Prologue

Haa… hng… ah! Ugh…

A cracked, metallic rasp wove through his groans as the naked man writhed, his face contorted in torment. Thick, crimson ropes seemed to bind his pale body, but a closer look revealed a horrifying truth: his restraints were alive, writhing and pulsing against his flesh.

The thick, blood-red masses slithered across the man’s body, radiating a sinister aura. They exerted a crushing pressure that rendered his sculpted, muscular physique immobile, while other tendrils wormed between his thighs to endlessly violate the pitiful human.

“You should know that resisting is futile. What a foolish struggle.”

The fiend, lacking vocal cords altogether, projected a dismal resonance. Leonhardt could comprehend its intent, yet the sensation bore no resemblance to hearing a physical voice.

“Hah, haah…”

Hours of desperate struggle had pushed the human to his breaking point. He clung to consciousness, sustained only by the desperate conviction that he must not break. As he shook his head to clear his fading senses, his sweat-drenched, pitch-black hair plastered itself wildly across his forehead. With his eyes squeezed shut and his brows furrowed, he appeared caught in profound agony—or perhaps, intoxicated by a perverse, erotic sensation. When his body finally arched and his head snapped back in a violent shudder, he resembled a damned sinner enduring some obscene punishment in the depths of hell.

“Ah…!”

A sudden, jarring impact against his waist jolted the Knight Commander, his eyes snapping wide open. His irises, blue as a cloudless sea, were veiled in tangled webs of despair and regret. Tears and sweat pooled in his eyes, the skin around his trembling eyelids rubbed raw.

The man being violated by the fiend was Leonhardt, Commander of the Royal Holy Knights. Having held his esteemed position for twenty-five years, he possessed a flawlessly honed physique. True to his station, his thighs and forearms were corded with dense muscle, and his heavy, sculpted pectorals were particularly striking. Because his waist was narrow compared to his broad chest, every time he arched or writhed, his tapered silhouette was thrown into sharp relief—a sight nothing short of magnificent.

If there was one peculiarity, it was that despite being a veteran knight, Leonhardt’s body was pristine, devoid of even the smallest scar. The only blemishes upon his alabaster skin were a few scattered moles across his broad back and chest, and the dark trail of pubic hair leading from the base of his sex up to his lower abdomen. His skin was remarkably pale. The constant twitching of his taut muscles evoked the image of a vital, restless white stallion. In stark contrast, his body hair was thick and pitch-black, lending his bare form an inherently subtle erotic allure.

His naturally ascetic face only heightened the perverse atmosphere. With his thick, dark eyebrows, piercing gaze, and set jaw, his time-weathered features appeared divorced from anything resembling lust. Moreover, his keen blue eyes—which seemed capable of seeing through any deception—burned with a righteous light. It seemed impossible that anyone could dare harbor wicked thoughts before such a gaze.

And yet, paradoxically, watching Leonhardt’s dignified face crumple in agony ignited a deep, sadistic urge. His strained expression as he endured the torment, coupled with his parted, gasping lips, evoked a profoundly twisted sense of gratification in the beholder. A thread of saliva stretched between his gasping mouth, trembling with his ragged breaths and threatening to snap at any second. Whenever he flinched, his body jerking at an alien sensation, the creases around his eyes and the deep furrow between his brows carved deeper valleys into his face. Every one of these minor details coalesced into a tableau that dragged humanity’s darkest desires to the surface. The sight of this robust, middle-aged man being utterly conquered by a monster was more than enough to stimulate the most twisted, depraved lust.

“Ngh…!”

The Knight Commander’s biceps and thighs convulsed violently, as if seared by a branding iron. Yet his expression was too ambiguous to be labeled as mere pain. Even as he writhed in sweat-drenched agony, a subtle, feverish flush had spread across his cheeks.

“Stop… please…”

Trapped and endlessly violated by the fiend, an involuntary plea tumbled from Leonhardt’s lips. But the monster had no intention of granting him mercy; instead, it wriggled with greater violence, emitting a low, rumbling hum.

“Will you surrender now? If you wish to nominate one of your knights to take your place, I certainly won’t stop you.”

“Agh…! Hng…!”

The blunt tip of the tentacle peeled open into four fleshy petals—a sight so grotesque it sent shivers down the spine. The split head of the appendage latched wetly onto Leonhardt’s chest, engulfing his hard, peaked nipples. The interior of the tentacle was lined with countless, tiny suckers that inflicted a horrifying sensation upon him. It felt as though hundreds of miniature tongues were obscenely licking at his sensitive flesh.

