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. All characters are aged up (above 18) and are consenting adults. This is a work of fiction and does not resemble reality in any way whatsoever.
Chapter 15
~ Rias Gremory ~
The morning sun over Kuoh Academy seemed to unveil itself with a languid, lazy stretch, much like the redhead currently disentangling herself from the sheets of the Gremory's Kuoh mansion's master suite.
For Rias Gremory, the world had changed. The oppressive, suffocating weight of the Phenex engagement was gone. Shattered by the fists of her Rook and the resolve of her peerage.
The air tasted sweeter. The water felt cooler. And the bed… the bed felt significantly more crowded, in the best possible way.
She shifted, the silk sheets slipping down her fair, porcelain skin, revealing the faint, rosy marks of ownership on her hips. His ownership. To her left, Akeno Himejima was sprawled out, her raven hair a chaotic mess on the pillow, a satisfied, dreamy smile gracing her lips even in sleep. To her right, huddled together like a nest of exhausted birds, were the Fallen Angels—Raynare, Kalawarner, and Mittelt. They had been enemies once, but under the crushing gravity of the man in the centre of the bed, they had been turned into loyal pawns and maybe something more in the future.
And in the centre lay the man behind it all.
Taurus.
Even while he was resting, he seemed intimidating to anyone who lay eyes on him. The thick muscles of his chest rose and fell with a rhythm that matched his breathing. His horns had been let out, curved and polished, rested against the headboard. He was the anchor of her new life, the man who had broken her chains and then claimed the woman inside them.
Rias ran a hand down his bicep, feeling the corded hardness beneath the skin. A shiver of pure, unadulterated lust went through her. She was a King, yes. But here, in this bed, she was simply his.
"Mmm... Buchou?" Akeno stirred, one violet eye cracking open. "Is it morning already?"
"It is," Rias whispered, swinging her legs off the bed. She stretched, her back arching, her breasts thrusting out as she embraced the day. "And today is going to be different."
"Different?" Raynare mumbled from beneath Taurus's arm, her voice thick with sleep. "Unless we're fighting another Rating Game, I'm going back to sleep."
Rias walked to her vanity, picking up a glossy, colourful piece of paper she had found slipped into the clubroom's mail slot the day before. Her eyes gleamed with a mischievous, possessive light.
"No fighting," Rias purred, looking at the flyer for the Kuoh Annual Anime & Cosplay Convention. "Today, we own a different kind of stage. For our amusement this time."
~ Rias Gremory ~
The Occult Research Club in the Old School Building of the Kuoh Academy was usually a place of supernatural business. Today, it was a designer's room of fabric, latex, and thermoplastic.
"I don't understand," Issei Hyoudou stammered, holding up a bright orange wig. "We're going to... a convention? As a peerage activity?"
"It is a cultural study," Rias announced, standing atop a podium she had conjured, looking imperious despite holding a replica katana. "The humans gather to worship their fictional idols. It is a gathering of passion and desire. As devils, we thrive on desire. Therefore, we shall participate."
"She just wants to show off," Koneko deadpanned from the couch, though she was already inspecting the white wig of her assigned costume.
"It sounds fun!" Asia chirped, holding up a black gothic dress.
Rias clapped her hands. "Exactly, Asia! Now, I have selected costumes that reflect our... unique attributes. We aren't just going to attend. We are going to dominate."
She turned her gaze to the corner of the room, where Taurus sat on a reinforced chair, looking bored as Mittelt braided a small section of his mane-like hair.
"And you, my dear Rook," Rias said, her voice dropping to a sultry husk. "You will be the centrepiece."
Taurus grunted, his golden eyes flicking to the scrap of fabric Rias was holding up for him. "That is not a costume. That is a napkin."
"It is Biscuit Oliva," Rias corrected, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "The 'Unchained.' The strongest man in America from the Baki series. He wears nothing but his confidence... and a pair of trunks."
Akeno giggled, covering her mouth with her fan. "Ara, ara. Putting Taurus-kun on display like a prize bull? How bold, Rias."
