Bloodmoon Resort: Satan’s Trip 4
Satan is enjoying a new perspective on the vacations
Bloodmoon Resort: Satan’s Trip 4
Satan is enjoying a new perspective on the vacations
“Faster! Hrmph! Better! Stronger! Faster! Better! Stronger!“
Satan’s shouts were practically a mantra many Demons followed as they huffed and moved as one. Their voices were more timorous than his in many ways. Some were obviously spent or regretting their choices.
Even then, the mantra continued while the scent of sulfuric sweat permeated the beach gym.
“How long?” asked Satan, his voice raw.
“Hmm? Three minutes. Don’t bother me again,” answered Orcus, reading a book that was propped up by skeletons. As if he wasn’t indolent enough in yoga pants, relaxing in a hammock lifted by two bovine-like skeletons, and swaying with one hooved leg thrown over the hammock.
The sheer contrast Orcus presented compared to the twenty-ish demons working out was mind-boggling for some. But there was no point in trying to get Orcus to do something, Satan knew. And in return, the skull-faced Demon was keen to help organize the schedule and timing as long as he could see the suffering and exhaustion on the Demons lifting the weights in a squatting lift.
That and the sexual display Satan offered.
Another source of contrast was the permanent sight of the fitness instructor on the side. The Helmeted Human wore the typical attire but moved around the Demonic creatures of all sizes and shapes, avoiding the lashing out tails and osseous growth to help some adjust their postures. Not everyone could imitate Satan perfectly, and many would take wrong postures and habits if not guided.
But Satan? Oh, he did not care. He smiled through the workout, feeling the sting of his muscles bulging from lifting those enchanted weights.
Who knew enchanted iron would be such an excellent training tool?
“I want to see you sweating! Do better, Bloodthirster!” shouted Satan, his muzzle and four eyes directed at one of the Demons that hailed from another corner of the warp.
That one had been distracting the others, mainly commenting on how this was stupid and he wasn’t into it.
“Care to share?” asked Satan, his nostrils fuming.
“I’m no bottom, I leave!” shouted Bloodthirster, practically the third time he’d been called out in the last thirty minutes.
“Good! This is a place for training and releasing your anger. If you prefer to leave, go for it!” shouted Satan, flames flaring from his nostrils before he exhaled… For a moment, the sound of the weight moving stopped. Even the hip pushing, the heaving breaths, and the squelching sounds halted.
A silence that remained long enough for Orcus to cough.
“One more minute.”
“Yeah, I got this, Orcus,” grumbled Satan as he exhaled and forced a smile on his face.
His anger was there, flaring. But he still had the golems to get it out. Plus, there was the pleasure in showing off.
An instant later, Satan puffed out his chest. His reddish nipples were practically begging for attention, atop his chiseled chest that was without a hint of fat. The dry muscles were defined under the scales, forming a contour that could be followed with a finger. The bulging muscles throbbed, bounced, appeared, and disappeared with Satan as he lifted the weight again, lifting what was enchanted to become an impossible weight for Demons.
Yet, Satan lifted it. His posture was clean, without excess movements… All despite the evidence that was beheld whenever the gaze drifted down.
The squelching became louder as he lifted higher, pushing with his thighs and forcing his glutes to clench while lifting. The weighted toy couldn’t follow and then followed a tug between flesh and gravity.
One Satan was losing as he sensed the mix of lube spurt out when his rim released its grip.
Such was the same sound, the same sensation, for anyone following his movements.
A moment later, Satan was at the apex. Everyone was holding their breath.
One second. Then he lowered his hip carefully. And so, the squelching practically became a slurping sound when his asshole was to take the swollen and evidently phallic shape. The organ, fake as it was, slipped within Satan’s orifice, and a smile appeared on Satan’s face.
Moans, gasped and stifled, followed from the attendees… Before they were all down, Satan among them.
The Deadly Sin stood before all the crowd, squatting and getting impaled on a dildo. A massive dildo.