“Hnng…”

Leonhardt bit down hard on his lip, his resolve hardening; he would never become a commander who sacrificed his own men. Nevertheless, he could do nothing to stop the burning flush of humiliation from spreading to the very tips of his ears.

No. This has nothing to do with lust. It is merely a trial… a tribulation inflicted by an unholy beast to break my spirit.

The steadfast Knight Commander fought desperately to ignore the illicit tremors coursing through his veins. He refused—refused outright—to acknowledge the undercurrent of pleasure blooming beneath the monster’s violation. He needed to maintain his mental clarity now more than ever. Scraping his ragged breathing back under control, Leonhardt forced his eyes wide open and spat a venomous glare at the grotesque tentacles.

“Kugh… Keep your… shameless drivel… to yourself… Ngh! Shut your mouth…”

“So, you refuse to break so easily… Not bad. Then I suppose I must fulfill our contract exactly as you desire.”

The fiend did not speak again. Instead, it dedicated itself to its vile task, latching onto both of the Commander’s heavy pectorals and vulgarly suckling at his chest. The fleshy, petal-like maws of the tentacles engulfed his tender areolas, noisily slurping at his peaks with wet, obscene smacks. The swollen nubs of flesh were ruthlessly crushed by the internal pressure of the tentacle’s stem, only to spring back elastically in an agonizing, endless rhythm.

“Ugh…! Ah, haah, mph…”

Leonhardt trembled uncontrollably, thrashing his head from side to side. He fought with everything he had to swallow his moans, but the cloying, tickling resonance vibrating up his throat forced the wretched sounds out of him.

“Holy Knights are so noble. Who knew they harbored such a fondness for having their teats suckled?”

The fiend found endless amusement in watching this rugged, muscle-bound warrior shiver helplessly just from having his chest played with, prompting it to tease him further. The monster mercilessly ravaged Leonhardt’s body, greedily lapping up every drop of fluid he secreted. Sweat, saliva, tears, pre-cum—it savored all of it. The harder its captive struggled, the more the human’s leaking life force surged into the beast, invigorating its grotesque form.

“Ahhh, hng… haah… haa…”

Conversely, Leonhardt was rapidly fading. With every horrifying, slimy trail the beast left across his skin, he could feel his strength being leeched away. He tried to pull his arms free from the tentacles that pinned them, but he couldn’t even twitch a single finger. He may have been the Knight Commander, renowned for his indomitable physique, but right now, he was nothing more than a helpless toy, forced to surrender his body to the monster’s every whim. His sense of time had shattered; he had no idea how many agonizing hours he had endured this defilement.

What had started as a parasite no larger than a leech had gorged itself on his vitality, swelling in size until it tightly coiled around his entire body. Its initial, ravenous writhing—which had felt as though it were trying to devour him alive—had gradually morphed into something disgustingly erotic. The tentacles were now blatantly fondling him, rubbing and sucking at his chest and his crotch with deliberate, arousing intent.

Why? How could these base, vulgar sensations inflicted by a demonic beast carve so sharply, so deeply into every corner of his being? Chewing his lower lip to the point of bleeding, Leonhardt fiercely reminded himself that he could not—would not—succumb to this wicked pleasure.

“Kuhk…!”

But his desperate attempts at endurance were shattered in an instant. As if playing with his chest was no longer enough to satisfy it, a thick tentacle suddenly coiled tightly around his rigid manhood. The moment that cold, slick wetness enveloped his most sensitive flesh, Leonhardt’s toes curled violently as his entire body bowed upwards. Paralyzed by the shock, his muscles locked rigid, his thick, vein-corded thighs hardening into solid stone.

“Shh. Beg for me. After all, that is the only thing you know how to do, isn’t it?”

The beast purred the words with a low, rumbling vibration. Its deceptively soothing tone dripped with malicious mockery. The tentacles that had previously only flicked teasingly at his groin now discarded all hesitation. Not content with merely constricting the shaft of his cock, the appendage frayed into dozens of thread-like tendrils, tenaciously sweeping and rubbing across his sensitive glans and probing at the slit of his urethra.

“Ngh…!”

