Crown of the Endless Flesh

Chapter 7: The One Who Fell First

They whispered his name in the cracks of Hell’s oldest stones—Vorthas.

Once a god.

Now a monster.

He had been worshipped before the first angel sang. Cast down when his appetite for flesh and power drowned entire realms. Banished, chained in the lowest circle where even demons feared to tread.

But I was no demon.

I was Seraphine—queen, goddess, whore, and warbringer.

And I wanted to fuck a god.

The throne room reeked of lust and death, blood still dripping from the mouths of my chained pets—Caliel on her knees beside me, her cunt still twitching from the last brutal session. The air shifted. Cold. Timeless. Wrong.

Then he stepped from the shadows.

Seven feet tall. Skin carved like obsidian and gold. His muscles coiled like serpents beneath his flesh, and his cock—fuck—it swung like a weapon between his thighs, thick as my wrist, long enough to choke a dragon. His eyes were endless pits, burning with madness and hunger. His horns curled like a crown. His voice…

“You are the one they kneel to now?” he rasped.

I didn’t speak.

I stood.

Stripped.

And walked naked down the stairs of my throne.

“I don’t want your worship,” I said, blood dripping from my thighs. “I want your submission.”

His laugh shook the room. “Then come and take it.”

He moved like lightning, faster than anything I’d ever faced. He slammed me to the cold obsidian floor, my wrists pinned above my head. His cock pressed against my soaked cunt, and my body betrayed me—I was already ready for him.

“Gods don’t kneel, little slut,” he growled.

“I’m not asking,” I whispered. “I’m fucking telling.”

He thrust in.

And the world shattered.

I screamed, bucked, clawed—he was too big, too brutal, splitting me open like I was nothing. Every inch he gave me stole my breath. My body trembled, flooded, dripped. Pain and pleasure blurred. He rammed into me, hard enough to crack the stone beneath my back, each thrust a declaration of his dominance.

But I didn’t beg.

I bit him.

My teeth sank into his shoulder, drawing godsblood that sizzled on my tongue like molten gold. He roared, grabbed my throat, and started choking me as he fucked me harder, faster.

I came, gushing, my legs trembling, my cunt clenching around his godcock like a vice. He didn’t stop. Didn’t slow. He flipped me over, shoved into my ass, and I screamed again, eyes rolling back as he drove himself in balls-deep, my hole stretched to its limits.

“Say it,” he hissed. “Say I own you.”

I laughed, spitting blood, grinding back against him.

“I own you, Vorthas.”

He slammed me down, grabbed my hair, and came—hard. His cum poured into my ass like lava, so much it spilled out, soaking my thighs, dripping to the floor. And still, he stayed buried.

But then…

He knelt.

To me.

Panting, cock twitching inside me, blood on his lips.

“You,” he breathed. “You’re the fucking end.”

I rose off his cock slowly, cum drooling from my ruined holes, and stepped onto his chest.

“You’re mine now,” I said, grinding my dripping cunt against his mouth. “Lick it all up, god.”

And he did.