Disclaimer: I do not have any rights of ownership for the characters used except the OC's. All the credit goes to the authors. Only the plot belongs to me.
Chapter 5
The morning sun that filtered through the curtains of the ORC was deceptive. It promised a typical day, painting dust motes in lazy drifts of gold, but the atmosphere inside the house was anything but ordinary. It was a silence held together by tension and the scent of antiseptic and tea.
In the centre of the club room sat Asia Argento. She looked small, swallowed by the plush armchair, her hands gripping a warm mug as if it were an anchor in a storm. Her habit was tattered, replaced now by clean clothes borrowed from Rias—a simple oversized shirt that made her look even more fragile.
Rias Gremory stood before her, not as a high school idol, but as a King. The crimson of her hair seemed to absorb the sunlight, turning it into a deep, blood-red halo. Behind her stood her peerage: Kiba, stoic and alert; Koneko, watching with unblinking eyes; Issei, fidgeting with a mixture of guilt and awe; and Akeno, whose usual smile was tempered by a rare solemnity. And in the corner, leaning against the wall with arms crossed over a chest the size of a barrel, was Taurus. He was a statue of muscle and silence, his presence a heavy gravitational pull that everyone felt but no one acknowledged aloud.
Rias held out a small, glowing object. The Bishop piece.
"Asia Argento," Rias began, her voice smooth, regal, yet laced with a maternal warmth. "You have been cast out by the light you served. You have been hunted by the ones who claimed to be your saviors. The world has been a cruel place for you."
Asia flinched, her eyes downcast. "I... I only wanted to heal. I only wanted to help."
"You are not a burden," Rias corrected firmly, stepping closer. She knelt, bringing herself to Asia's eye level. "You are a survivor. But I can offer you more than just survival. I can offer you a purpose. A family." She held out the Bishop piece. "Become my devil. Join my peerage. I will not ask you to renounce your God, only to live for yourself. Under my banner, no Fallen or scumbag will ever touch you again."
Asia looked up, her green eyes wide and shimmering with unshed tears. She looked at the crimson chess piece, then at Rias, and finally, her gaze drifted to the others. She saw Issei's desperate, encouraging nod. She saw the silent protection in Taurus's dark stare.
"If I become a devil..." Asia's voice trembled, barely a whisper. "Will I... can I go to school? Can I have... friends?"
The question hung in the air, heartbreaking in its simplicity. She didn't ask for power. She didn't ask for revenge against the Fallen who abused her. She asked for the mundane, for the simple joys that had been stolen from her since birth.
Issei choked back a sob, rubbing his eyes furiously. Koneko paused mid-bite of her cookie. Kiba looked away, his jaw tightening. Akeno, her never fading smile was gone now. Even Taurus, who leaned silently against the doorframe like a dark monolith, shifted his weight, his heavy gaze narrowing on the girl.
Rias felt her heart squeeze. She reached out, cupping Asia's cheek. "Yes, Asia. You will go to school. You will eat ice cream in the park. You will have friends who would die before letting you be hurt again."
Tears spilled from Asia's eyes, hot and fast. "Yes," she whispered, grasping Rias' hand. "Please. Take me."
As the ritual began, the crimson light of the Gremory crest flooding the room, a silent vow rippled through the peerage. It wasn't spoken, but it was forged in iron.
'She is ours now.'
And with that vow came fury.
Rias stood up as the light faded, Asia now sleeping peacefully on the club's sofa, her body adjusting to the reincarnation. The warmth vanished from the room, replaced by a cold, oppressive killing intent that dropped the temperature by ten degrees. Rias turned to the window, looking toward the outskirts of town, toward the abandoned church.
"They hurt her," Rias whispered. It wasn't a lament. It was a death sentence. "They hunted in my territory. They touched what is mine."
"Akeno, Issei, Kiba, Koneko," she said, her voice dropping an octave, stripping away all warmth. "Prepare for combat."
