Tryst on the Balcony

High atop the Dark Tower, the Prince takes his female companion roughly. She is surprised at his sudden turn from charming host to cruel villain. Soon, her clothes are ripped to tatters as the Prince enters her tender flesh with ever increasing brutality. The lady's breasts bounce like dangling fruits in a stiff wind as each vicious thrust grinds her mound against the railing of the Balcony.

As her screams are swallowed by the endless night, her moans pass through the thin air and disappear beneath the black stars. How could a member of royalty do this to her? How could it have all gone so horribly wrong? He was a beast, an animal, a raping wild thing assaulting her sensitive cunt with his raging cock. Her pussy became slick and dripping wet as tears of shame ran down her face.

Encouraged by her lustful failure and loss of control over her growing arousal, the Prince redoubled the tireless effort of his lovemaking. He slammed into her now, forceful and rampant. Her aching pussy wept with slippery ardor as she denied the very approach of an orgasm that threatened her sanity. The sounds of their demented tryst were grotesque, a squelching splatter of sickening spurts.

Then, as the young noblewoman began to quiver and quake in a dangerous ecstacy, it happened. The Prince cast aside his guise. His skin split open and ripped along his back, revealing horror. It was then that the Lady knew her fate was sealed. Huge black spines sharp as scythes wrapped around her naked form. She screamed as ebon tendrils unfurled from beyond and gripped her limbs with a terrible strength.

The Royal rod inside her swelled and blackened until it became a bloated wriggling worm-thing. A dozen thin whipcords pierced her anus and wove themselves together inside her, then pulled her ass wide for the insertion of their giant pod-like cousin. Another thick tubular probe drilled into her already painfully stretched cunt and immediately shot out loads of disgusting slimy liquid ropes. The greasy demonic sperm coursing directly into her womb.

The poor girl screamed and screamed, her loins once again shaking in involuntary delight. The thing that was once the Prince spread it's iridescent wings and took to the air, the girl held firm within a cage of black spines that served to ambulate the insectoid abomination. Not once during the long flight did the tentacles abate for one moment.

Some say she was carried to the far mountainside to be a breeder drone for some hive of horrors. Others say the nameless girl was devoured in some moment of terrible hunger, or dropped into the gray waves of the great lake of Hali. Whatever the truth, she was never seen again...

Daughters of Decadence

They were girls at first, some drawn from the fine families of the nobility, others chosen for their beauty from the common folk. Fine daughters of the people, ladies of breeding and virtue, given over to the convent. Their parents were told that they would be sworn, obedient to vows of chastity.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

Some smiling mothers knew exactly what occured behind the shuttered windows and closed gates of the convent, for they too had experienced the delightful foulness and corruption within it's unholy walls. Fornication; with beasts; with demons; with cruel servants of darkness; this was the fate of the young novice girls. Years of rape and torment awaited them.

The novices came dressed in the white habits of newly minted virgins, and driven like cattle into the slaughterhouse. One by one they were taken into the confessional booth and locked in. As the girl whispered her sins, dripping slimy things came out and violated her. She was forced to speak all manner of secret deeds and hidden thoughts to the tendrils invading her tender flesh.

The musky scent of mating lust from the tentacles seemed to hypnotize the slender ladies into a trance of religious ecstasy. They shivered and quaked with pleasure, weeping tears of joy from their eyes and weeping slick juices of lust from their newly opened pussies.

Elder sisters looked on with knowing smiles, remembering their first time in communion with their Lord and taking unto themselves his holy sacraments. Their cunts too were wet and ready for fornication, the wicked pleasures of defilement and submission to that inhuman master who's name cannot be uttered.

It was a secret brothel, this convent. A temple of whoredom and filth that existed only to engender a soul of degrading slavery in all the daughters of decadence. They worshipped only pleasure, forcing themselves to acts of obscene blasphemy.

Her union with the divine complete.

Her womb filled with new life...

All Vows of Chastity forgotton and shattered

The Ravishment of the Sacred continues...

