Aww I knew this day would come eventually but the post for the main Handplates comics pages has too many links in it and Tumblr broke it, so I’m going to have to break it into two pieces. I was really hoping to keep it all on one page! But oh well. THAT’S TUMBLR FOR YOU.
Lists of links can act weird on mobile, so you can also read the comic at comicfury, or on Pillowfort or Deviantart.
—–
<— PART ONE - THE LAB
//Freedom//
After they escape.
————————
//Early Days//
Waking up
Some new threads
Ciphers
Bit of a crash course
Bad reception
Names
Nyeh heh heh
//Echoes//
Why me
Two cool dudes
Bullets
Dodging
And that’s what happened
Socializing: how hard can it be?
Creative Problem-solving
[parenting intensifies]
What’s a family?
Never say you’ll be right back
Maybe you should put in a lock
//Off-Balance//
Like I could walk on air
KR
What are you made of
By the way no big deal or anything but
It has to mean something
I’m going to regret this
What even is all this stuff
//Inevitably//
Out and about
Don’t turn back now that we’re here
You ever seen somebody ruin they own life
It’s for the best I know it
And part of me was cursing I had helped it grow so strong
//On Our Way//
Is this a bug?
h0i!
How normal is having things drilled into your hands
Our house now
//Moving Pieces//
Can I ask you something
Radical rumors?!?
You look like a skeleton who’s never been satisfied
So we carry every sadness with us
NGGGAAHH!!
At the top of the list
It’s a new record!
Get dunked on
In the dark, I can hear your heartbeat
No coupons required
Sleep paralysis (And its counterpart)
Promise fulfilled
————————-
//Flowey//
//Have you ever heard of a talking flower?//
Do you suffer from long-term memory loss?
Howdy!
Can I interest you in some peer pressure
Guess what I found out!
What’s behind door number one
//We Have To Go Back//
First stage
Can you overclock a hand reader
Second stage
Evidence, what evidence
Third stage
It’s a real get together.
Fourth stage
I don’t know you
Fifth stage
Long time no see
Just gonna do some redecorating
Tonight on Unsolved Mysteries
Guess what I found!
But why a curtain
What a giant ripoff!
Can I offer you a sword in this troubling time
Let’s race em!
//Abort/Retry/Fail//
Now loading…
Do you need rain for your parade
Have you played that cool new game
Filled with predetermination
Conflict is imminent
It’s not very effective…
It had no effect!
(interlude iii)
Choose carefully!
Press Z or X to continue
Depends on how you look at it
When is that other shoe going to drop
Thank you for your purchase (in an alternate timeline: World Revolution)
No refunds
Can I interest you in some gaslighting
Let’s speculate wildly
Hmm. Welp.
Have fun with the crisis, I’m going out
I’m holding this anxiety for a friend
I can do 20 sadness reps
Say “fuzzy pickles”
Let’s cast that die
Swallow your feelings down until you die and then bury them with you
//The Royal Guard//
Assistant sentry to the regional manager
But what will you name it
Just come on in
Lettuce discuss this in depth
Count the serifs too
//Here We Are//
You gonna finish those
Well good luck with that I’m gonna go
Man you shoulda been there
Can I interest you in some disinterest
————————-
//The Human//
//Murder Run//
I sleep where the lady fox sleeps
I have to try
Meet it head-on
So it goes
How many times, how many times
Are you sure?
It’s all right
You there?
//Pacifist Run//
Huh, weird
Things are looking up!
Calling out mayday
You look like someone who’s never been satisfied
//At Last, It Is Time//
Here we go
Say are you getting any feelings of oncoming doom
Haha remember when
Not then but now
Gotta be around here somewhere
Lot of catching up to do
Right, about that
You’re not handling this well
Not anymore
But why tho
And how have YOU been
Welp it’s been a long day so….
I have HAD it with this
Just LISTEN
Persistence finally pays off
Nailed it
//Letting Go//
A misery that knows no end
You’re ini trouble now
Just pops right off
We can call it a footplate
I’ve seen those holes before!
Just a weird coincidence
Just thinking about horrors, nbd
There goes the dam
You don’t have to
Out of my way
A little glitchy
What IS a player anyway
Just hold on
Surprise!
Are you done
Where will you go
No rush
Just make yourselves at home
How you holding up
In a way that matters
Quiet in the library
So what was that all about
Do right by you
Is there a shock option
Ask your local teacher
All things considered
But subs ONLY
Look at us now
//It’s been a long long long journey//
So tortured any clone children lately
Moral dilemmas on the house
An array of time slices
Well well look who it is
Crawling or weighing, your choice
So many others
And the forecast is…
-
—–//Other Stuff//
Childhood antics, goofy things, follow-ups to events
Gojo’s the type to make you believe you’re the one with the striking, crystalline blue eyes the way he yearns for your gaze.
When you’re the last to wake up, the first thing you’ll see is him staring at you with his head propped up by his arm against the pillow, almost as if seeing your eyes gives him permission to move. He can’t even hide the full smile somewhat covered by his hand.
“It’s not good to stare,” you tease groggily.
“I can’t help it,” he responds swiftly, resting his head back down on the pillow, eyes still on yours. “The morning doesn’t feel right until I see you.”
If you’re simply reading a book on your sofa, or watching another episode from another selection of your binging conquests, he leaves a trail of kisses up your arm, just waiting for you unlock your gaze and channel it in his direction.
“Need something, Toru?” You ask, a chuckle seeping through your curiosity. Your eyes remain on the flashing screen.
“I just—need to—leave—my baby—a few—kisses,” he spoke in between each peck against your skin.
“And I love that. But what do you really need?” You ask once more, eyes still fixed on the television.
He pauses. You almost turn to him at the sudden lack of pecks across your skin, but you refuse to give in just yet.
“I need you to look at me,” he finally admits softly, almost pitifully.
And just like that, you turn your attention to your crybaby boyfriend, who has his chin resting up against your arm with his bottom lip pulled out.
“For someone who says I’m the spoiled one, you sure do get whatever you want all the time,” you jeer.
But he doesn’t respond to you. He just stares into your eyes.
“Satoru?”
You could feel the hairs on your arm raise when you see the sparkle in his eyes. His orbs wide, just looking up into yours, as if he’s studying every detail there is to offer in your pupils. He looks as if time has just stopped itself for this very moment, granting him his long-awaited wish.
