Crown of the Endless Flesh

Chapter 6: Chains of the Damned

They came at twilight, crawling from the cracks beneath the city—the demon lords.

I’d made too much noise. Fucked too many angels. Burned too many holy bodies in the streets. Hell doesn’t like competition.

And I was starting to look like a queen.

The first one that showed himself was Maraxxus, a hulking mass of muscle, horns, and polished onyx skin. His cock was already out—massive, veined, drooling precum like a weapon. Behind him came his siblings—twins with serpent tongues and curved, black-bladed chains, and the last... oh, the last was a succubus with four breasts, eyes of molten gold, and a voice that purred like a razor through velvet.

“Seraphine,” she cooed. “Hell has noticed you.”

I stood there on a throne of angel corpses, blood still drying on my thighs, Caliel collapsed at my feet, naked and ruined. I met their stares with a grin.

“About fucking time.”

They didn’t ask. They took.

Maraxxus moved first, grabbing my throat and lifting me into the air like I weighed nothing. He slammed me down onto a stone altar that erupted from the ground—carved with ancient sigils and still slick with the last soul it devoured.

Chains wrapped around my wrists, binding me. My legs were spread, held wide by invisible force. My cunt was dripping, hungry, already aching for the brutal defilement I knew was coming.

Maraxxus growled, rubbing the head of his monstrous cock against my soaked lips. “You want to be Queen of Hell, whore?”

“I want to own it.”

He laughed. And drove himself into me.

The stretch was agony and ecstasy, splitting me wide as I screamed—not in pain, but raw, savage pleasure. My back arched. My eyes rolled. My cunt clenched around him like it wanted to keep him forever.

The succubus climbed up behind me, her tongue tracing fire along my spine. “So cock-drunk already?” she whispered, reaching around to claw at my nipples. “You’re going to beg before we’re through.”

She shoved two fingers into my ass, and I nearly blacked out.

The twins approached, their chains alive, slithering. One forced Caliel up to her knees and shoved a cock into her mouth. She gagged, but didn’t resist. Her eyes were wild—lost in pleasure, addicted to pain.

The other twin wrapped his chain around my throat, choking me as Maraxxus pounded harder, deeper, making the altar quake. I came, screaming, squirting down my thighs, soaking the stone with sin. But they didn’t stop.

They never stopped.

Hours passed—maybe more. I was used, broken open, filled again and again. Ass, pussy, mouth. Fists. Chains. Blood. Cum.

And when it was done…

They knelt.

Maraxxus bowed his head, cum leaking from my ruined cunt. The succubus licked my sweat-soaked skin like a loyal pet. The twins dropped their weapons.

“You are Hell’s Queen now,” Maraxxus said.

I stood, bruised, bleeding, glowing with power.

“No,” I corrected, voice hoarse.

“I am its goddess.”