The Master of the Succubus Mage Tower
The banquet hall of the Succubus Mage Tower's master, once roaring with frenzied pussy-fucking, had fallen eerily silent. Gloria—the star of the mad revelry, the plaything, the masochistic sow—lay limp and spent. Samiel prepared to move. No matter how they tried to justify covering Gloria's face, the orgy of insanity couldn't be stopped. The participants were dying to see her face. The woman who seemed born of noble blood. The one with a body like the basest bitch in heat. The sow leaking translucent fluids from her asshole and pussy. The cow-like female publicly displaying her genitals, swollen red and puffy from every kind of stimulation and torment. Some of the guests were already eyeing her hungrily. Her curvaceous, feminine flesh remained intact, unmarred. Everyone swallowed hard as they stared. Of course they did. This woman held the highest value in the kingdom.
Samiel gently set down her glass and smiled. If she didn't rescue Gloria now, that face would be unveiled to the entire hall. Once they revealed it and started invoking her family and lineage to continue the feast, they'd be in for a shock. What reactions would they have? Horror? Fear? Disdain? Arousal? Whatever it was, it wouldn't satisfy Gloria. The hall's madness was still too tame. Their rage toward her was insufficient. Their hatred fell short. Samiel melted into the shadows, extinguishing the hall's flames one by one. For the kingdom's greatest thief, it was child's play.
"What the—?!"
As the lights went out, the ringmaster in clown makeup—who'd been tormenting Gloria to his heart's content—let out a panicked yelp. The crowd seemed to take it as some new spectacle, so no major uproar ensued. Samiel ghosted up behind the clown, clamped a hand over his mouth, and drove her dagger in. Crunch, crackle. She savored the feel of slicing flesh, shredding veins, snapping vertebrae, and grinned. A death or two would stir up far more buzz than none at all. Though truthfully, it was more her personal grudge. —I hate clowns.
He crumpled in a heap, and Samiel struck the jaws and vitals of the nearby humans—the clown's underlings who'd tortured Gloria. The successive thuds of bodies hitting the floor were drowned out by the revelry's din; no one but Gloria and Samiel noticed. It took less than ten seconds to douse the lights and seize the hall's center.
Samiel approached Gloria, fixed in her ridiculous pose, and said, "Princess. Playtime's over."
"..............Already?"
Gloria's voice was hoarse from endless shrieks of raw agony. Her asshole and pussy were inflamed and swollen, the skin so taut it could split and bleed at any moment. Her body, slick with parasitic fluids, was covered in hives, the whip marks atop them livid scars. And there, adorning her womb, gleamed a golden tattoo.
Tattoos were usually inked by whores to brand themselves, to hide scars, or by brothel owners and warriors to flaunt their toughness. But Gloria's was different. The mark on her belly read "Female Livestock"—a fusion of the breeding sow's brand and the milk cow's stamp.
"This.........is.........truly.............horrific."
The mark of a sow, a cow. A symbol that stripped away any pretense of humanity, fit only for the brainless, lust-addled dregs. Unthinkable for the kingdom's princess. A disgrace she'd never live down, even in death.
Samiel hadn't noticed from afar when they inked it, but up close, the impact hit differently. To think this was truly the kingdom's princess... She suppressed a surge of inexplicable emotion. But this alone wouldn't bring Gloria the ruin she craved. Yet if these depraved antics and her wicked deeds piled up... they'd return as the grand karma she truly yearned for.
"You've taken another step toward the abyss."
Samiel unbound Gloria's restraints and pulled out the escape device she'd prepared. Hell. Endless cycles of regeneration and destruction inevitably blurred one's sense of self. That was Alisa right now────. Same as me.
I was pinned to the ground, only able to blink. Dozens, hundreds of maggots crawled around me. Some of the fist-sized larvae had grown into massive adults. I'd thought this hatchery would fill up with them, but observing their lifecycle shocked me. They devoured each other to feed, or burrowed into the perforated flesh-walls to become material for new "walls." Imps periodically came to harvest them. Thus, the Succubus Mage Tower, hell's outpost, steadily expanded and rebuilt itself.
"..............."
