100x Rebate Sharing System: Retired Incubus Wants to Marry & Have Kids

Chapter 676: Chapter 675- Cock Cleaning Demoness Service

He held his cock. The shaft — tender from Helena’s ass, now coated with Clara’s virgin blood — was still nine inches. Still hard. The 100x stamina, combined with the incubus regeneration, kept him ready.

He looked at Nora.

The demoness lay on the edge of the pool. Chained. Collared. Her body — the thick, demon-pale form — was trembling. Her crimson eyes — rolled back, glazed — were barely visible beneath half-closed lids. Her pussy — barely covered by the war dress panty — was soaked. The fabric was transparent with arousal. The demon-kin musk filled the bathroom.

She had watched. She had felt. The loop — Clara’s screams transmitted through her clit, Clara’s pulls transmitted through her collar — had put Nora through two orgasms without being touched by Viktor directly.

’How is he taking that thing?’ Nora thought. Her crimson eyes — barely focused — tracked the cock. The nine inches. The thickness. The cum and blood. ’She’s — the maid — she’s a virgin and she took—’

’And now he’s looking at me.’

”Come on,” Viktor said. He pulled the leash.

Nora’s body moved. Not voluntarily — the leash pulled her. Her hands — still chained above — released. The iron links retracted, pulling her arms down. She fell. Her back hit the edge of the pool. Her head rolled back, hanging over the water. Her ash-grey hair fell into the basin.

He grabbed her neck.

His hand — large, strong, the 100x grip strength — wrapped around her throat. Not squeezing. Holding. His thumb pressed against her pulse point. He could feel her heartbeat — 160 bpm, racing.

He pushed her head down. Further. Over the edge. Her mouth — open, gasping — was positioned. Upside down. Her throat — extended, exposed — formed a straight line from her mouth to her stomach.

His cock — nine inches, still hard, still slick — pushed against her lips. The head — the crimson, cum-covered, blood-smeared head — pressed against her teeth.

She tried to bite.

CLACK.

Her teeth — the heavenly demon’s fangs, sharp enough to cut steel — closed on his cock. The shaft — hard as steel, the 100x physical enhancement making the tissue denser than any metal — didn’t yield. Her teeth grazed the surface. She felt the hardness. The ’this-is-not-flesh-this-is-iron’ density that made biting pointless.

He pushed deeper. Enjoying the teeth. The scraping — the sensation of fangs dragging along the shaft, the slight pressure, the ’she-is-trying-to-hurt-me-and-failing’ sensation that was, somehow, stimulating.

His cock entered her throat.

The shaft — nine inches, thick — slid past her teeth, past her tongue, past her uvula, into her esophagus. The head — the crimson, swollen head — pushed through the narrow passage. Her throat bulged. The outline of the cockhead — visible through the skin of her neck — moved downward.

Her eyes rolled. Her nose — positioned directly below his balls — was assaulted. The scent — the incubus musk, the cum, the blood, the combined arousal of three women — filled her nostrils. Her lungs pulled it in. The pheromones hit her brain.

’This man,’ she thought. The thought was fragmented. Broken by the cock in her throat. ’I was — I sucked — he’s—’

Her body trembled. The memory — the cave, the collar, the forced licking — overlaid with the present. The same cock. The same position. The same helplessness. But this time, she couldn’t even bite. Couldn’t even scratch. The chains held her. The collar controlled her. His hand on her throat held her in place.

He started to fuck her mouth.

Not gently. Not the slow, measured pace he had used on Clara. This was the pace he had used on Mira — the fast, deep, ’your-throat-is-a-pussy’ pace that turned the act from oral sex into throat-fucking.

Pah Pah Pah Pah—!!

His hips drove forward. His balls — heavy, swinging — hit her nose with each thrust. The impact was not gentle. The sac — full, the cum sloshing inside — slapped her face. Her nose. Her cheeks. The wet SMACK of flesh on flesh filled the bathroom.

His hands found her tits. The barely-contained mounds — the strips of dark fabric pushed aside — were exposed. He cupped them. Through the fabric of her combat top — the strips of dark material that served as a bra — his palms closed over the heavy flesh. He kneaded. Mercilessly. The demon-kin tissue — denser than human, more sensitive — deformed under his fingers. The nipples — hidden beneath the fabric — hardened.

She tried to bite again. Her teeth — the fangs — closed on the shaft. CLACK. The same result. The cock didn’t yield. The steel-hard density absorbed the bite. He pushed deeper. Her teeth scraped. He moaned.

”Hmm,” he said. The sound was appreciative. The ’I-like-that’ moan of a man who enjoyed the resistance. ”Do it again.”

She did. CLACK. Her teeth scraped. Her fangs dragged along the shaft. The sensation — the sharp, ’she-is-trying-to-hurt-me’ scraping — sent a shiver through his body.

’This is disrespectful,’ Nora thought. The thought was clear despite the cock in her throat. ’I am a demon general. One of the five heavenly demons. Three thousand years of—’

Pah Pah Pah—!!

The thought dissolved. The thrusting — the relentless, balls-on-nose, throat-stretching thrusting — shattered her concentration. Her hand — the one not chained — moved to her throat. Her fingers found the bulge — the outline of the cockhead, moving up and down inside her neck — and held. She could feel it. Through her skin. Through her fingers. The cock moving inside her.

’Please stop,’ she thought. The words didn’t reach her mouth. The cock filled it. ’This is disrespectful. I am a demon general.’

He slammed deep. Held. His balls pressed against her nose — cutting off her air. His cock throbbed. The pulse — the imminent flood — was there.

He came.

The first rope hit the back of her throat. The second followed. The third. Each burst was thick, heavy, molten — the incubus-enhanced seed flooding her esophagus. Her belly — the flat, toned demon belly — began to bulge. The cum filled her stomach. Her throat overflowed — the white fluid rising, pushing upward, leaking from her nose.

Her eyes rolled. Fully. The crimson irises disappeared. Her body convulsed — the choking, the cum, the ’I-cannot-breathe’ reality of being throat-fucked to completion — sending her into a state that was neither consciousness nor unconsciousness.

She couldn’t die. Her heavenly demon physiology prevented it. But she couldn’t move. The cock in her throat — still hard, still pulsing — pinned her. The cum in her stomach — the weight, the warmth — immobilized her. The balls on her nose — blocking her air — made her vision go black.

He pulled out.

The cock emerged from her throat with a thick, wet POP. The shaft — slick with cum and saliva — hung between his thighs. Limp. Softening. The 100x stamina had limits — even with the enhancement, three sessions in rapid succession had drained the immediate reserves.

Nora lay on the edge of the pool. Her mouth — open, overflowing — leaked cum. The white fluid ran from her lips, over her cheeks, into her ash-grey hair. Her nose — both nostrils — leaked the same.

The cum dribbled out in thick, slow streams. Her eyes — rolled back, the whites showing — were unseeing.

Her body — chained, collared, covered in sweat and blood and cum — was still.

Her legs — tied to the collar, the chains pulling them apart — were spread. The position — legs open, pussy exposed, ass raised — made her look like something. Beautiful. Broken. The kind of beautiful that only existed in the aftermath of absolute destruction.