"He is my prized bull," Rias stated, walking over to him. She placed a hand on his massive chest, feeling the heat radiate through his shirt. "And after defeating Riser, I think the world deserves to see what real power looks like. Let the humans stare. Let them drool."
She turned back to her Queen and state, "Plus, it would do wonders for our contracts. Let the humans see what us devils have to offer."
~ Rias Gremory ~
The Kuoh Convention Center was a cavernous hive of humanity. The air was thick with the scent of overpriced popcorn, unwashed bodies, and the electric passion of thousands of cameras flashing. It was a sea of colour—wigs of every shade, foam armour clanking, and the dull roar of excited chatter.
But when the Gremory peerage walked through the main doors, the roar died. It was severed, replaced by a sudden, suffocating silence that rippled outward from the entrance like a shockwave.
It started with the women.
Rias Gremory walked point. She was dressed as Erza Scarlet in her Heaven's Wheel Armor. The costume was a masterpiece of exposure and steel. Her upper body was encased in a silver breastplate that pushed her ample cleavage upward, while huge, majestic metal wings spread from her back. But below the waist, it was nothing but a billowing white skirt that was slit to the hip, revealing her long, creamy legs encased in armoured boots. She glided through the doors, her crimson hair flowing like a banner of war. The aura of nobility she naturally projected made the "Queen of the Fairies" cosplay feel less like a costume and more like a coronation.
Flanking her was Akeno Himejima as Yoruichi Shihoin. The lightning cat-goddess. She wore the Anti-Hierro armour—which was essentially white, skin-tight gear that left her shoulders and thighs bare, accentuated by cat ears and a tail. The fabric clung to her curves with sinful precision, and every time she moved, the sound of static seemed to hum in the air.
The Fallen Trio brought up the rear, a phalanx of dark desire. Kalawarner, dressed as Esdeath from Akame ga Kill, wore the white general's uniform. It was tight, authoritarian, and plunging at the neckline, her blue hair flowing wild. She carried a whip, and the look of disdain on her face, looking at the sea of human males drooling at her, was not acting. Raynare strutted as Albedo from Overlord, her natural wings blending perfectly with the white dress that featured spiderweb cutouts at her hips, showcasing her lack of underwear. Mittelt bounced along as Shalltear Bloodfallen, the gothic lolita vampire, twirling a parasol, her bratty energy perfectly encapsulated.
Koneko was a silent, stoic Sylphie, her white hair and elf ears making her look adorable yet dangerous. Asia was a perfect Misa Amane, gothic and sweet. Issei and Kiba, dressed as Denji and Trunks, looked cool, but they were invisible.
Because everyone was looking at the monstrous slab of human muscle.
Taurus walked in the centre of the formation.
He was... overwhelming.
He was dressed as Biscuit Oliva. Which meant he was effectively naked. He wore a pair of tight, dark green speedo-style trunks that left absolutely nothing to the imagination regarding the size of his package. His massive frame was oiled, making his bronze skin gleam under the convention lights. Every muscle group was defined in high-definition, the striations of his pectorals, the deep valleys of his abdominals, the tree-trunk thickness of his thighs. His eyes glinted with a golden light, and his back was a landscape of raw power, forming the terrifying "Demon Back" musculature naturally.
"Holy shit," a cosplayer dressed as Naruto whispered, dropping his ramen bowl. "Is that... is that a suit?"
"No way," his friend, a Goku, gaped. "Look at the veins. That's real. That's a real fucking giant."
The silence broke, replaced by a frenzy. Shutters clicked furiously. A wave of whispers—awed, jealous, and lustful—washed over them.
"Look at that guy!"
"Is he a bodybuilder?"
"I want to touch his abs..."
"How is he even real?"
Rias soaked it in. She heard the gasps of the women, saw the envious glares of the men. She saw a group of girls dressed as the Sailor Scouts literally stop in their tracks, their eyes glued to the heavy bulge in Taurus's trunks as he took a step.
"They like you," Rias murmured, leaning back so her armoured shoulder brushed Taurus's bare arm.
Taurus grunted, scanning the crowd with the indifference of a predator watching a herd of sheep. "They are noisy. And small."
"They recognize an Alpha," Kalawarner said from behind, cracking her whip against the floor. "Keep moving, insects! Make way for the Gremory!"
