Oil and Promethium
Chapter Three v0.44
Tags: daemonette x Sister, futa, standing sex from behind, corruption, sisters x Saint, double oral
 
Chapter Three Synopsis: Syberia loses herself to the raw passion of Kallisto. St. Cybele enjoys the kinky desires of Weylan and Aethas. 
 

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        “Hnngh!” Syberia grunted at the sudden invasion of her raw gash from behind. She arched her back upward, mouth hanging open as her brow furrowed from the surprise carnal sensation. “No, h-hold on,” she whined, reaching back to grab onto the daemonette’s wrists, ineffectually trying to budge them from her hips. Heedless of her words, Kallisto grinned and pushed all the way inside, enjoying her new freedom to move her arms and legs. She ran her pink fingers over the flesh of the squirming girl in front of her, feeling the smooth softness of her tanned skin, the immaculate shape of her curves, her wide hips, her round, taut ass, and her lithe back. She was beautiful. Nubile. Ready to bear countless children. A worthy candidate to join her new thrall.  
 
        “P-please, no, I d-don’t want…” the blonde girl gasped out as she was fucked. Her protests only aroused Kallisto further. The thick mound that she ceaselessly slammed into twitched and throbbed around her huge, daemonic cock, well adjusted to its size, eager to be pounded and violated despite the girl’s weak pleas of protest. The daemonette’s aura of desire had never left the room, and even to this moment, the trainee was inhaling those dark vapors that drove her body wild with lust - enticed her mind - enchanted her soul.
 
        “Hahahaha!” Kallisto cackled, eyes glowing brightly as the excess of desire continued to feed and fuel the return of her faded power. “I find your complaints difficult to believe, Syberia! Your body seems a bit too enthusiastic for this. I think,” she said, leaning down to whisper into the distressed girl’s ear from behind, her huge, pillowy bosom smushing into her upper back, “that you love this. You want this. You need this. I saw the way you bent over. It was so sensual, so precise, so controlled. Spreading your thighs just a little, just enough. The movements of a lewd girl hungry for dick. You were hoping that I’d do this to you. Admit it. Admit it to yourself and to your beloved teacher!”
 
        “N-no! It’s… hngh… ah… not t-true!” the girl moaned indecently as the rhythmic humping continued into her tight pussy. As if to punish her lie, Kallisto stuck her long tongue out, licking the girl’s cheek from behind, leaving a trail of saliva. She swung her hips back and threw them forward with dramatic force, fingers tracing sensual circles on the girl’s hips. Splat, splurch, splurch, the lewd wet noises echoed in the dim chamber. Syberia closed her eyes and gritted her teeth in a grimace, struggling to bear the pleasure.
 
        “Look at yourself, knees shaking, heart pounding. I can feel you squeezing my cock like a whore. Mmm, and you just got tighter when I said that. Damn! Whew, I might explode if this keeps up. You just love being talked to like the dirty slut you are, don’t you?”
 
        “N-no!” Syberia gasped, eyes trailing upward as her entire body shook forward with the force behind each thrust. Her breasts swung forward and back, their beautiful weight, shape, and softness observed only by Sister Chastity, who was writhing on the ground, powerless to do anything. Dark power had claimed her womb, and with it, her mind, and her strength. The daemonette grinned, reaching her hands forward to grip and caress the sweaty, bouncing brown orbs on Syberia’s chest, forcing her to emit a needy groan.
 
        “Trust me baby, I’m only getting started.  By the time I’m finished with you, you’ll never be able to go back to your paltry faith!”
 
        “Please, stop,” the poor novice begged. “I’m going crazy!”
 
        “And this wet cunt of yours is making me rut! Sorry, babe!” the daemonette said, grabbing her victim by her wrists to hold her up and then swinging back up to a standing position behind her, still rolling her hips against the girl’s nubile rear. She accelerated her fucking, drool dripping from the tanned blonde she railed mercilessly. The momentum of the sex caused Kallisto’s massive mammaries to jiggle and bounce every time she slammed herself in to the hilt, and her own neglected honey pot had several streams of sweet, forbidden juices running down her thick, voluptuous thighs.
 