She turned to Taurus. The giant man pushed himself off the wall, his dark eyes locking with hers. There was no need for complex orders.
"Taurus," she said, her voice dropping to a command that resonated with ancient power. "Tonight, we do not negotiate. We are a pest control service."
Taurus cracked his neck, the sound like a gunshot in the quiet room. A cruel, predatory grin split his face—the first emotion he had shown all morning.
"Understood, King," he rumbled. "Nothing leaves that hill alive unless you will it."
***
The night was not peaceful. The sky churned with heavy, bruised clouds, mirroring the storm that was descending upon the decrepit church atop the hill. The Gremory peerage did not sneak in. They did not infiltrate. They arrived like a sledgehammer.
The front doors of the church exploded inward, shrapnel of rot-eaten wood turning into deadly projectiles. Kiba moved like a gust of razor wind, his Sword Birth summoning a forest of blades that skewered the lower-level exorcists before they could even scream. Koneko was a wrecking ball, her small form blurring as she punched through stone pillars and ribcages alike.
Issei stayed back, guarding the perimeter, his Boosted Gear active, watching in awe and terror as his "seniors" worked. This wasn't a battle. It was an extermination.
But the true centre of the storm was the sanctuary.
Dohnaseek, the fedora-wearing Fallen Angel, stood with his light spear raised, rallying the terrified priests. "Hold your ground! They are but filth! We have the grace of—"
The roof above them groaned, metal shrieking, before caving in.
Taurus dropped from the darkness of the rafters. He didn't land; he impacted. The marble floor shattered, sending a shockwave that knocked the priests off their feet. Dust billowed, and from within it, a massive hand shot out, grabbing a screaming exorcist by the leg. Taurus used the man like a flail, swinging him with bone-shattering force into Dohnaseek.
The Fallen Angel was sent tumbling into the altar, coughing up blood. He looked up, eyes wide with horror, as the dust settled. Taurus stood there, veins bulging like cords of steel along his arms.
"Grace?" Taurus mocked, his voice a low vibration that rattled the stained glass. "Your grace is fragile."
Dohnaseek snarled, summoning a massive spear of light. "Die, beast!" He hurled it with the speed of a lightning bolt.
Taurus didn't dodge. He backhanded the spear.
The construct of holy light shattered like glass against the back of his hand, his thick hide-like skin sizzling before healing up. Before Dohnaseek could process the impossibility of it, Taurus was on him. He grabbed the Fallen Angel by the wings—the source of their pride, their power.
"No! Unhand me!" Dohnaseek shrieked.
"You fly too close to the ground," Taurus growled. He planted a boot on Dohnaseek's back and pulled.
The sound was wet, tearing, and sickening. A scream of absolute agony ripped through the church, silencing the skirmishes around them. Taurus tore the black wings from the Fallen's back, blood spraying in a hot, crimson arc. He tossed the mutilated angel aside like a broken toy. Dohnaseek twitched once, then fell still as Rias stepped forward, a ball of Power of Destruction glowing in her hand. She erased the body from existence with a single, dispassionate blast.
"Clear the room," Rias commanded.
Within moments, the remaining male threats were neutralized. Silence fell, broken only by the whimpering of three figures huddled near the sacristy.
Raynare, Kalawarner, and Mittelt.
They were cornered. Their leader was gone, their forces decimated, and before them stood a peerage that looked at them not as enemies, but as prey. Raynare, usually so arrogant, was trembling, her light spear extinguishing in her shaking hand. Kalawarner, the tall, busty Fallen, looked pale, her weapon lowered. Mittelt, the gothic lolita, was openly crying, clutching Kalawarner's coat.
Rias walked toward them, her heels clicking on the stone floor. She stopped ten paces away, flanked by Akeno and Taurus.
"We surrender!" Raynare cried out, dropping to her knees. Her pride had evaporated the moment she saw Dohnaseek torn apart. "We yield! We'll leave! You'll never see us again!"