Convent of Hell, Slut Nuns encounter their lusts made manifest

the inevitable consequence of fornication

A Nun and her True Husband

The Garden of Unearthly Delights

What hellish domain is this, where the vines creep like serpents and the flowers gape open like hungry vagina dentata, ready to devour all? It is the Royal Garden, and within it a lady of the court named Tulip is enveloped by some rustling leafy thing, it's numerous stamens and pistils penetrate her orifices and bring her to screaming orgasm. As Tulip gasps and moans, another girl, Lily, daughter of the Countess Filimachnarae, enters the pebbled paths of the Garden. Without warning, she is dragged up by her ankles and wrists up into a copse of tall trees where her screaming lingers for hours. Her trials and torments endured unseen but not unheard.

A maid of the Palace, Blossom often enjoys sitting in the garden, the sweet smell of the flowering blooms engendering a lust between her thighs. She will spread her loins wide and rub herself silly before accepting a creeping vine's pulsing pod within her secret heat. Quickly Blossom is nearly crushed by the mass of roots and jism spitting plant parts that come to surround the delicate flesh of her limbs.

In another part of the Garden, Foxglove the Huntress wanders. She is lithe and fit as befits a maiden of the forest, and her dark desires have been aroused by rumors of the Palace. She soon finds them true as her clothing is shredded and her smooth cunt forced open by an invading plant tendril of mindless insemination. Her womb swells, as does all her sisters of the Garden, with new life... seedlings... seed pods to breed yet more poisonous specimens for the Royal Court to enjoy.

At the center of the Royal Garden is Rose. She is impaled upon a giant briar. Her blood weeps down the cruel thorns piercing her flesh. There is no flower upon them but her. She almost seems to glow a rosy pink hue as befits her namesake. Rose, the thorns and her pool of blood feeding the roots that impale her; all are covered in a great crystal dome. She is a Rose under Glass.

Why was she placed there? Is it some punishment for crimes real or imagined? Is she there to serve some sadistic vision of art, bound and forced to submit to the vision of a madman? These questions mean little, for Rose is now a Flower of the Garden, now and forever...

The Breeding Pits

There is a place in the palace, far from the Baroque finery and smiling degeneracy of the subtle court. Below even the Dungeons where innocent virgins are taken to be whipped into submission, defiled and then further subjected to almost every sort of depravity.

It is there that the worst horror unfolds. Women chained above the charnel voids in the earth and stone. There are small wells, that plunge deep into the bowels of the soil. There are great stadiums with no floor, only a sinkhole that gapes wide and black. There are tremendous chasms, round and vast enough to be filled with roaring winds.

Above these are suspended women, fertile, often so heavily drugged with aphrodesiacs as to drive them mad with ecstacy at the slightest touch. These women are bred forcibly... the abominations from below reaching up to dwarf the flesh of humanity with their gargantuan tentacles.

Raped are these lusty wenches, taken by inhuman and demonic forces so large and terrifying as to beggar all description. Often, in these underground stadiums, masked revellers will applaud these acts of alien insemination and commence orgies among the audience. The victim hangs shackled from her chains, belly gravid with spawn.

These brides of the abhorred must then carry in their wombs the fruit of their disgusting lusts. Larval embryos of wormlike shape. These creatures, yearning to be born, squirm and squiggle within their human mother's womb. Often, the brood within a breeder slave will weigh more than the slave herself.

Birthing is a terrible process, each thing slithers out of it's mother, some drop to the pits far below, others crawl on her flesh and gorge themselves on her milk before flapping away. Sometimes the court will take a pregnant slave and induce her labor with sorcery, laughing at her birth agonies. Depraved ladies of the court will sometimes take up the newborn larvae and use them to pleasure themselves. Even to the point of taking them anew into their noble wombs to grow and mutate into greater monstrousness.

Thus is one secret mystery of the Palace revealed unto you.

Squelch Series

The Beginning...

From the primordial morass of the early universe, it arose... with only one purpose... to BREED... Soon, small portions of this ancient evil called life arose upon a planet called Earth. The females there were ripe for breeding, and it would call them unto itself.