Soul Eating and Other Voracious Appetites

Regan dared to open an eye... and, while holding her head backwards at herself, marveled at the new color of flame atop her shoulders... and, almost a beat later, realized she was somehow rendered naked in front of John again. “Aaiie!”

“What?” John asked as he reached for her spell list.

Regan’s head was now carefully balanced on just her left palm as the attached arm covered her nipples while her right spread wide to hide her crotch... and only after doing it did she realize how precariously she was now holding her head.

But she didn’t lose her grip... and indeed, her head felt incredibly light now, her grip so secure that it scared her, and overall she just felt more... assured of her safety, nudity and all. “Did my head get... lighter?” Deftly again did she bring the head down to be felt by her hands; it was not cheese, at least outside, and no odd smells haunted her nose. Satisfied, she returned to covering her bits before asking, “John, ah... don’t know... ah feel diff’rent, but not really?”

The Gamer nodded half-heartedly. “You have some new abilities... and crazy high physical stats given that you look the same… in terms of muscles, I mean.”

“Abilities?”

Her face was more curious than worried, so John took that as an invitation. “Regan, manifest your soul glaive.”

By his command and without her understanding, Regan moved her head into the crook of her left arm and, with a grace that one might have mistaken for practiced, her right reached up and into the verdant flame of her body. Regan gasped slightly as 100 mana was deducted from her... and watched with John as the hand snaked out what both knew had to be a spine.

If it was Regan’s, her body did not collapse for the sudden withdrawal; the spinal weapon instead dropped and sagged like a stretch of leather as it was pulled from her body until, with a flare of bright green fire, the end of it flopped out and manifested a blade more than a forearm long. Before it could clatter to the ground, the entire spinal column began to coil up into the air, anchored only by the dullahan’s sure grip, until she snapped it with her wrist. The entire column stiffened... and left her with a long-bladed spear held effortlessly in her single hand.

As she stood there, stupefied by her own act, John blinked near the weapon’s end; up close, he saw that the metal was thick and black as if unfinished. Bits of stone marred it as if the blade rose from the earth itself; its edge was dull and its dark gray surfaces ate the light that touched it, offering no reflection in return.

(Summoned) Soul Glaive: minor magical weapon. Can only be wielded properly by the dullahan that called it. This weapon’s blade cuts any soul-bearing creature no matter how dull it appears; it deals a base of 100+[wielder’s str/2] slashing damage and deals an additional [wielder’s level] entropic damage. Critical hits with the soul glaive instead deal purely unaspected damage unless the wielder wishes it not to. If a critical hit with this weapon would destroy an entity, the next hit is automatically a critical one. Entities destroyed with the soul glaive are automatically consumed by the willing wielder. Targets lacking souls only suffer the slashing damage and cannot be critically hit by this weapon.

John nodded as he considered her other spells; Regan, meanwhile, was anything but satisfied. “W-What the fock is this?! Is this mine?! I- don’t get so close to it!” She whipped it away from John as she returned to awkwardly covering her crotch while also holding the bizarre weapon aloft. “Why does it feel like I could…?” With a testing twist of her wrist, the weapon shifted… and, with her will, loosened to whip into a testing curve. The flexible weapon stiffened back into a rod as she imagined it doing so; somehow, she felt she could wield it as naturally as she could walk.

“Definitely a pattern in all this…”

Bind Mount lvl2, 100sp
Permits the dullahan to have her own specialized minion. The minion must be some type of horse, though the horse may pull a carriage instead of being literally ridden by the dullahan. A maximum of [spell lvl] mounts may be so bound; multiple mounts may be summoned if bound physically to a kind of transport rideable by the dullahan, i.e. a **** carriage. Summoning or dismissing a mount is a free action available once per minute.

Deathtouch lvl10, variable sp
The dullahan channels [lvl chosen x 10]sp with this attack and can deliver it by touch or through her soul glaive. The attack deals [lvl chosen x 20] necrotic damage on top of whatever other damage is being dealt; if delivered with the soul glaive, this damage is also multiplied with critical hits and follows the soul glaive’s rules for doing so. Targets lacking souls cannot be harmed by this spell.

