My Bloody Valentine

My Bloody Valentine

Chapter One

	“SLAITODESTUFBROUKUNAIGHT!” the Blood God roared, smashing his mighty fist into the arm of the skull throne, sending a terrifying earthquake through the planet with his fury. “ONE whom the MORTALS call ZARKAIUS the WARSLAYER! You have FAILED me for the LAST TIME!” Slaitodestufbroukunaight, the Bloodthirster of Khorne, kneeled before his master and lowered his red, horned head in shame as his tail wrapped around his huge, chiseled waist in a resting position. He laid his daemonic axe and his deadly whip down on the bone-paved throne room’s floor, a symbol of his complete surrender.
	“Slaitodestufbroukunaight! DO you KNOW the MAGNITUDE of your PATHETIC DEFEAT?! Slain mere MOMENTS after emerging from the RIFT I spent so much STRENGTH to TEAR open on the PLANET I sent you to MASSACRE?! By a mere HUMAN with a DAMN LASGUN?! It is AS IF you have FORGOTTEN what it MEANS to be ONE of MY SERVANTS!”
	“My lord, it was a one-in-a-million shot from a panicking, inexperienced, unskilled warrior. By all estimates, the odds of his wild blasts striking me in the eye and burning through my skull were –“ Zarakaius mumbled desperately before the mighty god interrupted him.
	“SILENCE! I TIRE of hearing of these ‘ONE-IN-A-MILLION’ HAPPENSTANCES all of you incompetent FOOLS blubber about EVERY SINGLE MILLENIUM! HOW can it be SO DIFFICULT to TAKE a PLANET I give you on a SILVER BLOODY PLATTER?! You have MADE A MOCKERY of ME and the REST of your KIN! WHAT can you OFFER me in PENANCE for your FAILURE?!”
	“My lord, I would give you my weapons and my horns until I have earned them back by volume of skulls and blood!” Zarakaius declared proudly, pounding one of his hefty fists into his solid chest. “If such a sacrifice pleases you not, I gladly accept death! It is the natural punishment for my shameful disgrace!”
	The Blood God growled and wrapped his chin with his tremendous fingers, stroking it in a rare case of him giving something some careful thought. The infinite hordes of daemons lingering around and observing the trial immediately recognized that pose, and in a fit of howling, flailing, and shrieking, they fled in the vain hopes of escaping whatever terrible fate Khorne was pondering. They knew full well that whenever Khorne got creative, it was bad news for the entire Warp.  Only Zarakaius and the rest of Khorne’s Bloodthirsters remained, all of them able to muster the strength of will to stay. Barely.
After what seemed like an eternity of tension (which it may well have been), the angry god let out an amused bark of mirth, striking absolute terror into the hearts of the greater daemons. “NO! DEATH is too GENTLE of a SENTENCE for the LIKES of YOU! I have ASCERTAINED a FAR more BRUTAL punishment!” he snarled, raising his finger to thrust it out at the Bloodthirster with uncompromising power. A blood-red bolt of energy shot forth from the finger to wrap around and bind the daemon to Khorne’s word. “YOU!  Your JUDGMENT is THUSLY the MOST BRUTAL remuneration of ALL! You SHALL be FORBIDDEN from slaying even a SINGLE soul, CLAIMING even a single SKULL for my THRONE, or SLAKING your THIRST with even one DROP of the BLOOD of the FALLEN! For ALL of ETERNITY shall you BEAR this CURSE of ANGUISH, until you FIIIIND LOOOOVE!”
	There was silence. The Bloodthirsters just stared at their master, their jaws slowly dropping in shock. Then, the clattering of untold thousands of monstrous, gnarled weapons upon the ground paved with bones, followed by a cacophony of dull thuds as they all fell to their knees, all of the strength in their huge frames flowing out of them. Zarakaius’s world shattered. If he had been a mortal, the shock of this judgment would have killed him right then and there. Unfortunately, he was not so lucky. All throughout the vast cavern of blood and bones, a slow chant began to arise from the Bloodthirsters.
