The Harlot's Coin Heresy- Safe for Sigil Edition

Behold, Zelatar! City of demons, sprawling metropolis of sin and depravity and hidden danger! Capital of the triple-realm of Azzagrat, the greatest and largest of the abyssal domains! Home to thousands of tanar‘ri, lamias and cambions, lair of tieflings, harpies and Slaad!

Behold, the Argent Palace! Sixty six spired fortress built from celestial ivory stolen from the seven heavens! Seat of power of the realm’s dread ruler, home to his harems, treasuries and dungeons!

Deep within the Argent Palace, past mirrored halls and wailing bodaks, passed deadly mariliths and cushioned lounges of black velvet, was the throne of Zelatar.

High backed and made from the black wood of the eldest viper trees, decorated with rubies cut into the shape of hands and abyssal engravings. It overlooked a vast throne room, with a high ceiling and three tall windows that offered an impressive view of  Zelatar. One could see different cityscapes from each portal, each a glimpse into one of the three abyssal layers that comprised Azzagrat. Flocks of vrocks could be seen taking flight in the wan cerulean light of Voor’zt, a parade filled the main streets of Barogund and even in the gloom of Rauwend one could make out the bright lights of the city’s innumerable bordellos, opium dens, dueling rings and other places of depravity.

The throne room was filled with monsters and demons, lion-bodied lamia and horned tieflings. Succubi and Incubi leered at the occupant of the throne, and consorted with the corpulent, porcine Nalfeshnee who imperiously judged all those before it. A pair of Mariliths armed with wands, scepters and bastard swords kept the crowd from the foot of the throne, and they scanned the crowd of capering Babaus, scheming Glabrezu and succulent Alu-Fiends with cold, reptilian eyes.

Seated on that black throne, overseeing the throng of tanar’ri was an awesome figure. Nine feet tall, though he could seem twice that up close, with smooth, shiny, flawless skin as black as the night. Darkly handsome, he was dressed in regal finery, though his pointed ears and yellow fangs marked him for the demon he was. His backwards-jointed legs terminated in six-toed feet, and his six-fingered hands sported many rings and jewels. He wore no crown; instead, six small horns encircled his brow, poking free from his curly dark hair. Even more striking was something invisible to the eye, an aura of absolute confidence and masculinity, a feeling that all members of the room, and likely the city itself, could feel weighing down on them, daring them to compare themselves to his majesty. Smug, arrogant, and rightly so, he was the ruler of the largest abyssal realm, commander of the most legions in the lower planes, father of gods and conqueror of worlds. One of the few who could contend for the title of Prince of Demons, the black-skinned figure was beyond compare, one could use a million words to describe him, but his dread nature could be realized in three.

He was Graz’zt.

Waukeen huffed and folded her arms, forcing herself to turn away from Graz’zt. The goddess of wealth, The Merchant’s Friend, had been the Dark Prince’s unwilling guest for years, ever since she had brokered a deal with him for safe passage across the Abyss. True to his chaotic evil nature, Graz’zt had demanded a change in the terms of their agreement once she arrived, and kept her captive until he decided it was time to renegotiate.

She lacked the divine power she once had, being forced to take corporeal form. In her captivity Graz’zt had feigned hospitality, throwing banquets in his guest’s honor, and shuttling her to and fro from his palace to the pleasure town of Samora. Even though he kept a close watch on her, he sometimes allowed the goddess to grant small miracles to her flock in the material plane.

It had seemed like a gesture of kindness at first, allowing some of what little divine power she retained to escape the abyss and grant blessings to her faithful. Then had come the bargaining. He had demanded things from her before allowing her to tend to her flock; a touch on the arm, a sniff of her hair. Waukeen was a patron of bargaining and haggling, but trapped in Graz’zt’s realm, he held all the cards, she couldn’t argue him down.

Then he had asked more and more of her. To answer prayers, she needed to let him rub her back, watch her disrobe, run those fingers over her naked form. Then he had stopped. Ignored her. Confined her to a demonic caravan and shuffled her around Azzagrat. She had come crawling back to him, begging him to let her answer her faithful’s prayers.