A short, sharp moan tore from Leonhardt’s throat. In his youth, he had maintained a strictly ascetic lifestyle to avoid distractions from his divine training, and in his older years, the fires of carnal desire had naturally cooled. The sensation of his bare glans being so aggressively fondled was far too overwhelming for a body that had rarely sought release. As the wet, squelching sounds of the violation filled his ears, the nerves in his groin flared with excruciating sensitivity, drawing a sudden, massive rush of blood straight to his crotch.

“Kugh, haah… How dare you commit… such blasphemy…! Cease this instant—ngh…! Ah!”

“Not a shred of conviction in those words. To think the grand Knight Commander pitches such a desperate tent in his trousers just from a gentle stroke… Tell me, do your loyal subordinates know you look like this?”

“No, ah, kuhk… ngh…!”

Leonhardt shook his head frantically in response to the monster’s vile taunts. The creature’s vulgar, explicit language burned him with shame, but even more intolerable was the filthy, debased sensation currently ravaging his lower half. This overwhelming stimulation—unlike anything he had experienced in his entire life—was so intense it crossed the threshold into genuine terror. The pleasure was so agonizingly sharp that he questioned whether a human body was even meant to endure such heights of sensation.

Of course, from the monster’s perspective, it was doing nothing more than absentmindedly groping the man. The fact that this grizzled, middle-aged warrior was reacting like an untouched virgin was hilarious. Driven by amusement at his violent reactions, the beast sneered, throwing in more taunts just to watch him squirm.

“I suppose it is a bit tragic. Getting milked dry by a demonic beast instead of a blushing maiden.”

A thin, membrane-like sheath of tentacle spread over his swollen manhood, swallowing the thick, solid length of human flesh whole. As the creature’s internal mucous lining undulated and contracted to ruthlessly milk his shaft, it spun an agonizingly thin, needle-like tendril and relentlessly shoved it straight into the slit of his urethra.

“Huuuk…!”

Unable to comprehend this alien invasion, Leonhardt squeezed his eyes shut and let out a pained, guttural groan, looking as though a wild beast had just clamped its jaws around him. His face burned a furious red. Every time the tiny tendril wriggled deeper inside his sensitive urethra, a choked, stifled gasp tore from his throat, his legs thrashing involuntarily against his restraints.

Encouraged by his torment, the monster slathered its cold, viscous body against the Knight Commander. Refusing to let its prey deny the overwhelming sensations flooding his groin, the fiend seized the helpless man’s muscular thighs, forcing them wide open into a humiliating, degrading posture. The obscenity of the scene magnified tenfold, rendering him in a posture that seemed to literally beg for penetration. The thick, engorged cock resting heavily against his dark pubic hair, along with the tightly puckered ring of his entrance, drew the eye with magnetic force. To look upon him now—his untouched, virgin cock standing at full attention as he seemingly braced himself to mate with a monster—no one would ever believe this man was the devout, austere Knight Commander of the realm.

“Who knows? If you get down and beg, your devotion might move them to grant you a miracle. Go on. Try praying to that magnificent god of yours.”

“Hah, haah… I told you to shut your filthy mouth… Do not insult Him, aaaaaugh…!”

For a fleeting second, sparks of furious defiance ignited in Leonhardt’s clouded, glassy eyes. Despite drowning in the agonizing waves of pleasure shooting up from his waist, the blasphemy of the monster’s words snapped the stern, unyielding Knight Commander back to his senses. But the beast felt no fear of a mere mortal. Even as Leonhardt ground his teeth so hard they audibly cracked, the monster did not withdraw a single one of its sinister, probing tentacles. Instead, it continued its sly, feigned questioning, pouring relentless scorn upon the devout man’s faith.

“I am merely stating facts. Surely, the great god you serve wouldn’t be the sort of coward who turns a blind eye to a devoted follower in crisis?”

With his untouched, virgin entrance exposed to the air, the renowned knight looked far less like an upright warrior and far more like a mouthwatering feast. The tightly puckered, pale pink flesh of his hole only fiercely inflamed the monster’s urge to conquer, while his thick cock—leaking steady drops of slick pre-cum—jerked and bobbed, turning a deep, engorged purplish-red beneath the constricting grip of the tentacles.

“…”

Leonhardt chose absolute silence, refusing to dignify the fiend’s blasphemous drivel with a response. He knew the creature was intentionally spewing this vile rhetoric to chip away at his willpower. To fall for such a blatant, demonic snare and lose his faith now would mean utter damnation.