They moved through the crowd like an icebreaker ship through a frozen sea. The mortals parted, unable to withstand the sheer gravitational pull of the group.
As they reached the centre of the convention hall, the attention became suffocating. A circle had formed around them. Photographers were begging for poses.
"Hey! Big guy! Can you flex?" someone shouted.
Taurus looked at Rias. She smirked and nodded.
Taurus raised his arms. He didn't do a theatrical pose. He simply hit a "Most Muscular" pose.
CRACK.
The sound of his muscles locking into place was audible. Veins popped along his biceps like pythons. His traps flared up to his ears. The sheer density of his flesh seemed to warp the air around him.
The crowd erupted. Flashbulbs went off like a strobe light.
"Oh my god," a woman in a intricate sorceress costume breathed, fanning herself. "I think I just ovulated."
Rias heard it. She could sense the lust in the air. She smelled the pheromones spiking in the crowd—human females reacting biologically to the presence of a superior mate.
And suddenly, the fun game of "show and tell" triggered something darker in her devil heritage. The Sin of Greed. The Sin of Lust.
This was her Rook. Her man. These humans could look, but their hunger was an insult. They didn't know what it was like to take that size. They didn't know the weight of him.
A possessive fire ignited in her gut.
"Alright, that's enough!" Rias announced, her voice projecting with magical authority. She grabbed Taurus's massive hand. "We have private business to attend to. Issei, Kiba—handle the fans."
"Wait, what? Buchou!" Issei cried out as Rias turned on her heel.
She didn't stop. She dragged Taurus—not that he needed dragging; he followed her lead instantly—away from the main stage, cutting through the throngs of people toward the "VIP/Staff Only" section of the convention hall.
"Rias?" Taurus rumbled, noting the tightness of her grip. "Where are we going?"
Rias didn't look back. Her armoured boots clanked urgently against the concrete floor. She pulled him past a row of vending machines, down a dimly lit service corridor, and shoved him into a secluded, curtained-off photo booth area that was currently "Out of Order."
She kicked the curtain shut, plunging them into semi-darkness. The roar of the convention was muffled here, a distant hum.
She spun around, her eyes glowing with a demonic, turquoise light. She looked up at him—at the sweat glistening on his chest, at the bulge that was prominent in the tight trunks.
"You're enjoying this," she accused, breathless. "Letting them stare at you. Letting them undress you with their eyes."
Taurus smirked, leaning down. He crowded her against the metal wall of the booth. "I only see one person undressing me, Rias."
"Damn right," Rias hissed.
She didn't hesitate. She reached down and hooked her fingers into the waistband of his trunks. With a savage yank, she pulled them down, freeing him.
His erection sprang out, hitting her stomach with a wet slap. It was fully gorged, reacting to the public exposure and Rias's intensity.
"They want you," Rias whispered, dropping to her knees, the metal of her armour clanking. She took the head of his cock in her hand, squeezing it possessively. "But they can't have you. You belong to the House of Gremory. You belong to me."
She looked up at him through her long red lashes, seeing the heat in his golden eyes.
"Prove it," Taurus growled.
Rias opened her mouth and took him in.
It was frantic, messy, and loud. Rias bobbed her head, sucking him with a desperation fuelled by the hundreds of eyes she knew were just on the other side of the curtain. She wanted to mark him. She wanted him to smell like her saliva, like her lust.
Taurus groaned, his hands gripping her armoured shoulders. The cold metal against his hot palms was a delicious contrast. He looked down at his King, dressed as the strongest female warrior in anime, currently servicing him in a dirty booth while thousands of people walked by outside.
"Rias..." he warned, his hips snapping forward.
She pulled off, standing up quickly. She turned around, pressing her hands against the booth wall. She hiked up the white skirt of her Erza costume, revealing that she, like the character she portrayed, had opted for minimal coverage underneath.
"Put it in," she commanded, looking back over her shoulder. "Right now. Fuck me in your costume. Make me scream so loud they hear it over the loudspeakers."
Taurus gripped her hips, the metal wings of her armour grazing his chest. He lined himself up and thrust.