"Leave?" Rias tilted her head, her eyes glowing with demonic power. "You misunderstand. You don't get to leave. You attacked my territory. You tried to kill my pawn twice. You tortured my new Bishop. The penalty is death."
The three women paled, clutching each other.
"However," Rias continued, her voice dropping an octave, becoming silk wrapped around a razor. "I am a merciful King. I have no use for corpses. But I have a great use for... livestock. At least until we can figure out if Azazel wants you back or no."
She gestured to Taurus. The giant stepped forward, his shadow engulfing the three trembling Fallen Angels. The smell of his sweat, of fresh blood and raw violence, washed over them.
"You have two choices," Rias said coldly. "I erase you here and now. Or you surrender unconditionally. Not to me. But to him."
Raynare looked up at Taurus. He was a monster. A mountain. His eyes promised no kindness, only a crushing, suffocating domination. But the alternative was the void.
"We... we choose life," Raynare whispered, bowing her head until her forehead touched the cold stone.
"Louder," Taurus rumbled.
"We choose life!" Kalawarner and Mittelt cried out in unison, dropping to their knees beside Raynare.
"Good," Taurus grunted. He reached down, grabbing Raynare and Kalawarner by the backs of their necks, lifting them to their feet as if they weighed nothing. Mittelt scrambled to follow. "Then you belong to the pen."
Akeno stepped forward then, her eyes dark and heavy-lidded, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "Ara, ara... they look like they need to be broken in, Taurus. May I assist?"
***
The transition from the ruined church to the Gremory residence was a blur of teleportation circles and silent terror. The three Fallen Angels were stripped of their weapons, their dignity, and finally, their clothes.
They were shoved into Taurus's room. It was a large space, modified to accommodate his bulk. The bed was reinforced, the floor cleared. The air here was different—thicker, heavier. It smelled of musk, sandalwood, and the terrifying pheromones of an apex predator.
The door clicked shut and locked.
Raynare, Kalawarner, and Mittelt stood huddled together in the centre of the room, naked and shivering. The moonlight cut across their pale skin and black wings.
The bathroom door opened. Akeno walked out. She was not naked, but she might as well have been. She wore a latex bodysuit that was cut high on her hips and low on her chest, exposing the creamy swell of her breasts. She held a riding crop in one hand, tapping it rhythmically against her thigh.
"Welcome to the orientation," Akeno purred, circling the three terrified angels. "You were so high and mighty, looking down on us devils. And now? Look at you. Shivering little birds."
"Ara, ara," Akeno purred, walking behind the kneeling Fallen. She trailed a finger down Raynare's spine, making the dark angel shudder. "Look at them, Taurus. So proud on the outside, but I can smell the heat coming off them. They know what happens to spoils of war, don't they?"
"They know," Taurus rumbled. His voice was a tectonic grind that vibrated in the pit of their stomachs.
"Please," Kalawarner whispered, her maturity failing her. She looked up at Taurus, her blue eyes wide. "We... we promised to serve."
"You promised to submit," Taurus corrected. He stepped forward, his heavy boot landing inches from Kalawarner's knees. "Stand up. You first."
Kalawarner scrambled to her feet, her height impressive, but she was dwarfed by him. Taurus reached out, his hand encompassing her entire throat. He didn't squeeze to choke; he squeezed to own. He pulled her close, his nose flaring as he inhaled her scent.
"Fear," he grunted. "And arousal."
He grabbed Kalawarner's wings—the source of her vanity. She flinched, expecting pain, expecting them to be torn off like Dohnaseek's. Instead, he ran a rough hand down the feathers, a touch that was possessive and degrading.
"Pretty feathers," he grunted. "Useless for flying now. You are ground-bound."
With a sudden, violent motion, he grabbed the front of her torn bodice and ripped. Fabric screamed and gave way. Kalawarner gasped, trying to cover her large, heavy breasts with her arms, but Akeno was there, pulling her wrists back, binding them with a crackle of magical lightning that served as cuffs.
"Don't hide," Akeno whispered in her ear. "He wants to see what he won."