        Hanging over the ground, held up by the daemon’s unnaturally strong grip around her wrists, droplets of sweat flicked off of Syberia’s bright blonde locks as they swayed rhythmically to the beat of the raunchy ride. Her traitorous body was all-too-glad to be ravaged by the monster behind her, and her mind was so addled with desire that she struggled even to think. The mist of lust that Kallisto secreted continued to subtly influence her being, seducing the former virgin’s very soul into twisted depravity, yet also preventing her from reaching her peak, to the cruel glee of the busty pink creature.
 
        “I think it’s high time I moved this to the next level,” the servant of excess grinned, her long tail traveling up to her lush labia to stroke herself, soaking a good length of it in her corrupt juices. Dripping, her tail slowly coiled up, hovering in the air as it approached its intended destination, with the aspiring Sister of Battle utterly oblivious to its purpose. Then, Syberia felt something soft tickling her backside, rubbing between her buttocks and sliding against her vulnerable anus.
 
        “N-no! Throne, not there! I-I’m not ready for that!” Syberia begged, but her pleas only served to encourage the daemonette, relishing the weak resistance being given now. Within moments, the tail’s tip was slowly wiggling past the girl’s tight sphincter, even while the pink temptress continued burying her unreasonably hard girth in her victim’s other passage. “Nooo!” she cried, but the sensation was only mildly uncomfortable.
 
        Thanks to the powerful dark fluids coating the tail, every motion of the appendage felt like electricity jolting through her from the base of her spine, a stark contrast to the smoldering heat she felt with every thrust into her quim. Before long, the tanned blonde found herself shivering and shaking, gasping at the feeling of the tail pushing deeper and then slipping out just a bit before going even further inside of her. Centimeter after centimeter slowly slid into her ass, and then began to pump in and out in sync with each mighty swing of Kallisto’s hips against the groaning novice’s rear.
 
        Tears forming in her eyes, Syberia turned her gaze back at the beast that violated her from behind. “Not… so rough!” she whispered helplessly. The daemonette paused for a moment, stunned by the erotic sight, then her shaft throbbed hard, and she took the nubile slut before her with renewed vigor, laughing demonically.
 
        Time became a fluid, incoherent mess within the sealing chamber. Neither of the women could tell if it was some power of the monster running rampant or a product of their own crippled perception of its passage. Moments of passion and pleasure became eternities of bliss. Minutes of debased rapture passed as transient flickers, lost forever in the haze of coitus extreme. Silky pink folds rippled over a swelling, pulsing column of glowing flesh that pounded against them; the beautiful, white-haired figure upon the ground desperately fondled herself as she stared longingly at the violent, crude act of lovemaking from the hermaphrodite that dominated the overwhelmed blonde angel.
 
        And from the daemonette’s lush lips, did a malevolent cackle manifest. “Now, my sweet girl, Syberia, swear the truth. Swear the truth, and you will receive my divine seed, and enter into my fold as my pet, forever to serve and service me,” she spoke, the sensual words of the seductress as a melody of sin upon her victim’s ears. And yet, a part of the novice held true in the face of absolute surrender. As if remembering something important, her lips moved in patterns long since memorized from the beginning of her sacred training, her voice long too hoarse from her husky moans for her whispers to be audible.
 
        And then, the moment passed, gone as quick as it came, and Syberia returned to her vulnerable state. She croaked out a pathetic plea. “P-please,” was all she could utter. Kallisto laughed uproariously and slammed her hips against the girl’s jiggling ass again. The weight of the daemonette’s cock rubbed against her deepest depths, prompting a low, exhausted groan. Her tail swished around deep in her colon, applying pressure to her vaginal passage from the other side. Syberia was at her limit. Her jaw fell open, tongue hanging out as her mind burned with acute pleasure.
 
        “Syberia! D-don’t give in to her!” Chasity groaned from the floor, fully aware of how dire their situation was – if her pupil’s faith wavered, the entire Convent’s safety would be threatened by the now loose and rampant daemon. “Fight it!”
 