“Satoru?” You called again.
He blinks repeatedly and shakes his head, knocking himself out of his trance.
“You okay?” You ask, reaching to cup his face.
“Perfect, baby,” he responds, resting his cheek in your hand.
And when you’re both getting ready for bed that night, brushing your teeth at the shared mirror in your bathroom, you ask him:
“You do realize you have like—the most one of a kind eyes of all time right? Like by far the most beautiful eyes on the planet?”
He simply spits out the remaining bit of water and toothpaste into the sink bowl and shrugs. He looks at you in the mirror, smiles, and says:
Warnings. 18+, Sex with a literal monster, Sukuna's a cuck (but he wanted to be), size difference (like a...lot), vaginal sex, fingering, oral sex, naughty words and naughty acts. MDNI!
Word Count: 8,171
Art in the banner belongs to the amazing @xxnghtclls
Summary:
(See the picture above!)
So....I saw another fic idea as I was scrolling and was immediately inspired! I've wanted to write a Mahoraga fic at some point, so what better time than now!
I hope everyone enjoys!
Masterlist
You kneel at the base of the dais, forehead nearly brushing the cold stone floor, body folded small in deference to your King.
For days now, you’ve sensed a restless hunger coiling inside him, an insatiable edge that no amount of devotion from you has managed to blunt. No matter how many nights you’ve spent tangled up with him, clawing desperately at the broad expanse of his back, moaning his name until your voice cracked, he remains…unsatisfied.
You’ve offered everything, let him sheath both of his thick, ridged lengths inside you at once, stretching you to the point of burning tears, folded yourself into positions that left your joints aching and your body trembling with pain-laced pleasure.
Still, that feral glint in his eyes never dims.
Your skin bears the vivid proof of your efforts, dark bruises littering your throat, breasts, and inner thighs, bite marks marring your shoulders and hips like brands, faint scratches trailing down your back where his claws caught you mid-thrust. Your hips throb with that deep, familiar ache you’ve come to crave, a constant reminder that you belong to him. Completely.
He lounges atop his throne like a god of ruin, one head tilted lazily against a fist, a pair of crimson eyes fixed on you with predatory intensity. He summoned you here almost an hour ago, yet he had not spoken since, only watched, silent and calculating, as though deciding how best to devour you this time. The weight of his stare makes heat pool low in your belly even as unease prickles along your spine.
You are barely clothed, there hardly seems to be a point anymore. Once, he grew so impatient with the endless buttons and ties of your robes that he tore the garment clean off your body in a fit of snarling frustration. Now you wear only one of his massive haori, the heavy black fabric draped loosely over your shoulders and tied with a careless knot at your waist, just enough to preserve a fragile scrap of modesty. Even that seems to irritate him tonight, his gaze lingers on the knot as though it personally offends him.
Finally, his voice breaks the silence, low and commanding. “Come to me.”
You rise at once, gathering the trailing hem of the haori so it doesn’t trip you, and climb the stone steps until you stand directly before him. His lower pair of hands moves instantly, claws hooking into the loose tie at your waist. One sharp tug unravels it, the fabric sighs open, sliding from your shoulders to pool at your feet. Cool air kisses at your bare skin, raising gooseflesh and tightening your nipples into stiff, aching peaks. You stand exposed before him, marked, trembling slightly under the full force of his gaze.
His hands slip inside the open fabric, tracing your body with deliberate tenderness. Claws retracted to dull points, he maps every bruise and bite he’s left on you, cupping the swell of one breast, scraping lightly over a nipple until you draw a shuddering breath, trailing down the curve of your ribs to the dip of your waist, lingering on the fingerprint bruises blooming across your hips. His touch is reverent and possessive, cataloguing his own handiwork with dark satisfaction.
“Would you do anything for your King?” he murmurs, lifting his gaze to lock with yours. The question is soft, almost conversational, but it vibrates through you like thunder.
You nod without hesitation. “I’d do anything for you” you whisper, fingers brushing lightly over his wrist as it continues its slow exploration.
“And if I asked something… difficult of you?” He pushes the haori fully off your shoulders, letting it fall forgotten to the floor. “Something that might frighten you?”
Your throat tightens, but your answer is steady. “Anything” you breathe, even as your heart begins to race.
A low hum rumbles in his chest. He pulls you forward until you stand between his spread thighs, his massive frame still seated yet somehow towering over you. Both lower hands slide up the backs of your thighs, gripping the plush flesh of your hips and ass, kneading possessively.
“I want to see you ruined, my perfect little wife” he says, voice velvet soft, but laced with hunger. “Truly ruined.”
The words strike cold dread into your core, your heart stutters. “Do you want me… dead?” you ask, voice wavering, small and uncertain.
His eyes flash dangerously bright, claws pricking your skin until you wince. “I want nothing of the sort” he growls, the sound dark enough to make your knees weak. Then his grip softens, one hand rising to cup your cheek with surprising gentleness. You lean into it instinctively, and some of the tension leaves his expression.
“No, not dead” he purrs, thumb brushing your lower lip. “But I want to see what you look like when you cannot take any more. When you are pushed past every limit. I want to watch you fall apart completely, my dear.”
Heat floods you traitorously, your body clenching, slick gathering between your thighs at the raw hunger in his voice. Something broke inside you long ago, rewired you to crave even his darkest desires. Yet trepidation still coils tighter when he adds, almost as an afterthought. “And I want to watch.”
Your stomach drops. “Watch?” you echo meekly, bile rising at the thought of another man’s hands on you. “You—you mean another man—?”
His smile turns wicked, sharp, more twisted than you have ever seen it. “Not a man, no.” He savours your obvious disgust for a heartbeat before the name drops like a blade. “Mahoraga.”
Your mouth falls open, eyes wide in genuine shock. He cannot possibly mean…
You know he tamed the Divine General Mahoraga, witnessed the cataclysmic battle, the blood, destruction it took to bind the beast to his will. But the thought of that thing touching you, its blank winged eyes, cold paper-white skin stretched over nine feet of lethal muscle, the spinning dharma wheel haloed above its head, sends terror spiking through your veins. Your pulse thunders in your ears.