Taurus stared at the exposed flesh, the pale skin flushing pink under his gaze. He reached out and roughly tweaked a nipple. Kalawarner let out a sharp cry that turned into a moan, her knees buckling.
"Pathetic," Taurus growled. "You call yourself a Fallen Angel? You're just a dairy cow waiting to be milked."
He shoved her down onto the bed, face first. "You two! Watch. Learn your place."
The two remaining Fallen watched in horrified fascination as Taurus mounted the bed behind Kalawarner. There was no romance here. He grabbed Kalawarner's hips, his fingers digging into her flesh, leaving bruises that would last for days.
"Spread," he commanded.
Kalawarner sobbed, a mix of shame and undeniable lust pooling between her legs. She separated her thighs.
Taurus didn't hesitate. He didn't prepare her. He simply claimed her. With one heavy thrust, he buried himself inside her.
Kalawarner screamed, her back arching, her wings flaring out instinctively. It was too big, too much, a battering ram invading her sanctuary. But as Taurus began to move, a rhythmic, punishing piston, her screams shifted. They became guttural, rhythmic grunts.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
The sound of his hips colliding with her ass filled the room.
"Look at her," Akeno commanded the others, forcing Raynare's chin up. "Look how she takes it. She was your comrade. Now she is his sheath."
Raynare watched, transfixed. She saw the way Kalawarner's eyes rolled back, her tongue lolling out, drool mixing with tears. She saw the absolute domination. And deep inside her own twisted soul, a lock clicked open.
Taurus groaned, a deep, animalistic sound. He grabbed Kalawarner's arms, using them as handles to pull her harder onto his cock. He pounded into her with ruthless efficiency, breaking down every barrier of ego, she had left.
"You like this?" he roared. "You like being conquered?"
"Yes!" Kalawarner wailed, her mind shattering into white bliss. "Yes, Master! Break me! Fill me!"
He did. With a final, hip-shattering thrust, he emptied himself inside her, the force of his release making her entire body convulse. He held her there, pinned and filled, until he was done.
He pulled out with a wet pop, leaving her twitching on the sheets, gasping for air, her mind completely blank.
He moved to stand in front of Raynare. The leader. The schemer. She looked up at him, defiance warring with terror in her violet eyes.
"You think you are still someone," Taurus said. It wasn't a question. He reached down, his hand encompassing her entire face, fingers digging into her cheeks. He forced her head back, exposing her throat. "You are a hole. A vessel for my pleasure. Nothing more."
"I am a Fallen Angel!" Raynare choked out, a last spark of resistance.
Taurus didn't hit her. He simply exerted pressure. His aura flared—a heavy, suffocating weight that pressed down on their souls. Raynare felt her lungs seize. She felt the absolute gap in power. He wasn't just stronger; he was a different species of existence.
"You were a Fallen Angel," Taurus corrected, his voice dropping to a subterranean growl. "Now, you are mine."
"Akeno," Taurus commanded.
"Yes, Master," Akeno breathed, dropping to her knees instantly beside the Fallen. She didn't hesitate. She crawled forward, her movements feline and eager, demonstrating exactly what was expected. She took him into her mouth with a reverence that was terrifying to behold. She worshipped him, her head bobbing, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy as she hummed around his girth.
The Fallen watched, mesmerized and horrified. This was the Queen of the Gremory peerage, a high-ranking devil, reducing herself to a servant.
Taurus tangled his hand in Akeno's hair, pulling her off with a wet pop. "Show them."
Akeno turned to the three, her lips slick, a string of saliva connecting her to him. Her face was flushed with a dark, manic lust. "You, see? This is your purpose now. Don't make him wait. Raynare."
Raynare trembled. She looked at the massive cock, then at Akeno's manic glee, and finally up at Taurus's cold, expectant eyes. The pride broke. It shattered audibly in the silence of the room.
She crawled forward.
"Open wide," Akeno whispered, guiding Raynare's head.
