The tan beauties with unbelievable bodies exuding sexual fertility were swarming his entire body, their hands all reaching for a grasp of the shaft of his cock, and of the hallowed black pigmented powder sitting on top of his penis, each trying to direct the penis towards a different part of her body to paint a ceremonial war stripe or something of the like. Devon felt the night meld all into one, the sensation of soft hands and supple breasts on his cock like there was no tomorrow…
“Wow, it’s so hard!” a younger amazonian said. “You can’t even bend it!”
“And the girth and width are quite substantial too,” another female villager commented. “What a well shaped painting instrument!”
“I want to touch it too!”
“Ohmigod, it’s so squishy!”
He was so tired that he could barely even move, and so the female canvases had to paint themselves at this point. But his cock remained stiff as ever, stiff as a rock, because of that blasted vitality nut that he had consumed earlier. He ended up shooting several shots all over the mass of tan bodies, all amidst a gaggle of chattering and jovial clamor.
His balls emptied so much semen onto the girls that Devon felt like he was going to shrivel up into a prune. But the more semen he dumped out, the more that strange vitality nut replenished his stores. Until even that magical replenishing nut was depleted.
Now, Devon felt as gaunt as he did in the dust storm.
…
He fell asleep during the festivities. Passed out, more like, due to lack of semen.
-----
“Beast!” Hecate shouted, her voice thundering through the mountain canyon. The lone woman in high heels and a tattered black office skirt spoke with a booming feminine magically infused voice, like the female god of witchcraft that she was. “Who sent you here?” Her getup showed signs of battle damage, claw marks and other strange rippings in her clothes. In her hand was a red devil’s tail whip, her signature weapon. Her skin was almost fully peachy-purple now, showing that she had reverted to much of her godlike state from her preferred human state.
Facing her, battered and bruised with several whip-like lacerations on its torso and legs, grasping the edge of the mountain like a dragon perched on its lair, was the behemoth. He snarled, looking more dangerous than before when he was being chased by Hecate across the entire mortal world. After all, a cornered animal was most dangerous, and behemoths were considered beasts of war against the gods with ample magical power of their own. They were not a species to be trifled with, not even for a god.
“The one true King of the underworld,” he replied cryptically. “He is coming for you, all of you. And he will have power that you have never seen before.”
Hecate crossed her arms. The one true king…
There was an ancient myth that one day the one true king would come back to claim his throne in the underworld. Hecate asked her manager about it, thinking that Hades may have been the one true king, but he never gave her back a straight answer.
Either way, the list of suspects was narrowed down to thirteen clan leaders and a few others by the mere presence of the Behemoth. Only clan leaders or individuals of equivalent strength could ever hope to issue commands to a beast the caliber of a Behemoth.
“Who is your master? Beatrice? Abraxas?” Hecate thundered.
“I have nothing more to say to you,” the Behemoth replied. A portal appeared behind the Behemoth, and it backed away into the tear in space, before winking out of existence.
But from the nature of the magical circles powering the portal, Hecate recognized that it was an intra-realm portal. A portal that could only transport within the same world. The behemoth was still here on this world, but somewhere inaccessible to her now.
She scowled. If it wanted to hide, she could find it eventually but it would take a great deal of effort and time that she simply could not bother to spare. For now, her priority was to locate and contact Devon, and then contact her manager. Tch. With her interdimensional power limited at the moment, she couldn’t even get in touch with Hades to report the circumstances. Nothing was ever easy around here, was it?
------
“Hey, it’s time to get up,” a familiar amazonian female voice said.
Devon woke up completely hammered, a pulsing headache to greet him bright and early in the morning. He was in a tribal medical bed, with several healing salves and cooling leaves on his face, which he peeled off carefully.
“The dwarves have disappeared,” the voice continued. It was Vesta, still donned in her triangular war paint on her cheeks and an absolutely stunning honey-kissed body.
“Huh?” Devon replied.
“They never disappear like this,” she continued, tucking arrows into her quiver. “Something is terribly wrong. You can fight, right? Come with us today. We need to find out what happened.”
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poor devon
, this womans almost torture him don´t you?