	“Brutal,” they uttered, unable to find any other words for the ruling. As if unable to accept how vicious and cruel it was, they repeated that single word, slowly building from a soft grumble to a loud chorus of yells. If a mere human had been there, they might have struggled to understand their reaction. Only an expert from the Ordo Malleus could comprehend the true nature and enormity of the verdict. For Bloodthirsters, being restricted against killing anything at all was a punishment severe enough to be reserved for only the greatest violators of Khorne’s will. But love? Love was a word never spoken in the Blood God’s realm, especially not by a Bloodthirster. It was considered the most vile and unspeakable concept for a warrior, such a wild departure from their comfortable natural state of rage and hate that just the mention of the word by a naïve cultist could send them into a berserker frenzy.
	And now, Zarakaius had been ordered and bound to seek out the thing he hated more than anything else. He retched, heaving up nothing, as he did not eat food. It was an empty gesture, but it was the only thing that could convey his revulsion. He raised his head and begged his lord frantically. “Please, my lord! Just kill me! My skull would make a fine decoration for your throne!”
	But the Blood God would have none of it. “NO! My WORD is FINAL! BEGONE!” he roared, slamming his fist into the arm of his seat again to emphasize his point. Zarakaius realized that there was no hope of changing his master’s mind. With that, his heart truly fell to despair. Obeying the order of his master, he got to his feet, grabbed his now useless weapons, and trudged away from the throne, his shoulders sunk. The other Bloodthirsters that would usually mock a failure like Zarakaius found themselves unable to this time; no servant of Khorne deserved what that poor fellow got. No one. They held their tongue out of pity while Zarakaius dragged himself away and left the planet through one of the stable warp gates in his misery.

~~~

	For seven days and seven nights, Zarakaius grieved in his humble abode fashioned from the flesh and bones of his defeated enemies. He never got out of bed, and tossed and turned constantly. Those who strayed near his home could hear his pathetic groans and grunts as he futilely attempted to forget his problems. Eventually, some poor sap was coerced into going and knocking on his door crafted expertly out of nothing but teeth and noses. “Go ask him what’s wrong! Offer to lend him an ear! He can’t kill you, so there’s nothing to be afraid of!” said the chortling bully cultists as they forced the weakest of their group to make the perilous journey across the rope bridge that was actually made of tendons and femurs, over the deadly river of warp-infused magma in the valley below, to the Bloodthirster’s house of pain.
	The gangly cultist, unarmed except for a tiny knife he had been able to sneak inside his boot, waddled up to the massive daemon-sized door and grabbed the tendon rope that connected to a bell made of a skull and a fibula to summon the moaning master of the home to the door. He was forced to ring the admittedly terrible idea for a bell for many minutes as it did not make much noise compared to a real metal one, but eventually the Bloodthirster was roused from his anguish and came thumping down the stairs to answer the door. He swung it open, prepared to face a group of rowdy peers who wanted to make fun of him, but all he found was a small, skinny cultist who looked fresh from the Chaos Champion Wannabe School, covered in fake electoos that would come off if he washed them with water and fake piercings through his body. While normally Zarakaius would have simply stomped him with his hooved foot and gone back to his bed, he was too depressed to muster the energy to do so, even if he hadn’t been bound by his master to never kill anything again. The Bloodthirster yawned and stretched out his wings lazily. “Well? What do you want, human? Come to make fun of the Bloodthirster who can’t hurt you? Go ahead. I am prepared to face your ridicule,” he spoke in his booming voice, followed by a deep sigh.
	“Uhm… me and my buddies were, uhm… wondering how much longer you were going to, y’know… stay in your house and bemoan your fate?” the cultist said nervously, his legs shaking very visibly.
	“I was shooting for an eternity. Why?” Zarakaius asked, rubbing his bovine nose with a finger.
	“Well… you just have to find love to break the binding, right? Then you can go back to killing things, right?” the cultist asked.
	“That is what the Blood God said. This had better not be going where I think it’s going,” Zarakaius warned the miniscule man.
	“Well, why aren’t you trying to find love?” the cultist asked timidly.
	“Oh! Of course! You just had to say it! Find love? I’m a fighter, not a lover! Do you think I am literally any other kind of daemon? I am a being of pure unbridled hatred and anger! I exist only to kill and gather skulls for my master! Love?! LOVE?! Love is weakness! Love is useless! Love is… the worst! THE WORST!” Zarakaius roared, grabbing his face with his hands and shaking himself as if merely saying the word hurt him. The cultist flinched and fell down from the terror of the Bloodthirster’s rage. Zarakaius raised his hoof in the hopes of bringing it down on the little wannabe villain, but his master’s binding restricted him both physically and mentally, rendering him unable to do the act. Faced with his own impotence, he was frustrated beyond words. “AAAAARGH! FUUUUUUUCK!”