His cock wasn’t fully erect, but anyone could peer at the Deadly Sin’s throbbing shaft, at the engorged mast that was Satan’s penis, as the slightly revealed cocktip whenever it oozed precum over the ground and into the grooves that collected everyone’s fluids.
The low-hanging testicles rested on the lukewarm concrete, the orbs down while the skin sagged and draped over them, forming wrinkles due to the excessive size of that scrotum.
Even the cocktip was practically throbbing one inch above the ground, bobbing up and down in a threatening fashion.
Similarly, many a Demon was sporting such similar cocks. For those who were limp-dicked or had a cunt, their gushing fluids were a hint they enjoyed the sensation as much as the show.
Even Doom was among them, though he was all too focused on lifting to care about his genitals on the ground… Or his swaying tits with each lift.
Satan saw them, his ‘group’, and grinned as he heard the huff from Orcus, the unique call the skull-faced Demon would do.
And so… He lifted again, just to put the weight back on the rack. Everyone else followed, though many were practically begging silently for the exercise to stop and for their lives to be spared.
Though many Demons came to life with exceptional figures, not so many worked out or tasted the burn as much as Satan did.
Yet, as he stood up, Satan watched how some looked satisfied. The Deadly Sin grabbed his cock, gave it a few strokes before he squeezed the foreskin and length entirely. With his hands, he forced all that precum out, and so it oozed out of the wrinkles and fell into the grooves.
Not every demon followed… It was mainly the most virile, like the Capra Demon, at the forefront, who did so.
“Good job,” said Satan, jovial as he moved one leg. His asshole stung a tad, but he acted like it was nothing as he stepped left… He rotated his torso while watching the Human helper push the weight racks, as if they could have been wheeled out at any moment.
“For this next exercise and while the staff installs everything, we’ll do core muscles!”
Grunts followed, though many went away when Satan was the first to lie down on the suddenly present Yoga mat and started with crunches.
He made a sign to Orcus, giving him a thumbs up, and Orcus answered with a huff. However, he was the only one who could do that, and, for all his faults, Orcus could follow orders.
Be’lakor? He was getting dicked. Doom couldn’t help. Balanar was busy with a tennis match. Rakdos and Raum were gone on a jaunt.
Someone else could have stepped in, but Satan was satisfied with the accord they had while he lifted his knees and began the crunches.
However, for this exercise, he wasn’t going for the standard posture. As bad a habit as it was, Satan already had a well-defined waistline and wasn’t there to improve. He preferred to show off, much like when the same Human helper approached and presented the ribbed dildo to Satan’s entrance.
And one moment later, Satan’s sphincter clenched as tight as possible on the dildo.
“Better! Stronger! Firmer! Get going! I want to see you lose that fat!” shouted Satan, knowing that here, not so many were doing the exercises.
Instead, many had their eyes riveted on Satan doing crunches while, with each crunch, his asshole released its grip. His glutes tensed, however, holding onto the dildo… And through inner contraction, more of that ribbed toy was forced within.
Within minutes, Demons of all sorts were watching the Deadly Sin forcefully inserting a dildo within his asshole and with no hands, with no help. Only muscles, controls, and contractions of the body made for war.
Satan smiled, though the exercise continued as well as his bark.
He could feel the eyes upon him, more so of wandering Demons or onlookers who couldn’t stop watching the Deadly Sin in that display. Satan had earned a name as a dom top, a fucker of lesser demons. But here he was, taking that plastic purple ‘thing’ inside his ass like any quality whore.
“Hey! You want to look, you’d better join in!” he barked at one of them, making many lesser Demons scamper away from the open-air gym.
“We can join?” asked a Demon, entirely made of Magma, leaning over the stone wall and leering at Satan’s ass while he shifted from crunch to plank, all the while with that purple dildo end poking out of his asshole.
“Check with Orcus. He’ll register you,” said Satan, snapping his finger towards the indolent Demon. “You’ll take Bloodthirster’s spot.”