“Do not worry, my little bird” he coos, one massive hand sweeping your hair back from your shoulder, letting the strands cascade down your bare back. His touch is deceptively gentle. “If it makes even one misstep, I will kill it in an instant.”
You nod, ever the dutiful wife, even as fear knots your stomach. Part of you cannot fathom how this could work, how your body could possibly take something so immense, so inhuman, but you would endure anything to see your King sated at last.
A heavy footstep echoes behind you, the soft clink of a chain, and you freeze.
You turn your head slowly, and there it is, already summoned, already waiting for you in the shadows.
Mahoraga looms taller than should be possible, its blank winged eyes nearly brushing the vaulted ceiling. Moonlight glints off its paper-white skin, stretched taut over striated muscle that ripples with every subtle shift. Its maw parts slightly, revealing rows of glistening razor-sharp teeth arranged in a slow, predatory smile. The chain draped across its broad chest chimes softly as it takes another deliberate step forward, followed by a deep, rumbling inhale that vibrates into a guttural growl from the depths of its being. The dharma wheel above its head glows faintly, spinning lazily as those empty eyes seem to fix on you.
Apprehension claws at your chest. You begin to shake your head, instinctively stepping backward, closer to Sukuna’s seated form, seeking the protection of his arms.
“You trust your King, don’t you?” he sighs, one hand stroking your cheek with retracted claws, voice almost tender.
You nod, turning your face away from the approaching calamity.
“It won’t kill you” he continues calmly. “I’ve bound it utterly. It will only do what I allow.”
You nod again, throat too tight for words.
“I need to see you take something impossible” he murmurs, voice dropping into something filthy and reverent. “Need to see you break on it while your eyes stay on me, only on me.” His hands fall away from you, leaving you standing alone and trembling between his thighs. “It’s merely a tool, my pretty wife. In truth… I will still be the one fucking you.”
You don’t ask why, his reasons rarely make sense to mortal minds, and you stopped asking long ago. You simply nod once more, breath shallow, as his crimson gaze flicks over your shoulder.
Mahoraga advances another slow, inevitable step, drawn forward as though Sukuna’s insatiable pull toward you has been transferred directly into the beast. The air thickens with cursed energy and raw anticipation, and you stand naked, shaking, caught between the King you worship and the divine calamity he has chosen to ruin you with.
“Touch her…” Sukuna commands, his voice a low, resonant rumble that vibrates through the vast throne room like distant thunder. “Feel what my perfect little wife feels like.”
Mahoraga obeys without hesitation. Its massive arms, cold and impossibly strong, sweep forward, encircling your naked body and lifting you effortlessly from the floor. A sharp gasp tears from your throat as your feet leave the stone, your hands fly out instinctively, searching for purchase, finding only the unyielding expanse of its forearms as it cradles you like something fragile and precious.
You are seated across those iron-hard limbs, your thighs parted over one massive forearm, body pressed lightly against the cool plane of its chest. Its head, easily twice the size of yours, tilts slowly, turning this way and that, as though those blank winged eyes are drinking you in from every angle.
For a breathless moment it does not move. Terror and a treacherous curl of heat war inside you as you wonder what it’s thinking, your heart hammers so violently you’re certain it can feel it against its skin. Trembling, you lift your hands, fingertips brushing hesitantly along the paper-white expanse of its face.
The texture is startling, like silk, cool and impossibly smooth, stretched taut over unyielding muscle. Your touch grows bolder despite your fear, tracing the sharp ridges of its skull, pressing into every dip and divot as if mapping the face of a god.
Its maw parts slowly. A long, glistening tongue of deep violet, thick, and unnaturally cold, lolls out, the tip brushing your lips with intent. You flinch at the chill, but it presses forward regardless, sliding past your parted lips and into the wet heat of your mouth. The invasion is shocking, this cold muscle coiling against your tongue, filling your mouth with its strange, metallic taste. You whimper softly, eyes watering, but you respond as best you can, sucking gently, swirling your tongue against its undulating length, meeting each slow thrust and teasing curl.
It pushes deeper, the tapered tip nudging the back of your throat. You gag, tears spilling over your lashes, throat convulsing around the intrusion, but you do not pull away. Your hands clutch desperately at its face, nails scraping harmlessly over silk-smooth skin. A deep, guttural grumble vibrates from the beast’s chest, traveling straight through its tongue and into your body like a living pulse of pleasure that makes your core clench helplessly.
“Isn’t she perfect?” Sukuna sighs from his throne, voice thick with dark satisfaction.
Mahoraga answers with a low, rumbling growl that seems to vibrate in agreement. Those cold arms tighten, pulling you flush against its massive frame until your marked breasts crush against chilled muscle and your slick thighs slide along its forearm.
The need for air becomes unbearable. You tap frantically against its chest, small fists drumming weakly. The tongue withdraws instantly, sliding free with a filthy, wet squelch that echoes obscenely in the quiet hall, leaving your lips swollen and glistening, your chest heaving as you suck in desperate, shaky breaths.
“Feel her… properly” Sukuna orders, his voice dropping into a deeper, hungrier register that sends a fresh rush of heat between your legs.
The calamity complies at once. One massive arm remains hooked beneath your thighs, supporting your weight effortlessly, while the other begins a slow, deliberate exploration.
Its large hand glides across your skin with unexpected gentleness, fingers spanning nearly your torso, dragging from the delicate line of your shoulder, down over the bruised swell of your breast. It cups you for a moment, the cool palm engulfing tender flesh, thumb brushing across your hardened nipple with a pressure that draws a broken moan from your lips.
Then it continues lower, tracing the curve of your waist, the tremor in your belly, until those long fingers slip between your trembling thighs.
A savage growl rumbles from its chest the instant it appears to discover the copious slick coating your folds, evidence of your arousal despite the fact that these are not your King’s hands. The sound is primal, possessive, and it makes you clench involuntarily.
You cry out softly, small hands scrabbling for purchase on its shoulders, nails digging into unyielding muscle you know you could never mar. The grip only anchors you further, letting you feel every inch of its overwhelming strength.
You risk a glance over your shoulder, desperate for the sight of your King. Even in the dim, flickering torchlight his crimson eyes burn like twin furnaces, fixed unblinkingly on you. His thighs are spread wide on the throne, one hand now resting boldly between them, the slow drag of his palm over the thick bulge straining against his robes unmistakable. The sight alone sends a violent pulse of need through your core, your walls flutter, more slick easing out to coat Mahoraga’s probing fingers.
