Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions

[A/N: Due to the recent ban on our book, I shall be limiting the smut—sorry! There'll still be a lot of spicy stuff but you just know this chapter wouldn't be a dive into full heat sex like I initially penned down. To complement, I shall reward with some nice action scenes. Enjoy.]

[🎶 Heatwaves – Glass Animals.]

THAT MORNING WAS LONG. With the crazy hunger he saw in the eyes of his harem when his feet first touched the Castle's tallest turret, Rafel never expected anything but. He didn't come up—for air or anything else—till it was high noon.

He called it his morning misbehaving. Or was it Peitho?

He knew that his animated [Subservience] was no doubt listening throughout the entire torrid affair. The bed had become a jungle of sheets. Oh sorry, not bed... couch. Vinta Plusia had no beds. But the sofas shamed the bounciest mattresses. And the girls really did make use of it. Israfel, tanned by the exotic weather of Rocasus couldn't have possibly dreamed this morning; even his inner perv had a hard time in keeping up with the frenzy of his hot chicks: the way Corazón kissed him like he was the last tank of Oxygen in the world. And the way Ravenna hopped on his back, loosening his hair and undressing him, moaning into him as her fingers played in his scarlet Mohawk, her breasts softly kneading his ripped back.

"Stay."

One word.

It was all his beautiful slave girl had said as she pushed him—his mouth pink from Cora's Frenching—to the sprawling ivory sofa. The only thing Rafel did was crook his hands behind his head and pin them above him with those golden eyes. It was the only thing they permitted him.

In Cora's hot river gaze, he dared not interfere with her need. The girls had slathered his face, abs and cock with their kisses. Rafel was literally glimmering with their passion now—six AMAZING hours later. His sensuous Naamah worshipped at his calves. Ravenna spooned him. As for Cora, she was on her side as his left, naughtily eyeing the slick shaft that had satisfied them all—that was jerking softly on his upper torso.

The fucking tomboy was insatiable!

"DAMN!" Rafel inhaled deeply.

They were all naked. And oiled up in perspiration—and cum.

"—thank fuck you're a demon, right," Cora doted on him, "or we'd have drowned you in pussy."

Laughter bubbled amongst them. Cora wasn't done. "That's what you get for abandoning us for a WHOLE month."

Rafel smirked at her. In his Yellowstone eyes she knew he was sorry, but he just had to tease her. "It was twenty four days! And I thought my dick has apologized enough. Are you girls in heat or something?"

Ravenna blushed and hid her face in his neck, breathing his warm musk. And at the same time Cora brazenly poked his half-erect little brother: "aww! Your poor dick!"

Rafel chuckled. "My Corazón, you're lucky I like you."

"Like?" Cora gave a cheeky smile. "You fucking love us."

Rafel said nothing but it was probably true. Somewhere in the three tumultuous years he had spent with these heavenly creatures, he had fallen in love. He knew because even Lilith couldn't poke his dick and not swiftly meet her head on a pike in the furnace of the 2nd Hel Circle. And she was the goddamn Queen of the Night.

"So, how was the West?" Ravenna spoke up softly. Her sweet svelte body still curled into Rafel. "I hear Roa has some fine artisans. And the Legata is some type of alien, yes?"

Rafel moved to rise.

"Oh no you don't." Ravenna hooked him down with her leg.

His gold eyes warmed on her green ones. "I thought..."

"Oh we can talk business in bed, Ambassador." She said sweetly. "You just got back and you sure as shit ain't bootin' off. Plus," she fluttered her lashes, "you wouldn't want to piss off your Empress now, would ya? I heard her father was the mad demon tyrant. Don't mistake the genes, huh?"

"I wouldn't dream of it." Rafel petted her leg—smooth, porcelain, like moonlight poured into flesh.

He thought awhile before allowing himself the best answer to give to his Empyrean of a girlfriend. Ravenna was the fairest of the cliq; always she had been. Her skin was such a milky white tone if her mother wasn't a [Gold Saint] he'd have gone with a Nephilim: the frosty giantfolk. She was sculpted out of morning clouds. Her dark hair could paint his pillows in its midnight swamp. If Seoul was a woman, she'd be his little Raven.

His Corazón was a rougher breed—minted complexion, punk hairdo, eyes like you thought you'd seen on a polar bear.

Naamah could be any unearthly color she damn well pleased. She preferred the darker skin tones of Numidian and Semitic peoples though. His slave was ancient. Probably took her first breath miles under the red desert of Akkadians and Chaldeans. Butter-lush, his sukky.

Knowing his women well he started with the mute parts of his travels. Rafel traced both Ravenna and Cora's thighs. "Well, the Republic is great—wealthy, populated, popular among skyling and Critch clans. It's governable capital Roa is probably the finest egalitarian society around. Their approach on art and culture is impeccable. I do think it's because of the inclusiveness of all races, magical and un-magical. I did see Mechas and Orcs as much as humans. Their Legata is quite the believer—gods, zodiacs, numerology. And the only thing she's guilty of is having too many temples to her Orishas. If Hel had that much gypsy-spirit, Ayahuasca-drinking, god-worshipping kids, we'd be the ones up there."

He pointed up, crooking his finger in the general direction of Paradise.

"—you have no enemies in Rocasia, my Redeemer. Tell you what, so they've got this saying in Roa: in the Independent Republic two things run free, our River and our worship."

"You are losing your vice, hot stuff." Cora looked Rafel down from the crook of her arm. The bed dipped as she pushed off—Olympian naked, to find a bottle of Royal Red.

"My vice?"