SCHLICK.
He buried himself to the hilt. Rias let out a high-pitched keen, her head hitting the wall.
"Yes! Yes! Taurus!"
He began to pound her. The booth shook. The metal frame rattled against the concrete. It wasn't gentle lovemaking; it was a claiming. He fucked her with the rhythm of the crowd outside, a brutal, animalistic beat.
"Someone might come in," Taurus grunted, biting her neck.
"Let them!" Rias wailed, grinding back against him. "Let them see! Let them see who the Gremory heiress belongs to!"
The curtain rippled.
Rias froze, clamping down on his cock.
Akeno's head poked through.
The Queen took in the scene instantly. Rias bent over, skirt hiked up, Taurus burying his massive shaft into her from behind, the smell of sex thick in the air.
Akeno didn't look shocked. Her eyes darkened, her tongue darting out to lick her lips.
"Ara, ara," she purred, stepping inside and letting the curtain fall. "Sneaking off for a snack without sharing? That's very greedy, Rias."
"He's big enough to share," Rias panted, her eyes glazed.
Akeno dropped to her knees behind Taurus. She crawled forward, her cat-ears twitching. She reached between Taurus's legs, cupping the heavy sac that was slapping against Rias's thighs.
"Then I suppose I'll take the back seat," Akeno whispered.
She began to lick his balls while he fucked Rias.
The sensory overload was immense. Rias screaming in front of him, Akeno worshipping him from below, the noise of the crowd, the risk of discovery.
Minutes later, the Fallen Trio—Raynare, Mittelt, and Kalawarner—found the booth. They didn't ask questions. They saw the pile of limbs and costumes and dove in.
Kalawarner, in her General Esdeath uniform, took charge of shielding the door, though she did so by kneeling and watching with hungry eyes, one hand under her skirt. Raynare used her Albedo wings to shield the others, pressing her large breasts against Taurus's back. Mittelt squeezed in, trying to kiss Taurus while he was occupied.
It was a microcosm of debauchery in the heart of the convention.
Suddenly, the sound of voices right outside the curtain made them all freeze.
"I think the restroom is this way?" a female voice said.
"No, look, this booth is occupied," another voice giggled. "Wait... do you hear that?"
Rias bit her lip to stifle a moan, but Taurus didn't stop moving. He thrust harder.
The curtain was pulled back.
Two human girls, dressed as generic maids, stood there. Their eyes went wide.
They saw everything. They saw Erza Scarlet being ravaged. They saw Yoruichi on her knees. They saw the trio fail at guarding the door since they were too busy trying to find a piece for themselves. They saw the massive, bronze-skinned giant who had been on stage earlier, his muscles rippling as he delivered a bone-shaking thrust.
They should have run. They should have screamed.
But the supernatural magnetism of a High-Class Devil, combined with the sheer, raw virility of the Minotaur, held them captive. Their mouths hung open. Their pupils dilated.
Taurus looked over his shoulder, locking eyes with them. He didn't stop. He didn't pull out.
He smirked.
"Close the curtain," he rumbled. "Or join in."
The girls looked at each other. Then at him.
One of them stepped forward, her hands shaking as she reached for her zipper.
"Is... is there room?" she whispered.
Rias laughed, a breathless, triumphant sound. "There's always room in the Gremory household."
~ Rias Gremory ~
The air inside the cramped photo booth was rapidly becoming saturated with pheromones, sweat, and heavy moaning The rhythmic thud of Taurus's hips driving into Rias Gremory had established a base beat that seemed to vibrate through the thin metal walls, syncing with the muffled bass of the J-Pop blaring from the convention floor outside.
The two human girls—maids in polyester, their costumes flimsy imitations compared to the magical weave of the Gremory peerage—stood frozen at the threshold. They were caught like two deer under headlights.
Taurus didn't stop. He didn't even slow down. The sheer arrogance of his motion was hypnotic. He was buried deep inside the Gremory heiress, his hands gripping the plating of her armor, turning the noble Erza Scarlet into a whimpering mess of pleasure. He looked over his shoulder at the intruders, his golden eyes burning with a primal intelligence that stripped them bare.
