Astolfo's Excellent Infernal Adventures

Astolfo the Rider smiled as he and his mount came upon the city's gates. The youthful knight, riding a suitably nightmarish horse made of literal fire (how he managed to saddle it was anyone's guess), had traveled far throughout the ever-shifting Netherworld, on a quest for a hellishly beautiful flower said to only take root in the soil of the demon realm!…It probably had practical uses, too, but why Astolfo was searching for the rare flower wasn't really the point. The point was that his travel had led him past the underworld's gates and, eventually, into this city, where he hoped he might find the flower he was seeking. For sale. Ideally. Not that he had much money on him, but… he'd figure something out!

So he sedately rode into town, blissfully unaware of what was about to transpire. It was sweltering hot in the Netherworld, and between that and the literal horse of fire, he'd worked up quite a sweat. He'd even taken off his cloak, though his gauntlets were still on as he maneuvered his supernatural mount. Naturally, the part close to the horse was among the hottest, and that included what lay between his legs. It wasn't just that he was sweaty, mind. More important than that was the scent of raw, unadulterated virility that was pouring off him in thick, musky waves. Astolfo was a legendary hero, after all, so it wasn't a great surprise that he would be legendarily well endowed, or that his pheromones would broadcast that endowment with unusual fervor, but the baking warmth amplified the effect a dozen times over. The potency radiating outward from him both physically and metaphysically would be enough to addle even a human woman (or man!) at close range.

For semen-fueled succubi? He might has well have put up a billboard screaming "FREE FOOD HERE." Literally screaming, with loudspeakers. And neon lights. And probably blackjack and hookers.

There was no doubt about it. Astolfo was doomed.

What happens has to be seen to be believed. You know that scene in old west movies where the stranger rides into town, and the townspeople just slam doors and windows shut and hang "closed" signs as he passes? The opposite of that happens.
Doors and windows open, on all floors, and all sorts of faces and eyes pop out, staring in surprise and disbelief. Faces going through every hue of the rainbow except those normally reserved for humans, honestly, with a majority of blues and reds. And, all the eyes are strictly hemmed by black, demonic scleras.

But really, there's all sorts of them. There's loli demons and milf demons, boob demons and flat demons, punk girl demons and goth girl demons, musclegirl demons and girl-that-looks-like-a-boy-that-looks-like-a-girl demons.

It's just a matter of time, really. They begin pouring out from the houses en masse, a colorful, sexy horde blocking the road ahead.

A lot of them try to say some one-liner. Most of them think that asking for a "toll" is funny, others just make directly lewd remarks, catcalls, or honestly just ask for sex. A few beg. At least one tries to get underneath the fire-horse… who is honestly just spooked by this point, magical riding ability or no.

And in general all of their lines get mish-mashed together, with the end result of about a hundred or so succubi talking over each other, swarming around Astolfo's ride, blocking his way, trying to reach up to him and pull him down from there.

Of course, Riding Skill A+ means that none of that was gonna fly, but still, the path was blocked and they were actually hanging on to him, the first of them starting to climb up on top of the horse! (well, most demons ARE fire-immune…)

Astolfo is… completely unprepared for this. His eyes widen as he's blocked and then swarmed by a horde of lustful demongirls. He can't make out much of anything they're saying, but the need in those eyes and the lewd faces makes their intentions all too clear.

Which, honestly, might not be the worst thing! Sex is fun, after all, but he doesn't want to be held down and passed around and fought over. At least, not without getting something out of it. Briefly, he considers activating La Black Luna, but that seems like it'd be a bit overkill? They're too cute to blow away, anyways. So he just guides his horse backwards, a frown on his face as he fends off clinging demons with his free hand.

Until, a few moments later, he has it! A plan!

"Say," he casually asks, "would any of you happen to know where I could find a certain flower? One with a stem as black as night and petals as red as fire, perhaps?"

A moment of confused silence ensues. The girls clearly have no idea. After a few seconds, they start pointing in disparate directions, clearly making it all up on the spot, while others go "I know!" or "I'll tell you!"

"I know where the Crimson Flower is!" One of them, who is lingering near the back and who seems to have arrived a bit late, shouts out, and her words have a certain… certainly to it. It doesn't feel like she's making it up!

At first glance, the succubus is one among many. Lavender-skinned, she's wearing long black bridal gloves and socks and nothing else (about as much covered surface area as anyone else here), with a spade-tipped tail and no wings, and bright red eyes. She looks… SMUG.

A fey of the other girls turn around, looking rather pissed. "What the fuck, Alradia?" "Who called YOU?" "Why would YOU know?" "How did you find out?" "She's making it up, girls!" "Don't believe her, you beautiful manly boy you!" "Get out of here!"

