Chapter 2 - Chapter #9 Much More Brutal Sex R18 NSFW, Gore, Snuff,

Slamming open a random door revealed a large bed draped in black silk sheets, the frame heavy and sturdy enough to take real abuse. Perfect for what I was about to do to my new pet. I discarded every scrap of clothing into my inventory so I matched Vera's nakedness. Two busty, bare women standing in the middle of the room—anyone walking in would have gotten an instant nosebleed. With my strength stat, tossing Vera onto the bed was effortless. She bounced hard, those massive tits exploding upward in a heavy, liquid jiggle like Jell-O in an earthquake. Absolute perfection. I pounced, slamming my already dripping cunt down onto hers so our soaked folds smashed together in a filthy, scorching grind. Both hands sank deep into her tits, mauling and kneading them like dough—squeezing brutally, rolling the heavy flesh, pinching and twisting her thick nipples until they stood dark and stiff. "Oh my god," I groaned. "I thought my own tits were perfection, but playing with someone else's is always better. Your pussy-licking skills were fantastic earlier… but you can always use more practice." I spun around and dropped my perfect, dripping cunt straight onto her face, smothering her completely. No gentleness. I grabbed her head with both hands, fingers tangled in her hair, and started properly face-fucking her—hips snapping down in rough, wet slaps, grinding my clit hard against her nose and mouth, forcing my folds to seal over her so she had nowhere to go. "That's it—take it. Fucking drown in it." I rode her face like I hated her. Every orgasm hit harder than the last. The first time I gushed, I held her under until her thrashing slowed and she went limp, lungs full of girlcum. I kept grinding on her dead face for another half-minute, moaning at how still and perfect she was, then casually used my resurrection magic. Blue light flickered. Vera gasped back to life beneath me, eyes glassy with reverence even as she choked up the cum I had drowned her in. I immediately slammed back down and did it again. By the fourth or fifth death she was a mess—face swollen, glazed, lips bruised. One particularly vicious orgasm made my thighs clamp like a vice around her head. I felt the wet crack of her neck breaking under the pressure while I squirted helplessly across her dead features. The sudden limpness only made me cum harder. I ground on the corpse for a while longer, then resurrected her again with a lazy flick of magic. She came back moaning, tongue already trying to please me even as her neck realigned. (2 Hours Later) I was in pure heaven. Vera had died for me at least six or seven times already—drowned in cum, neck snapped by my climaxing thighs, face turned into a ruined, dripping toy. Each resurrection only made her more devoted. When I finally decided she deserved a little "pleasure" too, I didn't bother with my mouth. I shapeshifted a thick, heavy cock into existence between my legs. Twelve fat inches, veined and already rock-hard. I'm not that familiar with cocks… but the raw pleasure that ripped through me when I lined up and rammed every inch into her tight, slick pussy in one brutal thrust was fantastic. I lost myself completely. I fucked her like I was trying to break her in half—hips pistoning with inhuman strength and speed, the bed slamming against the wall. Her stomach bulged obscenely with every thrust. Then I went deeper. Harder. The flared head punched past her cervix, through softer tissue, and I felt the sudden, exquisite resistance of her ribcage. I laughed in pure lust and kept slamming forward until the thick cock forced its way up between her ribs. There—right there—I felt it. The frantic, panicked beating of her heart directly against the tip of my dick. Hot. Wet. Alive. Pulsing around the head like it was trying to milk me. "Ohhh fuck yes…" I moaned, grinding deeper so her heart hammered against my cock. The sensation was pure euphoria. I fucked her ribs open with short, vicious strokes, feeling that beautiful organ flutter and stutter against me. Her eyes went wide, then empty. Her heart gave one last desperate thrash against my dick… and stopped. I came the second she died, pumping thick ropes straight into her chest cavity while her corpse twitched around me. The stillness, the way her body had become nothing but a warm, tight sleeve for my cock, made the orgasm tear through me even harder. I stayed buried there for a long moment, savoring the feeling, then casually resurrected her again. The moment her heart restarted it hammered wildly against my still-buried cock. I groaned and started fucking her to death all over again. I lost track of how many times I killed her like that—heart beating against my dick until it gave out, resurrection, repeat—before I finally buried myself to the hilt one last time, flooded her, and collapsed forward onto those massive breasts, using them as pillows while I caught my breath. My cock stayed locked inside her. (7 Hours Later) "Ungggh…" "Ohhh… hhnnn—" Broken sounds dragged me out of sleep. I pushed my hands down to sit up and immediately sank into large, soft-skinned pillows that sucked my fingers in like warm quicksand. Vera's face was twisted in a pure O mixed with distress. Then my eyes dropped lower—and almost bulged. The cock I had left buried inside her had changed while I slept. Apparently I'd dreamed of something bigger. Something horse-like. Her stomach was obscenely bulged; I could clearly see the thick outline pushing her belly up from the inside. The tip had become distinctly equine—flared and heavy—and the shaft was at least six