Chapter 725: In the Shadow of the Guild
It was only in that split moment of the two cat girls changing position that Beatrice realized something. The two cat girls had two cum-stained cocks flopping about as they readjusted to relish in the white nectar. And what they lacked was a pussy. By the strictest definition, as sexy and feminine as they were, these two were not in fact cat girls.
Still cute though, Beatrice couldn’t help but smile as she watched the two cat boys relish in her cock nectar that slowly flowed from their depths. The wet feminine faces with long black eyelashes which were now obsessed with her cum. Beatrice still recalled how she made them roll their eyes in ecstasy as she milked their dicks and made moan as they stained each themselves with their cum.
The lack of a female’s pussy was the only distinction Beatrice could make. They moaned like girls, they ate cum like girls, they orgasmed like girls, and they craved to be bred like girls. And if Beatrice had all the time in the world, she would give them just that.
Alas, looking up at the darkening sky, Beatrice realized that it must have been already not long before sunset and last time she had some wits about her it was still early morning.
How long did I…? Too long, the answer was obvious. Looking around her Beatrice realized that her dick growing cum spore scheme worked too well and went completely out of control. The entire city was drowning in cocks, cum, and a chorus of moans.
“Welcome to the S.E.C.R.E.T.!” Beatrice quietly read one of the signs. It appeared that even through her sex crazed mind fog, she still managed to collect some wits to slowly move in the direction of her goal: the district where the S.E.C.R.E.T. Guild was located.
The S.E.C.R.E.T. Guild, the Purple Capes, and the Royal Palace… Beatrice recounted in her head the allegiance that effectively ran the city and actively supported many of the city’s darkest indulgencies, including the Forge of Champions, where thousands celebrated sex, violence, and murder. An unholy triumvirate.
Even though it appeared that not every single participant of this allegiance knew of the royal family’s darkest secrets—as was demonstrated by the remaining captain of the defunct Purple Capes—Beatrice could not find the will to care to sort out who was aligned with demons and who wasn’t. The promotion of those games was abhorrent enough. And attempts to explain the true nature of the Queen and her daughters fell on deaf ears. The citizens were all too happy to brand Beatrice as a demon.
Beatrice looked around at the sea of flesh, lost to hedonistic pleasures. Alcohol, drugs, and sex. That was all they cared about. The royal family barely had to do anything. Beatrice barely had to do anything for the city to lose themselves. Beatrice looked at the two femboy catkin who were glued to each other. They didn’t appear evil. They just didn’t care. Willful ignorance, at best.