Branding Josephine's womb

The Branding – A ****'s Eternal Mark

With a snap of his fingers that echoed like a gunshot in the charged air, the room plunged into absolute darkness—save for the eerie pink glow that erupted from Stefano's upturned palms. The violet light pulsed like a living thing, casting grotesque shadows that writhed across the walls. Josephine let out a broken whimper as Stefano fisted a hand in her auburn curls, the young woman gazed deep into his glowing eyes.

Into the abyss.

"Josephine Corsi,” Stefano intoned, his deep baritone now layered with multiple registers—the bass rumble of his human speech overlaid with something far older and more terrible. The words vibrated in the air, making the crystal decanters on the sidebar shiver. "You were born a weak, pathetic boy. A mewling nothing who pissed himself at the first sign of conflict yet so eager to please..."

Josephine sobbed, her newly delicate fingers scrabbling at Stefano's wrist as the incubus hauled the slender beauty up by her hair. The motion made her swollen breasts jiggle obscenely, the breeding sow's pink nipples pebbling in the charged air.

"But now..." Stefano's free hand pressed flat against the toned plane of her lower abdomen. The moment skin met skin, a sizzling sound filled the room—accompanied by the blissful honeyed scent of corrupt burning souls. Josephine's scream tore through the apartment as an intricate tattoo began forming beneath Stefano's palm—a swirling Ouroboros serpent devouring its own tail, framed by the all-seeing Eye of Horus.

"F-FUCK!!! I'm gonna cum!!"

The lines glowed molten pink as they seared into her flesh, tendrils of dark energy snaking up to wrap around her breasts and down to the breeding sow's dripping cunt as she squirted like a hose. "Now you are mine."

Josephine's back arched violently, her shrill screams morphing into something between agony and ecstasy as the magic rewrote her very DNA.

"OHMYGOD!! YES!"

The brand pulsed with each heartbeat, its glow intensifying as it forged new neural pathways—burning away the last remnants of Josie Corsi’s resistance. When Stefano finally released her, the weak femboy was no more, she collapsed to the rug in a boneless heap, her hoarse voice transformed into something higher, sweeter as she babbled:

"Y-yes! Stefano! Master! I'm yours—only yours—always yours—"

Susanna watched with wide, dark eyes, the voluptuous milf's full lips trembling. A thin line of drool escaped the corner of her mouth as the sinful mother's fingers dug into the rug's thick pile. "P-please...!" she begged, the word barely audible over the pounding of her own heart.

Stefano turned to her, his grin widening to reveal more of those lengthening canines. "Oh, don't worry, slut,” he purred, stalking toward her with panther-like grace. "You're next."