“More” Sukuna demands, voice rough with restraint. “Spread her open. Facing me.”
You are turned in its arms as easily as a doll, lifted and repositioned until you face your King directly. Massive hands grip the backs of your thighs from behind, forcing your legs wide, knees bent and hooked over its forearms so that you are held utterly exposed, glistening folds parted and presented like an offering. Cool air kisses your dripping entrance, you whimper, cheeks burning with humiliation at your position.
Something wet and icy slides across your shoulder, it’s the beast’s tongue again, trailing a shivering path over your shoulder. It wriggles lower, circling one stiff nipple with deliberate slowness, laving the sensitive bud until you arch and gasp. Then it continues its descent, leaving a glistening trail over your ribs, your quivering belly, until it finally reaches the aching heat between your legs.
The first touch against your swollen clit is electric, so cold and slick, but impossibly dexterous. The broad tongue strokes through your puffy lips, rough texture dragging over your clit in a slow, devastating circle. Pleasure crashes through you so sharply that you cry out, back bowing, head thumping against the solid wall of its chest. You try to twist, to seek friction, but its grip is iron, you are held open and suspended, helpless to do anything but take what it gives.
The tongue torments your clit mercilessly, flicking, swirling, sucking lightly before sliding lower. It circles your leaking entrance in teasing rings, the tapered tip dipping shallowly inside, stretching you just enough to make you gasp and clench greedily around nothing. Your eyes flutter open, locking helplessly with Sukuna’s burning gaze across the room.
The moment your gazes meet, the tongue surges forward.
It thrusts into you in one deep, claiming push, the cold, thick muscle burying itself to the hilt inside your clenching heat. You scream, the sound raw and broken, hands flying down to clutch desperately at its wrist for leverage as your hips jerk involuntarily.
The intrusion is overwhelming, colder than anything you’ve felt, yet so alive, coiling and uncoiling within your walls, stroking every sensitive ridge inside you with impossible precision. Lewd, wet sounds fill the chamber, your slick eagerness, the rhythmic plunge of its tongue, your own helpless moans.
Sukuna watches every second, eyes darkening to near black, hand moving faster over his clothed cock, the outline of his dual lengths now starkly visible. You cannot look away from him, from the hunger carved into his face, from the way his chest rises and falls with barely restrained need.
“Would you like to fuck my pretty little wife?” Sukuna purrs, voice velvet and lethal.
Your breath catches on a terrified whimper. The thought alone, of this monstrous, inhuman thing splitting you open, floods you with icy dread even as your walls flutter greedily around the tongue buried inside you. The appendage pauses deep within your throbbing channel, heavy and still, waiting.
A guttural growl vibrates from Mahoraga’s chest, traveling straight through its tongue and into your core like a shockwave of raw pleasure. The sensation forces a sharp gasp from your lips, nails biting crescents into its paper-white flesh as your body clenches helplessly, betraying just how desperately you crave whatever ruin your King has planned for you.
“See, my little bird” Sukuna purrs, voice dripping with dark depraved pride, “you drive even the Divine wild.”
One of his lower hands slips lazily beneath the loose fold of his robes. With deliberate slowness he frees both of his thick, ridged cocks, already fully hard, flushed a deep crimson, the upper one glistening with a bead of precum at the tip. He wraps a fist around them both, stroking once, unhurried, eyes never leaving you as Mahoraga begins to move.
Cold arms lower you gently until your trembling feet touch the stone floor. Your legs nearly buckle, slick and saliva drip down your inner thighs, and you sway, terrified to look back. You don’t want to see it, not yet. But you can hear it, the soft, leathery shift of its pale skin against itself, the faint rustle of whatever scant fabric it wore falling away, the metallic clink of chains sliding free and hitting the ground. Each sound tightens the knot of dread in your stomach even as your body throbs with heat.
It presses close behind you, impossibly tall, impossibly broad, its massive frame hunching low so that its smooth skull brushes your shoulder. That long, cold tongue flicks out again, dragging a slow, wet stripe across the nape of your neck, lapping greedily at the thin sheen of sweat gathered there.
The chill of it makes you shudder violently, your eyes flutter shut, breath catching on a soft, fearful whimper. You brace yourself, heart pounding, praying silently that whatever comes next will not tear you apart.
Without warning, those enormous hands spin you around to face it. You catch only a glimpse, blank winged eyes glowing faintly, rows of sharp teeth glinting, before it lifts you like you weigh nothing and lowers you carefully to the cold stone floor.
Your back meets the ground with a soft thud, the air leaves your lungs in a shaky gasp. It settles between your thighs immediately, forcing them wider to accommodate its bulk. The strange, protruding wings of its eyes brush feather-light against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, sending involuntary shivers up your spine.
You lie there, chest heaving, staring up at the vaulted ceiling until its shadow eclipses everything. Its maw opens slowly, those glistening teeth parting to reveal that thick, serpentine tongue lolling out once more, dripping with viscous saliva. It descends.
The first broad lick is sloppy, deliberately so, dragging from your entrance all the way up your swollen folds, coating your entire sex in a thick layer of cold, glistening spit. You gasp softly, hips twitching despite yourself, hands curling into tight fists at your sides as it repeats the motion again and again until you are utterly soaked, shining obscenely in the dim light.
Then, without mercy, it bullies that tongue back inside you.
The tapered tip spears your clenching entrance in one smooth thrust, colder and thicker than before, stretching you open with relentless pressure. You cry out, back bowing off the floor as it begins to pump, deep, devastating strokes that fill you completely, retreating only to plunge back in harder.
The pace is unforgiving, your body has no choice but to surrender. Pleasure coils hot and fast in your belly, overriding the fear. You lose yourself to it, back arching sharply, hips rolling greedily to meet each thrust, mouth falling open around broken, desperate cries that echo through the throne room.
“Oh god—” you sob, spine curling upward as the coil tightens unbearably. One trembling hand flies down, pressing weakly against the massive, smooth crown of its head, not to push away, but simply to anchor yourself as the sensations threaten to drown you.
