House of Temptation – 4 [❤️❤️❤️]

If you ignore all the demons, Haven isn’t so bad. Quinn, the demon puppeteering Rusty’s soulless husk, was nice enough to offer you a property on a parcel of land north of the main city. From what others tell you, it’s more valuable than the apartments in the city center, but not as prestigious as the flying houses occupied by the more powerful demons of Haven.

You are Venture the minotaur, and over the past few days, you’ve kept mostly to yourself as you recover. Your new house is big: three bedrooms, a kitchen, a foyer, two bathrooms, and running water. Owning such a property is a big enough mark in your favor that people, not just demons, offer to join your harem just to live with you.

It may also be because you’re one of five mortal bulls in all of Haven.

There have also been a few powerful demons requesting you join their harems. Some of what they offered was almost tempting.

If you hadn’t witnessed how a demonic deal could go wrong.

So you said no to the wacky guy and his freaky shrink girlfriend, no to the lady with her piles of gold and silver, and no to the harpy that wanted to paint you naked.

You’d be happy to stay in your house, but boredom and hunger drive you to explore Haven every now and again. Shopping is remarkably convenient, and you pay with the tokens from odd jobs rather than sexual favors.

You wish you could say you’ve remained pure, untouched by the perviness of this world. That’d be a lie. You’re still a man, and you have needs. You try to keep away from demons, but every now and then, you fuck one in disguise.

One succubus in particular, a freak that goes by Friday.

Thankfully, you’ve managed to make some…friends? You’re not sure that’s the right word.

‘Lovers’ is also too intimate.

You sigh when you see White whittling some wood on your porch. Her tail wags slightly as you approach, and she claps her paws to send one of her imps to help you carry your groceries. You’re not so stubborn to refuse help, but you’re not a fan of the dog-like imp. It flaps its bat wings, its too-big cock brushing against your shoulder as it takes your bags inside.

Aside from the occasional quick fuck after failing at another scheme to have her father impregnate her, White is a good friend. You’re off-put by her intense incestuous desires, but beggars can’t be choosers. Plus, she was the one who introduced you to the right people for odd jobs.

Your skills from working under Rusty came in handy. Carpentry, knitting, leatherworking, forgery, smithing, cooking, distilling…you’re a bit of a jack of all trades.

“How’s Haven’s most eligible bachelor?” White chuckles.

A joke. You’re probably the only person in Haven who isn’t in a relationship of some sort.

HOW’S THE PRESIDENT OF THE FATHERFUCKER CLUB? You clap back.

Less of a joke. It’s a small club mostly consisting of succubi, but White is among its most prominent members. And she’s not actually the president, some succubus named Ash is.

It used to be that you’d stumble up the porch, but the demon doctors did good work. If only they didn't insist on taking payment through your dick.

They are voracious once they take off their nurse uniforms.

Either way, it was worth it. The medicine they gave you helps you a lot to recover from your misadventure. You’re mostly back to full form, having filled out nicely with only minimal joint pain. Now if only your throat didn’t feel like it was constantly being eaten away by acid-puking wasps.

You drop onto a couch and White plops down next to you, nabbing the controller and surfing through channels. You like her because she doesn’t stop on the porn and openly masturbate next to you.

Unlike some demons.

Instead, she stops on a series you and her have been bonding over, one with minimal sex scenes. It’s very inaccurate concerning actual dragons, but the political intrigue is interesting enough. You and White shoot the shit about clients, Haven, and the series as her imp prepares some popcorn, until she eventually asks the question.

“Any progress on that throat replacement?”

NO. I DON’T THINK QUINN INTENDS ON FIXING ME.

Her ears fold back.

“That’s ridiculous.” She rubs the effigy in her pocket absent-mindedly. “Lord Quinn cares for everyone. She went out of her way to heal me and many others with barely a wave of her hands for each of us. If she isn’t healing you, it’s because the injury is worse than you think.”

