Belphegor's Apostle 1.
“Haaah! Hngh!”
The white tutu girl's body shuddered violently. My cock plunged deep into her pussy, arching her back like a bow. Her walls clamped down on me like a bear trap, squeezing my glans tight—the slick, gummy wetness amplified the pleasure, doubling it with that teasing delay.
“Fuck… this is insane. Squeezes like a vice.”
Her insides were hot and drenched. It reminded me of that tiny anal walker O Nangryun kept at home like a treasure. The same pinching bliss as that little dildo, recreated perfectly.
The pink tutu girl flashed a satisfied smile as my cock fully sheathed inside the white one's pussy. She grabbed the white girl's ass with both hands and started rocking it back and forth. The white girl was lost in ecstasy, mind gone—her body moved only by the pink one's grip, slamming her ass onto my cock, then pulling back, over and over. Their tag-team assault redefined pleasure in my brain.
“Hngh! Haah! Hngh!”
Moans leaked from the white girl's lips nonstop. Her whole body quivered, barely able to voice them. Tense like she'd been electrocuted, muscles locked except for that relentless squeeze. Her tiny frame, soaked in bliss, existed only to clench now. And the pink girl orchestrated it all, gripping that ass, pistoning it to milk my cock. Wet schlick-schlick sounds echoed from inside.
“Whoa… fuck…”
Clusters of capillaries must've burst in my head from the ecstasy. At this level, dying happy wouldn't be so bad. Ejaculation loomed. I barely held back, hauling the white girl upright. She was a ballerina, after all—time for a one-legged I-stance fuck.
I straightened her torso mid-thrust and lifted one leg high.
Tension surged into her toes, her pussy clamping harder. Ballerina pride, squeezing out her last strength.
“Fuck… yeah, that's it.”
I couldn't hold back—unloaded straight into her womb. Spurt-spurt-splurt!!
“Hngh… haaahng…”
Soft. Wet. Soft. Wet.
The pink girl's tongue lapped at the white girl's clit where it met my cock, slurping up the leaking cum like soup.
“Haaaah! Hngh! Haaaaah!”
The white girl's moans peaked. Her body convulsed wildly. Her pussy hit its limit, crushing my cock with insane contractions. Mid-spurt, the gummy pressure stalled it, so when I thrust, her pink insides tugged out with it. Slurp-slurp sounds accompanied a gush of her juices.
“Hngh! Haaaah!”
Her body went rigid, then limp. Legs gave out; she couldn't hold herself up. She crumpled slowly to the floor. As my cock slipped free, it sprayed cum like a fountain into the air. Splurt-splurt-spluuurt!
The fallen white girl's back heaved dramatically. The pink girl pounced without missing a beat, kneeling before my cock.
“Haam!”
She engulfed it, tongue cleaning off cum and the white girl's juices with plush laps. Slurp… chuup… slurp… Lewd sounds leaked from her mouth. Electric tingles shot through me with every lick. Still rock-hard post-nut.
She sucked while shoving me down onto the floor. Cowgirl position, apparently. She straddled me, pussy hovering over my cock. Slowly, she sank down. Slight resistance—then a pop inside, sliding in smooth.
“Hngh! Hngh!”
Her body trembled as she moaned. Fully impaled, she froze, adjusting to my size. Virgin pussy, after all—needed time. Hot, wet inside. Her walls clenched and released rhythmically.
“Hngh! Hngh! Hngh!”
Her moans grew louder, hips speeding up. Up and down, squeezing tight each time. Schlick-schlick inside. Unlike the white girl, she wasn't some fragile type to pass out. Aggressive thrusts, hip circles—hard to believe she was a virgin. No virgin moves like this. But the number above her head proved it.
“Hey… you were a virgin?”
My shout didn't faze her; she rode like a pro whore. “Haaang~ Haht~! Haaa~♥” Hips whipped reverse-cowgirl style. Staring at the ceiling, she wailed uncontrollably. Her flat belly bulged like my cock would punch through.
“Nngiiiit!!!”
The pink girl bouncing on me was a pleasure fairy. Overwhelmed, I flooded her depths. Splurt. Splurt. Womb bloated full. Her belly swelled pregnancy-like. Visual ecstasy. Still rigid post-nut. Her thin lower abs embossed the outline of my glans, bulge-bulge.
