The touch of those scales and talons on the ankles and calves was a strangely comforting one as well, even when the owl used that grip to shove Omen deeper inside the sheep's sex. Somewhere deep inside their mind, an alarm rang, wondering if they were simply so entranced by the scents and sensations around them that they had given up, but they dismissed those worries. Everything felt too right to be wrong.

The steady [i]schlurp[/i] of the walls hugging around their body and embracing them in the depths of the once-angelic one left Omen considering sleep. They decided against it simply to keep from missing out on any further sensations. Helena sped things along. Pushing and urging, pressing on the bottom of the boar's hooves, she merrily fed her quarry to her client, letting those squirming legs kick a few more times before they were fully tucked away within the sheep. For as easily as Iniko stretched, she tightened behind Omen once more, sealing off the passage and ending any thought of escape.

Smothered in that warmth, richly coated in those juices, Omen had the chance to grow truly intimate with the walls around them. They breathed nothing but what Iniko offered them, curling up into a familiar position. The sins of their adult life slowly melted away from their mind, and perhaps from their body as well. They stewed inside the womb of the fallen, feeling that anger slowly subsiding around them - or perhaps they were merely growing numb to it. Whether or not Iniko was satisfied with that, they couldn't tell.

What the sheep certainly was, was wet. She was not immune to the desires of the flesh, and Omen was left to rock and shake around within that womb while Iniko and Helena found the release they'd denied the boar. Few dared allow themselves to be willingly pinned by a sheep that big, but Helena braved the weight atop her. Iniko's reward for all the owl's hard work was refraining from crushing her entirely as she mounted and rode that bird. From where they were, confined inside the sheep's belly, Omen could hear the slurps and strokes of that hybrid cock pushing in and out of the very same pussy that had swallowed their entire body, though the finer details were lost on them.

All they could do was shake and bounce about with Iniko's increasingly vigorous motions. It wasn't aggressive, but the sheep was very firm about what she wanted, taking it from the owl between her legs with more and more strength. Omen could hear those muffled moans, could feel the tension rising in both those bodies. The heat only grew more intense around them, and then hotter still when there came a thick, rich spurt of pure hot cum flooding that womb. They could do little more than wear it, and soak in it as Helena drained her balls deep within Iniko's cunt. The two of them fucked as if to breed, leaving the boar as drenched as they were trapped, a captive to marinate in the combined scents of those who had finally hunted them down.

“Mmm. You are very generous with your bonuses," the owl said, her voice faintly audible where Omen dwelt.

Iniko said nothing for the moment, but this time, Omen was almost certain the sheep had finally calmed down. She leaned onto her side, taking the owl with her. What followed could have even been called cuddling, in a generous sense. Helena stroked her fingers over the swell in the great big woman's belly, rubbing Omen in their new home.

“And what becomes of the heretic? It is not my business to know, of course. I admit curiosity."

Iniko took a long, deep sigh and spoke in a calmer, if still booming tone. “Nothing."

“Ah, is that all? Eternal imprisonment?" Helena patted that belly a few times. Omen felt the resulting jiggles. “Sounds about what I would expect."

“No. Less than nothing." Iniko shook her head. “It will be like this one never existed. You will forget the name I gave you. The world will heal, if only slightly."

Helena gave a chuckle. “That sounds much more like the Iniko I know. A grim business, but not at all undeserved. I do hope you have some fun with this, at least."

Iniko simply snorted at the suggestion. Omen stirred some, perhaps processing some of the danger they faced, but every motion they gave simply caused the walls of the womb to close around them a little tighter. Something attached to them around the middle, and that was when they truly knew the sheep spoke truth. All that magic that had been dormant within them throughout the fight was coming out, but not the way they wanted. Iniko slowly drained it from them with every moment they spent inside her, leaving them weaker, more diminished, having a harder and harder time holding onto their consciousness.

With their power went their mind. The wicked ambition that had led them into the clutches of the avenging angel was gone, replaced by a meek, mortal sense of uncertainty. There was no deeper place for their body to go, but they could sink into their mind and go blank a little more the longer they were claimed. Digested? Absorbed? Siphoned away into the sheep's body? Omen wasn't sure if they were feeding Iniko or simply being destroyed. They felt smaller. Weaker. Number. There was something great and hollow opening up inside them as if to consume them from within.

Their sense of time grew less distinct as the process continued. They felt Iniko moving around, leaving that place, walking the world with what looked like a lightly pregnant belly - at least at first. It got smaller by the second - or was it days? Omen was lost in that dark, sustained but running out of time, shrinking down to something they had once been until there was hardly anything left to carry their name. Perhaps they were to be rebirthed, reset to the beginning to be given another chance at redemption. But that wouldn't erase their sins, nor was it going to satisfy the sheep. Omen got smaller.

There was no ceremony to it. Iniko didn't bother to acknowledge them further. When they were merely a speck, far from visible in that soft gut, when they had been drained so deeply as to lose their sense of self-awareness, when all thought was gone and only sensory input remained, deleting what had been Omen from existence was as simple as blinking. The sheep may or may not have noticed. It didn't matter to her, either way. To fade from existence entirely, without a single trace of their body or mind remaining, was the proper penance for what Omen had done. Iniko's self-imposed duty was fulfilled. The mad sorcerer was punished, vanished entirely within that womb, and they were never going to hurt someone again.