Entropic Gaze lvl4, 30sp
The dullahan channels the consumed souls within to express her deathly nature upon a single enemy within 100 feet, instilling them with despair and weakness. The target’s strength, agility, and endurance are all lowered by [spell lvl x 3]. If one or more of the affected stats would be reduced to zero, they are instead reduced to one and the following afflictions are inflicted in order of how many stats have been so reduced: blindness, deafness, and their soul being consumed by the dullahan. Targets lacking souls cannot be harmed by this spell.

Feast of Souls lvl6, 100mp
The dullahan targets as many souls in the area as would fill her soul pool to maximum, to a minimum of one, within a 120-foot area; if used indiscriminately, the nearest are targeted first. Each victim within the area is drained of [spell lvl x 10] mana. If the targets run out of mana, they begin to lose half as much health for the remainder. All health and mana drained this way is condensed into temporary soul points at a ratio of 100:1; these points are lost within an hour or when the dullahan casts Feast of Souls again. Anything slain by this spell has its soul consumed by the dullahan as well. Targets lacking souls cannot be harmed by this spell.

Rider’s Bounty lvl10, 5mp
The dullahan can store up to [spell lvl x 50] additional soul points in each of her bound mounts and, if a mount is summoned when the dullahan reaps an excess of soul points, the excess is automatically allotted to the mount. Transferring any amount of souls to or from a mount takes only one casting of this spell.

Sight of the Dullahan lvl9, 100mp
The dullahan’s eyes roll around in her head as the spell enhances her vision to reach beyond mere eyesight. For the duration of the spell, the dullahan loses all of her natural senses. Instead, the dullahan is able to perceive, through darkness, cover, or any illusory effects cast by an entity of level [dullahan’s lvl x 3] or lower, everything within [spell lvl x 100] meters of her head. The dullahan’s mind is braced for this knowledge during the spell, but she can only retain knowledge after the spell of up to [spell lvl / 4, rounded down] subjects. This effect cannot be cast more than once per night and cannot be cast during the day.

Wraith Strike lvl9, passive
The dullahan transitions her soul glaive into ghostly energy, changing its nature. All attacks with the glaive will instead drain an enemy for an amount of mana equivalent to the damage that would have been dealt; any target reduced to zero mana loses one point from each of Charisma, Wisdom, and Intelligence and suffers from animal fear of the dullahan. If Wraith Strike would reduce one or more of the affected stats to zero, it instead reduces them to one and renders the target unresponsive, unmoving, and/or unthinking, respectively. Targets lacking souls are unaffected by a soul glaive in this mode.

Doom Sense: Dullahans are extremely sensitive to ****, being capable of sensing **** that is occurring, has occurred, or will occur within thirty feet of their heads. The tendency to sense **** depends on many factors including severity, inevitability, and strength of the entity whose doom was detected.

Dullahan: Regan is now an awakened dullahan, and has a soul point pool to reflect her **** spirit nature; soul points derived from a consumed soul are equal to the level the soul had before being eaten, and souls not consumed immediately upon **** deteriorate and grant less and less soul points until they dissipate completely. Dullahans begin to weaken and perish if not periodically fed souls. Regan consumes a soul point for every two levels she has every twenty-four hours.

Grip of the Grave: A proper dullahan is rarely at risk of dropping her head unless she wills it; gravity and muscles will always favor a sure grip, and only **** circumstances will **** a dullahan to surrender her grip on her own head.

I came here to try and ease the burdens of Lily, and now I have another girl in need of life ****… though at least this one is probably easier to take care of… By John’s calculation, he could’ve had Regan fill up with just a portion of the angels they had destroyed, if those counted as having souls; if filled to max, she could go twenty nights without needing any more. Besides, if all she needs are fresh souls, maybe preserved souls, too… With that thought, John blinked away.

Regan looked about in a brief panic until John returned behind her, his left hand clenching two soul gems while he crouched to grip her clothes in his right. With acquisition, he put the robe back on her, making her leap a few inches into the air as she spun about. “O-Oh! My… clothes, right… thank ye.” She gripped her head close to her body and let the soul glaive point towards the dirt; as readily as she willed it into being, the entire thing burst into green flames again as she wished it were gone.

“Well, at least you don’t have to worry about sliding it back into place,” John offered, trying to lighten the mood.