Followed then a hiss and a swear when the magma Demon saw where the spot was located, practically at the rear.
“First come, first served,” Satan said, his tone intransigent as he looked over his shoulder. Many Demons had decided to do the plank like him. As for the fatties who couldn’t, the instructor was giving them instructions.
“Okay! Ready for the plank? I’ll do five minutes! Keep up with me!” shouted Satan, finally taking the posture and enjoying the grunts behind him.
The exercise was challenging for those without prior experience.
“Don’t cry, or I’ll do it for one hour! And I’ll punish those who fail!”
“What’s the punishment?” asked a well-endowed Imp at the forefront.
“One entire week in chastity without getting off, instructor orders. So shut up!”
A collective gulp followed, and Satan smiled, chuffed while he returned to the exercise mentally. And to the show.
The dildo was still firmly inserted within him. And so, with his genitals pressed against the ground… Satan seemed to hump.
But no.
With a movement, he dislodged the ribbed dildo. And then, with an impossible show, for mortals, he began to make the purple end bob up and down. Some cried in awe, surprised by how much control Satan had over his own asshole. But they were also excited watching the dildo, purple and coated in lube, slipping out of that asshole before it was pulled within with a slurping sound.
The awe it induced was enough to have Satan smirking to himself as he continued the exercise while maintaining that form that made his abdominal muscles burn in a good way. After having been pumped full of cum recently, he enjoyed the idea of losing all those calories. More so, while getting watched and admired by a bunch of Demons who’d seen nothing like a workout.
Most were lustful beings or ravenous beasts, or both. But he had them under his thumb, practically drooling over themselves at the idea of approaching Satan.
The Deadly Sin chuckled until Orcus coughed.
Then, he dropped.
“Good. Five minutes. You can stop!” he shouted.
Many demons dropped and groaned, holding onto their sides as they rolled. For the few who wouldn’t or couldn’t plank, they were sore from the other exercises that’d been given.
And would be more after Satan stood up.
With no grip on the dildo, the toy dropped and formed a puddle on the ground before it was somehow swept away.
And Satan, far from being bothered, approached the conveniently installed, and modified, bench press that was near his Yoga mat.
He sat on it, letting his genitals dangle from the edge while everyone noticed the available bench presses and their numbers, limited.
“The staff doesn’t have enough spotters, so you’ll have to group up. Team of three in rotation. One does the exercises, and the others help him,” said Satan as he lay on the bench, adjusting his posture. Leg supports were installed so he could keep his legs lifted. Though it would denature the exercise, it allowed for something else…
A show, with his gaping and lubricated asshole to be exposed. A hole that practically winked to the crowd as Satan smiled and snapped his fingers.
“I need two spotters. Capra! Mehrunes! Come here!”
The skull-headed Demon, way different and toned compared to Orcus, approached. And so did the four-armed Stud, who’d been recently blasted in a recent campaign.
The two approached Satan. Without even seeing them, Satan knew their lustful desires…
And the Deadly Sin grinned, watching their obvious erections, especially Capra’s.
“Capra. You spot from the front. Mehrunes, you handle the waist, good?”
There were two yes, one more haughty than the other. But in the end, the spotters were there. And without any doubt, Satan lifted the enchanted weight and brought it down. All the while, Capra’s cock, black like coal and extremely long, presented itself on Satan’s right, the length already uncovered and the tip presented.
Below, near the waist, Mehrunes’ four arms were at work in holding Satan’s thighs and waist, keeping him steady…
All so one lone hand guided the Daedra’s erection right under Satan’s plump asshole, right into the orifice that was stretchier now that the Deadly Sin had accepted he could take dicks and stay a top in other relationships.
“Good. Everyone! Only thrust after one lift, you want to reward your bitch. Don’t fuck them up!”
Then, Satan lifted.
Mehrunes’ thrust was evident, shaking Satan’s body in one swoop. But in return, the Deadly Sin’s erection bobbed up and then arose. Blood rushed to the organ, making it point up and spurt precum all over Satan’s groin.