Father, I beseech You… Grant me the courage and the strength to weather this unholy trial…

In truth, he had already been praying internally until the words themselves felt worn and frayed. It was no exaggeration to say that he had been desperately reciting scripture for the entire duration of this vile violation. By the grace of his divine aura protecting his body, the fiend’s defilement had been restricted to merely stroking and sliding obscenely across his skin; he had not yet suffered a single physical wound.

But this creature was far more malicious and tenacious than he had ever anticipated. Fully aware that it could not physically pierce a Holy Knight’s flesh to feast upon his blood and meat, it opted instead to latch onto him with cloying, wet suction, burying him under a ceaseless avalanche of filthy, corrupting sensations. This psychic and physical siege had lasted for hours. With every sickening writhe of its mass, Leonhardt could feel his holy defenses slowly, agonizingly receding, granting the beast further leeway. The monster, previously barred from true penetration, had now managed to force that tiny, needle-like tendril directly into his urethra, wriggling obscenely just beneath his skin.

“Kugh…! Ah, ugh…”

It felt as though the entire length of his shaft was throbbing with a scorching heat. Simultaneously, a heavy, swollen ache tolled deep within his lower abdomen, like a warning bell burning him from the inside out. The visceral sensation of a slimy tentacle writhing inside his cock was so fundamentally repulsive that it defied all human description.

God… please, I beg of You…

A suffocating dread began to pool around Leonhardt, rising slowly from his feet like freezing water. No matter how desperately he repeated the scriptures—commanding his soul to fear no evil—the heavens remained silent. No miracle descended. He was utterly alone, forced to lie there and watch as the demonic beast slowly, methodically colonized more of his body.

“So stubbornly rigid… But soon enough, you’ll be sobbing and begging me to let you spray your seed. And you’ll do it so vulgarly, throwing your hips back and forth like a pig in heat.”

The harder Leonhardt bit his bleeding lip to suppress his moans, the more vicious the fiend’s insults became. Had the monster been free to indulge its true sadistic nature, it would have already ruthlessly pounded his virgin entrance until it was torn, bloody, and ruined. Regrettably, the man was still shielded by a powerful divine aura, meaning the beast had to dismantle his defenses slowly and carefully. The proof was undeniable: the moment a tendril even attempted to pry open his tightly puckered rear entrance, a searing, holy fire would violently lash back up the tentacle’s length. Though the monster hid its pain well, the thin strand it had forcibly threaded into the human’s urethra was already being continuously cooked alive by the man’s latent holy energy.

Still, hours of leeching the human’s stamina and life force had paid off; the divine barrier was weakening, permitting increasingly bolder violations. While burying its tentacles into the man’s holy flesh still burned, the agony had finally dropped to a tolerable level.

“Therefore, if you are going to beg… do not pray to your absent god. Beg me.”

With that dark decree, the beast manipulated its thick limbs, hooking onto either side of Leonhardt’s cleft and pulling his pristine entrance wide open. The stark contrast between his pale, muscular buttocks and the deep, rosy pink of his exposed inner flesh instantly magnified the scene’s overwhelming obscenity. Unused to the cold air brushing against such a private, hidden place, the tiny ring of muscle flinched and spasmed, involuntarily pulsing open and shut. It painted a wildly degrading picture, making the holy knight look as though he were desperately clenching in anticipation of a brutal fucking.

The mere concept of this pure, immaculate Holy Knight being so helplessly and thoroughly broken by a vile, lowly monster was intoxicating beyond measure. Unable to contain its surging lust, the fiend—Kelles—drove its tentacles forward with greedy haste.

“Kuhk…”

The moment Kelles shoved a single, slender stem past the knight’s tight ring, a searing, holy fire engulfed its flesh, just as expected. But the beast refused to yield. Pushing through the burning agony, it drove the tentacle deeper, its slick surface caressing and mapping every inch of Leonhardt’s virgin inner walls. The pain only amplified the twisted pleasure. The certainty that this beautiful, unsullied body was slowly breaking, destined to fall entirely under its dominion, sent a euphoric surge of sadistic power through the monster. The mere thought of that noble, austere face weeping in the throes of total, degrading lust made Kelles’s core boil with dark ecstasy.