	The cultist continued to cower, crawling backwards away from the doorstep. Zarakaius stepped out after him, intent on somehow sending a message to him and all of his friends to never bother him again. While he couldn’t kill anyone… there was nothing stopping him from beating someone within an inch of their life and impaling them on one of the spikes outside his home to intimidate any further visitors.
	“W-wait! I can help you! I can teach you how to find love!” the faker shouted desperately, holding up his hands as if that would help him at all. Zarakaius stopped.
	“What do YOU know about love?” the Bloodthirster asked, already reaching down to grab the cultist.
	“L-lots of things! I was a regular Casanova on the planet I was born on! Y-you wouldn’t believe the amount of babes I picked up!” the weak cultist lied unconvincingly. Anyone who looked at him could tell that he was the furthest thing from attractive as a prospective mate – he was pasty white, had pathetic thin hair, was not only skinny but most of what little weight he had was flabby and untrained muscle, he was a coward, he was not smart, he was as durable as a glass bottle – and all of this was doubly obvious due to the fact that his weaknesses were what convinced him to join Chaos in the first place, as he could not make it in Imperial society.
	On the other hand, Bloodthirsters were not known for their intelligence or having even moderate understanding of human culture. It all was as alien to them as it was to a toddler. Zarakaius had no way of knowing that the cultist was lying, and actually believed him, amazingly enough. He believed him enough to stop from snapped the man’s spine between his massive red fingers to immobilize him permanently for optimal usefulness as a living warning sign against others like him.
	“So… You will help me?” Zarakaius asked, his massive red eyes narrowing on the cultist’s tiny frame.
	“Y-yes! I could! In fact, I will! A-and I absolutely guarantee success if you follow my instructions to the letter!” the cultist declared.
	Zarakaius considered the proposition intently. Finally, he sighed. Even he had to accept that sucking it up and finding love would be better than spending eternity without killing anything. “Then, teach me,” he said, plopping down to sit on his doorstep carved of bones, staring at the tiny man before him.
	“Uhh… Well… first of all, what would you want in a woman? Or partner. Y’know. Cause I don’t discriminate,” the cultist said.
	“Discriminate?” the daemon asked, confused.
	“Uhh… don’t worry about it. Just answer the question,” the cultist said.
	“Well… I don’t know, really. What should I look for in a woman?”
	“Erm… usually people want their romantic partners to share similar interests, be capable of supporting each other in what they do, and there needs to be a physical aspect of the relationship too, most of the time…” the human explained, mostly going off of what he’d seen in holovids and of real relationships from afar. “Sometimes the physical aspect is the most important… well, really, most of the time it is.  Unfortunately. But you’re a big huge strong guy! With those muscles I’m sure you could pick up plenty of babes!”
	“These muscles are not for attracting mates!” Zarakaius roared. “They are for killing! Maiming! Destroying!” The man flinched and covered his ears timidly.
	“Y-yeah… but they’re attractive to the opposite sex because of what they’re for. There’s, like, an undercurrent of desire for power in all that stuff… look, the point is that you look pretty good for, er…”
	“For WHAT?!”
	“For a, y’know, daemon the size of a tank!”
	“Hmph. I see,” Zarakaius said, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
	“Listen, what are your interests?” the cultist asked.
	“Hrm… I like killing, maiming, burning, eviscerating, tearing, shredding, ripping, immolating, snapping, destroying, breaking, shattering, crushing, blasting, decapitating-“
	“Uhhh, I don’t mean to interrupt you, but do you have any interests that aren’t related to battle?”
	“Of course not! I’m a warrior! Why would I care about anything other than fighting?!”
	“Surely there’s something else! Like, did you build this house yourself?”
	“Yes! Out of the bones and various pieces of my fallen foes, stitched together!”
	“Did you enjoy it?”
	“Great skulls, I’ve never hated anything more in my life! It’s not like just tossing skulls onto the skull throne! It’s a lot of hard work finding bones that fit together and sewing tendons and muscles and organs together with nothing but the hair on your body! Have you ever tried to build a fucking house out of body parts? What do you even use as mortar? It’s stupid!” Zarakaius roared.
	“…then why did you do it?” the man asked, morbidly curious.