        “I… I can’t… I can’t take anymore! Please, just let me cum!” the blonde babe moaned, starting to embrace the hurricane of sensations storming her brain.
 
        “Well, I was gonna torture you a bit longer, but since you asked nicely…” Kallisto grinned, shark-like teeth gleaming in the flickering candlelight. “Do you admit that you wanted this from the start?”
 
        “Say it.”
 
        “Y… yes!”
 
        “Good girl. Do you swear to be my pet to use and dispose of as I see fit?” the pink monster said, her rainbow irises erupting with bright purple light as she continued to hump her prey silly.
 
        “I’m your pet! I’m your slut! Use me! F-fuck me!” the girl cried, her own eyes glowing an unnatural bright purple as dark power bound her to the contract. Chastity’s sweaty face contorted in fear as she watched the corruption of her favorite, beloved pupil to the power of excess. And yet, the sight of it brought out one of her most forbidden kinks, and the Seed of Desire within her reacted to her perverse thoughts, pulsing with evil energy inside of her and driving her past her brink yet again.
 
        “Ohhh, you have no idea how good it feels to hear that again,” the daemonette moaned, releasing some of her control over the prodigy and allowing her mind to melt in the fires of physical bliss. It was like all the built up overstimulation that the daemon had repressed came flooding out, driving the novice into an orgasm so intense that, if not for the beast’s skill in expanding the pleasure potential of her victims with her powers, the poor girl would simply have passed out.  Syberia’s hanging jaw was immediately complimented by her eyes rolling up into the back of her head, tears running down her cheeks, tongue lolling out, and her entire body spasming in one great rolling motion originating from her crotch. Even her heart stopped for a brief moment – only to leap back into action with mighty fervor.
 
        With a final, climactic thrust, Kallisto buried both her girth and her tail as far inside her new thrall as they could go, and unleashed the torrent of her own semen deep inside. Her output remained undiminished despite her previous ejaculations. If anything, she produced even more cum this time, and as each throbbing spurt blasted white fluid into the beautiful brown maiden, the servant of excess purred and licked her lips, staring at the tender, twitching, tanned back in front of her. Even as she continued to pour her seed out, the overflowing liquid splashing on the ground, she let go of one of the girl’s wrists to plant her hand firmly on the nape of her neck.
 
        There was a brief white glow, and the daemon pulled her hand back. Upon the flesh she had touched, there was, tattooed in pink, the symbol of Slaanesh. The mark of her thralldom.

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	The awe and adoration for the Living Saint Cybele that all Sisters of the Order of the Cardinal Chalice felt was no less intense in the hearts of the adepts Weylan and Aethas. Indeed, such was the magnitude of their faith that they were able to resist the corrupt influence of the glowing force buried within them as long as their eyes remained on their beloved leader. To be graced with the Prioress’s sexual advances was an honor beyond compare, as her sacred womanhood was prized and revered for its unspeakable power that only the Saint herself truly comprehended – and she only rarely spoke of it, as it was improper for one of her station to explain in intricate detail what exactly went on inside of her cooch. 

	What was known was jealously guarded, even within the Order, leaving countless Sisters with only conjecture as to the exact details. Rumors were commonplace. There was the obvious – shiny golden poon that feels unbelievably good – but there were plenty of other ones. Some theorized that St. Cybele’s very purity was undying – that her maidenhead would restore itself miraculously by dawn if it was torn. Others thought that she held nigh-infinite fertility, meaning that she would be impregnated if even a drop of semen got inside of her. The only thing that was for certain was that, of the sisters of the order who had warmed her bed, not one was left less than thoroughly and utterly satisfied to their limit, though all of them were loath to speak of their experience, as words could do it no justice. 

	Of course, such a tantalizing prospect was impossible for her masters to let pass by. For decades, the sensuous beauty beyond compare had endured and accepted the depraved desires of the cardinals that seemed to find any and all excuses to engage her in private ‘conversations’ behind closed doors. It was technically not her duty or anything to participate in these adulterous unions, but she did not seem to be opposed to them, or outright disgusted by them, either. 

