Author's note: The Following is part of a story I did as a birthday gift for a friend. She wanted me to write a story about Rylo Ren of Star Wars and her original character. I don't own the character of Ikol but I'm rather proud of how this first chapter turned out.
[This is an interesting story in that it's a way to explore the demons of codependency that tormented my romantic life for so long and also do something along the gory and fantastic. A huge amount of inspiration came from the following music video.
this is the first part and the rest will be released as I deem fit.
As a final note this story will contain violence, sexuality, abusive relationships as well as harsh language. Viewer discretion is advised. ]
this is the first part and the rest will be released as I deem fit.
As a final note this story will contain violence, sexuality, abusive relationships as well as harsh language. Viewer discretion is advised. ]
I woke up stark naked on a stone tablet with manacles on my wrists and legs. My titties heaved as I breathed the sulfurous, ashen air of Hell. Boob sweat was at red-alert levels.
Scanning around I saw the chamber filled with bodies of corpses, heaps of shit left by the lower demons and mutated zombie creatures ambling around aimlessly.
As soon as I saw the hell beasts come at me open mouthed and drooling, I felt the pull of the dark side; and boy was it fucking good. Juices flooded my pussy and adrenaline turned my blood into poison. I took strength from the darkness and pulled with my arm at the iron manacles strong enough to hold a Wookie.
The zombie abominations got close, close enough for me to see the chunks of flesh in their teeth and the fact that they had penises for eyes; I’d add them to my collection.
Snap!
The chain around my wrist snapped and I lunged at the nearest Hell-bitch. My fist caved in the front of its face like a rotting gourd and the smell of blood made me cum a little. The stupid, blind, dick eyed thing howled and gnashed its yellow and black teeth.
With a predator’s grin I grabbed the twin dicks growing from its eye socked and pulled; the motley, moldy, stinking creature’s head crashed into the stone tabled and exploded into pulp. That shut that cunt up.
Flexing my arm and legs the chains fell off. The dick zombies were nearly on me, their eye erections turgid and stained with dick-cheese. I’d be happy to put them out of their misery.
They were stupid, slow and worst of all male and I ripped and tore like only a Night Sister can. My long red nails were sharp and their spongy bones stood no chance.
When I was done, the walls of the cave were splattered with guts, blood and scrotums. Moisture ran down my legs as the aftershocks of killing men or male creatures made me feel so whole and alive.
My clothing and effects were in a pile at the base of the sacrificial slab. As much fun as it was to splash blood on myself naked I felt I was a bit more terrifying in full Night Sister gear; black robes, high heels impossible for a non-force sensitive to wear and necklace made of dried penises and shrunken heads. My makeup was fucked but my lipstick went so well with the demon dick blood.
Briefly, I adjusted my hair in the reflection on a polished iron door and ripped the door off its hinges with a force push.
Showtime.
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