You must save them

You draw the sword of Saint Magdalena in both your metal gloved hands and ready it for an attack. You rush in, screaming a war cry against defiling spirits. The daemon and the sisters immediately notice your presence but you don’t care, justice will be yours.

You swing at the daemon, but he jumps away. You never imagined such a large fiend could be so quick. Perhaps his speed comes from him being part reptile. Before you can ready your sword for another attack, sister Olivia grabs one of your arms.

“No, Sabine," she scolds. "You mustn’t!"

Sister Constance grabs your other arms and says, “It’s true, sister. The daemons are not our enemies.”

You cannot believe what blasphemy your friends are speaking. Have they truly surrendered to evil so fully they can no longer see it? Before you can chastise them, the daemon swings his tail at the back of your head and everything becomes dark.

You don’t know how much later you wake up, but when you do, you are completely naked and lie on a stone floor. On one side you see the crocodile daemon. He is kneeling with the sword of saint Magdalena in his hands. To his sides, dwarfed by his scaly size, kneel the traitorous sisters, Constance and Olivia.

“Great Lord," rasps the reptilian daemon, "to you I bring this offering of steel and flesh. A mighty sword of great magical power. It was carried by this young sister. Since I have already filled my quota, I am no longer permitted to take any more. Her too I grant to thou. To take for yourself, or delegate to one of your subordinates as it pleases you.”

You turn around and look at whomever the crocodile daemon is addressing. When you see the fiend, your mouth falls wide open and eyes grow wide in terror. It is a daemon so huge you can scarcely believe it. He is muscularly built, with red-black skin and four savage eyes that glow with malevolent energy. A tattered loincloth cannot hide the loathsome beast of his cock, still glistening with the juices of your sisters. This is the daemon lord Thoros.

You are so frightened, you want to run away. You look around for a way out. On the edge of the room you see sister Rayna, lying widespread on the floor, with an imp between her legs. The beast is thrusting merrily into Rayna’s pussy and the sister is moaning loudly and clutching at her jiggling breasts.

You search for another way and see sister Glenda, a green haired elf, on her knees in front of a succubus. She is sucking the cock of the voluptuous daemoness as the succubus teases the elf's knife-blade ear with a fingertip.

You try another way, but that one is blocked by a hunter daemon, lean, gray-fleshed, and corded with muscle, who eyes you with lust.

You try again, but that way is blocked as well. This time by a controller daemon, skittering left and right. The arachnid fiend can claim your body and wear you like a poppet.

If you make a move into any direction, you are bound to be caught. There is no escape from here. Instead, you place your hands in front of your breasts and quim and try to hide yourself as best you can.

“Very good, my servant!” Thoros says with a loud booming voice. “I am very pleased with this magnificent object you have presented to me … as well as the sword of Saint Magdalena.”

You feel humiliated when the daemon lord refers to you as a mere object. Despite your better judgment, you looked in his direction. To your great despair, you see the War Mother by Thoros’s side. She, like all the other women, is completely naked and marked by a pentagram tattoo on her belly.

From behind the daemon lord comes another humanoid figure. It is sister Gabrielle, the armored woman who gave you those gauntlets. Only now, she isn’t armored any more. She too, is completely naked, Showing off her beautiful ebony body. On her belly stands a proud yellow tattoo. For a moment you wonder why hers is yellow, but then Thoros speaks again.

“Well, well, my little redhead. Whatever shall I do with you?”

“Please master, give her to me.” The little imp in the corner yelps. “I only have one …”

“Silence, mutt.” The hunter interrupts him. “You already have one. I was permitted three and have none yet.”

“If you haven’t gotten around finding a womb yet in this house of repressed sluts, dear hunter, then maybe it is a sign you were not meant to breed.” The succubus teases. “I’m sure lord Thoros will see fit to grant her to someone … more deserving.”

The succubus slides her hands over her curvaceous body as she says the last two words.