Regan only **** a nervous smile in return.

“Well, I don’t know if you feel hungry at the moment, but… well, do you?”

“Ah’m… that is… ooh. Ah kinda… am? It’s a weird feeling, but…” Her hands came together to clutch her head to her belly; her brow furrowed as she tried to nail down the strange emptiness she suddenly felt aware of, but no words came to describe it. It was not quite hunger… it was more, a strange longing combined with thirst…

“Well,” John said as he raised his clenched fist in front of her eyes, “I wanted to try an experiment.” He opened his hand, revealing the two small purple gems, each glittering with a level 5 “soul” or some equivalent thereof. Her eyes fell upon them in a snap. “These are called-”

“Hampf.”

John blinked down at Regan’s head… which she had, automatically and swiftly, lunged forward to snarf down both gems in a single, giant-mouthed bite. A bit of her drool had been exchanged for the gems on John’s still-open palm.

Slowly her actions were realized, albeit far slower than her body had automatically carried them out; her face remained frozen in lumpy-cheeked humiliation as all her skin shifted to pink. John couldn’t help but note she had not immediately released the gems.

Regan gains 10 soul points.

“Did… did you just eat the soul gems?”

“Mmm-mmm,” she denied in high-pitched, closed-mouth squeal.

“Then… return them?”

Humiliating as it was, his suggestion was a command; her mouth opened, letting two saliva-coated gems fall back out onto John’s hand.

Soul Gem (empty): This soul gem could contain a soul of up to level five if captured using the appropriate mechanisms or techniques. It currently contains no soul essence whatsoever.

“Ah’m… ah-ah-ah’m sorry, I-” Regan cried as tears welled in her eyes.

“It’s alright, Regan.”

“Ah just saw ‘em, ah didn’ mean tah- ah-ah-” Her gibbering became less intelligible as she continued to panic and turn ever redder.

“It’s sort of what I was hoping for, really! Regan, calm down.”

He couldn’t command her feelings… but she also couldn’t avoid at least trying to calm herself. By his suggestion, she fell silent and began to inhale and exhale deeply, doing her best to return from her anxious state. It was barely working.

“Alright, let’s go somewhere so I can tell you all about what you can do… and what you technically always have been, I guess…”

Ten minutes later…

“So… ah need to keep… ah mean, ah need to kill…?”

“Well, that or be with me when I do… and if you want, we can always do that instead. I just need you to stay healthy now; there’s no need to go spending all the soul you harvest on spells and such, after all.”

The study had seemed an appropriate place to John; it was quiet, the door closed, and it didn’t call to mind everything she had seen in his sanctuary. The two had only faced interruptions from Lily who, eager as she was, had to obey John’s command to stay calm and laze about the pools for now. Regan was able to sit in one of the comfy chairs with her head comfortably on her lap; she continued to express no physical changes or symptoms of her deathly nature, something that thankfully separated her from Ju who, if her meditations were permitted to stop, would slowly devolve into her ravenous, zombie form.

Of course, I don’t know if eating more souls would affect… ah Hell, now I’m just overworrying. Besides, letting her disintegrate instead isn’t an option. “Alright… well, that’s that, then, for now. What do you think?”

“W-What?”

John shrugged. “I’ve told you what your powers can do now, and now you’re level 26; way closer to me than you were before… so what do you want to do? Do you have any questions? Any wants?”

“Y-Yes, and… yes,” she confessed, her face reddening again.

“What questions do you have?”

“Ah’ve got so many, ah…”

“What’s the most pressing one?”

“Do yah find me disgusting?” She sucked her lips into her mouth as if to try and shut herself up, and her eyes on her disembodied head began to glisten. “Ah… that’s not-”

“No, I do not,” John offered after measuring his reply.

“Even though it… it didn’t work? It only made me… some kinda soul-sucking monster?”

“Christ, Regan… I’ve never found you disgusting, and I doubt I ever will. I just can’t… take advantage of you as you are.”

“But yah take advantage of everyone else- ah!” Her hands flew up to cover her mouth as her eyes widened in fear.

John settled into the chair opposite of her… and clenched his jaw visibly. Worry deeply wrinkled Regan’s brow even as he calmly replied, “I guess I have, haven’t I?”