The dark prince had ignored her, instead turned his attentions to his other concubines spending his time with them. It was a reprieve from the lurid demon at first, but the goddess found more and more prayers to her were going unanswered. She had to compete with the veritable army of Graz’zt’s harlots for his attention, had to beg and plead for him to grant her the ability to tend to her flock.

He had the upper hand in this deal now, she had come crawling to him.

“There are only so many ways I can spend my time,” was his response, “I have endless pleasures of the flesh at my fingertips, men and women from around the planes I have selected for their charms. What can you offer me that they cant?”

And what did the weakened Goddess have? Her divinity was in fragments, her wealth scattered and spent. All she had was her body. And she had let him take it; let his black hands encircle her and drive her mortal body wild with sensations, let the dark lord claim her sex.

A heavy feminine sigh and a throaty chuckle from behind her brought Waukeen back to the present. The gold-tressed goddess, even this deep in the underworld, her appearance was divine. Slender and tall, youthful and composed, with lustrous blonde hair and eyes that appeared to be made of solid gold. She sparkled like a precious gemstone, her pouty lips like rubies and her nails like marble.

But behind her, leaning over the demon lord, was another women that had stolen Graz’zt’s attention from her. Ever since that whore had arrived, Waukeen had been unable to tear Graz’zt away, unable to regain his favor and answer the Waukeenar’s prayers.

“Your lips never fail to excite me,” crooned Graz’zt, before satirically adding, “my love.”

Bent over him at the foot of his throne was Iggwilv, the Witch Queen of Perrenland, the mother of witches from a far away material world. Voluptuous and sultry, the well-endowed witch’s hands were stroking Graz’zt’s masculine chest, her black nails digging into his skin with uncontrolled desire. Her long dark hair fell around and obscured her head and those succulent lips-painted green with magical reagents-were locked around Graz’zt’s member, ropey strands of demonic precum mixed with saliva leaking out of the corners of her mouth.

Waukeen couldn’t tear her eyes away as Iggwilv sucked and sucked, selfishly hogging Graz’zt, taking all his attention for herself. The black demon grinned, resting his handsome chin on one hand and balling up the witch’s hair with another. The mob of demons clamored for a better view, none daring edge close enough to draw Graz’zt’s ire, but all wanting to get some voyeuristic pleasure from watching.

The demon lord’s masculine chest heaved as he inhaled, pushing Iggwilv deeper down onto his member. She couldn’t hear it over the din, but Waukeen could see the foul witch gag, her body spasming as that night-black cock entered her throat. Iggwilv’s hands tore at the demon’s abdomen, failing to break his skin but leaving long furrows as she flailed. Her legs thrashed as she gagged for air, and Waukeen couldn’t help but become the smallest bit aroused by the sight. The sight of what the demon lord’s raw masculinity was capable of, how it could drive even the mother of witches wild, caused Waukeen’s sex to grow hot, the goddess biting her lip as she watched.

A jeering demon cackled something in the Abyssal tongue and pointed at Waukeen, and the goddess felt shame wash over her. Looking at Graz’zt could be dangerous; his face, his physique, his aura, it could overcome one’s senses and make one utterly fixated on his beauty, his charisma, making one forget where they were and what they were doing. It was like looking into the sun, robbing one of their sight but filling one with warmth, making it difficult, sometimes impossible to look away. Waukeen had forgotten the horde of fiends watching Graz’zt’s union, had once again become enthralled in the sight of the ebon prince. Still, the crowd did nothing to inhibit Waukeen’s arousal, her hips rubbing together as she shifted in place, watching as Iggwilv slowly withdrew off the demon lord, her lips coming free with a pop. A mess of spittle and seed had pooled on her breasts, and her heavy breathing caused her bosom to heave and bounce.

“There is none in the whole abyss that can compare to you,” gasped Iggwilv, half-lidded eyes gazing into Graz’zt’s cocky gaze. She let her mouth hang open, a heavy droplet of cum and saliva slowly dripping out, hanging on to her green lips with a thread. One of the demon lord’s black fingers scooped it up, letting the white glob  rest on his dark skin.