inches thick. She was literally hanging off my cock. I stood. Instead of retracting, I decided to keep her exactly where she was. I walked. Vera's head, arms, and legs hung completely limp, dragging across the floor with soft, wet, annoying sounds as I moved. Her body swayed and bounced with every step, impaled to the hilt on my monstrous horse cock like a living cockwarmer. The tight, overstretched heat of her cunt still clenched weakly around the thick shaft. Deep inside, the flared tip rested right against her heart again. If I couldn't feel that steady (sometimes frantic) beating against the head of my cock, I would have sworn she was dead. Not that it mattered if she died. I had already proven I could bring her back as many times as I wanted. But those dangling limbs were getting in the fucking way—slapping against my legs, catching on the floor, ruining the clean sway of my personal onahole. I stopped mid-hallway, clicked my tongue, and decided to fix it. With a casual surge of magic and raw strength I simply tore her arms and legs off at the sockets. Wet rips, sprays of blood, the heavy thuds of discarded limbs hitting the floor. Vera's truncated torso jerked once on my cock; her heart stuttered against the flared tip. I resurrected her instantly so she wouldn't go into shock and ruin the tightness. Blue light sealed the stumps smooth and clean. No arms. No legs. Just a soft, busty, head-and-torso fucksleeve permanently skewered on my dick. "There," I murmured, giving the limbless body a satisfied bounce. "Now you're a proper living onahole." I wasn't finished. Another pulse of succubus magic rewrote her insides on the fly. Her throat, guts, and cunt became one continuous, ridged, rippling tunnel. I gripped what was left of her hips, lifted her slightly, and slammed her down hard. My massive horse cock punched straight through her body in one brutal stroke—entering her stretched cunt, sliding up through her belly and chest (heart fluttering wildly against the shaft the entire way), and punching out of her mouth in a thick, spit-and-cum-slicked flare. Her eyes bulged; her tongue was forced to the side as the huge equine head and several inches of shaft emerged from between her lips. She gagged wetly around it, drool and earlier cum pouring down her chin, but the magically altered tunnel clenched and massaged along every inch like it had been made for this. Perfect. I started walking again, naked, handling minor tasks while my personal cockwarmer hung impaled and mindlessly milking me. The wet gluck-gluck of her throat around the exiting shaft, the constant squeeze of her rewritten guts, the way her huge tits framed the bulging outline of my dick inside her—it was heaven. Until those gigantic tits became a problem. Every step made them swing and slap heavily against my shins and knees, soft and warm and distracting in the wrong way. Bounce. Slap. Bounce. Slap. As much as I loved my limbless cockwarmer, the oversized melons were getting annoying. I sighed, stopped, and unleashed another surge of magic. Vera's body convulsed on my cock as I shrunk and rewrote her completely. In seconds the truncated bimbo thrall compressed down to only about two feet tall. Bones, organs, and skin turned fully elastic—stretchy, durable, and impossibly pliant like living rubber. I gave her a firm shove down my shaft. Her tiny elastic body stretched obscenely, spreading thinner and thinner until she was pulled taut over the full monstrous length and girth of my horse cock. The flared head still punched out through what had been her mouth, but now her entire form was nothing more than a tight, glossy, flesh-colored sheath. If you weren't specifically looking for the faint outline of a stretched face, the tiny sealed stumps, or the subtle swelling where her heart still beat, she just looked like a second skin. A warm, wet, living condom wrapped perfectly around my dick. I could still feel everything. The rapid, panicked hammering of her heart directly against the thick meat. The reflexive rippling and massaging of her elastic insides trying desperately to milk me. The soft, almost imperceptible twitches when she died from the overstimulation and I casually resurrected her again without breaking stride. But visually? She had become nearly invisible. Just an extra layer of hot, silky tightness I might actually forget I was wearing. I smirked and kept walking, completely naked, cock swaying heavily with its new living condom sheath. I handled system notices, checked a few rooms, even paused to read a map on a wall—all while Vera's microscopic, stretched-out body continued its mindless job. Every so often her heartbeat would stutter and stop against me; I'd resurrect her with a thought, feel that delicious organ slam back to life and flutter wildly, then go back to whatever I was doing. The sensation was so constant, so perfect, that more than once I genuinely forgot she was there until a stronger clench or a dying flutter reminded me I was still wearing my favorite fucksleeve. Only when I finally felt like it did I stop, enjoy one last deep throb that made her elastic heart thrash until it gave out again, resurrect her once more, then slowly peel the living condom off my cock with a long, filthy, glistening slide. What remained was a tiny, panting, two-foot-tall elastic onahole, still shaped like a stretched sheath. I tossed her onto the ruined silk bed for later and summoned my clothes. Soft silk settled over my skin as I walked out, already knowing I would probably slip her back on the next time I wanted discreet, continuous pleasure I could literally forget was happening.