As Raynare took him in, stretching her jaw to its limit, a tear leaked from her eye. But as the rhythm began, as Taurus placed his hand on the back of her head and began to fuck her mouth with ruthless, rhythmic power, the fear began to transmute. The degradation was absolute. And deep down, in the place where her corruption as a Fallen Angel lived, a spark ignited.
Taurus groaned, the sound rumbling through the room. He pulled out of Raynare and commanded both her and Mittelt. "Both of you. On the bed. Asses up."
The two fallen rushed to do as their new master commanded. On all fours, stripped down completely as they wiggled their asses back and forth, their slits dripping with their arousal.
He lined himself up behind Raynare and thrust into her, the fallen moaning as she filled up by the same cock that was on her tongue moments before.
"Yes!" Akeno cried from the side, watching with feverish eyes, her hand working between her own legs. "Break her! Fill her!"
Mittelt, watching her superior being taken so brutally, felt a wet heat pool between her legs. It was wrong. It was terrifying. It was the most arousing thing she had ever seen.
Taurus was relentless. He was a machine of stamina and dominance. He switched between them without pause, using them, stretching them, marking them with his scent and his seed. He made Raynare beg for it. He made Mittelt count his thrusts until she lost track and dissolved into incoherent sobbing pleasure.
The room became a sauna of sweat and sex. The air was thick with the smell of cum and female arousal. The sounds were a cacophony of moans, slaps, bedsprings creaking under immense weight, and the guttural growls of the bull claiming his herd.
Finally, hours later, or perhaps minutes, time having lost all meaning, Taurus roared. He grabbed Raynare and Akeno, the two using their massive tits in tandem to bring him pleasure, pulling them close, and erupted. It was a flood that coated them, marked them.
He collapsed back against the headboard, chest heaving. Around him lay the spoils of war. Four beautiful, powerful women, broken and blissed out, tangled in sheets and limbs, covered in his essence. Akeno was licking his chest, cleaning him like a devoted pet. Mittlet and Kalwarner rested on his thighs, completely spent. Raynare lay between his legs, unconscious or asleep it did not matter, her mouth suckling the tip of his cock.
Taurus looked down at them, his expression one of calm, absolute ownership. The taming had begun.
***
Two floors up, in the master bedroom of the residence, Rias Gremory sat in her high-backed chair. The room was dark, lit only by the cold, blue glow of a magical monitor floating in the air.
On the screen was the interior of Taurus's room.
Rias watched with unblinking eyes. She saw Raynare, the woman who had caused so much trouble, reduced to a mewling mess. She saw Akeno, her best friend, finding her truest self in submission. She saw the raw, unfiltered power of her Rook, her Taurus.
Her hand had slipped beneath the silk of her nightgown long ago. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps that synchronized with the thrusts she watched on screen.
She was a King. She was a Gremory. She would be the champion of the Rating Games. But as she watched Taurus dominate the Fallen, a different desire consumed her. It wasn't the desire to rule. It was the desire to be taken. To be stripped of her crown, her responsibilities, her politics, and to be just a woman beneath a force of nature.
She watched Taurus's hand grip Raynare's hair, saw the muscles in his forearm flex, and a jolt of electricity shot through Rias' spine.
"Taurus..." she whispered into the darkness, her voice thick with longing and envy.
Her fingers moved faster, her hips bucking involuntarily against the chair. She imagined it was her in that room. She imagined her crimson hair tangled in his fingers, her body pressed into the mattress, her voice joining the chorus of submission.
As she reached her peak, crying out softly in the empty room, Rias Gremory made a promise to herself. Tonight, she had given him the spoils of war. She had fed the beast.
But soon... very soon... the King would descend from her throne to visit the bull's pen herself. And she would not be coming to give orders.
The monitor flickered off, leaving Rias panting in the dark, the image of Taurus's dominance burned into her mind, a promise of the pleasure to come.
Author's Notes
Back with another update. Leave a like and comment.
See you soon.