“None whose cock can measure up to yours,” she continued, her hands descending to Graz’zt’s three-balled scrotum.

“Even Demogorgon, thrice curse his name, must envy your virility.” Iggwilv punctuated her statement by placing a deep kiss on Graz’zt’s balls, sucking on them and running her tongue-pierced with a tiny cold-iron stud-over the sack. Graz’zt’s whole body shuddered, the metal that was anathema to tanar’ri kind causing pain in addition to the pleasure of Iggwilv’s mouth.

“That split minded baboon isn’t the only one overcome with envy,” said Graz’zt, his gaze fixing on the blushing Waukeen. He pointed the finger with the glob of drool at Waukeen, his comely face adopting a welcoming smile at odds with his malicious eyes.

“See my love,” he continued, his unblinking stare holding Waukeen’s body rigid, “my guest desires riches.” He rolled the finger, letting the blob of saliva and semen roll around his nail.

“She’s greedy like that, isn’t she?” Replied Iggwilv, cradling his hot, seed-filled testicles and shooting a wicked glance over her shoulder at the Merchant’s Friend.

“Oh she is, she is now. Ever since she got a taste of me she’s coveted me like treasure. She wont let any of the hundreds of others that want my attention have me, instead she wants to selfishly hoard me. Can you believe that my love? The Golden Lady’s greatest treasure the black prince of tyrants?”

Waukeen felt indignant, being called out like this, in front of a crowd of Graz’zt’s sycophants. The demons cackled, even the normally stoic mariliths that guarded the throne chuckling to themselves and casting their cold, mocking gazes at Waukeen. Somehow, one of her hands had started cupping her breast, the limb moving without her control. She couldn’t control her arousal; the sight of Graz’zt enough to excite a boiling heat in a mortal woman, and Waukeen’s avatar was no different. Her eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from the Witch Queen’s hand as it rolled Graz’zt’s three testicles around, couldn’t stop the burning waves of arousal from growing hotter and hotter.

“Do you think she’d like to join us?” Cooed Iggwilv, taking another long suck on the tip of Graz’zt’s cock and staring intently at the golden goddess as she did so.

Before she could think about it, the patron of wealth and commerce had wordlessly mouthed ‘yes’.

Graz’zt laughed, and crooked the finger, inviting Waukeen to approach the throne. The demons roared, a balor’s flames turning bright blue from excitement, and the marilith guards had to put down a tiefling who became overwhelmed and tried to pass by their six-armed guard.

Her legs shaky and her sex wet, Waukeen walked towards the evil pair, her hands fumbling with the torn dress she wore. She had only got the skirt off when she was within arms reach of Graz’zt, his gorgeous looks and overwhelming aura overpowering all senses, demanding every fraction of her attention. She could make out the slight curve of his cock as Iggwilv ran her pierced tongue along it’s side, the way his curly hair sometims caught on his horns, the slight sneer in his expression.

Waukeen stopped at the outstretched digit, ogling the glob of spittle. The demon lord nodded, and she parted her lips, her mouth opening into a perfect O. Shutting her eyes and drawing in his scent-sweat, sex, perfumes, spices and stranger smells- she took the finger into her mouth, locking her ruby lips around the ebony digit and sucking. She sucked hard and greedy, savoring the taste of her host and running her tongue over the tip. The glob of saliva and semen was salty and sweet, she could taste Iggwilv in it, though she was all but overwhelmed by the taste of the demon lord’s seed.

Waukeen’s lips pulled against Graz’zt’s skin, suckling his finger and running her tongue over it. It pressed against the bottom of her mouth, forcing her to look down at Iggwilv. The witch queen’s eyes met with hers, and she slowly withdrew her head off Graz’zt’s member. When her lips finally parted with that black rod her eyes fluttered invitingly, her face contorting into a cocky smirk.

“Its your turn to worship now,” she said, resting her hand on Waukeen’s rear. A Vrock in the crowd applauded the sight, cawing raucously and clapping his talons together.