A brave sister had once asked the Prioress why she accepted such disgusting men’s propositions, and the answer had been, in a gentle voice, “all Imperials suffer imperfections of their faith. They hold base desires that are easily manipulated, even if they are repressed or ignored. To save them from themselves, they must be allowed to release their wickedness and feel the glory of the Emperor. I have been blessed with the power to accept the wickedness of all. Any who seek physical and spiritual enlightenment, any who long for profound fulfillment, and any who wish to be purged of their darkness will find in me a willing partner.” Those words have never been forgotten, and many members of the Order of the Cardinal Chalice have taken them on as their own mantras, following in the footsteps of their idol. 

	It would never have come as a surprise to anyone for her to shed her modest robes and quite eagerly help herself to any of her girls that felt salacious urges around her. It was as if she derived a twisted pleasure in sating the lusts of others, no matter who they might be. Confronted with a pair of desire-ridden girls before her, her arousal became apparent as the unnaturally sweet smell of her flaring loins exuded from beneath her habit. 	

The battle-hardened lovers sheepishly separated from each other, blushing with gross shame at their behavior, yet unable to quell the furious lust pulsing through their wombs. “My-my lady, we apologize for our indiscretion,” Weylan managed to whimper, running a hand through her ruffled white bobcut to push the unruly bangs out of her eyes.

	“No, Sister Weylan. It does not require the wisdom of a Saint to understand the deep bond you share with your battle-sister,” St. Cybele said in her solemn, yet soothing tone. “It is far better to engage in such things here, rather than on the battlefield. Still, your indecency has interrupted your daily task, so, as your commander and spiritual leader, I must banish these vulgar feelings from your bodies and minds.”

	The women’s eyes widened as she lifted up her skirt to reveal her snatch, damp with moisture and softly glowing with the righteous, sacred power of a Living Saint. Her thighs were thick and soft, her shining labia were thick and engorged with blood, slightly parted, just enough to reveal the perfect pink inner folds they protected. Both women found themselves crawling up to their mistress, time slowing down as if to a trickle as their glittering eyes drifted from each curve of the Living Saint’s form to the next. Soon, their ravenous faces were only centimeters away from the flower of their idol, drinking in the smell of goodness with every sniff. 

	Aethas, her fine rear shifting back and forth as she positioned herself on her knees, found herself leaning closer and closer, mouth slowly opening – a single glistening strand of saliva extending between her upper and lower lip – and her neck twisting just slightly as her burning body compelled her onward, forward into the breach between the legs of St. Cybele. Her lips pressed into the tender flesh, her tongue slipped out to taste the glory of justice, and her head moved up and down rhythmically as she slowly, lovingly ate out her commander. Unnatural forces excited her tongue and lips, and she realized that her body was being seduced by the golden power.  

	The voluptuous St. Cybele smiled down as she continued to hold the skirt of her habit up, beads of sweat beginning to form on her ample ass and thighs, and on plenty of other parts of her body. Her face flushed with desire, and she let out a tiny mewl of pleasure from the attention her nethers were receiving from her devout follower. 

	Sister Weylan, meanwhile, watched her dearest love as she ‘worshipped’ the sex goddess before them with a hungry glean in her eye. Weylan could not tear her eyes away from the pairing, and felt the pounding organ within her bosom soaring with faith and pride at the sight. She, too, wished to serve. She crawled around, behind the Saint, who was too preoccupied with the treatment she was receiving to pay much attention to the pair of hands that gripped her by her firm cheeks. When Weylan spread them, the unspeakable beauty giggled, instantly understanding what her servant was planning. Slurp, slurp, slurp, the horny sister’s tongue went between the ample cheeks before her. 

	“Ah, marvelous!” St. Cybele sighed as she was eaten out enthusiastically from both sides, gently swinging her hips back and forth in a slow rhythm. The girls happily leaned in and back with her, the little wet noises of each lick and suck accompanied by the excited breathing of their idol. 


TO BE CONTINUED