I'd just given birth, and trying magic to escape yielded nothing—my mana-depleted body was powerless. Freshly regenerated, I was fully human again. A human body was far too fragile for maggot birthing. The breeding cycle would restart: laying eggs in this hatchery, draining what little mana and life force I had left. Unbearable agony, inimitable mating horrors, over and over.
"..............."
The original dam-maggot that tormented me was gone. Others came in rotation now. Each new layer's varying traits, experience, and birthing skills made adaptation impossible. Some overfilled me till my belly burst. Others suffocated me without respite, foaming at the mouth. I'd endured such hellish half-deaths. Rib-cracking, chest-ripping thrusts were routine. I incubated eggs, fulfilling my duty as hatchery. And as long as I existed here, that duty persisted.
In this den of vulgar breaths and crawling vermin, I steeled myself. I had to escape. I craved more, diverse experiences. With the goddesses' blessings, I could break free—but the concrete-hard mucus showed no cracks.
"Ughhhhaaah....... Aaaah....! Not yet. Not yettt..............♥"
I couldn't escape. I writhed my back and hips. Only obscene squelches from my sweat- and fluid-slick skin peeling off the flesh-wall. Sticky, filthy. And even now, sweat poured from me. Thump. Thump. Thump. My heartbeat drowned everything else. Over a month here, yet the imps hadn't extracted me. Despite the span that should've reduced me to ragged scraps. I didn't want decades in this pit. Shoving down the chilling thought, I racked my brain for escape. Nothing came. Had the larvae sucked all nutrients from my mind too?
Time slipped away meaninglessly as I dazedly watched a massive maggot shadow approach. My value as hatchery seemed immense—no real breaks. Mere minutes post-birth were my only respite. A complete maggot whore. No, "whore" was too generous. Public hatchery for hell's birthing pens and granary.
This one's slimy type, it seemed—it lunged for a "kiss" first. ─Precisely, injecting anesthetics and mucus. But as it shoved its face to mine, chaos erupted from the granary's far end.
Crack! The flesh-wall door split open. Footsteps multiplied, and an ominous aura closed in.
".........No way."
I couldn't turn to check. But something approached. The maggot recoiled in fear. Fluttering wings drew near—not the imps' or eye-beasts' silent flaps. Alien sounds, laced with eerie curse-magic in every beat.
Soon, he loomed behind me.
Melt. ─He commanded.
The instant I registered it, change struck. The mucus binding my limbs began to dissolve.
"Guh?! Guuaaaahhh!!! A!♥ Aaah!!♥"
It didn't stop there—my limbs melted like cream. As if in super-acid, their shapes vanished in seconds. My pale arm-skin sloughed off, spilling crimson blood and yellowish protein sludge. White bone gleamed through dissolving flesh, then liquefied too. The white pus mingled with gore, forming a bizarre puddle. The surreal sight overwhelmed me briefly. Was this the Succubus Mage Tower's master? His words carried power.
My long, elegant calves were already gooey mush. Even my thigh-ends partially melted, sagging flesh slapping wetly to the floor. Nearby maggots slurped the stew-like remnants.
"A..........♥ Aaah♥..........."
Imps hoisted my speechless, pain-shocked form. Goblin-sized but strong as oxen, they lifted me—shortened limbs dangling—and I faced the anomaly’s source. I gasped.
"...Eek?!"
The most nightmarish human face imaginable stared back. Towering at least 3 meters, skeletal-thin, every facial orifice oozing blood. Skeleton-like, yet shriveled flesh clung to bone. Twisted horns sprouted from his skull. His emaciated face contrasted a steel-hard body, arms splitting into tentacles at the ends. A skull-shell encasing horrific meat, infested with parasites.
He regarded me with an inscrutable expression. Hell-beast eyes drifted to my melted lower body—to my womb. Anticipating his next move, I blurted,
"W-Wait......!"
His arm-tentacle plunged into my pussy. Length-adjusting, it forced my cervix wide. A chill gripped me at the invasion of my womb's depths—woman's most sacred core, toward my ovaries. I let out a bitter laugh.
"Ha.......Hah♥"
I had no idea what depravities awaited. But the pleasure-pain show rolled on.