Graz’zt’s finger slid out of Waukeen’s mouth, and she squatted down beside Iggwilv, the demon lord’s black phallus hanging tantalizingly in front of her. The witch queen’s hands quickly undid Waukeen’s bodice, the garment dropping and exposing her breasts to the warm, heavy air. The Golden Lady, the Merchant Maiden, was totally exposed now, both to the lord of Azzagrat and the horde of demons behind her. If it weren’t for the comely monster in front of her occupying the entirety of her attention, Waukeen would have felt great shame from the multitude of gazes feasting on her, pouring over her rear and wet, dripping sex.

She could smell it, that raw, bestial scent of Graz’zt’s maleness, could feel the witch queen’s manicured hand rubbing her rear and adding to her intense arousal. She needed no provocation, she needed to feel him, to feel that magnificent penis inside her. Her bleary mind had forgotten her followers, forgotten her deal with Graz’zt, the only thing important to her was that amazing black spear.

Her golden locks fell around her face as it descended, the powerful aroma of Graz’zt’s sex forcing her to shut her eyes. Again her ruby lips parted, this time kissing the head of her host’s cock. The taste of it sent shivers through her body, inviting her to take more of it into her mouth. It filled her mouth, pressing against her tongue and spreading her lips wide as she lowered her head. Iggwilv shifted beside her, the dark haired sorceress’ head moving beneath Waukeen’s. The goddess could feel the tip of his cock pressing against the back of her throat, and she gagged, spittle escaping the corners of her mouth that weren’t occupied with dark demonic meat. Iggwilv lapped at the spittle, drawing her tongue from the edge of Waukeen’s mouth down to her demonic lover’s scrotum and back up.

Waukeen sucked, making a tight seal around the grinning demon’s shaft, drawing in as much of that devilishly seductive taste. Up and down the Golden Lady went, fellating the black rod with deific energy, gripping Graz’zt’s knees as she bent over his crotch. Her breasts dangled like golden fruit, nipples hard and erect, and the goddess uttered a stifled moan when Iggwilv’s hand seized them and began to squeeze.

A succubus in the crowd screamed in orgasm as a bull-headed bulezau rammed its member into her, and a pride of lamias had formed a twisted mess of fur and flesh as they rutted. Most of the crowd of demons had started copulating, even the marilith guards using the tips of their tails or a spare hand to rub their exposed sexes. Those without a willing partner took one by force, a balor and nafleshnee having gone to blows over a lilitu who lustfully watched the scene on the throne. She hardly seemed to notice as a tiefling with pearly white skin and a grotesquely large mouth mounted her and hammered away at her anus, the lilitu’s tentacles wrapping around his legs to keep him from withdrawing. The demons’ lusts were palpable, a tangible force that hung in the air, like a cloud of smoke, but even their combined desires could not compare to Waukeen’s.

Finally, gasping for breath, her breasts heaving with effort, the goddess relinquished Graz’zt’s member, gazing longingly into his sneering face.

“Enjoying yourself down there?” Said the seated outsider, cupping Waukeen’s drooling face in one six fingered hand and violently pulling Iggwilv by off him by her hair.

“More than I thought possible,” whined Waukeen, aggressively rubbing her face against Graz’zt’s palm. “Please let me have more.”

“The greedy whore shows her true colors,” said Iggwilv, “once you want something, you cant stop until its yours, am I right?”

Waukeen kept silent, glaring at Iggwilv as Graz’zt released the witch. The dark haired villainess seized the saliva-drenched member by the base and ran her tongue up the side, the little metal ball of her piercing pressed between that hot black spear and her wet, flexible tongue.

“Well tonight, Mrs. Golden Godling,” she whispered into the meat of Graz’zt’s member, “you need to share.”

Waukeen sighed in frustration. She was right, she wanted Graz’zt, needed him immensely. Waukeen was the patron of merchants, trade, and wealth, and of smugglers, black markets and underhanded cons. Greed was always part of her portfolio, but always a small dark aspect of it she tried to ignore. Her religion encouraged it, lionized, deified the acquisition of more and more. Now that dark side of her sphere was growing, overwhelming her like Graz’zt’s aura overwhelmed her senses. She didn’t just want Graz’zt’s cock, she wanted to own it, to hoard it for herself and forbid anyone else from touching it, all so she could spend more and more time on that wonderful organ.

