The Dark Legacy

Hey everybody! This is my first time writing anything like this(really it's my first time writing anything), but I had this idea for a story in my head, and I decided to put it on paper. If anybody would care to comment on it, I'd be grateful.

This contains futa/futa,non-cons. and mast.

A Tale of The Dark Legacy

Demona dela Cortesa: Urges

By Absoloot

Note: The word “Womaen” is used to describe futa(plural) in this story. “Womyn” also describes a futa(singular).

Demona smiled as she watched Ambrosia pummel the young womyn’s pussy with ferocious abandon. Demona had been informed by one of the many palace servants that this little twit had been saying some very choice things about her. It was a thing of ease to catch the girl alone in a privy at the banquet they attended earlier this evening. Once Ambrosia laid hands on the girl, it was virtually guaranteed that the little bitch would have no chance to run. Trussed up, Demona had Ambrosia carry the girl through the back entrance of Lady dela Falena’s mansion and into Demona’s carriage.

Now, the girl was screaming hoarsely on all fours as she was forced to take the fourteen-inch battering ram that was Ambrosia’s cock. The girl dug her fingers into the rich carpet underneath her, tears streaming down her eyes as she was violently rocked back and forth. Demona could see the girl desperately trying to scramble away from the offending pole, knees and feet digging into the carpet in a vain attempt at escape. However, with Ambrosia’s right arm clasped around her waist, and the strong grip of the left hand firmly wrapped in her honey-blonde hair, the girl had very little chance of escape.

All the while, Demona idly stroked her own considerable cock and felt shivers of delight at the young harlot’s screams. While not equal to Ambrosia’s massive woman-breaker, Demona at eleven inches was well equipped to leave any woman (or womyn) shaking in post orgasmic bliss. Of course, she could care less if any of her partners got pleasure out of it. She didn’t want to make love or satisfy her victims. She wanted to crush them beneath her, and watch as they were slowly broken into crying, shaking, defeated creatures. The pain of her victims was like a drug to her, an addiction more potent than any mix of chemical or herbal compounds. She drank the blood of torn hymens and the tears of young virgins for the euphoria it gave her. Like now, when she could feel the build up of pleasure from watching the degrading of this young noblewomyn on the floor before her.

As twelfth in line to the throne of Amadinia, and scion of one of the noblest houses in the Empire, Demona didn’t lack prestige or status. For certain she was ambitious, but knew that real power was taking away from others, thus gaining for oneself. Born with a huge amount of etheric potential, she lear