CHAPTER 159: NECTAR (18+)

The temple pulsed like it was alive.

The shattered runes, the moaning bodies, the thick scent of sex—every inch of stone radiated Allen’s new law. There was no going back. The altar was no longer a holy place. It was a breeding throne. And Allen sat atop it now, his cock still gleaming from the throat of the last priestess who’d taken him so deep her eyes had rolled back.

She lay collapsed at his feet, drooling, twitching, her belly twitching from the fullness he’d left inside.

Allen didn’t speak.

He didn’t need to.

The women came to him.

One after another.

Crawling. Panting. Pleading.

"Please... my turn..."

"Let me feel what she felt..."

"Use me..."

Their robes were torn, soaked, thrown aside like petals. Breasts swung free. Hips wiggled as they crawled on all fours, their faces flushed, their pussies dripping so hard the marble below them glistened. One acolyte—young, wide-eyed, trembling—reached the steps of the altar and lifted her chest with both hands.

"Breed me next, High One..."

Allen grabbed her hair and dragged her up without a word, flipping her over his lap like a toy.

Her gasp turned into a shriek as he pushed in without pause. SPLLLRT—THRRMP—!!

"Ahh—HAAA!! F-Fuck—!!"

Her thighs kicked. Her back arched. Her belly bulged.

She wasn’t a virgin—but she was tight enough to scream as Allen pounded her against his throne, her cries mixing with the wet rhythm of his thrusts. SLAP—SLAP—SLORRCHK—!!

She drooled over the altar. He yanked her arms back and folded her into a mating press, her legs flailing helplessly as he drove deeper and deeper. Each thrust shook the throne. Each grunt from Allen made the others whimper with anticipation.

Behind her, another priestess mounted the altar and lowered herself onto Allen’s face. Her thighs squeezed his head the moment his tongue found her slit. "Ahh—Hhhn—!"

His cock never stopped slamming the girl beneath him. His tongue didn’t slow for a second. The two girls writhed against each other, one sobbing out pleasure, the other riding his mouth like her soul depended on it.

All around the temple, more women touched themselves, fingering their drenched folds, watching like worshippers at the climax of a sermon. Guards with scarred bodies moaned as they pinched their nipples and begged to be taken. Scholars pushed their glasses up just to see better as their soaked panties hit the floor. A former rival priestess shoved a writhing novice down onto the ground and licked her like an animal.

Allen came.

With a growl like thunder, he slammed deep into the girl under him and pumped her full. Her body jerked—one long, drawn-out orgasm ripping through her as a fat, hot flood of cum rushed into her womb. "I-I’m—CUMMING—!!"

The girl on his face screamed too, her thighs locking as her juices sprayed across his lips. "Don’t stop—DON’T STOP—AHH!!"

Allen tossed them both aside like they were light as air.

Cum poured out of them.

He stood, cock still hard—no, harder—from being soaked in worship.

Another approached. A muscular temple guard with tribal tattoos and lust-blind eyes. "Make me break..." she whispered, placing his cock between her breasts and squeezing it tight.

He fucked her tits while slapping the ass of a priestess bent over beside him, his other hand fisting a whimpering scholar’s hair as she begged to be next. The guard looked up, eyes crossing as the tip of his cock slapped her lips with every thrust. "I wanna taste it... wanna choke on it..."

Allen grabbed her horns and drove himself into her mouth so hard her throat bulged.

SCHLURRRK—GLRK—GLLK—!!

The sounds echoed through the temple like hymns. Allen’s body was slick with sweat, with spit, with cum—yet he moved like a machine. Every woman he touched melted. Every hole he used became sacred. The temple walls glowed faintly now with corrupted magic, the runes bleeding light that pulsed in rhythm with his thrusts.

He spun the muscular guard around and bent her over, stuffing her full while still fucking the scholar’s mouth. A trail of cum leaked from the last girl’s thighs as she lay twitching nearby, her fingers still rubbing circles around her clit even after being bred silly.

