You reap what your breeding sows

THE HUNTER'S GAZE – THE INCUBUS' NOCTURNAL ASCENSION

The neon glow of Torino’s underbelly painted the streets in hues of electric blue and sickly yellow, casting long shadows that slithered like serpents across rain-slicked cobblestones.

"So early in the night, to say that life is baccalà..."

Stefano moved through the labyrinthine alleys of San Salvario like a wraith—his presence a paradox of predatory stillness and coiled ****.

Breed

Corrupt

Dominate

The Osiris ring pulsed against his finger, its corrupted divinity humming with each new conquest, each fresh womb claimed. His incubus senses drank in the night—every whisper of fabric, every hitch of breath, every frantic heartbeat of prey yet unaware of the storm about to break upon them.

THE BARISTA'S CORRUPTION – A CAFÉ'S DEFILEMENT

The night air hung thick with the scent of roasted coffee beans and the musk of Danila’s arousal, a heady cocktail that made Stefano’s fangs throb with anticipation.

"Mierda, Carmelo left me alone again... Hijo de puta, is this how you treat your wife? Leaving me alone at night?" A mental echo, dripping with frustration and anger, it seemed feminism had done a number on her this time.

The Spanish barista—her voluptuous curves barely contained by the Café Nero uniform—was still trembling from her first violation, her hazel eyes glazed with a mixture of shock and lingering pleasure. The glass door behind her bore the foggy imprint of her body, streaked with the sweat and slickness of her **** ecstasy.

Stefano’s fingers traced the curve of her jaw, his touch feather-light yet commanding.

"Recover," he murmured, his voice laced with hypnotic venom.

Danila’s breath hitched as the command slithered into her mind, her pupils dilating further as the fog of post-coital haze dissipated. Her limbs, which had been limp and pliant mere seconds ago, now moved with eerie precision. She straightened her ruined skirt, adjusted her bra—now sticky with Stefano’s spend—and reached for the keys with steady hands.

"Open the café," Stefano ordered, his golden eyes gleaming in the dim neon glow of the streetlights.

Danila obeyed without hesitation.

The café’s interior was a shrine to order and routine—gleaming espresso machines, neatly stacked cups, the faint aroma of cinnamon and vanilla lingering in the air. But tonight, it would become a temple of depravity.

The Second Claiming – The Countertop Defilement

Stefano didn’t wait for the door to lock behind them before he struck.

His hand fisted in Danila’s brunette curls, yanking her head back as he slammed her chest-first onto the polished counter. Her J-cup tits flattened against the cold marble, her nipples pebbling through the thin fabric of her uniform.

"Mierda—!" she gasped, her fingers scrabbling for purchase.

Stefano’s chuckle was a dark rumble as he hiked her skirt up once more, revealing the slick, swollen mess he’d left between her thighs.

"You’re still dripping," he observed, the incubus' claws dragging through her soaked folds before plunging two digits inside.

Danila arched, a broken moan escaping the voluptuous milf's luscious lips as his fingers curled, stroking her G-spot deep within her.

"P-por favor—!"

Stefano ignored her half-hearted plea, his free hand ripping open the buttons of her tight blouse. The fabric parted like tissue paper, her heavy fat tits spilling free, the pierced nipples peaked, begging for attention.

"You serve coffee all day," he mused, his claws tracing the underside of her breasts. "Tonight, you’ll serve me."

His cock—still glistening with her juices—slapped against her ass before plunging into her drenched cunt in one brutal thrust.

Danila screamed, her nails scoring the countertop as Stefano pounded into her with piston-like precision.

The Defilement

"D-DIO MIO!!!"

The Espresso Machine: Stefano wrenched her head back, pushing her tongue onto the steam wand before shoving it against her clit—Danila convulsed, the Spanish beauty's shrill scream muffled by her own tits as she squirted across the machine

*PLAP!*

*PLAP!!*

*PLAP!*

The Milk Frother: He filled the pitcher with the voluptuous milf's squirt, frothing it like cream before dumping the salty mixture into the coffee beans.

"AAAAH, S-SI PAPI!!"

The Cups: Stefano lifted her onto the counter, the hungry slut moaned as her fat ass nestled in a stack of porcelain, Stefano fucked her senseless, his taintedseed dripping into the pristine cups below

The Final Blow – The Husband’s Stash

Between violent thrusts, Stefano growled his next command.

"Where’s the money, puta?"

Danila, her mind fogged with pleasure and hypnosis, whimpered out the answer.

"B-behind the—ah!—the painting…"

Stefano withdrew with a wet pop, leaving her gaping and empty as he strode to the back office. The cheap Caravaggio replica concealed a wall safe—amateurish, but enough to deter common thieves.

His claws made quick work of the lock.

"Well well well, what a nice catch..."

Inside, bundles of 500-euro notes sat neatly stacked—5,000 euros in total, the husband’s emergency fund.

Stefano tossed the cash into his coat pocket before returning to the whimpering barista.

The Last Seed – The Uniform’s Ruin

Danila was sprawled across the counter now, her uniform ruined, the curvy barista's makeup smeared, her voluptuous sinful body glazed in a mixture of sweat, squirt, and demonic cum.

Stefano flipped her onto her knees, his hands gripping her wide hips as he aligned himself once more.

"Open."

Danila obeyed, her mouth falling open as Stefano pissed a golden stream down her throat.

"HMMMPH!!"

She gagged, her throat working to swallow as he grunted in satisfaction.

"Now clean yourself up," he ordered, slapping her ass for good measure.

Danila staggered to her feet, the cheating wife's legs shaking as she wiped her face with a coffee filter.

Stefano adjusted his coat, his hunger sated—for now.

"Until next time, hermosa."

He vanished into the night, leaving behind a ruined café, a defiled woman, and 5,000 euros lighter in the cucked husband’s safe.