“Ah’m sorry!”

“No, you’re… right. You’re naturally afraid of the same happening to you… I suppose-”

“Ah want… a-ah mean, ah’m not afraid!”

“What do you… want, exactly?”

“Ah want you to f… t… take me…?” She struggled with telling him the truth; if she couldn’t deny it, she could at least make it sound less perverse than it did in her head.

“So I just told you about your spells and how you’ve become this new kind of fighter and… you still want me to… ‘take’ you.”

His almost sardonic delivery made her cheeks burn brighter. Was he mocking her desire? Was he rejecting her? She couldn’t even be sure… and if it was, then why were his eyes still occasionally drifting to her body? “Ah’m being serious,” she huffed.

John shook his head in dismay. “So even if you’re this level, you still think you want that… though your libido did go up a bit, so maybe that’s why…”

Regan’s worry transmuted into frustration with a speed that surprised John… though not nearly as much as her standing up and, without ever letting go of her head, grabbing the bottom of her dress and lifting it up and over until it had snaked entirely off her body. By the time it fell to the ground, her arms had weaved gracefully out of its grasp, leaving her lithe body bared once again to the air, her little pubic mound glistening, her nipples hard, and her stance trembling as she tried to be brave in this tiny, private room. Red-faced as she was, she still managed to stammer, “A-Ah’ve wanted you since ah thought about it: how you saved me, took me in, gave me this home away from home.”

“I inadvertently kidnapped you from-”

“Yeah, ah was with my parents, yeah, ah was ‘appy to be back… but the only reason ah want to go back is to let them know ah’m safe, John! Safe with you! Ah don’t want them to care for me for all mah life and then some, and ah don’t…” Her tears came down in streams on her cheeks, one after the other, as she choked on her words, “Ah don’t want to die a lonely ‘ead on a podium, John. And ah… ah like you, and ah never had a chance to like anyone besides me parents and the telly, so when yah tell me ah’m-”

“Regan…”

“When yah treat mah feelins like ah’m brainwashed or dumb, it’s downright infuriatin’-!”

“Give me your head.”

Regan’s almost hysterical delivery paused as she walked forward and laid her head in his waiting hands. She stared up at him in quiet terror; she had not felt this **** in some time… and his expression was too difficult to read for her to grow easy in his grip. Her body wrung its hands as she anxiously waited for the return of her very personal property… but he didn’t give her back just yet.
Wordlessly, John raised Regan’s face to his, and her eyes hadn’t widened in realization until his lips already warmed hers. He didn’t invade her mouth, or press roughly; sturdy as she now was, he still handled her head with a care that bordered on fear, his lips pressed firmly, securely to hers. She dared to open her mouth in response; he mistook her gasp as an invitation and accepted, toying with her tongue as her hot breaths quickened into his mouth and through her nose to tickle his upper-lip.
A head trembles by the movement traveling up the spine and neck; a dullahan head, then, held firmly by its master and pressed against hungry lips, is possessed of no engine to express that shaking nervousness, that exhilaration of a sudden and unexpected expression, of the first kiss—her first kiss—from the object of her recent obsession. Her body shook, and twisted, and didn’t know what to do with its hands as it blushed pink, grew weak at the knees, and groped the air to try and hold John in turn. It was foolish to call this sudden, intense burst of emotion love, or at least responsible love… but to the teenage head in John’s grasp, it was the truest love she had known; a more exhilarating **** her parents had never bestowed, nor her hidden life permitted.

He withdrew his lips just enough to whisper into her mouth, “So this is what you want?”

“Yes,” she exhaled.

The mischievous wrinkle in his gaze failed to knock her out of the high. John opened a small tunnel to his right and, with very little ceremony, plopped her head onto his bed at the other end of the portal. In this tight little ring, Regan’s head was kept secure and safe from rolling about or moving much at all, even when she dared to ask, “W-What are yah doing?” He had settled her in with the back of her head to the wall, letting her see most of the study before her… including her own naked, still trembling body, of which she was suddenly self-conscious, and John.

“Let’s see how much you really want... and if you don’t want it, we can explore that together until we figure out exactly what you’re ready for.” As John spoke, he loped to, and then behind, Regan’s naked, trembling body.