“You don’t think you’ve swallowed enough of his seed hag?” Spat Waukeen, seizing the base of the cock herself. “Will you only be satisfied when you choke on his sperm?”

“Mmm, he’d like that, wouldn’t you lover?” Replied Iggwilv as she lapped at Graz’zt’s cock again.

“Happy?” Said Graz’zt, running his fingers through the witch queen’s hair and cupping the back of her scalp. “Why I’d be heartbroken! My precious son Iuz would be left motherless, and who would I turn to when I want more than a quick roll in the hay?”

He pushed the witch queen against his shaft, encouraging her to lick the side again.

“That is of course, if I had a heart,” he scoffed, grabbing a fistful of Waukeen’s golden hair and shoving her face into his cock as well. His six-toed feet tapped happily to themselves as the two women faced each other, the treasure they prized separating them by scant inches.

Waukeen was the first to break the stare, opening her mouth and twisting her head so that she could suckle on the side of the demon lord’s cock. The taste was enough to make her forget the hateful sorceress across from her, though she did register when Iggwilv’s lips and tongue resumed their rapid movements up and down Graz’zt’s shaft. Sometimes the two women’s mouths met, and they were at first quick to break off from their crude kisses. But as the pleasure of Graz’zt’s sex enveloped them, their inhibitions soon faded, and as Iggwilv and Waukeen reached the head of Graz’zt’s penis they locked eyes, both still hateful but so overcome with lust.

Their lips met around his head, tongues dancing together as they both worked to stroke the delicious organ. Graz’zt laughed again, pushing the two women’s heads closer together, preventing them from breaking the perverted lip lock. Iggwilv tasted like sour apples and expensive wines, at least that’s what Waukeen could sense beneath the overpowering taste of demon cock.

In a blur of motion, the lusty witch released the black phallus and grabbed the sides of Waukeen’s face, driving her tongue deep into the other woman’s mouth. Her kiss was surprisingly full of passion, and the cold iron stud sent shivers through the goddess as it brushed against her.

The Golden Lady was shocked, in her time as deity she had known the physical love only of men, and never of one so chaotic and debased as the queen of Perrenland. It was a strange cascade of sensations; of soft lips, sensuous tongue, sexy feminine body pressed so alluringly close to her. Her legs quivered as droplets of fluid ran down her legs, a small pool of lubricant forming beneath the goddess.

The shaking goddess rose to her feet, straddling the demon lord’s crotch. Her dripping sex hovered above Graz’zt’s, and her breathing became rapid as she braced for what was to come.

“Iggwilv, help our guest out, will you,” said Grazzt, placing his hands on Waukeen’s hips. His grip was firm and comforting, his smooth skin and strong muscles caressing the goddess’ golden body.

“Well who am I to refuse you?” Sighed Iggwilv sarcastically, arising from her kneeling position. “I only hope that this gilded whore enjoys her ride,” Iggwilv gripped Waukeen’s shoulders hard, causing her to wriggle in the pair’s grasps.

The witch pushed down, forcing Waukeen’s legs to buckle and her sex to descend onto Graz’zt. She whined as her drenched lips parted, the head of the black invader spreading her wide. Iggwilv rested her head on Waukeen’s shoulder and moved so that her body was pressed tightly to the goddess’ back, her sharp chin and luscious mouth against Waukeen’s chin.

“I hope you like this as much as I would, you patron of whores and pimps. Every time a trollop’s sold herself for coin, it’s been in your honor. Every little boy or fat old man that’s bought a ladies honor has in some way prayed to you. Its only fitting you know what it was they felt like, oh queen of commerce, it’s the oldest trade in the planes!”

With that, Iggwilv slammed Waukeen down on Graz’zt’s rod. The goddess screamed and threw her head back, her bright golden hair waving through the air. Her eyes were wide with pain and pleasure in equal measure, the overload of sensations wracking her body. Her arms waved and sought for purchase, finding only Graz’zt’s body to hang on to as her torso shook. Her sex squeezed tightly on the penetrating member, and she quivered as the sensations of it buried within her became stronger and stronger. Graz’zt’s hands rocked her up and down, back and forth, rolling himself deep within her heat. The feeling of Iggwilv’s warm, sweaty body and large, soft breasts against her back were just an afterthought, something she noticed in between pulses of ecstasy.

