Crown of the Endless Flesh

Chapter 12: Hell’s Revolt

The Court had never been so silent.

Even the orgy pit had gone still—bodies tangled in blood and sweat, but unmoving. Eyes all turned toward the blackened gates of my throne room.

They opened without sound.

And in stepped the one being I’d never let fuck me.

Until now.

Malruth.

Duke of Hell’s Eighth Circle.
Branded in molten iron.
Wings of shadow and teeth.
Cock like a weapon forged from sin.
The only thing that had once made me moan in pain.

He stepped in slow. Dripping with heat. His bare chest carved in demonic sigils that pulsed like open mouths. He smelled like sulfur, cum, and raw fucking rage.

“You’ve gone too far, Seraphine,” he growled, voice like crushed bone. “You forget who made you.”

I stood slowly from my throne, cum dripping down my thighs, Prime Angel chained beside me, still panting.

“No,” I whispered. “You forget who you made.”

I stepped down naked, slick, glowing from divine violation, power leaking from every pore.

“You thought I’d be your weapon,” I purred, circling him. “Your little demon whore. Your loyal cunt.”

I dragged a nail down his chest.

“But now you’re scared.”

His hand shot out—fast as shadow—and choked me. Slammed me to the stone. My wings flared, my thighs spread, his massive body pinning me with pure wrath.

“Scared?” he hissed, cock hardening against my belly. “No. I came to break you. To make you beg.”

I grinned.

“Then fuck me, Malruth.”



He tore into me. No lube. No warning. Just his cock—black, pulsing, angry—shoving into my cunt and stretching me open.

I screamed.

He growled like a beast, one hand wrapped around my throat, the other slamming into my hips as he fucked me. Hard. Brutal. Possessive.

“This pussy was mine before Heaven ever tasted it,” he snarled.

I moaned, arching, legs wrapping around him.

“Then take it, Daddy.”

He roared, flipping me over, shoving my face into the stone. His cock slammed into me from behind, deeper, angrier, and then—his fingers slid between my cheeks.

I grinned through the pain.

He spit, spread, and shoved two thick fingers into my ass while his cock ruined my cunt.

“Too tight?” I taunted, blood dripping from my lips.

“I’ll split you open,” he growled.

And he did.

He shoved into my ass, thick cock sliding into my second hole while my cunt gaped and leaked. I screamed, drooled, clawed at the floor, and came. Hard. Shaking. My vision flickered.

But I wasn’t done.

I twisted, flipped him, and sat on his face.

“Eat,” I ordered, grinding my soaked cunt onto his mouth.

He obeyed.

Growling, biting, devouring me while his cock twitched, leaking precum over his own chest. His tongue was rough, long, sliding deep into my pussy as he forced me to grind and scream his name.

The Court watched.

Every demon. Every corrupted angel.

Watching their Queen and their Duke fuck like war.

And then I stood. Straddled his cock. Slammed down.

I rode him.

Savage. Blood-spattered. Nails raking his chest, hips pounding, my tits bouncing with every brutal thrust. He grabbed my ass and fucked up into me, both of us roaring, lost in war and lust and power.

We came at the same time—me gushing down his cock, him flooding my guts with molten cum.

When I stood, dripping, ruined, glowing—I put a foot on his chest and pressed down.

“You want my throne?” I panted. “Then next time, bring chains.”