Her petite, pale form was soon matched by his larger frame as he unequipped all his clothing, piece by piece, until he was stark naked just behind her. She felt something solid poke her left buttcheek… and her entire body began to shake as her face turned beet red. “W-W-W-W-What?”

“Let’s see… have you ever waxed- ah, why would you, you’ve been imprisoned for most of your teenage life… alright, time to try something I’ve been meaning to test.”

Her stammering, one-word question continued right through the prompt appearing.

You used Shape the Body on Regan, shrinking her pubic hair follicles by a factor of seven for one round.

Shape the Body is now level 2!

“Ah, neat-” But John had hardly gotten the words out before Regan felt the strangest burning sensation downstairs… and watched, with wide, dumb eyes as all her pubes shifted about and, in chunks, fell off completely.

John, too, caught sight as they drifted downward. “Go ahead and brush them all to the floor by the door… right, that’s good…”

After a few humiliating seconds of this, Regan was standing apart from the small pile of pubic hair that had accumulated on the ground. John remained right behind her, hiding his cock behind her silhouette as he spoke. “How does that feel?”

It felt unnaturally smooth… and now that she could see the cleft of her sex from the front, even with her thighs clenched together in embarrassment, she offered her honest opinion. “Ah look like ah’m nine!”

“Nonsense,” John explained… and, to prove it, he reached down, grabbed her knees from behind, and suddenly scooped her up in his grasp. One humiliating moment had lead right into the next as Regan found herself staring right into her spread thighs to witness the soft, bald labia between them. The motion had also done something else: revealed John’s raging hard-on as it came to stand up against the crack of her ass. He held her wiggling form up like this as she found herself speechless. “See? You’re all woman… and older than me, I think.”

“W-What?”

“My eighteenth birthday was less than two weeks ago.”

“…W-WHAT?!”

His arms snaked through to lock her knees and his elbows together, leaving his hands free to roam her petite, trapped form. One hand drifted to her right nipple and gave it a tender twist, eliciting a surprised moan from the head; the other inched a finger into her sex and pulled one lip from the other, revealing the glistening sex hiding there. Quietly, a cleric spirit hovered beneath this scene as it scooped up all the pubic hairs severed by the sudden shrinkage of their respective follicles.

“So is this what you want, Regan?”

“Yes,” she suddenly moaned. Her hands waved wildly as she tried to take it back… except she couldn’t. The mixture of panic and pleasure at finally being mauled by John left her mixed up with guilt, shame, and arousal in twisting measures. Her legs kicked half-heartedly, her body quaked in his hug, and her pussy began to drool down her taint thanks to her newfound position.

John’s sex slid upwards; it slid along the lubrication on her taint and hotdogged the virgin slit he found. His other hand pressed it inward; even at this angle, his monstrous cock managed to vanish most of its head in her folds. “You want me to fuck you like this?”

“Ah God, like this, and in other ways- J-John, please… don’t **** me to say anymore…!”

“You’re higher level now, but your relationship score is still above a hundred… and you went and stripped in front of me, demanding this… so I’m thinking I’ve been too cautious. Do you like this better?”

Regan wasn’t even sure how to respond anymore; she remained divided between the kind, gentle John that had striven to protect her… and this carnal display, the sort she had grown more and more jealous of as she heard about them—or witnessed them!—in her brief tenure in his temple. This was something she had never had any right to; her parents had prepared her, time and again, for a life where this sort of love could just never be… because normal men would never understand, much less love, much less have sex with, a headless woman.

Her parents were wrong on many counts, but they were especially wrong here with John.

“I’m not very good at pulling out, Regan,” John whispered excitedly, “you might get pregnant.”

The idea of babies had always been cute to Regan, and she had loved the precious little ones she saw in the basement… but she also feared birthing, as her mother had, so bizarre a child as she was. She honestly didn’t know what to think about the idea… but immature and shortsighted as she was in this heated moment, she could only sigh, “Ah-ah love babies…”

John’s prick surged at the invitation. “I was going to say I can remove them if you do, so you wouldn’t need to panic…”

“D-Don’t remove… ah mean… if ah did... oh, what do you ‘ave me saying now?!” Regan was about ready to faint, except that her nature didn’t permit it.

