517: To the Party (18+)
“Hold on, Remi—ghuh—!” Pete got shoved to the side before he could get two steps into the giant cell full of horny-out-of-their-minds men, women, and beastkin.
Zeke, Donald, and Ivan, all ran over Pete, Ivan even stepped on Pete’s back with his giant steel boot, sending a particularly nasty and sharp jolt of pain through Pete’s back.
“Take the key from the naïve fool!” Zeke shouted back to Donald and Ivan while he himself undid the straps on his armor and ran to the big-tittiest big-titty female in heat he could find.
“Sorry, lad, nothing personal,” Ivan told Pete as he tore off the keychain from Pete’s trousers and then got up to join the festivities.
Few of the inmates even noticed the intruders. How could they when all their attention was on the respective dicks and pussies they gave to and received from each other? One tanned, skinny girl noticed the fresh dicks ripe for sucking. Her current partner had finally run dry and was now only spurting air and cum dust, however, two tigerkin brothers pinned the tanned lass down before she got anywhere close to the new arrivals. Moments later her mouth and pussy were already spoken for, and soon enough she’d get knotted for good measure.
“FINALLY!!” Zeke screamed with ecstatic joy and plunged face-first into two mountains of love and joy.
The two objects of Zeke’s desire were bigger than watermelons and squashier than jelly, and Zeke went “brrrrr” as he whirled in their softness, overjoyed like a kid on Christmas.
“Ahhh, I always wanted to do this!” Donald all but purred as he rubbed himself against a cheetahkin’s slim, furry, well-groomed body.
Natasha was not just any cheetahkin. A B-rank in the S.E.C.R.E.T. Guild, she was quite popular among those who grew tired or were never interested in the shaved, silky-skinned human girls of the Guild. Her breasts may have had more hair than any human male ever managed to sport on his chest, but Donald didn’t mind. He preferred it. And not many could fault him. Natasha always took good care of her fur. Not a single hair on Natasha’s body was ever coarse or out of place. Never too long, never too short, just the right cut to accentuate her female forms. Darker shades of orange on her back, head, and upper face, lighter on the sides, dotted black, and a snow-white neck and belly.
Donald didn’t even penetrate. He just kept rubbing his body and cock against Natasha’s coat so pleasant that it made Donald tingle.
“U-ugh,” Pete groaned as he tried to get himself back up, though his body refused to obey. “R-Remi?”
Pete looked around for the love of his life in the torchlit dimness that hung over the cell orgy. Lights from the torches danced and reflected off the sweaty bodies of the Tainted victims of the Demon Corruption as well as off the willing and eager participants. Pete clenched his fists in anger when he saw Zeke and Donald, realizing that he was shamelessly used by them.
As Pete looked for Remi he also saw Ivan—engaged in depravities too sick to describe in the tongues of men. Pete threw up on the spot. Through the stomach-churning sickness and disgust, Pete hoped, at least, to throw up those images that were already burned into his eyes and brain. Alas, Pete would carry that horrific memory until the day he died.
“U… Uuuu~” Pete broke down in tears. How could his life go so wrong so fast? Even when he closed his eyes to wipe away the tears, he saw that forsaken image of Ivan: grinning like a demon, copulating worse than one.
In a moment of utter anguish, Pete reached for his sword. His mind filled with fantasies of bloody vengeance. As bloody as possible, as violent as possible. Maybe that would overwrite the mental scarring he received?
Yes! Pete grinned. Paint over it! Paint it red! Paint it with their blood and guts!
Before Pete knew it, he was on his feet already. His bloodthirst fueled him, gave him the strength needed to rise to his feet, the strength to act. Pete clenched the hilt of his sword with both hands so hard that he started bleeding. Pete found out that he liked that pain. And he had a feeling that he might just like to spread the pain even more.