"Well?" Taurus rumbled, his voice a subsonic vibration that rattled the teeth of everyone in the small space. "The door is closing. Decide."
The bolder of the two maids, a girl with fake cat ears and a trembling lower lip, stepped forward. The heavy musk of the Minotaur—a scent of earthy musk, and raw, masculine heat—hit her like a physical wave. She didn't speak; she couldn't. She simply dropped to her knees.
"Good girl," Taurus grunted.
Rias, her face pressed against the cold metal wall, let out a broken laugh. "See, Taurus? Even the mortals... Ah!... know who the King is."
"Less talking," Taurus commanded, tightening his grip on Rias's armoured hips. "More taking."
He withdrew almost fully, the friction of his girth stretching Rias, before slamming back in with catastrophic force. Rias screamed, a sound of pure, shattered ecstasy that was swallowed by Akeno's hand clamping over her mouth.
"Quiet, Buchou," Akeno whispered, her eyes gleaming with a dark, sadistic delight as she knelt beside the tangled limbs. "Unless you want the security guards to join in too?"
The maid on the floor crawled forward. She was hesitant, terrified, but the sight of Taurus's member—slick, veiny, and monstrously thick as it pistoned in and out of the redhead—drew her in. She reached out, her small, pale hands trembling as she touched the heavy sway of his testicles.
Taurus looked down. He didn't ask for permission. He shifted his stance, widening his legs just enough.
"Clean us," he ordered the human.
The maid didn't hesitate. She buried her face between his legs, her tongue darting out to taste the salty, musky sweat of a creature that could crush her skull with a twitch of his thigh. It was degrading, it was dangerous, and it was the most exhilarating moment of her mundane life.
For Rias, the addition of the new sensation was the tipping point. The feeling of Taurus filling her completely, combined with the wet heat of the human worshipping him from below, broke her composure. Her internal monologue, usually so composed and regal, shattered into fragments of white light. She wasn't the heiress of the Gremory Clan. She wasn't the President of the Occult Research Club. She was just a sheath for her Rook.
"Taurus! Taurus, break me!" she wailed into Akeno's palm.
He obliged. With three final, pile-driving thrusts that shook the booth's frame, he flooded her.
The release was akin to a volcanic eruption. Rias's legs gave out, her armoured boots sliding on the concrete, and she hung limp in his grasp, supported only by his massive hands and the fact that he was still inextricably buried inside her.
For a long moment, the only sounds were Rias's ragged breathing and the wet, enthusiastic sounds of the human maid cleaning up the aftermath.
Taurus withdrew slowly, a wet, popping sound that made the other maid—who had been watching with wide, saucer-like eyes—audibly gulp. He turned fully, towering over the small humans. He was a god of bronze and muscle, sweating and semi-erect, utterly unashamed.
He reached down, running a thumb over the lips of the maid who had serviced him. She leaned into the touch, her eyes glazed.
"Stay here," Taurus commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Wait ten minutes before you leave. And tell no one... unless you want me to find you."
It was a threat, but the way the girls shivered suggested they heard it as a promise.
"Let's go," Taurus said to his peerage, stepping over the kneeling humans. "The air in here is stale. I want more."
Rias, legs trembling, adjusted her armour. Her face was flushed a deep, sinful crimson, her hair a chaotic halo. She looked thoroughly ravished. She grabbed Taurus's arm, leaning heavily against him.
"You heard him," Rias panted, a smug, possessive smile returning to her lips as she looked at her peerage. "The Bull isn't satisfied. Move out."
~ Akeno Himejima ~
The transition back into the main convention hall was a sensory assault. The lights seemed brighter, the noise louder. But the Gremory group moved with a different energy now. They carried the scent of sex and secrets. And they still wanted more.
Akeno Himejima, dressed as the lethal Yoruichi Shihoin, walked a half-step behind Taurus. Her violet eyes were glued to his back. specifically, to the way the muscles of his demon back shifted and coiled with every step he took. The 'Demon Back' wasn't just a physical trait; it was a map of power, and Akeno wanted to trace every ridge with her tongue.
She was jealous. Rias had been claimed. Rias had been filled. And here she was, the Queen, dry and aching.