“Well then… let’s give you one now, and you can decide later.” John’s hand slid up to rub her pubic mound in anticipation.

“W-Wait-” came too late from her lips before the prompt in front of his eyes had appeared close enough for even her to read from behind.

Sovereignty: You used Breeder’s Authority (Fertility) on Regan Sheogue O’Sullivan! Casting complete. Target: cause Regan to ovulate.

“Wait?” John cooed as he shifted her body.

“B-Babies are… a big… big deal,” she gasped in hurried chunks, “a-and to just… oh… I can’t…!” Her body had been angled to catch the head of John’s manhood, trapping him at her virgin entrance; he needed only lower her small body down to claim her… and now she knew damn well what it would mean if he did so. And she was not ready to watch; her eyes screwed shut.

“Open your eyes and watch, Regan,” John instructed, reveling in her panicked stare as she watched him slide another centimeter into her. Her opening was narrow enough to earn a struggling gasp from John; it took his every nerve to keep from slamming her down. “Tell me what you want right now.”

“Ah… ah wanna close my eyes!”

“You need to watch it… so tell me: am I going to take you now?” His hands reached down and caressed her clit and labia, massaging her sex around the head of his cock until she was left gasping. John hadn’t even applied Aphrodisiac yet; he wanted to wait until she consented… and her quivering voice threatened to break in a way he knew would be so.

“Oh… oh my… yes… ah!” She wanted to take it back, even if it was true… but it was too late for that, of course.

John relaxed his grip on her body, spread-eagle and held aloft as it was… and groaned as he felt her narrow opening grip his sex. She had grown wet enough from his teasing, but he still struggled to not shove her down until it hurt; all the same, he wasn’t going any deeper like this… and as another few centimeters gave way, he felt that precious membrane, that maidenhead of a cloistered woman, stretch against his cock.

“Ah… what if ah…?!” Regan couldn’t come up with any questions past the panic of having a man inside her… much less staring as her sex got stretched out before her eyes. The entire pose was humiliating, primal, and carried her fantasies beyond where she could have taken them; in her mind, her head was always near his, or aloft on her shoulders… and not made to witness the ravaging of her body, however sweet the sensation.

She certainly wasn’t ready for his “encouragement.”

Aphrodisiac applied! Regan is now 1,000% more receptive to you.

It was a low dosage at only 100 mana, but it was as far as John wanted to take it. He didn’t want her to lose her head over it.

“HHnnnngh!” Her legs bucked wildly as his fingers were met with a blast of newfound moisture. Her squirt sprayed the chair where John had been sitting just a moment ago and coated his junk in femcum; Regan’s face struggled to keep her eyes open as she gasped with the sudden **** of his stimulation. “Aaah God! J-John, this is… this is too… much…!”

A wave of satisfaction struck John as he watched her… and, with the flood of her arousal seeping through her hymen and onto his dick, he could no longer resist doing the inevitable. With a slow, easy drop, he pushed his cock deeper into her trembling tunnel… and stretched and then finally broke through her outgrown virginity. The pain of it barely registered for Regan until she saw the trickle of blood… and her mixture of emotions grew ever more clouded as feeling his dick fill her soon became all she could fathom. She didn’t even flinch as he bottomed out, hitting her cervix with the gentle **** of gravity; he lifted her and dropped her again, trembling from how powerfully her narrow birth canal squeezed and milked him for his seed.

John didn’t have any pillow talk for her; he just focused on not firing off too quickly in this fresh, teenage snatch. He let her legs fall, forcing her headless body to pivot forward as she hung, impaled, on his cock; with his hands free, he began mauling her tiny tits as he used them to leverage his thrusts and begin bouncing her in the air. Her legs spasmed and stretched, but they couldn’t find the solid ground; like this she trembled, and came, and continued to spasm as her master filled her with dick. Somewhere in the back of her addled mind was the reminder that this was a loaded gun now, ready to impregnate her as he had his other minions… and the idea of having babies with John excited her more and more as she continued to revel in the feeling of his thrusts. Her lungs ached from her constant, tiny moans; her eyes struggled to not squint too narrowly, lest she lose sight of her poor little body being bounced against John, her ****, ovulating womb being battered as if under siege.