	“Because it was the hip thing to do in the thirty-sixth millenium, build a home out of your enemies! Then everyone realized that body parts don’t insulate for shit and they rot in a couple of weeks and then you’re stuck homeless! I keep meaning to burn it all down, but at the end of a long day of fighting, it’s hard to muster up the effort required to do so. Though, now that I’ve got all the time in the universe, maybe I should go ahead and do it,” the Bloodthirster said, testing the strength of one of the oversized bones that acted as a pillar with his huge fist. The bone nearly snapped on impact, various cracks spreading through it.
	“H-how about we focus on the love thing?” the frightened man suggested. Zarakaius shrugged. “Look, let’s forget about interests for now. How can you potentially support a lover in their daily lives?”
	“I’ll crush their enemies and deliver their skulls as gifts to her!” Zarakaius roared proudly.
	“Uh… what if they don’t have any real enemies in particular?”
	“I’ll… uh…”
	“Sooooo what I’m getting from this is that you don’t really have any way to support your loved ones. That’s fine! It’s fine! Nothing to worry about! Love is 99% sex anyways! Believe me, I know! Seen plenty of guys get chicks for no reason other than being bulky!”
	“You sayin’ I ain’t got any desirable qualities aside from my STRENGTH?!” Zarakaius asked furiously.
	“N-no! I’m not saying that!” the cultist protested.
	“Good! Continue!”
	“Just… you know what, maybe we’re going about this the wrong way. Practice makes perfect. How about we set you up on some dates? I’ll go ask around the Eye, see if anyone’s interested! I’m sure we can find a nice, pretty female daemon for you! Even if you don’t score the first few times, it’s valuable experience for later!”
	“That seems… reasonable. It’s like skipping strategy and going straight to the killing! I’m excited! Let’s do this! BRING ME WOMEN!” Zarakaius roared, pumping his fist energetically.
	“I’ll, uh, I’ll be right back. Just… try to spruce the place up, would you?” the cultist suggested, before climbing to his feet and retreating across the rickety body part bridge.
	“Meh! I will do as I please!” the Bloodthirster huffed, crossing his arms angrily.

~~~

	The daemon of Khorne’s patience soon ran thin. The puny man had promised to return shortly, but it had been several weeks and there was no sign of him yet. Zarakaius was tempted to go out and hunt him down and ask one of his buddies to kill the cheeky blighter. He regretted not getting his name before letting him go – that was a big mistake. The giant red daemon had come face-to-face with his own lack of wit once again.
	Zarakaius threw down the broom and dustpan that he had been using to sweep the floors of his huge house in preparation for the potential lady visitors. “This is an outrage!” he cried. Just then, there was a ringing of the bone bell by the front door. Furious, Zarakaius stormed to it and threw it open, only to find that it was the cultist wearing a respirator, accompanied by a strangely feminine and slightly chubby Nurgling. Most of her fat was concentrated into very specific parts of the body – the thighs, bust, hips, and just enough on the stomach to give her love handles. She was quite large for a Nurgling, about eight meters tall, not much shorter than Zarakaius, who was roughly ten meters tall. The cultist deliberately stood several meters away from her for obvious reasons.
	“This is Victoria the Nurglette. She is very eager to meet you! Victoria, this is Zarakaius the Warslayer!” the man said in a cheerful manner as he introduced them to each other. The Nurgling blushed very deeply and gave a little curtsy with the tattered rags that hung down from her pudgy waist, the only clothing she had on her plump form.
	“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir Zarakaius,” she said.
	“W-well, you two have fun now!” the human cultist said, before literally running away, leaving the Bloodthirster with the Nurgling. Zarakaius summoned his fortitude and invited her into his house politely.
	“Oh, a gentleman, how polite!” Victoria said, stepping inside, leaving a grimy slime behind with every step she took. Soon, the pristine white bone floor was already soaked with the disease-packed oils she left behind. Zarakaius repressed his revulsion and sat down in the living room, inviting her to also seat herself, which she did. Unfortunately, her feet were not the only part of her body leaking bodily fluids. The tanned hide chair that she sat in was instantly ruined.
	The red daemon cleared his throat. He wasn’t sure if dates were supposed to be this awful, but he already disliked them immensely. “So, Victoria… Is that really your name? It sounds human.”