"Taurus-kun," Akeno purred, her voice low enough that only devil hearing could pick it up over the crowd noise. "My lightning needs grounding. You wouldn't leave your Queen charged up and dangerous, would you?"
Taurus didn't stop walking, but his hand drifted back, his large fingers brushing against the exposed skin of her thigh where the Yoruichi costume left her bare. The touch sent a jolt of static electricity through her that made her knees buckle.
"Patience, Akeno," Taurus rumbled. "You like it when I make you wait."
Akeno bit her lip, a shudder running through her. He knew her too well. "I do," she admitted, her voice thick. "But I need you to make me suffer."
They were passing the "Anime Screening Zone"—a series of large, black-curtained rooms where various series were being marathoned. The signage outside one room read: Classic Horror Anime Marathon - DO NOT ENTER IF SENSITIVE.
Taurus stopped. He looked at the sign, then at Akeno. A dark, cruel smile spread across his face—a smile that looked very much like Biscuit Oliva right before he crushed an opponent.
"Horror," Taurus mused. "Fitting. Let's see if you can scream quietly."
He grabbed Akeno by the fleshy thick cheek of her ass that were jutting out of her costume—a dominant, controlling grip that made her whimper—and steered her toward the dark curtain.
"Guard the perimeter," Taurus tossed the order over his shoulder to Rias and the Fallen Trio. "Make sure no one disturbs the movie."
Rias leaned against the wall outside, crossing her arms. She was still riding the high of her own orgasm, and the idea of her Queen getting used by her Rook was deliciously voyeuristic. "Have fun, Akeno. Don't wake the neighbours."
Inside, the screening room was pitch black, save for the flickering light of the screen. A gory scene from Elfen Lied was playing, washing the room in flashes of red and darkness. About thirty people were scattered in the seats, their faces illuminated by the carnage on screen.
Taurus didn't take a seat. He pulled Akeno into the deep shadows of the standing area at the very back of the room, behind the last row of chairs, under absolute darkness.
"Kneel," Taurus whispered.
Akeno dropped instantly. The concrete floor was cold against her knees, but she didn't care. She looked up, her eyes adjusting to the dark, seeing the silhouette of the Minotaur looming over her. The screen flashed white, illuminating his trunks.
"Strip," he commanded.
Akeno's fingers fumbled with the fastenings of her bodysuit. The outfit she wore was designed to be skin-tight and revealing, but Taurus had no patience for zippers. He reached down, gripping the fabric at her hips.
RRRIP.
The sound of tearing fabric was masked by a scream from the movie's speakers. Taurus tore the crotch of the expensive costume open, exposing her completely. Akeno gasped, the cool air hitting her heated sex.
"Taurus-kun, that cost—"
"Quiet," he hissed. He grabbed her by the hips and spun her around, forcing her to bend over the railing that separated the standing area from the seats.
Akeno stared out at the backs of the unsuspecting audience heads. They were ten feet away. If she made a sound, if she cried out, every single one of them would turn around. The thrill was electric. The risk of exposure was a drug.
"You want to be a bad kitty?" Taurus whispered into her ear, his breath hot. "You want to be used in the dark like a stray?"
"Yes," Akeno breathed, trembling. "Please, Master. Breed me."
He didn't prepare her. He didn't tease. He simply lined up and thrust forward.
Akeno's mouth opened in a silent scream. Her fingers clawed into the railing, the metal biting into her skin. He was huge—too huge for this angle, too huge for silence—but he forced his way in, stretching her beyond capacity.
"Shh," Taurus warned, biting down on her sensitive ear—the real one, not the costume. "Not a sound, Akeno. If they hear you, I'll throw you over the railing and let them finish you."
It was a lie, but the threat ignited Akeno's masochism like gasoline. Tears pricked her eyes as Taurus began to move. His pace was punishing. He used her body like a tool, slamming into her with a brutality that rocked her entire frame.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
The sound of flesh on flesh was dangerously loud. Akeno bit her own wrist to stifle her moans. She watched the movie screen—blood and dismemberment—while her own body was being conquered. The chasm was intoxicating. She was the Priestess of Thunder, the Queen of the Gremory Peerage, and she was being fucked into the floor of a convention centre by a Minotaur.