Satisfied with her wetness, John killed the Aphrodisiac effect by re-applying it.

Aphrodisiac applied! Regan is now 10% more receptive to you.

He almost thought it didn’t work until, with ragged breaths, she finally managed intelligible words. “Ah… ah might… have… bay-bees… with heads off…!”

“Cute little dullahan babies?” John cooed as he groped at her body. Her happy trembling and occasional mewl told him the Aphrodisiac wasn’t all that necessary, now.

“Ah… ah don’t want… ya tah… hate… me…!”

There was a lot to unpack there… but horny John thought of just one easy way to ensure she understood how much he wouldn’t hate her for birthing more dullahans.

Sovereignty: You used Breeder’s Authority (Fertility) on Regan Sheogue O’Sullivan! Casting complete. Target: cause Regan to ovulate.

Her mind barely registered the pop-up, even as John used his right hand to briefly guide it towards her. “Ah… tah… twins…?!”

“I’ll never hate you for it,” John whispered… and, as he saw her mixture of emotions and felt her begin to come on his cock again, he found himself nearing his own end. With a tight bear hug, John pressed her little body to his as he anchored himself against her cervix. His grip wrapped her up like she might be launched off by what was coming; she too began to sense that was exactly what was going to happen.

He was going to finish inside of her… deep inside. She’d be pregnant… a pregnant teenager who ate souls and got herself into this mess by desiring intimacy from the first man she met to actually show her any desire for it. The roulette of worries and anxieties made her shake and tremble in his vice grip, but she wasn’t going anywhere. She was strapped in… and she was made to watch as her thighs, parted by his massive cock, were open enough so she could see his balls pulse. His dick widened slightly. She saw it before she felt it… and moaned in a mixture of exhilaration and terrified surrender as she felt him blast his first load against her cervix, a squirt of his baby-making batter piercing it to enter her womb, and then the teaspoons of reinforcements that pulsed, wave after wave, from his balls and into her birth canal until, by gravity and pressure, it began to leak out of her in rivulets down the inches of shaft he couldn’t get in.

She trembled at the wonderful feeling of his seed inside her… and her worries melted in bliss as he resumed his thrusting into her shaking form. He paused, and then finally withdrew… just long enough to approach her head with her body. He lifted her by the ass, his wet finger slipping into her anus to surprise her as he balanced her on that finger… and presented her cum-splattered vagina as if it were a meal. The odor was intoxicating and humiliating; she didn’t even know what to say or think as her own snatch neared her face.

“Drink it out,” John commanded, shocking her. She was shocked again as she found her mouth opening, her hot, sticky tongue reaching out… and finally meeting that sullied labia to give herself those testing few licks she hadn’t dared to try since she was little. The flavor of John and her mixed was confusing but exhilarating; this was debasing and fetishized, somehow beyond the those fantasies she thought beyond the pale… and the rapture she saw in his face over the crest of her pubic mound made her want to give it her all. Her mouth joined to her own pussy… and the wave of spunk that greeted her filled her mouth as eagerly as if he had blasted it into her mouth instead of her sex. She drank it just as greedily, her head making soft, gulping noises as she tried to suck it all out. Her back trembled as it was transported down from the flame of her head and into her belly; John continued to finger her anus, letting its trembling grip welcome him as she continued to reach some new plateau of forbidden pleasure inside her.

John waited until she had finally swallowed the last of her meal… before conveying her body back to her chair. Her head went with it, landing in her arms in a reflexive catch, and John decided that’d be just fine. He was upon her before she could get her new bearings; her legs hoisted up and, with his command, her head on her pubic mound, Regan was given a new view of the act of him fucking her, this time with her eyes mere inches away from her clit and the pistoning meat that re-entered her well-fucked hole. Her labia had exploded outward with the pummeling, embarrassing her in a way that no longer registered in this present state of humiliating, exhilarating bliss; the scent of flesh pounding wet flesh filled her nose and she only gasped for air for want to breath, never asking, nor receiving, a break from this brutally close seat.

Eventually John had her hoist her own legs up as he continued to fuck her into the chair, leaving his hands free to pick her head up and, with three fingers, fucking her confused, sullied mouth. Her tongue wrestled against the three male fingers now jabbed against it as he held her sideways… and with his tongue, probed her ear for yet another bizarre sensation. Drool began to leak freely from her mouth as she softly chewed and felt his fingers toying with her while losing herself in another pounding in her box while he toyed with her; her eyes had come out of focus and freely rolled to the back of her head.