	Victoria giggled, the two huge, strangely alluring deposits of fat on her chest jiggling around from the vibrations. “Of course not, silly. My real name is Colundiasporinkulnuviaun, but some of the other Nurglings called me Victoria, because I brought them wonderful victory whenever I joined them in wars!” she said proudly, puffing out her obese chest that was actually quite nice in terms of shape and weight. Zarakaius, however, missed that detail, instead honing in on the state of her rotten flesh and general stench, and felt rising nausea. He suppressed the strange sensation he had rarely felt before, and continued the conversation.
	“Victory, you say? Have you fought in many battles?” he asked, mildly intrigued by the topic.
	“Yes, I have! I’m responsible for breaking the backs of many formations throughout the millennia. Those silly boys just can’t handle a woman like me!” she said, running her hands down her body, starting from her breasts and working her way down to her chunky hips. The Bloodthirster already regretted asking, the putrid flesh the last thing he wanted his eyes drawn to.
	“So… what weapons are you proficient in?”
	“I don’t use many weapons. I prefer to give my enemies a touch they’ll never forget,” she winked at him. Zarakaius was already fairly certain that this was not someone he could find love with, but was also unsure of how to tactfully reject her.
	“W-would you like some refreshments?” Zarakaius asked her, gripping the arms of the large seat he was in tightly.
	“Oh, don’t be so nervous, silly boy. We both know what you want. Even Bloodthirsters have urges; deep, animalistic desires that only an earth goddess like me can satisfy,” Victoria flashed him a sultry smile with her crooked, teeth and crossed her legs, drawing the daemon’s eyes to them. Zarakaius did not appreciate constantly having his attention called to the female Nurgling’s nasty curves, though some deeply repressed part of him was already beginning to make some staggering realizations about the female form…
	“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Zarakaius muttered. “I have some blood if you want it. I can’t drink it anyways.
	“Oh, playing hard to get, hmm? Alright. I like anticipation too~! I’ll have some blood please. Though I wouldn’t mind having other bodily fluids, especially from you,” she cooed.
	“I-I’ll go get that then,” Zarakaius stuttered, getting up and running to his cellar to retrieve a goblet of blood from the deep reservoir of it he kept under the house. When he returned, he found Victoria splayed across his dining table in the spread eagle position, shamelessly masturbating with her hands between her legs as she grinned at him. The goblet of blood came clattering down to the floor, its contents spilling out and rinsing the white bones in red. Despite her disgusting appearance, the Bloodthirster’s eyes locked on the other daemon’s slimy fingers dipping into her thick love mound. A sensation he had never felt before began to grow from his groin, warm and gooey. It was pleasant, almost as pleasant as the taste of blood on his tongue.
	The daemon felt the flap of his loincloth slowly lift with a bulge, his oft-ignored genitals suddenly swelling with his arousal. Victoria’s eyes first darted down expectantly at his manhood, absolutely huge both due to his natural size and apparently having won the lottery for Bloodthirster penis size, and growing even larger in both length and girth as purple veins began to pop out of the red flesh. Finally, at full size, Zarakaius’s erection looked like a Leman Russ’s main gun. A giant, throbbing, red tank cannon. Victoria giggled. “Wow… now that’s what I call packing heat! By Nurgle’s fat flaps, it’s as big as my forearm…”
	Then, she glanced at his massive, veiny balls that hanged low, each one of them the sheer volume of a man. She entertained herself by estimating how much thick cum they actually held. “Mmm… How have you even stayed a virgin this long?” she asked, though Zarakaius was so mesmerized by this new phenomenon that he couldn’t offer an answer. His eyes roamed all over the fluffy peaks of her glistening breasts, flattened by gravity, but the dark green nubs of her nipples standing proudly tall. However, his greedy gaze found an even more enticing target; her sex flower was in full bloom, and dripping with naughty nectar as she used both hands to spread herself wide and show off the dark inner folds of her rotten body. Soon, just by both of them watching each other’s arousal, the tension in the room seemed to reach a boiling point, and both daemons instinctively reacted to fulfill their dark desires.
	“Get over here and fuck me, you stud!” Victoria purred without an ounce of shame. The warrior shuddered, and gave in to his body’s carnal demands, taking heavy steps forward, the tip of his cock approaching its intended destination as it bounced up and down with the momentum of his walk. It seemed like an eternity as he approached her, but suddenly he felt the wonderful warmth, moistness, and softness of the Nurglette’s flesh as he pressed against her folds with a loud squelch. The sensation shot through him like electricity, all of the nerves in his body igniting with passion as his daemonic balls began to visibly churn, twitching and throbbing with countless millennia of built-up seed and repressed lust rapidly being unleashed.