"Yes, divine Lord." She turned around by a flowing purple curtain—serpent smile. She popped one expensive vintage and drank straight from the bottle. Rafel's feline eyes locked on the spills of crimson mead running down her neck to her perky mounds; on any other girl it'd be irritating. On Cora, it made him wanna know the taste of the wine from her nipples—the dark valley further south too. He studied her sensuous body; he was aware of Aya and Ravenna sharing knowing grins under his eye.

What was it about these beautiful creatures?

Did they share a hive mind?

Sometimes it seemed they all had collective consciousness. Other times they couldn't be more different.

"Corazón." He drawled—a warning.

She chuckled, sauntering over with the bottle. "You can't lie to us, can you?"

"Pardon?"

"Oh come on now. Devils can fuck...but they lie better. You, my Lord are a [Fifth Hel Ring] Principality, but you can't lie. Not to us." Cora passed the bottle to Ravenna's outstretched hand. "See how you evade talking about the Legata—even though she's the most interesting thing about the Republic. Come on, I mean three breasts? And a black mamba for hair? DAMN!"

Cora placed her hands over fine womanly hips. "COME ON?!"

Ravenna passed the wine bottle next to Aya. She swallowed, smirking, "you avoid her because you don't want to lie to us."

Cora rolled her hands. "See... vice?"

Am I losing my ability to commit the sin of deception? Which at [EPIC] can ruin nations?

"You know what: you girls are right." He admitted. "—gimme that!" He took the bottle off Aya's fingers. Ravenna snorted. "Guilty much."

Growling, Rafel took a big swig. "I CAN LIE!" He defended. "Maybe not to you little nosy bunch, but I can! I AM NOT LOSING MY VICE."

"I'm not sure that's a bad thing." Ravenna couldn't hold back her laughter.

"Fine! But I didn't fuck her."

Cora held up her hands, grinning handsomely. "Didn't ask."

"—just saying." The bottle went to his lips again. His pretty face went devious and his lopsided grin reappeared. "But whoo! You should've see her. Her titties are the shit!"

Ravenna and Aya laughed so hard it was soon tears—not sounds.

"Three boobs?" Cora's blue eyes glimmered. On her feet, she drank again from the bottle and laughed in small jerks.

"Fuck yeaaah!" Rafel responded. "Goddamn! Her tops were their own invention."

Ravenna was shaking now. "Quit it please." She breathed. This was their union—chaotic, impossible, beautiful; that they could gossip about other women and laugh about it like Rhobish farmboys.

Rafel picked Ravenna from his right into his arms. Her stunning skin blew his mind. He was about to joke more when—

[DING!]

This notification sound was perhaps the loudest bang of the decade. It rattled the gray matter of his fucking skull.

"Damn! Peitho! What the fuck!"

He didn't even know he'd said that aloud until his eyes fastened on Ravenna watching him with worry. Aya had drawn closer. Cora too kneed the sofa. Apparently his forehead was furrowed like fucking waves. "Are you alright? Dominus?" Aya touched the sides of his head—empathy rolling off of her, the aura adamant to heal his sudden migraine. Rafel shook off the pain. But he was silent about his affliction.

'Just my gods-darn system being jealous, I guess.'

His guess was wrong.

[DINGGG!!!]

The sharp jangle came again.

Blood spurted out his ears this time. A drop cresting scarlet down his Roman nose.

"Dominus!" Aya wailed.

"Do something." Cora seethed.

"You fuckin' do something!" Ravenna screeched back. "Aren't you the [S Rank]?"

"Are you THE REDEEMER?"

Rafel's pain plunged the girls into chaos; he was a man who rarely succumbed to pain. But this, this really was hurting him. It painfully reminded Ravenna of her father—who'd just about beat her boyfriend to death. So she was the most antsy.

"SHUT IT, YOU TWO!" Aya Naamah tried to concentrate and go in using her [pysche bridge]. She straddled Rafel who was stiff and unblinking.

"Dominus...stay with me please."

They were all still in the nude.

[DINGGG!!!]

Rafel heard the ring the third time, so brutal he felt it in his scrotum. 'Fuck, Peitho. What the Hell did I do to you? You're killing me here.' He tried to communicate his system. 'Peitho? PEITHO?'

There was no answer.

It seemed his system had gone fucking 'angry-ex' on his arse.

AWOL!

The ringing sound in his brain lessened somewhat. But just enough for Rafel to see the glinting red screen and hear a voice that was dangerously robotic. Totally not Peitho.

[SYSTEM UPDATE ACHIEVED!]

[SYSTEM UPDATE COMPLETE!]

[HOST EMBEDDED...]

[ASCENDANCE REACHED!!!]

[Does Host grant Subservience alternation into Reality?]

[Y/N?]

'What? WHAT THE FUCK?!'

While Rafel was still reeling from the mind-scrambling pain, struggling to understand the hell was going on, the red screen pinged a new panel.

[Automatic Response Confirmed!]

[Host grants Alternation]

[ASCENDANCE SUCCESS!]

[+1 250 000 souls]

[New Locked Poison: THE UNDYING SOUL.]

[Alternation to Reality processing. . .]

[In 20 seconds]

[In 10 seconds...]

[5... 4... 3... 2...1]

[Alternation Complete!]

[DING!]

This time the dinging wasn't in his head, Rafel noticed.

In the gilded cocoon of Vinta Plusia, a vibrating light door appeared in front of the chamber's own cedar door. It was of the same noble, slightly occultic red tint as the notification panel.

The banged-up Apollyon and his band of naked chicas watched as the most trendy, politically accurately-dressed woman walked out the buzzing door.

Her hair was pure orange.

'OH YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!' Rafel blanched.

Cora rose with no smile whatsoever. "You the bitch troubling my man?"

She didn't wait for a reply.

CRACCKKK!!!

That empty wine bottle descended—butt-first, on the women's splashy orange head.

"—TAKE THAT, UPPITY BITCH!"