Varron, a demon of gluttony, in his vigilance laid watch over the vast breeding pits below him.
An entire underground structure made from living flesh and bone, with the single purpose to make an army.
He watched with lust as the demonic slaves below, both male, female, and in between were savagely milked of their sexual fluids by strange otherworldly tendrils who left no hole unattended.
The male demons were roughly drained of their corrupted seed by pulsating tendrils that wrapped around their demonic cocks, constantly being sucked for every last drop, whilst the females were in a constant cycle of impregnation, incubation, and birth, never once being given a second of respite from the constant fucking the tendrils provided.
This was all as it should be, Varron thought, giving a wicked cackle as his own thick hyena dick was being milked as well by the tendrils, he could feel it, it’s flesh wrapping around his own, pleasuring him all the while sending even smaller tendrils deep inside his urethra, stretching his own cock hole to it’s limits.
Even the guards were not spared from the breeding. But of course why wouldn’t they? Varron shifted his position slightly on his guard post, raising his hips slightly to allow one of the tendrils to penetrate his tail hole.
He gave out another ugly laugh as he thrusted against the two tendrils that were violating his animalistic body, laughing even as a third phallic tendril emerged from the wall, entering and filling up his maw with it’s restorative juices, all breeders had to always be in top condition to serve their purpose after all.
In reality, Varron wasn’t even really needed, the horrid light would return before any of them even thought of escaping. Neither he nor the breeding slaves cared, after thousands of years of corruption, there was not a single trace of humanity within Varron or his fellow slaves. This was their purpose, to be used and fucked, and they loved every second of it. Thetitle of guard was little more than that, a title, all that changed was that he got to sit on his own private balcony and get his own personal view of the breeding below him.
Varron let out a feral whine that was muffled by the thick flesh tendril that was gagging him, relishing the feeling of his cock orgasming for what must’ve been the hundredth time this day. He could feel the tendril around his phallus pulsating in glee as his virile corrupted juices were collected, most likely to be used in the impregnation of another female or two. Varron often wondered how many children he had produced, how many of them were being used as breeding slaves like him, and most importantly, how many had he impregnated.
Most of offspring produced in the breeding pits tended to be rushed off and trained as soldiers for one of the Demonlords, light fear their names. But of course that was only most of them. His cock throbbed with the thought of all of his own children he must’ve impregnated over the years. He began lightly thrusting into the tendril which had already begun milking him again.
The fluids the tendrils fed him ensured that he’d have plenty of energy and nutrition for an entire days worth of breeding. Judging by how viciously the tendrils were fucking and milking him, he assumed that his session had just started, although there was no real way to be sure, time in the breeding pits was a blur.
After an eternity of blissful milking, fluids being pumped and sucked out of him constantly, did the tendrils finally relent, releasing him from their gasp and dropping him onto the fleshy floor of his guardpost, his form no longer being dangled above the ground by his hosts. The tendrils around him began to sink back into the organic walls surrounding him, leaving him alone for the time being.
He panted, his naked form covered in sweat and sexual fluids. As a guard, his sole perk, if you could call it that, it seemed more like a punishment to him, was a single hour break from the tendrils. Varron desperately wished he could be one of the slaves down below, for their days were completely filled with breeding, but of course sacrifices had to be made, if he was to ascend any higher up the demonic hierarchy, he had to take any promotion he could land.
He had all the time in the world, and soon enough he would become a demonlord, no, the Demonlord, the singular, most powerful demon in the entirety of the unholy world spanning empire around him. But now, he simply had to take what he was given, besides it’s not like he couldn’t let his mind rub wild as he waited for his fucking to resume.
His long tongue flopped as his mind, still very much clouded with lust, poured through his
memories. Unbeknownst to him, Varron’s pattern of thought during his breaks were the exact same every day, not that he would care.
First he would remember his days as a simple witch’s familiar, a normal feral hyena, fighting alongside his mistress against the dark god and his forces.
Varron grinned as he thought of those times, laughing at his past self’s foolishness, as he began to idly stroke his already used cock once more, eager to relive what came next.
The Dark God was sealed, a terrible time indeed, and his ignorant past self cheered alongside his master, glad that the world was going to enter an age of light. Then of course, something happened, the light dimmed, becoming reduced into a small mote of light, and darkness suddenly coated the world. All their efforts had been wasted, thankfully.
He began working his tool faster as the memories although having happened so long ago, were still vivid and fresh in his mind.
The foul light mysteriously gone, darkness seeping into every corner of the land. Corruption from the Dark God, leaking out from his sealed prison, blessing all with his gift.
His mistress was stripped of her holy magics and was turned into a Demonlord’s pet. As for him, he gave in, of course he did, the corruption’s seduction was too strong.
Varron was getting close, whining and whimpering to himself as he remembered being ravaged by all manners of demons, their musk clouding his senses, their hands exploring and grabbing as they pleased as they throughly corrupted every inch of his body.
Varron came at the blissful memory, the wonderful memory of his rebirth into a proper tool for demon kind.
He barely even felt the splatter of his cum, as his corrupted demon cock stained his fur even further at the memory. Not that it would matter, Varron’s body was already stained and dried with the cum of various demons who used him, and was rarely cleaned, if at all. Much less fur and more a dried sticky mess that he wore as a badge of honor.
It had been so long ago since those times, and since then his body, mind, and soul were singlehandedly devoted to his role as a breeding slave.
It had been for a millennia, and would continue to do so, his corrupted demonic body ensuring that he’d never wither away from old age.
His break was almost over, after decades of having one hour to himself, the only skill he developed was the ability to keep track of that single hour until his duties would recommence. Soon enough the tendrils would return to milk him for his essence, something he was quite excited for.
It would happen, only five seconds left.
Wagging his tail and closing his eyes as he eagerly waited to feel the grip of the tendrils upon him once more.
Four.
His cock was already quite spent, hopefully the tendrils won’t mind, they’ll just have to feed him more of their delicious juice to get him back up to peak condition.
Three.
How many more slaves would his cum impregnate today?
Two.
Hopefully some of them would be his own children.
One.
It was happening, the tendrils are coming now...
Varron waited, and then waited, lying on the floor in suspense.
This... was unprecedented. The tendrils like him were quite good at keeping track of his break time. The second it ended they should have already been wrapping around him.
Something was wrong.
For the first time in a millennia, fear, confusion, and anxiety filled his mind.
Unsure of what to do, like a lost puppy who lost his master, he laid there blankly for a while, a long time, not wanting to leave his guard post.
He could still hear the cries and moans of the slaves below, everything seemed to be business as usual, yet his own tendrils weren’t here?
What was going on.
Impatient and envious of his peers who were still being fucked, he pushed himself onto his two legs, dripping hyena cock splashing a few droplets onto the floor as he looked around his balcony.
The slaves were still in their proper position, he even saw some new faces being milked or impregnated, yet he was left unattended.
There was no actual way out from his post, his balcony that was formed into the flesh wall was just that, his station where he would spend every hour of his day at, an accessible way out was simply not needed...
What was happening? Varron’s frustration was beginning to grow.
Then, suddenly, Varron noticed something, no, someone, staring up at him from below. They stood admits a sea of sex slaves, completely left alone by the breeding tendrils... and Varron from his position could make out a confident, knowing smile...
The person staring up at him, meeting his eyes was....