Aside from her rampant obsession with breeding her own father, you’re also put off by White’s devotion to Quinn. She’s almost as zealous as the priests of Minos, and Quinn isn’t even an Empyrean. You don’t care if Quinn saved a bunch of people, she ripped the soul out of your captain and best friend, the man who freed you from slavery long ago.

Sure, you were still paying him interest, but your honor demanded it.

“Since you got here, Lord Quinn has barely come down from her palace. Not even for a quickie. Whatever issue you have, she’s working on it.” She brings up the foghole and waves it in your face. “If she wasn’t answering her foghole, people would think she’s gone missing!”

MAYBE.

“Ugh.” The kobold rolls her eyes. “Whatever attacked you is a lot stronger than you give it credit.”

No, it’s exactly as strong as you think it is. Enough to rock your shit fifty ways from Endday. You have enough nightmares of that thing as is.

I’D FEEL BETTER IF FRIDAY WASN’T COMING BY EVERY DAY IN A NEW DISGUISE TO DRAIN MY BALLS.

She’s gotten better at disguising herself. Once, you ran into an elf girl at the grocery store. After you helped her grab something on the upper shelves, she invited you to her condo for dinner. One thing led to another, and you ended up sleeping with her. Seconds after you came inside her, she dropped the act and ran off laughing.

The succubus went so far as to eat mortal food and pretend to be shy about sleeping with you to get you to cum inside her.

That was last week. The cons have gotten more elaborate since then, and the only way to see through her is to catch her accent.

“You know she’s one of the most powerful demons here, right? Enough that she monopolized that job—”

Her mouth snaps shut. That job? Hold on, White blew you a couple times and kept your load in a condom afterwards. You thought it was part of Haven’s perverted culture, seeing a few goblins wandering around with filled condoms tied to their earrings, but would it have been just another job on the board? Was there a fucking job posting to obtain your semen in the main square, where everyone could see it?

WHITE.

She looks away guiltily.

WHITE, WAS THERE A BOUNTY OUT FOR MY CUM?

She looks even more guilty. And you’re mortified. Now you know why everyone had eyes on you your first couple days here.

WHAT THE FUCK, WHITE.

“Listen, it’s part of Quinn’s experiments, okay?” She avoids looking at you. “She needed a lot of your ‘Dee-enay’, whatever that is, to fix your throat. Friday sort of…took charge after a while? I think she really likes you, Venture. She’s never written a ballad for anyone before.”

You try not to think of the song she wrote. You overheard part of it on the radio, a long mournful tune accompanied by a strumming guitar that quickly devolved into an account of all the wretched things she wants to do to you.

The Shipborn have some messed up ideas on minotaur mating practices.

I BELIEVE IN A TRADITIONAL UNION, ONE MALE AND ONE FEMALE. THE GREAT MINOS ENSURED THERE’D BE SEVEN BULLS FOR SEVEN COWS, AND I INTEND TO KEEP THAT BALANCE.

“What are you talking about?” White lowers the volume for some reason and stares at you in confusion. “There’s three women for every man in Prillia, and those stats are being generous.”

That’s ridiculous. Why would there be such a massive skew? Prillia is isolated by the Sky Empyrean’s southward tempest current, so you and the rest of the world have very limited information on what’s going on there. But those ratios seem unlikely.

“And isn’t Minos go—”

The door slams open. Leaning on the doorframe is a red-skinned demon, her tight black suit barely constraining her leaky tits and swollen belly. Her green eyes drink you in, fear and arousal running through you as she steps inside.

Quinn is here.

“Heya, Venture!” A button pops off her midsection and beans White’s imp in the head. “Nice to see you healthy! And White! How are things?”

You try to avoid looking at her, avoid looking at the steadily growing patches of wet fabric clinging to her tits, avoid looking at her beautiful face, avoid looking at the things shifting in her pants. But she’s like a magnet for your eyes.

And your dick.

You look to White for help, but she’s openly panting, paws trailing between her legs. At least she stops when she sees you giving her the evil eye, but come on, can’t she control herself?

…She is the one who constantly tries to fuck her dad, so she most definitely can’t.

Quinn shuts the door behind her, sealing your fate.