It does not slow. If anything, it grows more insistent, tongue writhing inside you like a living thing, coiling, undulating, stroking places no human ever could. The texture is exquisite torment, cool, slick, and rough all at once.
Then it shifts, angling its tongue so the broad, flat surface drags firmly across your swollen clit with every deep plunge. The dual assault shatters you.
“I’m gonna—” The warning fractures into a scream as your orgasm crashes over you, violent and all-consuming. Your walls clamp down in frantic spasms, release gushing hotly around its invading tongue in pulsing waves. It does not stop, it drinks from you, mouth sealing over your lips, suckling greedily at your oversensitive clit until the pleasure twists into agony. You writhe, clawing desperately at its head, twisting onto your side in a frantic attempt to escape the unrelenting stimulation.
“Stop” Sukuna’s voice cuts through the haze, sharp with command and just a hint of concern. “You’ll consume her whole at this rate.”
Mahoraga growls, a low, rumbling protest that vibrates against your throbbing folds, but obeys. The tongue slips free with a final, lewd slurp, leaving you limp and twitching on the stone floor, body glazed in a sheen of your own release and its cold saliva. Your thighs tremble uncontrollably, soft, broken whimpers spill from your lips as aftershocks ripple through you.
Sukuna’s eyes burn across the room, hand still stroking his twin cocks with slow, deliberate pulls, a feral smile curling his lips.
“Now” he commands, voice rough with hunger, “continue.”
Mahoraga rises above you, its impossibly wide chest eclipsing the flickering torchlight, casting your trembling body in deep shadow. Your breath catches in your throat as your gaze drops involuntarily, and there it is.
Its cock is monstrous, utterly inhuman. Stark paper-white like the rest of its silken skin, yet throbbing with a vitality that makes your core clench in equal parts terror and treacherous anticipation. The shaft tapers gradually to a blunt, rounded tip, deceptively inviting, but is covered in thick, undulating ridges that swell progressively larger toward the base, each one textured with raised, swirling bumps and nodules that promise devastating friction.
Prominent veins wrap around the length in rigid, pulsing spirals, carrying that same cursed, inhuman rhythm you can feel echoing through its body. At the very root bulges a thick, swollen knot, even wider than the final ridge, glistening faintly with a sheen of its own cold precum.
Your heart slams against your ribs as icy dread coils in your belly. It’s too big, far too big, and yet your walls flutter emptily, remembering the stretch of its tongue and craving more despite the fear.
The beast climbs over you slowly, its massive frame hunching low to accommodate the difference in size, powerful thighs forcing yours wider as it settles between them. Cold, smooth skin blankets you like a living shroud, its chill seeping into your overheated flesh and drawing a full-body shiver.
The blunt head of its cock nudges insistently at your small, dripping entrance, hot slick meeting icy flesh, and you tense involuntarily, thighs quivering, a soft whimper escaping your lips as you squirm beneath its looming weight.
Mahoraga braces itself above you, two enormous hands planting on either side of your head, muscles flexing like coiled steel beneath that silk-white skin. It begins to push forward.
You gasp sharply, small hands flying to its thick wrists, gripping with every ounce of strength you possess as if you could truly hold it back. At first the tapered tip is almost manageable, sliding through your soaked folds with a slow, burning pressure that makes you moan despite yourself. The false sense of security lasts only moments.
As it sinks deeper, the ache blooms fierce and unrelenting. The stretch is unimaginable, a deep, splitting burn that radiates through your core, your walls spasm and clutch frantically around the invading girth, trying desperately to adjust.
The first swollen ridge breaches you with an obscene pop, the tight ring of muscle at your entrance forced wide, then snapping back into place around the narrower shaft behind it. Pleasure laced pain lances through you and your back arches off the stone floor, eyes rolling back as a broken cry tears from your throat.
It growls low above you, a deep, vibrating rumble that you desperately want to believe is patience, a pause to let you breathe, but before you can gather your scattered thoughts, it moves again. Another thick inch forces its way inside, then another, each ridge dragging mercilessly along your sensitive walls.
Your fingers scrabble higher, clawing at its unyielding forearms, nails scraping harmlessly over silky smooth muscle as you cry out with every devastating push.
“Stop—” you sob, spine bowing sharply, thighs clamping instinctively around its narrow waist in a futile attempt to slow the invasion. “Please—ah—!”
Another ridge pops past your entrance, stretching you impossibly wider as tears spill hot down your temples. Coherent thought dissolves into raw sensation, you feel your insides parting, reshaping, helplessly making room for its monstrous length. Panic and arousal twist together, your clit throbs in time with your frantic heart.
Desperate for some measure of control, you lift your head, peering down the length of your sweat-slicked body. Only the final, widest ridge remains outside, followed by that terrifying knot. A helpless whine escapes you. You drop your head back to the stone with a soft thud, chest heaving, and brace yourself.
“Just hurry” you pant, voice trembling, thighs clenching tighter around its hips, hands gripping its rock-hard arms until your knuckles whiten. “Please—”
Mahoraga answers with one brutal, claiming thrust.
The final ridge breaches you in a white-hot burst of stretch, the thick knot slams home against your entrance, locking deep as the full length buries itself to the hilt inside your spasming heat. You scream, raw and overwhelmed, as every ridge and bump seats perfectly within you, pressing against places you didn’t know existed.
The beast roars above you, a triumphant, earth-shaking sound that reverberates through the throne room, its dharma wheel spins wildly overhead, glowing brighter, while thick strands of cold, glistening spit gather in its open maw and drip in heavy drops onto your heaving breasts.
“Do you feel that, my beautiful wife?” Sukuna’s voice reaches you, rough and panting with barely restrained lust from his throne. “You’ve taken the Divine General like a perfect little whore.”
You can only whine in response, a high, broken sound as your body adjusts around the impossible fullness, walls fluttering helplessly, every tiny shift sending sparks of overwhelming pleasure-pain through you. You shift instinctively beneath the magnificent beast, hips rocking in tiny, involuntary circles, chasing the ruin even as tears continue to fall.
Those swollen knots and ridges rub relentlessly against your oversensitive insides, each textured bump dragging with exquisite cruelty over every throbbing nerve. The pleasure builds at an alarming, unstoppable rate, hot, coiling pressure that winds tighter and tighter in your belly until you’re panting desperately, high-pitched whines spilling from your lips as you rock your hips like a rutting animal, chasing the ruin you both fear and crave.