These filthy, obscene fantasies weren’t born from some complex philosophical grudge or a grand desire for revenge against humanity. It was born of something far simpler, and far darker: the raw, primal violence of wanting to desecrate and ruin a pure, untouchable existence that no one else had ever dared lay hands upon.

“Urp…!”

Leonhardt gagged, his body violently shuddering as the thick, slimy tentacle brutally swept against his internal organs. Yet, even as he choked on the bile rising in his throat, he desperately clung to his resolute faith, refusing to curse the god who had met his fervent prayers with nothing but deafening silence.

Father, please… I beg of You, deliver me from this hell… grant me salvation…

While he prayed, the massive, slick appendage, dripping with viscous fluids, continued to brutally forge its way deeper inside him, pulsing with an endless, rhythmic pressure. The physical agony of his tight, virgin passage being mercilessly torn open was excruciating, but the true terror lay in not knowing how deep the beast intended to bury itself. He already felt completely, suffocatingly full, as if the thing had coiled throughout his entire abdomen, yet the monster kept relentlessly forcing more of its bulk inside, triggering a blind, primal panic within his mind.

“Hah… Your pathetic charade of noble dignity ends here, Knight Commander.”

The thick invader buried deep within his bowels suddenly ceased its movements. A moment later, the beast yanked the massive tentacle outward. As the thick, slop-covered flesh dragged against his tight, trembling entrance, a wet, obscene squelch echoed through the chamber.

SMASH!

“Ahhhk…!”

Without giving him a fraction of a second to recover, the massive tentacle slammed back into his core with brutal force. Enduring the excruciating sensation of its demonic flesh literally melting against the holy knight’s aura, Kelles mercilessly hammered its gargantuan appendage deep into the unyielding, narrow walls of meat.

“Augh…! Ugh, uh!”

Thwack.

The sickeningly heavy sound echoed, resembling the brutal crack of a blunt weapon whipping against wet flesh. As the invader relentlessly pounded his insides, Leonhardt convulsed as if struck by lightning, his head thrashing violently from side to side. And yet, biting through his lip until hot blood spilled down his chin, he fought a losing battle to strangle his own screams.

“Hup…! Ugh, mmph…!”

And so, the merciless piston-rhythm of the beast’s thrusts continued unabated. The thick, supernatural lubricants oozing from the monster’s flesh slowly broke down Leonhardt’s unyielding resistance, turning his painfully tight passage into a slick, pliable mess. Feeding hungrily off the rich life force seeping from the knight’s wet mucosal walls, the invading tentacle began to swell and mutate. What had initially been barely half the thickness of a standard sword hilt greedily engorged itself, expanding and hardening until it rivaled the staggering girth of a monstrously large human cock.

Squelch, thwack!

The dark, blood-red meat piston viciously scoured against his inner walls. The beast moved with a terrifying frenzy, unbothered by the fact that the outer layer of its flesh was being continuously scorched by the knight’s holy aura. Driven by an obsessive hunger to discover exactly where the stoic commander’s prostate lay, Kelles brutally churned his insides, violently impaling every possible angle of his sensitive core.

“Ah…! Aah…!”

When the violently churning tentacle finally slammed directly into the cluster of nerves surrounding his prostate, the overwhelming, blinding surge of pleasure was too much to bear. Leonhardt’s spine snapped into a severe arch, his thick thighs trembling uncontrollably. A searing white light exploded behind his eyes, and the desperate, agonizing need to ejaculate violently seized his lower abdomen. But the release he craved was cruelly denied. The fleshy sheath that had swallowed his rigid cock still held the thin, wick-like tendril firmly lodged deep inside his urethra, plugging his exit with finality.

To make matters infinitely worse, the tiny parasite buried inside his urethra also began to gorge and expand. Ravenously drinking the desperate streams of pre-cum and backed-up semen leaking from inside Leonhardt’s shaft, the tendril undulated rapidly, actively filtering out the burning, cursed holy energy to steal only the pure, potent life force contained within the knight’s seed.

“Ah…! Ah, no—stop…! Father, hnnng…!”

His first climax struck with a speed that felt humiliatingly fast. The massive tentacle violently plunging in and out of his rear entrance ruthlessly battered his prostate through the agonizingly thin barrier of his internal walls. Simultaneously, the vicious tendril threaded deep inside his cock burrowed straight down his shaft, prodding and agitating his seminal vesicles from the front. Assaulted by a synchronized bombardment of overwhelming pleasure from both front and back, his ironclad endurance shattered like fragile glass.