You close your eyes tight and pray. Only she settles down between you and White, stretching her arm over the kobold’s shoulder. White’s tail thuds heavily on the couch and she nestles closer to Quinn.

“Ooh, has the Red Wedding happened yet?”

“The what?”

“Never mind. Will you relax, Venture? I’m not going to suck the soul out of you! I’ll suck you off so hard that you’ll think it’s your soul…okay, not helping.” She scratches White behind the ear, but all you can see is her stomach swell a few more inches. “Your injury, wow.”

She shakes her head and shudders as something shifts around in her pregnancy. She moans and your cushions are ruined.

“Unf~! The guy who got you, I think I know him. He’s the guy who set up the ship you and Rusty found me on, and he’s very, very good.” She unbuttons her blouse, letting her huge knockers spill out into White’s face. The kobold huffs her in, panting harder as milk spills down her gorgeous breasts. “I had to research some stuff on my own time, but I managed to find a workaround.”

Quinn explains all the interesting spells and tricks the being known as Aevum used to screw your throat over. Something complicated, a curse that relied not on holy or demonic means, you don’t get much of it because White is steadily getting hornier and so are you.

Quinn brings White's head to her breast and invites her to drink as she explains. It's a bit hard to follow with your friend sucking at her tits and moaning as milk runs down her chin, but you follow along. Essentially, there is no way you can heal the damage. Quinn explains that she was inspired by your workaround, and that while she couldn’t heal your larynx, she could replace it. She just needed something to fleshcraft that was you enough to not get rejected by your body.

“Thus the semen.”

WHAT?

You didn’t get that last part. There’s something poking out of Quinn’s pants. Unfortunately, you’ve been in Haven long enough to know that it’s not a penis.

“Right.” Quinn laughs. “You need a demonstration.”

No, you don’t. No you don’t, nope, no need at all–her pants are already coming off. She’s now naked and your only friend is salivating on the wiggling tentacle cock between Quinn’s legs. You try to reach for the remote, but it’s on the other side of the couch. The tentacle licks up White’s muzzle, and Quinn whispers in her ear.

“You were such a knockout when you were pregnant, White.” The kobold whines and rubs Quinn’s swollen belly. “Want me to give you a few more imps?”

“Yes, yes! Stuff me full of puppies!” White begs. “Breed me, breed me, breed meeee!~”

You’d prefer to watch the television. You’d prefer to leave the room and go to bed early. But Quinn pushes White on her back and tears off her pants, revealing her drooling pussy, you can’t stop watching. Your cock threatens to burst out of your pants, and you cover your crotch.

White pants louder, Quinn’s tentacle cock spooling out of her pussy to tease White’s pussy. Quinn winks your way and the tentacle plunges into the howling kobold. The demon queen barely thrusts her massive hips, the tentacle doing most of the work for her, spreading Quinn’s cunt apart as it drills into White.

Every time the tendril thrusts into the kobold, Quinn and White moan loudly and spray femcum all over your couch. You rub your erection through your pants, and your eyes are glued on Quinn as she fucks your best friend. Your traitorous fingers pull down your pants as milk dribbles from Quinn’s trembling nipples, and you find yourself jacking off.

Shamefully.

White catches sight of you masturbating and her moans get deeper. Quinn’s smile grows and she spreads her legs apart further, fully thrusting her swollen belly into her crotch. Her boobs swing even more, spraying you and White in her milk.

“Venture’s going to see you get pregnant! Watch you give birth!” Quinn giggles are cut short when White moans even louder, beads of milk appearing on her growing tits. “How much of a slut are you to cum from that?~”

“Yesyesyes! Preggers! Breed! Stuff me daddy! Yes~!”

“Your friend is masturbating to your ahegao, and all you think about is Red? You’re such a pervert!” Quinn turns to you and clenches one of her tits. “Keep jacking off, Venture. This preggo slut wants some fireworks once she stuffs White!”

The tentacle twitches between them and something spreads Quinn’s love tunnel apart, her dirty talk cut short by a squeal of delight. The mass shoves past Quinn’s pussy and into White, her stomach bloating as both of them cum at the same time, spraying their fluids everywhere. Then another mass passes between them, and another, their screams of ecstasy growing with each payload.