“Oh fuck—” you squeal, eyes squeezed shut against the overwhelming onslaught. Your orgasm crashes into you without mercy, a violent wave that arches your spine clear off the cold stone. Thighs clamp tight around Mahoraga’s narrow waist, trembling uncontrollably as your walls spasm and milk the monstrous length buried inside you. Even the sheer weight of it, thick, cold and unyielding, drives you deeper into madness, every tiny shift sending fresh shocks of ecstasy through your core.
The Divine General growls low and rumbling in response, a sound that vibrates straight into your bones. Its long, chilled tongue flicks out, lapping delicately at the hot tears streaking down your cheeks as your body shudders through the aftershocks.
Then it finally moves.
Massive hands, surprisingly gentle despite their strength, scoop beneath your back and thighs, lifting you as though you weigh nothing. It settles back onto its heels, drawing you upright until you’re seated astride its powerful thighs, its ridged cock still buried to the hilt.
The new angle forces it even deeper, the blunt, tapered head presses hard against your cervix, a dull, delicious ache that makes you gasp and clench anew. A fresh gush of slick coats the place where you’re joined, easing the impossible stretch just enough to keep you from breaking.
“Ride him, my sweet” Sukuna orders, voice thick and ragged. Only now do you register the wet, rhythmic shlick-shlick of his fists pumping up and down his twin cocks, the sound obscene in the vast chamber.
You collapse forward, pressing your flushed, sweat-slicked body against Mahoraga’s cool chest, the sensation soothing and shocking all at once. Its massive arms cradle you close, one palm pressed against your entire back. You wrap your arms as far as they will reach around its thick neck, fingers barely meeting, and lift yourself slowly.
Each swollen knot stretches your entrance anew as it slides free, the ridges and nodules dragging mercilessly over that spongey, sensitive spot deep inside you. Your thighs shake as soft, broken whimpers escape with every inch you rise. You pause when only the blunt tip remains inside, your body aching with sudden emptiness, walls fluttering greedily around nothing. A shuddering breath, and then you drop yourself viciously.
The impact steals your air. You cry out sharply, head thrown back, eyes blown wide as every ridge slams home again, the thickest knot popping past your rim with a wet, filthy sound. That perfect spot inside you is abused, singing with electric pleasure that borders on pain. Insanity creeps in at the edges of your mind, a debauched, frantic need to take it even deeper, to be split apart and remade around this divine monstrosity.
You rise again, faster this time, and drop again. The sharp slap of your thighs against its unyielding muscle echoes through the throne room, mingling with your unrestrained, pleasured wails. Mahoraga’s hands grip your hips now, aiding your rhythm, lifting you with effortless strength and guiding you back down harder and faster. Its constant, guttural growls vibrate against your breasts, urging you on.
“Louder” Sukuna purrs, voice dark with satisfaction. “Let me hear how it breaks you.”
But his words barely reach you through the haze. All you know is the impossible stretch, the exquisite fullness, the way your body is learning, against all reason, to crave this ruin.
You move faster as your walls begin to adjust, slick pouring freely now, easing the glide. Mahoraga meets your drops with upward thrusts of its own, forcing its length impossibly deeper, the blunt head meeting your cervix on every brutal stroke.
“Fuck—” you sob, fingernails digging desperately into the unyielding muscle at the back of its neck, forehead pressed to its chilled chest as though you could hide from the pleasure consuming you. “Harder” you gasp, the plea torn from you before shame can stop it.
Sukuna’s low, delighted laugh rolls through the chamber like thunder. “Turn her, Mahoraga” he commands.
The beast obeys instantly. With a thunderous, possessive growl it lifts you fully off its cock, cold air rushing to your gaping, clenching entrance and wrenching a pitiful mewl from your throat at the sudden emptiness. You’re spun effortlessly in its arms, legs folded beneath you until you straddle it facing forward, feet hooked over its hips for leverage. Its massive hands roam upward, cupping and kneading your breasts roughly, cold thumbs flicking over stiff nipples as it guides you back down.
You sink onto its length again with a broken whine, body stretching greedily to accommodate the familiar invasion, every ridge popping back into place like it belongs there.
And finally, you can see your King again.
Though now, he is a vision of debauchery. Robes thrown open, marked chest gleaming with sweat in the dim torchlight, both thick cocks standing proud and flushed between his spread thighs. One large hand grips each shaft, stroking with slow, deliberate pulls, precum glistening at both tips. His crimson eyes glow brighter than the flames, mouth parted around deep, rumbling groans that match the rhythm of his fists.
“Watch me, beautiful” he purrs, voice velvet and lethal.
You nod helplessly, lifting yourself off Mahoraga’s cock in perfect time with the upward stroke of his hands. He notices immediately, how he completely controls you even from his throne, how eagerly you fuck yourself on the divine beast to the tempo he sets. A wicked smirk curls his lips, sharp teeth flashing.
“Good girl.”
You mewl helplessly at Sukuna's praise, the words sinking into your haze like a brand, your eyes locked unblinkingly on him as you continue to bounce along Mahoraga's monstrous cock.
Your small hands brace against the beast's stone-cold, unyielding thighs for leverage, fingers splaying wide over silk-smooth muscle that feels more like chilled marble than flesh.
Each upward lift drags those swollen ridges and textured nodules through your clenching walls, each downward plunge forces the thick, knotted length deeper, the blunt head bullying against your cervix until a visible bulge distends your lower stomach, a lewd, obscene outline that makes fresh heat flood your cheeks even as your body craves more.
You roll your hips greedily as you bottom out again and again, grinding in slow, filthy circles to force it even deeper, chasing that terrifying fullness that borders on too much. A whimper catches in your throat every time the bulge presses outward, a stark reminder of how utterly full you are, of how something so inhuman is reshaping you from the inside.
Mahoraga's massive hands roam your body possessively, one kneading the plush curve of your ass to guide your rhythm, another sliding up your sweat-slicked torso to cup a breast, cold thumb circling your stiff nipple until you arch with a sob. Then that enormous palm comes to rest directly on your distended stomach, pressing down firmly on the protruding bulge with deliberate pressure. The sensation is devastating, you feel the ridged cock from every angle, inside, stretching you to your limits, and outside, the unyielding hardness trapped beneath your skin. It forces a broken cry from your lips, pleasure laced with a sharp edge of fear at how deeply it owns you.