Like this he continued to fuck her, enjoying his free use of her body and head as he explored new ways to tease and stimulate her. It wasn’t until he put a second load into her birth canal, now kept from drooling outward by her grip on her body, that he pulled out and aligned his still-hard cock to her brown backdoor.

“Egjahn!” she tried to mumble through his fingers, her drool dripping down on his cum-stained cock.

Smirking, John relented… and instead pulled her head away to stare at her exhausted, hazy-eyed face. “Well then… until you’re ready for that…” He lowered her head… and carried out perhaps the only deviant act Regan had rightfully predicted by shoving his cock against her drool-stained lips. Down it went, past her gagging teeth and tongue to clog her throat… and provide the strangest sensation of suction where physics told him he should have reached the base of her detached head. The sensation was overwhelming; whatever it was, it was desperately trying to suck in and consume John’s cock or, more likely, transfer it to her body and into her esophagus. It was somehow greater than what her natural pocket gave him… and John moaned in surprised pleasure as his sensitive cock was tortured in this incredible hole.

Regan, still lost in her own bliss and attempts to breathe, glanced up at John as his face lowered to meet hers, pained and lost in pleasure as it was… and her heart skipped a beat as she realized it was because of her. Eagerly she continued to try and tongue and inhale his cock; her renewed efforts were overwhelming to John, sending him over the edge in an embarrassingly fast moment as he began to pump seed directly into her guts. The sensation of being filled surprised Regan, but she persisted, continuing to suck even harder while he came. John’s entire body folded around her head, his hands twitching and struggling to keep a hold on her as he stammered, “Oh fuck, Regan, that’s so… oh fuck…!”

She mumbled some kind of pleased remark and moaned in turn as his free hand reached forward and began rubbing her clit with a ferocious thumbing. Like this the two continued as John shot a second batch down her throat; she managed **** breaths around his cock in between orgasms and, with her own squirting from the body still spread eagle on the chair just ahead of John, ended up matting her hair with her own femcum. This worry didn’t break through her determination, however; all the intense pleasure he had instilled in her was finally being paid back, and she intended to make sure he never forgot it was her who managed it! This insane hour had pushed Regan over a precarious edge… and now she was embracing the fall as she continued to urge the third, then the fourth, and then the fifth nut down her throat as she tortured John’s cock with interdimensional deepthroating.

By the end of this overpowering exchange, with John finally collapsing backwards onto the ground with Regan’s head pressed to his chest, both were gasping desperately for breathable air not sullied by the reeking sex they had filled the room with. Regan’s belly bulged slightly with the stomach packed tight with cum; her pussy continued to idly drool what it offered up with the occasional, involuntary clench while her arms continued to hold her legs up and let millions of sperm slowly pack into the amphitheater of her womb. Fluids stained every bit of furniture and some of the books; no cleric spirit bothered to enter until they knew they were done, and even then they hesitated for fear that they’d start anew.

John finally gathered enough of his senses to bring Regan’s head up to face him as he laid down. Held aloft as she was, she felt secure in his grip in a way she never would have an hour ago… and even as her own face was a sticky mess of their juices, she couldn’t help but smile with a smug sense of satisfaction at her master.

“Ah… ah meant tah… ah meant… somethin’ else in mind…”

“O… Oh…?”

“W-Well… when I said ‘take,’ I meant like… maybe a nice dinner and a movie or some such… y’know? Something more… romantic…”

“You…” John furrowed his brow even as he grinned, replying, “You took off your clothes when you asked me to take you…”

“Ah… well, ah also meant… that... but y’know, with the usual… stuff. Ah’m not very good at… communicatin’ ah guess… hah…” Her face glowed a bit brighter as she laughed nervously.

John slowly lowered her head to his chest, this time high enough to tuck his chin onto her scalp as he did so. With her ear to his heart, she could hear the soft thumping inside… and something strangely warm about that, even in this sordid state, made her smile in satisfaction.

“That’s alright… I’m not too good with romance,” John confessed.