	Zarakaius, paused to enjoy the feeling, didn’t notice the twin trails of drool leaking from his coarse lips and down his chin. He didn’t notice that he was loudly breathing through his equine nostrils like a bull. He barely heard Victoria moaning and begging him to push it in, like a voice in the back of his head. All he could focus on was his throbbing, electric rod as he reached over and grabbed hold of her tender, soft, squishy, and wide hip with his left hand while his right hand instinctively went down to grab his girth and help guide it into her goal. He pressed forward with a lusty grunt, pushing his massive cock head just past her wet entrance and inside of her as she gasped and panted eagerly.
	It was like bathing in the blood of his enemies, but even better. The red daemon could feel something building inside of him, a kind of uncontrollable desperation to force himself deeper inside of her. With a flex of his tight, rippling muscles, he took a small step forward, forcing four dozen centimeters of his monstrous manhood into her, only a small portion of his true size. The passage of his dick into her slippery wet depths created a low and dirty sloshing sound as fluids were displaced and her silky walls stretched and swelled to accommodate him. Zarakaius gave a few shallow, experimental thrusts into her snatch, awkward and unsure of how to angle himself. The Nurglette giggled at him and told him to hurry it up. With another heavy grunt and a step, he forced even more of himself into her, but the pace was too slow for his liking. He grabbed hold of her other hip and pressed forward with both of his legs, giving an unceremonious leap that drove his remaining length inside her to the hilt – and he felt his tip press through her cervix, entering her tight womb. Her slimy juices splashed out, drenching his balls and groin, as she squirmed in place and moaned in heat.
	The Bloodthirster had to take a few moments to adjust to the incredible feeling of his manhood impaling the Nurglette before him. His little warrior was being treated very generously by the inner flesh of the woman – she clenched and rippled around him, slowly acclimating to him as well. Victoria, seeing Zarakaius’s euphoric and dazed state, reached down to grab his hands and pull them up to her chest, closing his fingers around her massive mammaries and showing him how to grope and massage her by guiding them gently. Soon, Zarakaius had the feel for it, and greedily began to squeeze her breasts tighter as he roamed all over them, far too large to be just a handful. Sweat began to drip down Zarakaius’s sinewy body, rolling down from his equine face to his steely muscles, his countenance glistening.
	“So… tight… so… warm… hnnngh…” the red daemon groaned, as if just now realizing what those feelings were. He gave an experimental buck with his hips, and discovered an even better sensation. The way her insides tightly rolled over every centimeter of his shaft, allowing her to feel every vein and bump on his enormous girth, was unbelievable to him. He pulled his hips back further and gave a much heavier, much more confident thrust, slamming his hips into her thighs and grunting like a beast. Victoria grinned at the virgin daemon, enjoying both the sex and watching him slowly come to understand it himself. Zarakaius gave a few more slow bucks before he grew dissatisfied with it, wanting more pleasure and wanting it immediately. He began to rhythmically pump her with his meat, quickly becoming nothing more than a ravenous beast as he slammed himself inside of her only to swing out and do it again, faster and faster and faster.
	Zarakaius was now desperately kneading her tits, enjoying the soft weight and size and warmth of her peaks almost as much as he enjoyed her pussy. His rhythm collapsed into mindless humping, trying to fuck her even harder and even faster, much to her glee. He could feel something weird and powerful building up inside of him, something that made him feel anxious and almost scared. He had no idea what it was until it was almost too late – but his rudimentary understanding of procreation finally allowed him to understand that it was his climax just as he buried his tremendous girth as deep inside of her as it could go, his gigantic balls tightening, their load flowing through his cock like a hurricane, causing it to throb uncontrollably.
The first spurt erupted into Victoria’s womb with enough force for her to feel it, and she moaned like a whore as she grabbed onto her steed’s arms to prepare for the rest of it. Even she wasn’t really ready for what was coming, though. With a bestial groan, with every muscle in his rippling body flexing and straining to push out his spunk harder and faster, the second spurt exploded into her with even more power, almost pushing her away if not for her anchored arms. She already felt warm and full, but she knew better than to think that Zarakaius was anywhere near finished. Giving a drawn-out groan, and producing the low, wet rumble of countless gallons of fluids flowing through his manhood, he continued to unload his balls into her, the promised amounts of built-up cum finally coming out in huge, thick ropes, easily enough semen to drown an orphanage.