He came again.

Flooded the guard.

Her scream shook the ceiling.

He didn’t stop.

The scent of corrupted incense mingled with sweat and semen, hanging heavy in the air like a drug. Every breath was thick with it. The temple had stopped pretending it was holy. Whatever gods had once watched over it had been drowned in moans, their echoes lost in the rhythmic slap of flesh.

Allen stood over the altar, dripping in sweat, his cock glistening with spit and pussy-juice. The marble beneath him was stained with slick trails—proof of how many women had knelt, straddled, choked, and squirted under his hand.

At his feet, five of them lay dazed in a pile, limp and quivering. Their bellies swelled slightly with seed, thighs trembling, holes still twitching like they wanted more even in unconsciousness.

But the line had only grown.

They hadn’t run.

They hadn’t hesitated.

No one in the temple wanted salvation now. They wanted Allen. They wanted ruin.

The next girl stepped forward—a dark-scaled lizard priestess with wide hips and nervous eyes. She held her hands together like in prayer, even as her thighs rubbed with need.

"Bless me..." she whispered.

Allen grabbed her throat, pulled her close, and kissed her with tongue and teeth. Her tail twitched, curling around his leg. When he broke the kiss, she was panting, eyes glazed.

He bent her over the altar and shoved in without a word.

SQUELCH—!!

She arched her back with a cry that turned into an open-mouthed moan, tongue hanging out as Allen gripped her hips and pounded. Her ass rippled with every thrust. The sound echoed—wet, relentless, obscene.

His pace was brutal.

SPLACK—SPLACK—SPLACK!!

Every thrust rocked her forward. Her breasts slammed into the altar. Her claws scraped the edge. The priestess came in minutes, body seizing as slick gushed from between her thighs—but Allen didn’t stop. He dragged it out of her. He forced it out again. And again.

Cum drooled down her inner thighs.

"W-Why does it feel so good to be defiled...?" she whimpered.

He finished deep inside her, pulling out with a messy squelch. The priestess collapsed, twitching as thick globs of white trickled down her legs, staining her black-scaled thighs.

He turned, and there she was.

The rival high priestess.

She’d resisted before. Called him filth. Called him mortal.

Now she was on her knees.

Her sacred staff lay discarded beside her. Her robes were gone. Her body was bare, beautiful, soaked in the juices of others. She crawled forward, her tits swaying, her fingers already parting her own folds as she stared up at Allen’s cock like it was the sun itself.

"Please..." she whispered. "Make me yours too. I... I want to feel what they felt..."

He didn’t say a thing.

He simply pressed his cock to her lips.

She opened wide, eyes never leaving his.

He slid in.

SLLRPPP—!!

Her throat opened like it had been made to take him. She choked. Gagged. Swallowed. Her fingers worked her pussy with wild, desperate speed as she let Allen use her face like a hole. He gripped her hair, guiding the rhythm. She drooled over her chin. Her eyes teared up.

The moment he pulled out and came across her face—fat, ropy spurts painting her cheeks and forehead—she climaxed too, hips jerking as she screamed into his thighs.

He smeared his cum into her cheeks with his cock and tossed her aside.

The altar called for more.

A pair of guards came forward next—tall, muscular, both panting and already touching each other.

Allen made them worship him together.

One between his legs, lips wrapped around the base. The other on top of her, licking his tip like it was an offering. They kissed around his cock, shared spit, sucked him down like starving beasts. When they fought for who would take him first, Allen bent them both over, one on top of the other, and stuffed the top one first.

He fucked through them both.

Pounding the top girl so hard, her moans made the bottom one’s mouth vibrate around his balls. They came together, shrieking, clawing at the altar. He filled both their wombs. Then again. Then again.

He had become a god—not one of light or wisdom.

A god of lust. Of chaos. Of ruin.

The temple was his harem now. And it was only the beginning.