Chapter 334- Mother’s Mouth as Sacrifice
She pushed.
Her finger, wet with the girl’s virgin slick, found the girl’s entrance. She pressed. Not breaking the hymen. Just sliding along the inner edge of the puffy lips, curling upward, pressing against the tight inner wall without tearing the barrier.
"MNGH—wait—"
The girl’s hips bucked.
"Shhh," the succubus whispered. "Let me teach you what your mother is feeling."
Across the tub, Cruxius pulled out of the mother’s anal.
The withdrawal was wet, obscene, thick white cum pouring from the gaping hole. He repositioned. His cockhead—slick with the seed of her rapists and his own pre-cum—pressed against her swollen pussy lips.
"No—"
He thrust in.
PAH—
"HAAAIYAANGH~~!!"
Her walls stretched around him. Raw. Battered. But still gripping, still clenching, still desperate. He drove deep. Five inches. Six. Seven. The head pressing against the top of her canal, finding the hard, tight barrier of her cervix.
He pulled back.
Then slammed down.
PAH—PAAAH—
"HAAAANGH—STOP—IT’S TOO DEEP—"
He grabbed her hips.
Both hands. Digging into the soft flesh. And he slammed again.
PAAAH—
The sound was wet and brutal. The head of his cock struck her cervix with the force of a battering ram. The tight little hole—the entrance to her womb that had stayed closed even after all those men, even after the double penetration, even after the abuse—cracked.
Broke.
Opened.
His cockhead popped through.
"HAAAAANGH—AAANGH—HAAAIYAANGH~~!!"
The mother’s scream was the sound of a body being rewired. Her back snapped into an arch so violent her head touched the water behind her, her enormous tits bouncing up and slapping her own chin, the milk spraying in thick jets. Her eyes rolled completely back, only the whites showing, her tongue hanging out, saliva dripping down her chin.
He was in her womb.
Nine inches. The full length buried in the deepest part of her, the head resting in the warm chamber of her belly, the shaft stretching every inch of her ruined channel.
The daughter heard the scream.
But the succubus’s finger was pressing exactly right, curling inside her virgin cunt without breaking her, hitting a spot that made her vision white out. She couldn’t turn. She couldn’t see. Her own tears and moans trapped her in her body.
"MNGH—AAH—HNN—"
Cruxius lifted her.
The mother. He stood in the tub, water cascading off his shoulders, and lifted her by her hips. Her thick body rose into the air, impaled on his cock, her legs dangling, her belly pressed against his, her tits hanging downward and swaying.
He laughed.
The low, warm, completely dominant sound of a man who had broken through and knew it.
"That," he said against her ear, his voice carrying over the sound of the water, "is what it means to fuck a woman like you. Fucking you hard. Fucking you deep. Fucking you until you forget every cock that came before mine."
PAH—PAAAH—PAAAH—
He began to thrust upward.
Lifting and dropping her, using her like a flesh sleeve, his hips driving upward with mechanical violence. The other women—Soha and the succubus—held her ass. Their hands pressing into the thick cheeks, guiding the bounce, making her body move in the rhythm he demanded.
The mother could only see her daughter through her tears.
The girl, lost in the succubus’s arms, moaning, unaware that her mother was being womb-fucked above the water.
"Why—" the mother gasped. "Why is my body—hnn—reacting—"
She squirted again.
The orgasm hit her like a seizure. Her pussy—wrapped around his cock, her cervix broken, her womb stuffed—clenched in violent, rhythmic pulses that milked his shaft.
The thick glob of seed from yesterday’s men, stored deep in her womb, rushed out around his cock. Mixed with her own juices. Fired downward in a thick, white, obscene stream that splashed into the bathwater.
Her tongue lolled back.
Against Soha’s shoulder—Soha who had moved closer, who was holding her from the side, pressing her pregnant belly against the mother’s arm. The mother’s head fell back, her mouth open, her tongue dragging across Soha’s wet skin, her eyes rolled completely up.
"Haaa—haa—hnn—"
Her whole body twitched.
Continuously. Uncontrollably. The aftershocks of a womb orgasm rippling through her thick frame.
Cruxius came.
His hips pressed fully upward, burying himself to the absolute root, his balls tight against her pussy lips. The load was thick. Endless. Pulse after pulse of hot, fresh cum flooding her womb, mixing with the residual seed of her rapists, filling her until the overflow poured out around his shaft and ran down his thighs in warm rivers.
He held her there.
Suspended. Impaled. Filled.
Finally, he exhaled.
"Congratulations," he said.
His voice was warm. Almost gentle.
"Your womb is clean now."
She trembled.
The thick woman looked down at her own pussy where it still floated in the milky water, the lips swollen and gaping, the cum of her rapists and her savior mixing in a thick white soup that poured out of her in continuous globs. Her body was limp. Completely. The bones had dissolved sometime after her cervix broke. She leaned against the edge of the tub, her enormous tits resting on the marble rim, her breath coming in shallow, broken gasps.
Soha held her.
The pregnant woman’s arms wrapped around the thick mother from behind, her dark nipples pressing against the mother’s back, her pregnant belly a warm dome against the mother’s spine. She was the only thing keeping the mother from sinking under the water.
Cruxius stepped forward.
His cock hung heavy between his thighs—still nine inches, still hard, the crimson head flushed and dripping the last remnants of his load into the bath. He moved toward the daughter.
The girl sat where the succubus had left her, her small body trembling in the shallow water, her virgin pussy still leaking from the orgasm the demon had forced from her. Her dark eyes were wide, fixed on his face, on his shoulders, on the cock that had just destroyed her mother.
He reached for her.
"No—" The mother’s voice cracked. She thrashed against Soha’s grip, her thick body jerking, water splashing. "Not my daughter. Leave her. Please. Leave her alone."
Cruxius stopped.
He turned his head. Looked at the mother over his shoulder. His expression was flat. Direct.
"Do you want her," he said, "to lose her virginity to those bastards instead of me?"
The mother froze.
Her mouth opened. Closed. Her dark eyes moved to the door—the direction the dead men had come from. The direction Vekar would return. She thought of the cage. Of the morning. Of the cocks that had filled every hole while her daughter watched.
She trembled.
"No," she whispered. Her voice was barely audible. "Don’t hurt her. Please. Don’t—"
He sighed.
The sound was warm, exasperated, carrying the weight of a man who had offered a solution and was being met with resistance.
He approached her.
His hips broke the surface of the water as he waded through the tub, his abs visible, his cock swaying with each step. He stopped in front of the mother where she leaned against the rim. He grabbed his shaft.
"Suck it," he said.
He pressed the head against her lips.
The swollen, cum-slicked crown, still dripping with the mixed seed of her womb and his own. He pushed forward.
Her mouth opened.
Not willingly—automatically, the reflex of a woman who had been trained by twelve hours of cocks. The head slid past her lips, over her tongue, pressing toward the back of her throat.
"If you don’t want me to fuck her," he said, his voice even as he threaded his fingers through her wet hair, "then you have to keep me busy. Understand?"