This was a forced, demonic climax—its quality and intensity alien to the simple, fleeting release of a man briefly stroking himself to completion. The electrifying, mind-melting jolt that erupted at the base of his spine did not signal the end of his torment, but merely the beginning. The phantom aftershocks of the pleasure drove themselves into his lower abdomen like jagged shards of shattered glass, leaving a burning, numb throb radiating through his core with every shuddering breath.

“Ahhh, h-, ugh… Father, Father… Please, forgive… m-me… Ahhh…!”

Having steadfastly refused to react to the monster’s earlier mocking demands that he pray, Leonhardt now found himself frantically calling out to his god, his hands trembling in involuntary spasms. With his thick wrists pinned securely above him, he couldn’t clasp his hands in prayer; the best he could manage was curling his fingers into the air, desperately miming the motion of clutching his holy pendant.

Meeting the monster’s blasphemy with stoic silence had only been possible when the pain and the perverse pleasure were still manageable. But now, before the agonizing aftershocks of his ruined climax could even begin to fade, the next tidal wave of blinding pleasure surged forward, drowning his consciousness. It felt as though he had been shoved off a cliff, plummeting wildly into a pitch-black, bottomless abyss. While violent shivers wracked his paralyzed body, it felt as though lightning bolts were being driven directly into his naked nerve endings. Terrified by the loss of control over his own body, Leonhardt fell back on his lifelong instincts, clinging desperately to his prayers. As the beast ruthlessly, methodically pounded his ruined entrance into a slick, wet mess of squelching noises, the commander fought a frantic, losing war to recite scripture, praying to whatever remained of his fracturing sanity.

“Uhg…! Mph, aah…! Kuhk…! Please, deliver us… from e-evil… AAAAAH…!”

But to the fiend, his despairing, weeping voice was nothing more than the sweet, musical chirping of a caged bird. No matter how desperately, how fervently the man cried out, the heavens remained stubbornly deaf to his pleas. His life force was being rapidly siphoned away; the only miracle was that the divine aura shielding his mortal flesh from the corrosive rot of demonic energy had not yet been extinguished.

“So sweet. Your thick, holy seed has quite the scalding bite to it, Knight Commander.”

The deep, vibrating purr that echoed in Leonhardt’s mind sounded disturbingly like a dark, chuckling laugh. The tentacles, which had rapidly mutated and evolved into more complex, horrifying appendages, now mercilessly assaulted his chest, his rigid cock, and his ravaged hole simultaneously, forcefully unlocking pathways of cruel, agonizing ecstasy within him. Furthermore, the monster’s telepathic voice, which had previously sounded like a chaotic, guttural howl, had sharpened into crystal-clear pronunciation. More terrifyingly, the thick bundles of flesh binding the Commander’s powerful thighs were mutating, rearranging their mass to mimic the structured shape of articulated bones and joints.

To Kelles, Leonhardt’s vital fluids tasted like liquid hellfire. The dense, concentrated holy energy swirling within his life force was so potent that trying to swallow it all at once was no different from downing a deadly poison. Because of this, Kelles exercised immense patience. Having been sealed away in absolute darkness for over a thousand years, spending a few meager hours tenderizing and cooking this magnificent human feast to perfection was nothing but a joyful game.

And now, the deep, invasive penetration it had finally achieved after hours of tedious, meticulous torment tasted sweeter than ambrosia. With every brutal, hip-snapping thrust, Kelles could feel the stolen vitality rejuvenating its ancient form. The horrific, bony structures forming at the ends of its limbs soon fused into the distinct shape of massive, clawed hands. Finally, the tangled, chaotic mass of tentacles completed its terrifying metamorphosis, solidifying into the imposing, monstrous silhouette of a giant beast.

“Tell me… did your desperate little prayers work? Surely, as a paragon of virtue, you know far better than anyone what awaits a man who has so intimately fornicated with an unholy demon.”

The newly formed, gargantuan head of the beast leaned down, hovering just inches from the Commander’s cheek. Its skull, not yet fully realized, resembled a terrifying, flayed wolf constructed entirely of raw, exposed muscle. As the grotesque horror unhinged its massive jaws, a revolting tongue—composed entirely of tightly woven, slick tentacles—slithered out from the dark cavern of its mouth.

