Fleshcrafting Technomancer 63 Crowning The Herald R-18

And if before, the 72 society members observed him with interest—awaiting the final stage to indulge in a full-blown orgy—the men now stood with utmost reverence while the females' eyes gleamed with fanatical adoration. Regardless of their position in the society—during their initiation and various cult meetings—they all witnessed Adramelech in his fehl form.

But to them, his monstrous form did not differ from divinity incarnate. Adramelech was their G.o.d, and the Grand Herald the dark messiah, living avatar of their deity meant to lead them all to eternal glory! Never did they expect that in their generation, the Grand Herald would appear!

The Dark Eden Society's true leader, Adramelech's mortal voice and hand, was crowned before their eyes! What a glorious day! Even the three female chairs couldn't wait for Kilian to proceed so they could put themselves at his feet and satisfy his depravity. But before them, the six ladies standing at the extreme left and right of the platform stood and lined-up before Kilian.

Though devoid of magical powers, those were no common girls, but maidens of ancient houses prepared solely for occasions such as this. Belonging to a caste of their own, the Dark Eden Society referred to them as the aistis, ladies dedicated solely to Adramelech and his herald.

In typical initiations, they'd pour the Elixir of Decadence into the pool, and help the new initiates bathe in the Fehl Prince's profane grace by singing Adramelech-gifted songs. While their inhibition collapsed, the fehl's dark glory would fill the initiates' minds. They would then proceed with the orgy. But in the herald's coronation, their role became different. And knowing that this unexpected day would forever change their lives, the aistis didn't dare delay. And dropping their cloaks on the ground, revealed six stainless, tantalizing figures.

Though all stood between 18 and 20, some possessed large, milky white b.r.e.a.s.t.s, able to fit a DD cup while others could barely fit a C. But while their figures's shapes varied, all neared divine proportion, giving the voluptuous girls striking hourgla.s.s figures, and the more modest ones a pert glow, and irresistible appeal.

Before such a row, monks would abjure their faith, honest men turn beasts, and Kilians would step forward to claim their prizes. So step forward Kilian did. Stretching out his hands, he invited two of the girls to uncloak him and take off his clothes. In a flash, they left their ranks and flanked their herald.

With the tenderness of caring lovers, they pulled down Kilian's cloak, letting the harmless emerald flames brush their porcelain skin and fill them with aching needs. As they unfastened Kilian's belt and pulled down his pants, the two aistis found themselves tracing his body, eyes glued on his amber hues as if he was not a man, but a marvel sent by the heavens to bring them into the embrace of dark salvation.

In tandem, the remaining four joined their hands in prayer signs, triggering a ma.s.sive surge of purple light from the center of the rectangular pool. A light dome shafted into the sky, revealing a brown urn whose lid opened before the cabal of fehl wors.h.i.+ppers. Starry kaleidoscopic liquid poured from the urn, tumbling into the pool and tinting it in the same multicolor hue.

Stripped of all clothing, Kilian wrapped his hands around the two ladies' waists, made eyes at the remaining four, and strode toward the pool. Taking the hint, they followed his tracks, and together, the seven dove in. Fehl Magic surged from the pool's core, bathing the seven of them, and marking the ladies' b.r.e.a.s.t.s with an illusory, chained Mark of Adramelech.

Aware of what it entailed, they didn't flinch, instead sticking out their tongues toward Kilian. Arousal filled the air. Dozens of men and women alike wished to just drop their pants and rut till dawn. But in this setting, they dared not.

In synch, the 66 High Emissaries and 6 Archons stretched their hands toward the night sky, chanting eldritch songs that made lavender fumes billow from all sides and enshroud the pool. Ignoring it all, Kilian indulged in a rare moment of pure decadence, with no thought beside sinking in the hold of the temptation surrounding him.

Sultry ragged breaths buffeted his face, chest, and sides, speaking tales of the aistis' aching desires.

"Your Eminence, from infancy to maturity, we've lived to serve you. Please take us all, grace us all, and lead us to the world of fehl rule," they whispered in Kilian's ears. A weaker man would have lost himself. Yet, when those words echoed, Kilian maintained full control, acting only to bring the ritual to the end.

"Very well," he replied, held the chin of the aisti at his left, and pushed his lips onto hers. Her eager tongue stuck out, entangling with Kilian as she closed her eyes, and let raw l.u.s.t guide her moves. For minutes, the girl relished in Kilian's lips, breeding jealousy in the hearts of her long-time sisters.

Sensing it, he paused, broke the kiss, and switched to the one at his right. She too stood ready, welcoming his lips into hers with a pa.s.sion that didn't lose to her sister's. The m.u.f.fled, mes.h.i.+ng sound of their coiling tongues mixed with the occasional gulping, intensifying the needs of the neglected.

Eager to claim their prize, two flicked their tongues across Kilian's nipples, two others went underwater to claim his c.o.c.k, and the last stroked his b.a.l.l.s while las.h.i.+ng her tongue on his neck. The fresh, dripping juice of their c.u.n.ts poured into the pool, fueling its debauched scent, and putting the observers' faith to the test.

At Kilian's left and right, the flankers rubbed their soaked nether lips up and down his hips—making his c.o.c.k harden from the stimulation—and spring to full mast before its polishers' l.u.s.t-glazed eyes.

"Your Eminence, allow us to polish you," they whispered in Kilian's ears, tempting the devil in his heart, and the fire in his c.o.c.k. The fire answered. His c.o.c.k-veins pulsed in expectation, powering the meat-lance that towered above its soon to be victims with the imposing girth of a stallion.

At first, the ladies ran their tongues across Kilian's c.o.c.k-veins, occasionally kissing the sides and underside of his c.o.c.k. But soon, they gave up whatever restraint remained, and competed for every inch of the profane meat at their disposal. Sensing the astis in his arms grow restless, Kilian gave their b.u.t.t cheeks a good squeeze, and snuck his fingers into their c.u.n.ts, striking them where they wanted the most.

"Anh...anh...ahh!" Loud moans and slurping sounds soon intertwined within the pool, forcing the weak-willed observers to stroke themselves, whereas the stronger ones held on.

Like a virtuoso, Kilian's fingers went between the four crowding his torso, avoiding only the two polis.h.i.+ng his b.a.l.l.s and rod. One slightly pushed his c.o.c.k up, giving herself better access to his b.a.l.l.s while the other seized the opportunity, stretched her lips as far as she could, and impaled her throat on Kilian's c.o.c.k.

Almost choking on the ma.s.sive meat-slab, the girl took a second to adjust to the girth while her cult-sister suckled Kilian's b.a.l.l.s with gentle care. The rutting stag in him took over, and pulling out his fingers, he pushed the c.o.c.ksucker off his rod, lifted her into the air, and rammed her right on his starving meat-slab!

"Ohhh!" The girl whose name Kilian didn't even know, groaned in a mixture of pain and eldritch bliss as Adramelech and Ashera's marks pumped her body with overwhelming waves of fehl energies, and turned the first time's pain into an unforgettable dream.

Throwing her head back, she submitted to Kilian's grasp, and holding onto her waist, he drove his corrupt meat-slab up and down her gripping walls.

Tight! Oh so very tight!

At first, Kilian felt like a prisoner attempting to force his hand between bar cells. But the beauty of the female body revealed itself, and though mind-numbed from his meat's heat and fehl might, the girls' walls expanded and contracted to perfection, giving Kilian the squeezing only maidens could provide.

The pounding thus began!