It's too much, you shoot a load all over the pregnant couple.

Finally, Quinn separates herself from the swollen, panting kobold. The tentacle weakly squirms, trying to tunnel deeper into the exhausted kobold, but Quinn just pulls it out like a flaccid cock. Purplish cum pools out of your friend as she struggles to catch her breath, rubbing her swollen stomach lovingly.

Quinn swings around, eyes on your still-erect cock. Her pregnancy roils, the thing inside her hungry for more.

“Relax, baby. I’m almost done.” Quinn pats her pregnancy, the tired tendril poking out of her squirming up her stomach and nestling between her bloated boobs. “Your daddy can go another round.”

Daddy?

White hears ‘daddy’ and rouses from the afterglow. Only for her to tremble and arch backwards, her pussy spraying the last of the tentacum out of her snatch. Quinn sashays over to you as White moans, rubbing her pregnancy with half-lidded eyes. She grabs your cock and rubs it against her stomach, cooing as your precum glazes her stomach.

“Don’t mind White, Venture. She’s only giving birth to a litter of your imps.” She leans back and pushes the head of your cock into her cunny, squeezing past the tendril.

Your imps? What the hells is inside Quinn?

You don’t get a chance to ask. Quinn spears herself on your cock, loudly sucking on the tendril that shoved itself into her mouth. Your mind goes blank as she rides you, her tits flopping around the tentacle as they spray milk every time she hilts your cock inside her. A scream of joy pierces the horny haze, and you spot White furiously rubbing her pussy as she pushes something out of her.

It comes out with a final screech, shakes the goo from its body, and stands up. Is that a mini you? It’s got your mane, your head, your eyes…only its cock is the same size as yours, but there’s no mistaking it.

That imp looks like you.

You clench your teeth and groan, Quinn’s pussy tightening on your member. Her muffled moans capture your attention again, and you notice the squirming pregnancy has reached a fever pitch. The tendril pops out of her mouth, spraying jizz all over Quinn’s face.

The demon opens her mouth to catch it all, drool and cum spilling down her chin. Her pussy squeezes the last of your semen out of your rod, and something squirms around your cock. Quinn pulls herself away from you and leans on the couch contently, rubbing her pussy as she coaxes more of the tendril out of her. White, her yips now muffled by the imp’s cock in her mouth, trembles as she births another imp in a spray of milk.

You struggle to wrap your mind around the sight of White and Quinn giving birth to horrifying creatures. Quinn pushes the last of the tentacle out, her long tongue lolled out between her heaving breasts. You avoid looking at her, but White isn’t much better, jacking off her two imp sons as she births a third.

Quinn’s body shrinks to her usual proportions.

She snaps her fingers and her clothes jump back onto her. She picks up the monstrous pile of pale tentacles she gave birth to and holds up so you can see.

“This is how I’ll fix your throat. A bit of fleshcraft and…”

Quinn mashes her hands together and the tentacles meld together like clay. She frowns as powerful magic changes the monstrosity into a thin tube. Then, she gives you a big grin. You smile nervously in response. Which is all she needs.

She leaps forward and shoves the thing in your face. It swivels around, jumps into your mouth and then your throat. You’d scream in panic if you still had your voice. Instead, you flail backwards and fall off the couch. Your throat feels like it’s on fire!

“I have a shoggoth, so shogglings are super easy to make.”

The pain in your throat fades, until you feel…normal?

“They’re the perfect creatures to shape into replacement organs. I needed a lot of your DNA to figure it out, then work from the dick up.” Quinn crosses her legs, ignoring White’s loud moaning as her imps use her. “Give it a try!”

You open and close your mouth a few times. You don’t believe it. The pain is gone, but your voice?

“A…are you sure?” It starts raspy, but your voice settles in a deep baritone.

There’s no pain. It may not be your voice, but it’s a voice nonetheless.