Dripping with stolen fluids, the tentacle-tongue slowly, obscenely dragged itself up the side of Leonhardt’s face. The salt of his sweat was delicious, but the bitter taste of his defeated tears was pure ambrosia. The pitiful sight of his quivering, bruised lips—desperately struggling to form words with a shattered voice—was a tragic masterpiece. Staring up into the face of the fully manifested horror, Leonhardt’s eyelids fluttered weakly, his unbreakable will fundamentally fracturing. Watching the last, defiant embers of hope die out in the knight’s beautiful blue eyes, the beast tightened its crushing grip on his thighs and delivered its verdict.

“Even if you do not know the depths of your damnation, you will learn them soon enough. You are mine now.”

THWACK!

A brutal, horrific sound of wet flesh colliding tore through the air. As the impossibly massive, demonic cock plunged violently back into his core—feeling as though it were physically splitting his pelvis in two—Leonhardt’s spine bowed into a terrifying arch, a raw, silent scream ripping past his vocal cords.

“…”

It wasn’t that he was choosing to remain silent to spite the beast. The horrific reality was that the monstrous cock had brutally bulldozed past his internal barriers, forcing its massive girth so deep into the bend of his colon that it crushed the breath from his lungs. Paralyzed by the devastating shock, his jaw hung slack, thick strings of saliva drooling freely onto his chest as stuttering keuk, keuk sounds forced their way out of his throat.

“Ah…! Aah, ugh…! Uhuk…! Ugh…!”

His prayers had been shattered and forgotten long ago. Dissociated from the reality that tears were streaming unchecked down his face, Leonhardt flopped limply against his restraints, his large, muscular frame ragdolling with every brutal, pile-driving thrust of the beast.

“Hng, aaah…!”

A perverse, agonizing wave of despair crashed against his spine once more. Swallowed by total helplessness, the Knight Commander instinctively clawed at the last, dying embers of his faith, desperately sending up prayers he already knew would never reach his god.

Please… grant me salvation…

SMASH!

As the colossal mass of demonic meat slammed into his deepest recesses, white stars exploded behind Leonhardt’s eyes. As if intentionally seeking to shatter his mental prayers, the beast pounded into his core without granting him a single second to breathe. The monster was shifting the texture and shape of its horrific cock mid-thrust, carving into the knight’s delicate insides with an explosive, manic ferocity specifically designed to permanently ruin the human body.

Squelch, squelch, THWACK, SMASH!

“Uh, hng…! Ngh…!”

Leonhardt held his breath, terrified that if he exhaled, a pathetic, broken sob would escape him. It felt as though his internal organs were being viciously hacked to pieces by a machete made of pure, liquid pleasure. His body convulsed independent of his will, his abdominal muscles locking and his inner thighs spasming as the torturous need to ejaculate crashed over him for the dozenth time. The ceaseless, frictionless grinding against his swollen internal membranes turned his abdomen into a blazing furnace, thick, white fog rapidly cannibalizing his mind. When the massive, blunt head of the monster’s cock repeatedly slammed into his prostate, he writhed and thrashed against his bonds, his mouth wide open and gasping for air like a drowning man dragged beneath the waves.

He wanted to cum. He was horrifically aware that his noble soul was being consumed by the most debased, primal of physical desires.

No, I can’t. I cannot feel pleasure from such an unforgivable sin…

“Haah, heuk, uh! Uh…”

How did it come to this?

And then, the singular thought he had forbidden himself from entertaining finally reared its ugly head. Standing at the bitter end of a million unanswered prayers, a truly blasphemous realization bloomed within his broken mind. His lifelong conviction—that all suffering was the will of God, and that every hardship must be accepted with humble grace—was slowly, methodically turning to ash. For the briefest, most agonizing fraction of a second, Leonhardt resented the suffocating weight of the responsibilities chained to his shoulders, fundamentally doubting his own worthiness to bear them.

If someone were to ask him right now if he truly did not regret leading this cursed, barren expedition into the abyss, he knew, with terrifying certainty, that he would have no answer.

Sensing his psychological collapse, Kelles meticulously prepared to permanently dye the human soul in evil. Having siphoned enough of the knight’s holy vitality, the beast finalized the mutation of its complex, terrifying reproductive organs, focusing its dark will to condense a massive, pressurized load of demonic energy for injection.