Again and again the demon lord thrust slid deeper into her. Her walls clenched tightly to him, every up thrust making her cry out. Iggwilv’s hands migrated down the goddess’ body, stroking and clawing at her shoulders, then her breasts.

“You like this my lord?” She asked, gazing lustfully at Graz’zt, cupping Waukeen’s breasts and pressing them together.

“When was the last time you defaced a god’s body?”

Graz’zt guffawed and thrust even more powerfully into Waukeen, almost making her bounce into the air. Her moans were bestial now, containing none of the elegance or grace the goddess was known for. Deep, animalistic grunts that came form deep within her, in time with the demon’s relentless pounding at her entrance. She wasn’t even looking at him anymore, her hand clutched tightly at his chest, but her head was inclined back, mouth open and eyes shut, totally lost in the sensations of being impaled.

“Tell him what you want Waukeen,” whispered Iggwilv, pinching the goddess’ nipples and running her fingers over her soft breast-flesh.

“Tell the lord of Azzagrat what you want him to do.”

It took a few moments for Waukeen to control her mouth, to suppress the feverish moaning.

“I want…I want him to cum,” she groaned, grinding her hips in hopes of getting more of that wonderful cock inside her. She came when she uttered that little heresy, her vaginal walls constricting the black spear and causing her back to arch. She screamed again, and the violent crowd watching applauded as her body was rocked by the waves of burning hot pleasure her orgasm heralded. Thick droplets of her own cum escaped her sex, stark white against Graz’zt’s black skin.

“Say it again,” growled Graz’zt in an imperious tone, his hands squeezing her cheeks so tight, keeping himself as deep as possible inside his prisoner.

“I want you to cum, I want you to give me all of your cum and shoot it inside of me!”

“Greedy slut,” laughed Iggwilv, slapping the quivering god’s rear.

“Say it a third time,” said Graz’zt, cupping her chin and bringing the golden goddess face to face with his black majesty.

“Please,” whined Waukeen, “please I need it, I need you to cum in me!”

“Well who am I to refuse a god?” He scoffed, pulling her in for a kiss. Her lips allowed his tongue entrance, the thick muscle penetrating her mouth and stroking the insides of her jaw.

The crowd was breaking up, tanar’ri retreating continue their excess away from their master, both for fear of his ire and that he might try and meddle with their affairs.

As Graz’zt held Waukeen, his cock twitched three times, then exploded into a torrent of hot, sticky cum. She came again, her body squeezing tight to hold in his seed, but there was so much that some leaked out, dripping out of her sex. Waukeen had never felt so filled, so ecstatic, the pleasures of her union with the demon incomparable to anything she had experienced, mortal or divine.

She could feel the deluge of hot seed flowing inside her, the evil cum like fire in her body. She wanted more, wanted it all for herself, wanted every drop to belong to her.

Graz’zt finally broke the kiss, let go of her head and let the exhausted goddess collapse in Iggwilv’s grasp. She lay impaled on him for some time, panting and shivering with aftershocks. The demons had had their fill and gotten board, and were starting to filter out, taking the unconscious with them for whatever nefarious purposes they could imagine. Only the two marilith guards were left, keeping vigil over the contortion of flesh behind them.

Later, in the bedroom of Graz’zt, Waukeen re-donned her expensive gown, with it’s cape of gold coins and creamy white bodice woven from strips of polished metal. Looking in the mirror she put on her many rings, redid her hair, hung emerald earrings from her beautiful face. A dark figure reflected in the mirror smirked at her, his gaze still causing arousal to build within her.

“And so you shall return to Toril, and I will aid in financing your church.” Said the comely demon, his arms folded in cocky superiority.

“You will be god again, at least in the peoples eyes. And in return…”

“In return,” replied Waukeen, the regal composure in her voice broken by how powerful the lusty impulses she fought were, “in return I will give you my divinity, in the form of our daughter.”