“Yes—” you cry out, spine bowing sharply, head tilting back toward the beast looming behind you, mouth hanging open in desperate, panting gasps.
Overwhelmed by the need for more, of anything to ground you in this storm, you reach one trembling hand upward, fingers brushing its smooth skull, pulling weakly to draw its head down toward you. You crave that cold tongue again, something to fill you everywhere at once, to silence the frantic edge of trepidation still whispering that this might finally break you.
It understands instinctively. A deep, rumbling growl vibrates through its chest as its maw opens wide, that long, violet tongue lolling out thick and glistening. It prods insistently against your parted lips, cold and slick, before slipping between your teeth to wrap around your own tongue in a possessive curl. It strokes and coils with deliberate slowness, filling your mouth just as thoroughly as its cock fills your core.
You moan loudly into the kiss, muffled, obscene sounds that echo your rocking hips as you suckle greedily on the invading muscle, tongue swirling desperately against its undulating length. The dual penetration undoes you completely, the ridged cock pounding the deepest, most forbidden places inside you with every grind, the tongue pressing deeper into your throat until you gag softly, tears pricking your eyes once more.
Your walls clench spasmodically around every swollen knot and throbbing vein, feeling every last inch of its inhuman girth as another orgasm barrels toward you, faster and fiercer than the last.
Eyes squeezed shut against the blinding pleasure, you shatter.
Your whole body convulses in violent tremors, a scream muffled around its tongue as you pull away just enough to gasp for air. Release gushes hotly around its buried cock in pulsing waves, soaking the place where you're joined until slick drips in rivulets down its powerful thighs. You drop yourself one final time, impaling yourself fully, knot locking deep, as the beast's length pulsates wildly inside you.
A low, triumphant roar rumbles from its chest. Then it pours into you, thick, cold ropes of cum flooding your overstuffed channel in heavy surges. You whine high and broken at the sensation, the sheer volume distending your stomach further, a soft, rounded swell forming beneath Mahoraga's pressing palm as it fills you to overflowing, painting you ivory from the inside out.
The mix of terror and ecstasy leaves you trembling, clinging to the divine calamity as aftershocks ripple through your ruined body, every breath a reminder that you've been thoroughly, irrevocably filled.
“Shit—” Sukuna snarls, the curse raw and ragged as his head tips back against the throne.
Your heavy-lidded eyes crack open just in time to watch the first thick ribbon of ivory cum stripe across his marked chest, painting the hard ridges of his abdomen in glistening ropes. Another follows, then another, until his skin gleams wet and filthy under the torchlight. The sight alone makes your mouth flood with saliva, you ache to drag your tongue through every hot, salty streak, to taste your King at his most undone.
You squirm weakly, still impaled and trembling atop Mahoraga’s lap, its cock locked deep by that swollen knot. Massive hands hold your hips in an iron grip, keeping you pinned. Only when the beast finally loosens its grasp do you collapse forward onto hands and knees, its monstrous length slipping free with a lewd, wet squelch that echoes in the quiet. Cold air rushes against your throbbing entrance, a rush of mixed release immediately follows, dripping in thick rivulets down your shaking thighs.
You don’t hesitate. You crawl across the cold stone on trembling limbs, drawn irresistibly to the heat radiating from Sukuna’s body. His crimson eyes slit open at the soft scrape of your knees, a slow, predatory smirk curling his lips as you prowl closer like a supplicant approaching her god.
“My dear wife” he drawls, voice husky and mocking, spreading his powerful thighs wide like a shameless offering. The movement displays the mess you crave, cum cooling on his skin, cocks still half-hard and glistening.
You crawl between his legs, hands sliding reverently up the thick muscle of his thighs until your breath ghosts over his stained stomach. For a moment you hesitate, glancing up through damp lashes for permission. He arches one brow, amused and impatient.
That’s all the encouragement you need.
You lean in and lap at the warm, salty spend coating his abs, tongue delving hungrily into every deep ridge and hollow, gathering the thick fluid into your mouth with desperate, kittenish licks. Your cunt throbs emptily with every swallow, arousal twisting tighter as you clean him with single-minded devotion.
You’re so lost in the taste of him that you don’t hear Mahoraga shift behind you, only feel the sudden clamp of cold, massive hands seizing your hips. The beast yanks you back slightly, positioning you, and then it enters you in one devastating thrust.
All three swollen knots slam home in rapid succession, the final one popping past your rim to throb heavily against your stretched lips. You cry out sharply, collapsing forward until your forehead presses to Sukuna’s hot skin, the scent of sex and sweat overwhelming.
The Divine General sets a brutal, unforgiving pace immediately, hips snapping forward with inhuman force, jolting your entire body with every plunge. Each thrust punches the air from your lungs in pitiful, broken sobs, your hands scrabble across Sukuna’s broad frame for anchor, nails scraping over marked muscle as he watches you from inches away, crimson eyes glowing with dark delight at your destruction.
His twin cocks harden fully beneath your swaying breasts, thick and burning hot as you’re shunted forward again and again, the valley between your tits slicking with precum. Each punishing stroke forces more of the mixed release from your overstuffed cunt, the wet plap-plap-plap of it hips against your ass echoing through the throne room alongside your desperate cries and Mahoraga’s otherworldly growls.
Sukuna reaches down at last, one large hand cupping your tear-streaked chin, tilting your wrecked face up to meet his gaze.
Despite the fear flickering at the edges of your pleasure-drunk mind at how much more can you possibly take, you rock back to meet the beast’s thrusts now, bouncing yourself off its hips with reckless abandon, the depth bordering on true pain.
“Su—” you gasp, straining upward, hands clutching at his thighs. You need his mouth, need something to ground you before you fly apart completely.
He concedes with a low chuckle, leaning forward to mash his lips against yours in a messy, bruising kiss, teeth clashing, tongues tangling, spit slicking your chins. Mahoraga snarls behind you, possessive and enraged, its long, cold tongue drags up the length of your spine in a single chilling stroke that makes you shiver and clench violently around its cock.