And then, the dam broke. A scalding, impossibly thick torrent of demonic seed violently erupted from the monster’s core, aggressively flooding deep into Leonhardt’s bowels. It was the horrific moment the Holy Knight’s pristine vessel was irreversibly defiled.

“Huurk…!”

He had been aware that he was being raped by a demonic beast, but the scalding reality of the creature violently ejaculating deep inside his body amplified his revulsion to catastrophic levels. Staring up at the monster with bloodshot, weeping eyes, Leonhardt’s body suddenly bucked violently as dry, ragged heaves tore through his chest.

Even as the man gagged, Kelles didn’t stop ruthlessly pumping its hips. In truth, it was debatable if the horrific appendage inside him could even be classified as a cock anymore. Formed from dozens of bloated, writhing tentacles tightly fused together, it more closely resembled a gargantuan, pulsating club of raw meat than any recognizable genitalia. The beast drove that monstrous club flush against his deepest walls, burying it to the hilt before giving its hips a gentle, rolling shake, deliberately ensuring the knight’s internal membranes properly absorbed every last drop of the demonic seed. Whether the broken human choked on his own misery as he took the giant cock and endured the shallow, degrading after-pumps was of no concern to the monster.

“Auuugh…!”

Leonhardt gasped for air, his limbs trembling uncontrollably against his bindings. He had desperately prayed that this tedious, vomit-inducing nightmare would finally end now that the beast had emptied itself inside him, but the monster was acting as though it were the very incarnation of endless, insatiable lust. He was appalled. The reality of his defilement was so staggeringly miserable that he wanted nothing more than to dismiss it all as an impossible, hallucinatory nightmare and wake up in his own bed.

But the agonizing, stretching sensation of the massive slab of meat wedged between his spread thighs refused to fade. He did not jolt awake in a sweat-soaked bed; he remained chained in this dark, oppressive cavern, forced to endure an endless eternity of filthy, bestial copulation. With tears tracking steadily down his face, Leonhardt seized the momentary, stagnant pause in the monster’s thrusting to desperately catch his breath and force his mind to work.

Endure it. I absolutely cannot break here.

He had struck a dark bargain, trading his own body to this demonic entity for a specific price. Now, he had no choice but to grit his teeth and survive it, no matter the cost. If his mind shattered here—if he went insane or simply died from the shock—there was no telling what horrific fate would befall his remaining knights. For the sake of those innocent, precious young souls, he had to survive. His mind was already strained to the breaking point just trying to calculate a desperate strategy to defeat this evil horror and proudly lead his men back to the kingdom.

So hold yourself together…

“Augh…! Ah, ah…! Hnnng…!”

His large, battered frame looked pitiful as it bounced helplessly with the beast’s renewed thrusts. The entrance that had barely managed to swallow the gargantuan meat was now heavily swollen and inflamed to a bright, raw crimson, intermittently sputtering and leaking small trails of bubbling, clear, demonic slime. Deliberately ensuring that Leonhardt could not spare a single ounce of mental energy for anything else, the monster sadistically targeted his most sensitive internal spots, pounding them with a vicious, obsessive precision.

Unwanted orgasms crashed over him with relentless frequency. Lost in a haze of mindless ecstasy, Leonhardt lay completely limp, gasping for air. As the agony of being forced to climax without the release of ejaculation stretched on endlessly, a creeping, insidious desire to simply surrender and find peace began to take root in his mind.

No, what am I thinking?

He absolutely could not yield to such vulgar torture—not even here, trapped in this forgotten cavern and subjected to endless, unpredictable violence with no rescue in sight. He had to maintain his mental fortitude.

To Him, who surely watches over this trial… I pray…

Ugh, hng…! Ngh, ah…!

Before he could even finish the prayer in his mind, a sharp, piercing moan tore from his lips, and with tears streaming down his face, Leonhardt silently begged for the monster to cease its violation.

Perhaps this place truly was hell, but the deeper the despair, the stronger his faith needed to be. He had to hold fast to his devotion, never doubting that he would be delivered from this tribulation.

Huuu…! Ugh, mmph…! Kugh…!

His iron resolve began to falter, melting into a shapeless, wretched thing hopelessly tangled with the base pleasure flooding his brain. Exhausted, the Knight Commander closed his eyes, desperately fixing his thoughts on the one he had called out to until his voice was raw.

Father… Father…

Please, forgive Your servant.