“Wonderful!” Quinn claps her hands. “Your new voice box works! It should be more flexible than your original one, so you can experiment and try to find the range that suits you.”

You lick your lips. This is…far beyond what you thought was possible. She didn’t even strike a deal with you, she went out of her way to heal you for no reason. You understand why White is so devoted.

You spare her a glance. She just finished birthing the last imp, and now she’s got two imps fucking her pussy and asshole as she titfucks and sucks off the other two. Her gaze is faded with lust, her imps gleefully slapping her ass and breasts at every opportunity.

You understand one reason why she’s so devoted.

Sighing, you sit on the couch next to Quinn. It’d be rude to kick White out now. Let her have fun. You grab the remote and rewind to catch up on the plot you missed, and Quinn rests her head on your shoulder with a hum.

You finish watching the episode with Quinn and a distracted White. Weirdly, the imps eventually stop fucking her to watch along, leaving your friend a cum-covered, panting mess.

You toss some popcorn at her. It gets stuck on the cum mixture covering her entire body. She sends you a tired glare and picks them off her sticky body to feed her imps.

The sphinx looks down at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. You are Rumpelstiltskin, and though you haven’t had a chance to lose this body’s anal virginity, the madam of Nancy’s Tavern just rocked your smaller body’s cock like a pro.

“You are far more skilled than your typical harpy.” She lazes on the satin bed, not bothering to cover herself. “They usually pump a few times before finishing quickly. But you? Using your claws and wings like that? Marvelous.”

“Thanks. I am pretty great.”

“Funny.” The sphinx’s good demeanor fades. “I doubt you came here to lay with me and crack jokes.”

“I go everywhere with the intention of fucking and cracking jokes.” You pull up the satchel you brought along. “But for you, I wanted to offer a gift. Missy finished checking the demon summoning books and we’re about to roll them out. I wanted to offer you the only version with a full roster.”

You hand her the book. It’s a much higher quality hardcover than the few books in Nancy’s Tavern, with clean white pages and legible typed text. The few demon books you got a look at were esoteric, bound in creepy leather and seemed to be written by calligraphers with Parkinsons.

The Haven Summoning book you gave her looked like it could belong on a shelf in a modern library. You would have enchanted it to be durable, but you have no intention of making this version readily available. If its easy to destroy, so be it.

You’re also working on a summoning tome with traps, intended for those who’d like to do you or your kids harm. For now, the rituals you outlined would give the summoned demons a glimpse of where they’re being summoned and allow them the chance to refuse. In future editions, there’ll be plenty of traps and misdirection so that your demons will have an edge.

For now, the first volume will be sold to allies. Each one will look slightly different, so you can track who gave which version to who.

Lucky for Baiser, she has no restrictions at all. She may be distant, but you trust the sphinx. You helped her dominate the red light district again after all, and you read her soul enough to know that she has the best intentions for her workers and the Tavern.

Baiser thumbs through the book, a smile pulling at her red lips.

“There’s another thing.”

“Hm?” She closes the book and raises an eyebrow.

“One of the succubi…November wants to fund a trade vessel. She’d like to have you as a sponsor.”

“Oh?” Baiser stretches like a cat. “Your demons are truly interesting. This November, does she know how much a trade vessel will cost her? What she intends to trade, and with whom? After all, trade between pirate hideaways isn’t a viable method of turning a profit.”

“She won’t trade between pirates. She thinks fencing is beneath her.” You take a deep breath. It’s risky to even ask this from a Pirate Lord. “November intends to trade luxury goods within the New Continent. Reeds, Gerhair, the Equatorial states…All while posing as a trade ship from a legitimate country.”

“Ooh, risky.” Baiser purrs. “I’ll have to meet this November. This could be quite a profitable enterprise. No doubt you intend to spread some summoning rituals through her?”

“None so complete or safe as yours.” You share her grin. “Would you like to test them out?”

“Maybe later.” Baiser waves a paw dismissively. “I hope you don’t mind that we’ll be milking the summoned demons for more of those delectable aphrodisiacs.”

You laugh. Your lewd spawn would like nothing more than that.