In the meantime, Capra’s hooves danced, and his neediness was exasperating for Satan, who threw his head back, craned his neck, and presented his mouth.
“Come on! Did I say you’d do nothing?” he growled.
One second later, Capra pulled his hip back, bent over to ensure the weight wouldn’t drop on Satan’s chest. And then, that cocktip, with a cut foreskin, presented itself to Satan, who swallowed it.
Not that he had any other options. But slowly, steadily, Capra’s erection slipped inside his throat and made it bulge. A bulge similar to Satan’s belly when the two cocks were forcefully inside… And Satan lifted.
Then, at the apex, he felt the hit. The chin hit, the nostrils smacked by Capra’s sweaty nuts. The ass clapped, the erection smacked his prostate.
And then, Satan lowered the weight, feeling the respite from Capra pulling back and air sucked in.
Outside, whistles, moans, groans, and chuckles were exchanged. Probably nobody respected the rule of the three-on-one bench. Perhaps it was more, perhaps it was less.
But Satan wasn’t caring at all as he continued to bench press, one movement at a time, one thrust at a time.
The shocks sent him rocking back and forth, between the hammer and the anvil. It made the bench creak, but it wouldn’t break or fail. Satan huffed and exhaled through his nose with fumes following while the Demon and Daedra worked alongside him, following the instruction: lift and reward, lift and reward, lift and reward.
Lifts that were faster as Satan hit his sweet spot. Satan’s arms were burning hot, and the muscles were throbbing under the scales. So did his pecs, since that was where the exercise exerted the most pressure. But followed the pleasure, the satisfaction as he was getting fucked… And in return, he was approaching an orgasm, a reward, a climax that was not forced, bought, or even forced upon him.
It was the kind of pleasure Satan desired as he lifted, lifted, lifted… His groin burned. Capra and Mehrunes were gasping, as they had to follow the same pace as he did. And soon, the two’s faces contorted in controlled pleasure.
Their jaws clenched, their eyelids closed, their hands rushed to dig into Satan’s scales further… And then, at the apex, with Satan not even counting the thrusts and the lifts, the two… Climaxed.
And Satan continued. He was feeling pumped.
And pumped in.
Their semen was raw and hot, abundant and sticky. Dense, too, as it flushed his insides and accumulated inside his guts, locked through the tight lips and tighter asshole.
The semen, musky and salty, was not stopping. It continued rushing inside, filling Satan like a protein shake until, in the end, the two had to stop.
Their hips were still pumping weakly, but their shots were growing weaker and weaker. Their breaths were fast, hastened. And their bodies were bent over. Yet, they were still stroking, caressing, even reaching for Satan’s erection that had not budged yet, and-
A cough.
Satan lifted the weight a last time from the press and put it back before pushing the two away with his arms and legs. His erection was throbbing and hard. And it throbbed harder when he sat up, eyeing the two bewildered studs.
“It’s my turn spotting. Capra, on the bench,” said Satan, almost eager to fuck that Goat’s asshole. “Mehrunes, you take the face.”
Satan stood up, though the bench was sticky with sweat and precum. And it was Capra’s turn, though the lesser Demon looked almost stressed with his tiny red eyes focusing on Satan. Even when the Deadly Sin looked over his shoulder to witness the musky orgy happening behind.
“Everyone! Stop fucking around and switch! Bottom on top!” he laughed, watching and hearing the disappointment. Even though Satan was about to have his moment.
-
“Oh yeah, that’s a fat bitch!” laughed Satan, delivering a smack on that plump posterior.
Even though they were still at an all-you-can-eat buffet, Demons were not restrained by most rules of conduct. And if it were to fuck someone over while forcing their head into the mac and cheese tray, Satan would do so.
He laughed, too, though many were side-eyeing him or avoiding the duo, the flapping wings, the flailing tail, or Satan even flexing as he pumped inside that tight orifice.