	The Bloodthirster spent several minutes just pumping his baby batter into the sensual and voluptuous female daemon. Incredibly, she devoured every last drop of it with her pussy and womb, demonstrating a bit of her daemonic powers to do so. She let out a piercing cry of ecstasy, the burning, musky, daemonic cum of the servant of Khorne flowing through her entire being and driving her to her own peak. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity of pleasure, Zarakaius slumped over Victoria, panting and completely exhausted. His balls were several sizes smaller now, completely emptied into his partner with gusto. Victoria, covered in a gleaming mixture of her natural slime and her sweat, smiled at him and leaned up to plant a kiss on his lips, pressing her long, rotten tongue into his mouth. He grunted and met her tongue with his own, returning the kiss deeply and sloppily.
Finally, they broke off, and Victoria giggled. “That was great for a first-timer,” she said in a sultry voice. “Wanna go again?”
	The haze of lust and desire seemed to fall away from the Bloodthirster’s mind. He looked at the chubby and rotten body of the daemon he had just plowed, realized what he had just indulged in, and felt sick. Not so much because of her body, but because he had just violated countless millennia of his own raison d'être. The revulsion traveled up his throat lightning fast, and despite desperately trying to swallow it down and disentangle himself from the poor daemon underneath him, he was unable to stop it from spewing out from his lips, blasting all over the sexy earth goddess in front of him and soaking her in bile and undigested raw meat. He finally managed to pull away from her, his softening dick slipping out of her wet flower with a schlurp, but the damage had already been done. He averted his eyes with shame.
	“Oh! So that’s what you’re into! Don’t worry, I kinda like it too… vomit on me more, Zarakaius! Cover me, drown me in your bile!” Victoria moaned, running her hands all over her pudgy body, the slime and sweat mixing with the vomit to create a truly vile concoction. He vomited again at the sight of this, this time spilling it all out on the ground. “Nooo~! I’m over here, silly! Oh! I get it, you want me to lick it up off of the floor! Kinky!” she said.
	The Bloodthirster’s will snapped. He couldn’t handle another second of this. He simply had to run away from the terrible creature that had seduced him and violated his existence. With great, bounding strides, he bolted out of the house and grabbed the nearby well that he used to pull up buckets of magma from the river below for bathing purposes. He pulled the warp-enchanted steel bucket up with one mighty swing of his arm, then grabbed it and tossed it out onto the flesh-and-bone building that was formerly his home, now only a shelter for pure diabolical evil. The magma instantly ignited the fat and flesh of the house, and he threw many more buckets of the molten rock onto the conflagration for good measure. He could hear screams of pleasure echoing out from the flames, which only scared him more. Was there anything that wasn’t a turn on for that daemon?!

~~~

Ten minutes later, after tearing apart the bridge over the fiery chasm to leave the foul creature without a path across, Zarakaius sat down on a nearby boulder and watched the fire quickly demolish his home. The human returned, climbed up on the other side of the boulder, and peeked around the bulk of the mighty red daemon to see the damage. “Did… did you kill her?” he asked out of morbid curiosity.
	“Throne of skulls, I wish that were so. But she’s unstoppable. This will only slow her down. I’m sure of it,” he said with a heavy, shuddering sigh of fear.
	“Yeah, sorry about that. She was really the only girl I could find that was interested though,” the cultist said, leaving out how many women were uninterested simply because of him being a pathetic and weak mortal. “But it’s good practice, right?!”
	“If that is what a date is normally like, I am more comfortable giving up killing and the drinking of blood forever, rather than pursuing such a terrible, hateful thing as love,” Zarakaius declared.
	“N-now hold on just a minute, that’s not what most dates are like! I promise you, most women are a lot less weird and crazy than that! I’ll prove it by bringing a much better candidate next time!”
	“I hope to Khorne that you’re right about that…”
	“So, what are you going to do now?”
	“I’m getting off of this planet, for one thing. Malevolia has been fun, but I’ve got to escape. Too many bad memories. And she’s likely to find me again. I can’t stay here.”
	“Where to?” the cultist asked out of curiosity.
	“I’m thinking… Torvendis. Specifically the City of Lady Charybdia.”