"That's it," Taurus growled low in his throat, feeling her walls clamp down on him. "Take it all. Submit."
Akeno's legs were jelly. She was hanging onto consciousness by a thread. The pleasure was a sharp, blinding spike. She felt him swell inside her, the prelude to his release.
"Master... Master, please... I can't be quiet..." she sobbed in a whisper.
"Then bite something," he ordered.
He grabbed her ponytail, yanking her head back, and drove into her with a finality that brooked no resistance. Akeno buried her face in her own arm, muffling a scream that would have shattered glass. Taurus unloaded deep within her womb, marking her, owning her, flooding her with the proof of his dominance.
He held her there for a long minute, letting the aftershocks rack her body. Below them, on screen, the credits began to roll. The lights in the room flickered, threatening to come up.
Taurus withdrew, fixing Akeno's torn costume as best as he could, pulling the long sash of her outfit down to cover the damage. He spun her around, kissing her deeply, tasting her pain and pleasure.
"Good girl," he whispered. "You survived."
Akeno slumped against him, her legs useless, her eyes rolling back in her head. "Taurus... you monster..."
"I am what you made me," he replied, scooping her up effortlessly into a bridal carry.
He walked out of the screening room just as the lights buzzed fully on, carrying the limp, flushed form of Yoruichi Shihoin. Rias and the Fallen Trio were waiting.
Raynare looked at Akeno's dazed expression and the slight tremble in her hands. She swallowed hard, a mix of fear and arousal spiking in her scent.
"Is she... alive?" Raynare asked.
"She is satisfied," Taurus corrected. He set Akeno down, supporting her until she found her footing. He turned his golden gaze to the three Fallen Angels.
Raynare, Kalawarner, and Mittelt. A Succubus Guardian, a General and a Vampire Progenitor. Powerful beings in their own right. But under Taurus's gaze, they shrank. They were prey.
"You three," Taurus grunted, wiping sweat from his brow. "You've been loud. You've been desperate. You've been following me like puppies."
Kalawarner straightened her spine, trying to channel the character of Esdeath. She cracked her whip weakly. "We are simply... observing the perimeter, master. As your superiors in experience—"
Taurus stepped forward, entering her personal space. He loomed over her, blocking out the convention lights. He reached out and flicked the bill of her General's cap.
"Superiors?" Taurus chuckled darkly. "Look at you. You're dressed as a general, but you smell like a submissive in heat. It's pathetic."
Kalawarner's face flushed. "I... I am not..."
"Prove it," Taurus interrupted. "There is a photo-op area ahead. The 'Throne of Bones' set. You want to play queens? Let's see who really rules."
The group moved deeper into the convention, towards the specialized photography zone. The crowd was thinning slightly here, as the main events were drawing people to the stage, leaving the elaborate backdrops semi-deserted.
The 'Throne of Bones' was a massive prop piece, clearly inspired by Overlord. It was a high-backed chair made of resin skulls and bones. A red velvet rope kept people away, and a sign read: VIP Pass Holders Only.
Rias snapped her fingers, and a small illusion spell altered the sign to read Maintenance. She ushered the group past the rope.
"Raynare," Taurus barked.
The bitchy Fallen Angel, dressed as Albedo, flinched. The Albedo costume emphasized her hips and chest, the white dress barely containing her.
"Yes, Master?" she squeaked.
"Sit on the throne," Taurus ordered. "But not on the seat. On the floor. Where you belong."
Raynare didn't argue. The command bypassed her logic and hit her submission centre. She scurried to the throne and knelt at the foot of it, spreading her wings wide to create a screen of black feathers against the few wandering eyes passing by the distant corridor.
"Mittelt," Taurus pointed to the armrest. "On your knees. Face the back."
The petite blonde, dressed as Shalltear, pouted but obeyed instantly. She hiked up her gothic skirts, presenting her frilly-pantied rear to the room.
And Kalawarner.
Taurus walked over to the blue-haired Fallen Angel. She was clutching her whip, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity.