Molag Bitch had earned his name, and the Orc-conquered Daedra had such a lovely ass compared to the bony self he was before. It was almost comparable to Doom. No, even better with all those degrading tattoos all over it.
“Green-loving bitch”, “Orc-ed”, “Fuck me over” were all written over that ass that desperately needed more abuse.
Molag Bitch was certainly complaining, between his mac-and-cheese-heavy breaths. But Satan was quick to silence him with one firm thrust and a firmer hand. And quicker to pound that prostate that made that tiny erection squirt over the ground.
It was the third shot, and Satan? Oh, he was not done yet. His groin burned; that asshole was the right kind of hole. But he was keeping himself. Just a bit more. A tiny bit more.
He clenched his glutes. He clenched his thighs. And then, with a roar and his wings almost smacking Cthulhu’s plate, Satan came.
Right into that asshole, filling the dark-gray cheeks with his magma-like cum, feeling the bitch shuddering and moaning into the mess of cheese and pasta. It was delightful; it was pleasant… It was exciting as Satan continued to flex while watched by the onlookers, mainly the restaurant’s clients, who were surprised he’d do something as flashy right now.
But then, Satan pulled back.
His magma-like cum followed, steamy and hot. The fluids, under pressure within Molag Bitch, flowed free and landed on Satan’s glabrous nuts and thighs. Then it fell, forming a cascade before it all splashed onto the tiled floor, pooling into a musky and steamy puddle.
A puddle Satan stepped away from as he grabbed his plate and one towel to wipe his groin before he stuffed the towel inside Molag Bitch’s ass. There, he left the Daedra moaning, groaning, and still bent over for anyone’s use.
“Thanks for the hole. See you on the next break!” laughed Satan, waving his hand as he returned to his table, his plate of algae in hand.
“Nice show,” commented Rakdos, happily dining on a stack of ribs. He was eating the meat off before handing the bones to Orcus, so Orcus could gnaw them.
“I know, right? I’m feeling pumped!” said Satan, lifting his arms to flex them before he grabbed the sticks to eat the algae, slurping them.
“Next break, everyone will want a turn with you,” added Doom, happily sharing a bowl of seared human meat with Balanar.
“I know. Everyone will want a piece of Satan,” continued the Deadly Sin, happy to get such praise.
“You’re not afraid your vacations will turn into work?”
That was Orcus. The bone-skull Demon was gnawing the bones, crushing them, and licking the marrow inside.
“Yeah? No. Pfh! That was easy-peasy. Fucking? I cannot do that back home without having to handle Asmodeus and all the others on my ass,” commented Satan, laughing and his wings flapping.
In the meantime, Raum was already ordering another bottle of blood while the large group ate at the table for the celebration.
“So, when will you return?”
Oh, the question hurt.
For a moment, Satan stroked his chin before turning to Be’lakor. The ashen-skinned Demon had been sparse even though it was a buffet and Satan paid for everyone at the table.
“I don’t know. When I return, I’ll be swamped,” answered Satan, stroking his chin.
“Oh fuck. Can’t you delegate?”
“You could ask your imps or whatever to do it,” added Doom, pointing a finger.
“Or have the undead handled it. They’re cheap,” continued Orcus, munching.
“No, no, no, and no. I won’t let imps or undead do what’s necessary. I have a court to maintain, guys. It’s not a kingdom or a realm or… What you have.”
“Then, when will we see you? In another millennium?” asked Be’lakor.
The question stung a bit. But Satan frowned. Then his brows dropped, and he sighed, reaching for a glass.
“No. I won’t let them be between you and me, guys!” said Satan, raising a glass. “I promise I’ll be there in twenty years! No one, not even Lucifer, will stop me!”
“Not even Yogirt?”
That was Balanar, and his smile was mischievous.
“Yogirt? He will join me next time, guys. You’ll love him!” said Satan, raising his glass higher. “To the Resort!”
“To our friend!”
“To our favorite top!”
“To his dick!” laughed all of them, even Satan, as they were toasting to more breaks. And more dickings.