Sukuna pulls back just enough to glare up at the beast. “She’s mine” he growls, voice lethal, fingers sliding possessively around the nape of your neck like a collar.
The calamity answers with a deeper thrust, shallow now, grinding, as though trying to brand itself against your cervix and claim the space for its own. The pressure is exquisite and terrifying, you collapse forward again, forehead resting against Sukuna’s warm stomach, panting and moaning incoherently.
There is little left to give. Mahoraga fucks you brutally, hips snapping with relentless force, cold hands bruising your sides.
Pleasure has turned your mind to mush, the ridges and knots abuse your oversensitive walls until everything feels numb, except for that final, burning coil winding tighter and tighter deep in your belly, threatening to consume you whole.
Your hands clench into trembling fists against Sukuna’s skin, back twitching uncontrollably, pussy fluttering helplessly around the giant intrusion. All you can do is moan, drool spilling from your parted lips onto your King’s abdomen.
“Kuna—” you sob, voice cracking, eyes screwed shut as the last orgasm drags you under with terrifying force.
Your vision whites out entirely. The last thing you feel is your body shattering, something deep in your core exploding in white-hot rapture, waves of pleasure so intense they border on pain ripping through every nerve. And then, blissfully, you’re gone, lost to the dark, ruined and sated in the arms of your King and the divine calamity he commanded to break you.
…
You wake slowly to the soft, rhythmic lapping of water against stone, a warmth so deep and enveloping it feels like it’s seeping straight into your bones. Every muscle aches with a heavy soreness, as though you’ve been thrown down a flight of stairs. Your eyelids flutter open, the dim, steamy light of Sukuna’s private bath makes your head throb faintly, but the discomfort fades beneath the blissful heat of the water cradling you.
Steam coils lazily across the surface of the sunken pool, curling around your bare skin like ghostly fingers. It takes a moment to register that you’re caged safely within the iron bands of Sukuna’s four arms. His broad chest presses flush to your back, the hot brand of his marked skin a comforting anchor. Two large palms glide slowly down your sides beneath the water, thumbs tracing gentle, soothing circles over your ribs and hips, easing the lingering ache of overuse.
“Kuna” you murmur, voice soft and hoarse, twisting your head to seek him.
He’s lounging against the carved edge of the bath, one elbow propped lazily, head tilted to rest in his palm. A rare, indulgent smile plays at the corners of his mouth, something almost tender flickering in those crimson eyes as they roam over your face.
One hand rises from the water, droplets trailing down his thick fingers as he brushes damp strands of hair from your face, tucking them gently over your shoulder. His gaze follows the path of his touch, lingering on your throat with a strange, heated affection.
“You did so well” he murmurs, voice low and velvet soft, fingers trailing down the column of your neck to stroke between each fresh mark blooming across your skin, bites, bruises, the faint imprint of massive hands, tracing them like pieces of a puzzle. “Mahoraga wanted you for itself. I almost had to fight the bastard again.”
“Huh” you grunt faintly, a tired, amused sound, snuggling deeper into the furnace of his chest. Your thighs throb at the mere thought of the divine beast, of its impossible size, its relentless thrusting, and a faint pulse of slick heat stirs between your legs despite your exhaustion.
“But you’ll always be mine” Sukuna growls, the words warping into something darker, fiercely possessive. His hands clamp suddenly around your waist beneath the warm water, fingers spanning nearly your entire circumference. He lifts you with effortless strength, positioning you higher in his lap, then lowers you slowly until the thick, curved head of one cock nudges your swollen entrance and slides home in a single, gentle glide.
Despite the ruinous stretch Mahoraga left behind, Sukuna feels perfect, warm and devastatingly curved, the familiar ridges of his length dragging against your tender walls like he was made to fit you and you alone. A soft mewl escapes your lips as you reach back blindly, fingers threading into the damp pink hair at his nape, tugging him closer until his mouth latches onto the sensitive curve of your throat.
He rocks into you with unhurried tenderness, using the leverage of his grip on your waist to lift and drop you in slow, deep strokes. Your legs are still too weak to help much, thighs trembling, muscles lax from overuse, so you simply cling to him, letting him set the rhythm. Water sloshes gently around you with each roll of his hips, warm waves lapping at your breasts as his body presses to yours everywhere, chest to back, thighs cradling yours, the slick drag of wet skin on skin intoxicating.
It’s impossibly intimate, his breath hot against your neck, teeth grazing possessively, one pair of arms holding you steady while the other two roam, mapping the tremor in your ribs, the quiver of your belly. His cock strokes deep on every downward glide, kissing places still fluttering from earlier abuse, coaxing fresh sparks of pleasure from your oversensitive nerves.
It doesn’t take long. The coil winds tight again almost immediately, breathy whines spilling from your parted lips as you clutch desperately at his hair and the thick wrist banded around your waist.
“I’m gonna—” you sigh, voice breaking, walls fluttering helplessly around his buried length.
You feel his teeth sink softly into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, a gentle, claiming bite as he growls his own impending release. One large hand slips from your waist, sliding down through the water to find your swollen clit. A single rough fingertip flicks the tender bud with devastating precision.
“Ah—!” you squeal, the blissful orgasm rippling through you in gentle, rolling waves, nothing like the violent shattering from before, but sweet and perfect in its tenderness.
Sukuna follows moments later, hips surging upward as he pumps thick, hot ropes deep inside you. The sheer volume forces some to spill out around his shaft, clouding the water in lazy white swirls as he continues to bounce you gently on his thighs. He seats himself fully at last, cock pressed flush in the deepest part of you, reclaiming the space Mahoraga occupied hours ago, and floods it with pulsing heat until you feel deliciously, perfectly full again.
You groan softly, slumping back against his chest, every limb heavy and sated.
“I can’t—” you mumble, thoughts sluggish, body spent. “I need to stop.”
“I know, my beautiful” he murmurs against your cheek, lips brushing tenderly, a stark contrast to the ruin he orchestrated. “You did so well.”
His arms tighten around you, cradling you in the steaming water as you feel the steady beat of his heart against your back and the lingering warmth of him buried deep inside.
Well...that went further than I expected it to. Though I was super inspired! 😳.
@tojisabyss - I hope it fulfils what you wanted 😊.
Please don't steal, reproduce, feed into AI, or repost without my consent.
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