"You like to command, Kalawarner?" Taurus asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "You like to wield the whip?"
"I... yes," she stammered.
Taurus snatched the whip from her hand. "Wrong answer."
He sat on the Bone Throne, spreading his massive legs. He looked like a barbarian king, a conqueror resting on his spoils. The visual was striking—Biscuit Oliva on the Throne of Ainz Ooal Gown, surrounded by anime's most dangerous women, all brought to heel.
"Come here, General," Taurus commanded.
Kalawarner walked forward, her legs trembling.
"On my lap," he ordered. "Facing me. I want to see your face when I take what's mine."
Kalawarner climbed onto him, straddling his massive thighs. The white uniform strained against her curves. She looked into his eyes and saw no mercy, only hunger.
"Please..." she whispered, the facade of Esdeath crumbling completely. "Make me yours, master. I hate waiting. I hate watching."
"Then don't wait," he growled.
He grabbed her hips and pulled her down. Kalawarner gasped as he impaled her. It wasn't slow; it was like a battering ram went through her. Taurus established a rhythm that rocked the heavy prop throne.
"Mittelt," Taurus grunted, reaching out with one hand to grab the blonde vampire's hair as she knelt by the armrest. "Mouth."
Mittelt didn't need to be told twice. She leaned over, taking his thumb into her mouth, sucking on it as if it were an inferior replacement for his cock, her eyes wide and worshipping.
Raynare, kneeling on the floor, pressed her face against Taurus's shins, hugging his massive calves. "Master... Master, let me feel you too..."
"Wait your turn, dog," Taurus snapped, and she shivered with delight at the degradation.
Kalawarner was losing her mind. Bouncing on Taurus's lap, surrounded by the scent of her sisters and the overwhelming power of the Minotaur, she felt her soul fracturing. She wasn't a Fallen Angel anymore. She wasn't a villain. She was just his.
"Yes! Yes! Harder!" Kalawarner screamed, digging her nails into his massive pectorals. "Mark me! Break me!"
Taurus obliged, his hips snapping with hydraulic force. He was the centre of their universe. The convention outside—the humans, the costumes, the fake heroes—it all faded away. This was real. This power, this lust, this hierarchy.
As Kalawarner climaxed, sobbing his name, Taurus looked up. Standing just beyond the velvet rope, unnoticed by the moaning Fallen Angels, was Rias. She was leaning against a prop pillar, her arms crossed, watching the scene with a burning intensity.
But she wasn't alone.
A group of three cosplayers—young men dressed as the trio from Jujutsu Kaisen—had stopped. They were staring. Not with the leering lust of the men from before, but with fear. They saw the wings. They saw the horns. They felt the pressure in the air that made it hard to breathe.
Taurus locked eyes with the 'Gojo' cosplayer. The human froze.
Taurus didn't stop fucking the woman on his lap. He simply stared the human down, asserting dominance across the twenty feet of space.
The humans didn't run. They couldn't. They watched, mesmerized by the raw display of life and virility, until Kalawarner collapsed against Taurus's chest, spent and broken.
Taurus finally looked away, dismissing the humans as if they were insects. He gently patted Kalawarner's head, then looked down at Raynare, who was rubbing her cheek against his foot.
"Up, Albedo," Taurus said softly. "The throne needs a Queen, and my lap is empty."
Raynare looked up, tears of gratitude in her eyes. "Yes... oh, thank you, Master..."
As the rotation continued, Rias pushed off the pillar. She walked over to the stunned human boys, flashing them a smile that was equal parts dazzling and terrifying.
"Show's over, boys," she purred, her eyes flashing with a brief hint of crimson demolition power. "Or perhaps... you'd like to volunteer as furniture?"
The boys scrambled away, tripping over their own feet in their haste to escape the heavy gravity of the Gremory clan. Rias let them go, but not before she hit them with a memory altering spell.
Rias turned back to her family. Her Rook was sitting on a throne of bones, surrounded by beautiful, broken women, administering pleasure and pain with the impartiality of a force of nature.
It was depraved. It was scandalous. It was dangerous.
The devil within her sang with life and lust.
And Rias Gremory had never felt freer.
Author's Note
Thoughts?