“Whoa… hope her belly doesn't burst?”
Womb neck pushed up, glans shape visible. Visual violence. Visual bliss. Cum seeped out with sizzle-sizzle cracks through the pleasure haze.
“Haaaah! Hngh! Haaaah!”
Pink girl's eyes rolled back, whites dominating—ahegao not performative, but total human collapse. “Fuuuueeen~!” Passed out impaled. Like a wind-dancing balloon figure at a new pub, flailing limp on my cock. Satisfied.
The ballerinas lay wrecked, minds blank. Wanted more, but that watched feeling lingered. These girls were a trap. Just not sure what kind yet.
“Grateful trap, though.”
I pulled up pants and panties, glancing up the stairs. Instinct screamed the trap-setter lurked above.
Han Areum's doing? Or Manager U Mi-young? I shook my head. They couldn't puppet shells like this.
Slow steps up the marble stairs.
Up the stairs, an open door revealed a bed. High pillows made the occupant obvious: Han Areum, eyes closed in sleep.
Rage boiled seeing the numbers above her head.
They'd skyrocketed. I always tracked them.
“Fuck…”
Knowing she'd been whored out to other men made my blood boil. Unbearable fury.
“Knew I hate NTR… U Mi-young did this on purpose?”
I'd pitied her; bigger betrayal now.
“Ha… fuck. Manager U Mi-young nailed the first quest. Pissed me right off.”
My mutter stirred her. Han Areum's eyes fluttered open. She rose slowly. Silk nightgown clung to her explosive curves. Swish, swish. She shed it like snakeskin en route.
No need to play shell anymore.
“You got duped by U Mi-young too, dumb bitch.”
Her face pale, dark circles heavy. Empty eyes fixed on me, emotionless. They twitched at my voice—no expression.
“What the hell? What's with you?”
She approached, stripping piece by piece. “Haaaang~” Excited, she unzipped me, freeing my hard cock. Kneeling, familiar strokes on the glans.
“Mmmph!” Lips parted, she sucked fiercely.
…Han Areum was dead. The one sucking me wasn't a survivor anymore. Just a shell holding memories of our fucks.
“U Mi-young… I warned you not to kill her…”
Neck ached with rage. She confirmed my erection, switched poses. Back to me, bending forward, ass out in doggy. Soaked pussy took me to the cervix in one go. Pure cocksleeve service. She pressed back, hips still, pure pleasure. Plump ass, cinched waist… S-line spine to tailbone, flawless back view. Compared to the ballerinas, she was a masterpiece.
Her walls danced, pussy clenched. Glans obeyed instinct; balls craved breeding. Splurt-splurt. Grabbed her waist, creampied her womb. Creampie count up one.
Too perfect to shell-ify. I caressed her gravity-sagging tits softly. Cock still wedged in her womb, rigid. Her backward glance—long lashes fluttering, radiant smile. Ultimate beauty.
Then her outer lips clamped like a vise. She gripped my cock and crawled forward on all fours. I had to shuffle after, heart-straining technique. Like when Choi Seo-ah (Retriever) dragged me to eat while plugged.
She led to the bedroom bed. Smiling seductively atop me. Bewitching allure as she mounted, licking my neck, collarbone, nipples with finger teases. Hand guided cock back in. Chuup! Schlop-schlop. Sex resumed.
Chill exploded. Countless threads tethered her body—head, arms, fingers, elbows, feet, back… even pussy. Marionette on strings. So many on her hair, it blended in.
Creepy, but I chuckled.
Then Han Areum clenched hard, collapsing forward. Her arms and legs pinned mine—like a human straitjacket.
“What… the fuck? What's this?”
I feigned panic. Could shake her off easy, but watched. Draw out the puppeteer. Jejeop confirmed: Belphegor's apostle.
“Heh heh heh. How's my trap feel, dumb fuck? You're my puppet now.”
The voice from the strings' end shocked me. Thin threads from Han Areum's body linked to her hand.
“Dumbstruck, huh? Pisses you off, right?”
“Ha… Han Areum?”
Two Han Areums.