The succubus in question breathes in, and screams out her reply to the crowd: "Because I actually GET OUT, you dumb bitches! All you do is pass your time within the city walls, blowing your harems of boring normal humans that come teaspoons each time, instead of actually GOING OUT THERE and meeting the interesting people with the big dicks and the balls as large as watermelons!"

The girls' answer is a wishy-washy, bored "Eeeeh" with some excuses mixed in like "It's hot outside" or "Too much work" or "I heard the other worlds are like dangerous" or "It's cold outside".

Astolfo watches the spectacle, a bemused eyebrow raised as the show goes on. Which raises higher when 'Alradia' steps out from the back. And higher still when some of the others shout at her. This… is not what he expected.

But his frown turns into a smile as it goes on. And by the time they're making excuses, he can't contain his laughter. The boy grins, pushing his horse into a slow trot even as he speaks. (It seems quite content to run over and/or kick aside any hapless demons still clinging to/blocking it.)

"Now there's someone with spirit! My, my… Usually, screaming at the top of your lungs isn't an endearing character trait, but I think you can hardly be faulted in this instance." With another chuckle, and one last merciless removal of an infernal obstruction, Astolfo reaches Alradia, and he bends down and pulls her up onto his mount, setting the succubus down behind him, atop his discarded cloak.

He smiles at her, soft and warm. "Show me what I seek, and I'll be happy to give you all the lust I am able. Ah, but where are my manners? I am Astolfo, Twelfth Paladin of Charlemagne, and it's a pleasure to meet you, miss Alradia~" And he even takes her hand and brings it up to his lips. Mwha!

Apparently the blushing color for lavender skin is actually a bright magenta that looks exactly like spilled printer ink! The more you know.

Alradia clearly wasn't expecting anything of the sort. The idea of being whisked up by a literal knight in shining armor (well sort of), manly yet adorable, and carried around for a ride on his mighty steed~! And also on his actual horse which is also nice I guess…

This experience would be destroying her panties, if she wore any. The added bonus of seeing her sisters trampled down was only making her turned even more and more.

But it's when he kisses her hand that her sanity just goes to the moon and her pupils go heart-shaped.
Unable to keep functioning, she grabs Astolfo's shoulders, presses her body against his own, legs locking around his waist and arms around his back, as if trying to merge with him, and hoarsely whispers into his ear: "…Pla-pl-please… I can't take it anymore. I can't go on. You can't- you can't do this to me…"

Astolfo smiles at Alradia's immense arousal- blatantly obvious, what with it literally contorting the shape of her body. Now, love, that's something he's familiar with. He's laid with few succubi, if any, but he still seems quite comfortable with this situation, and quite clear on what to do:

Tease her until her sanity breaks even further.

His arms wrap around her, and he smiles, nuzzling against her neck even as his horse carries them slowly and steadily away. "What could I, a mere mortal*, do to you, a demon of lust itself? I'm sure you can survive a little chivalry, my lady. Or a little teasing. Lead me to that Crimson Flower," he whispers, running his hands pleasantly down her sides, "and then I'll go down on you. Then I'll empty out every last drop inside of you. In front of the girls you hate so much, if you prefer. I'm sure Rabicano here could keep them from interfering. Every agony you experience in delaying your pleasure, I promise to rectify a thousand times over…"

Astolfo allows himself the smallest of teasing smirks as he adds, "Or is there no amount of future pleasure that could soothe your present arousal?"

Alradia trembles and quivers in Astolfo's arms, slowly, slowly trying to tear herself off him.

The willpower effort is MONUMENTAL, and only possible from the promise of even harder, manlier dickings later on. But, really, it was probably the promise of making her his in front of all her sisters that won her over.

She slowly pulls back from her borderline-yandere hug, thick tears of blood streaking down her face, biting her lips in so much that her face is distorted and shivering.

She nods.

"Alradia is a good girl," she barely manages to mumble out, almost-mechanically. A trembling index is lifted towards a mountain in the distance, one of countless red, fire-blasted peaks in the hellish landscape. "M-mountain." She hiccups.

"Mountain," Astolfo repeats, extricating himself from her grip enough to bring his attention back to guiding his horse towards its destination. Fortunately, Rabicano is evidently fairly bright, and gets the idea of where to go after a few whispers and nudges. It's a remarkably gentle ride, too, the mount's incorporeal nature evidently smoothing out the bumps in the road beneath.

That leaves plenty of time for Astolfo to address his passenger once again.

"Alradia is a good girl," he agrees, smiling brightly. His eyes roam first upwards, towards her bloody eyes… without any hesitation, he pulls a handkerchief from God knows where and wipes the tears away, gently petting her head before discarding the crimson-soaked rag. "And good girls deserve rewards." He glances downwards meaningfully, towards her flooded slit. And towards the massive bulge beneath his skirt, but though Astolfo is quite obviously aroused, his breath warm and his body trembling, he seems to possess a surprising amount of self-control. At least in this particular area. "Might I be able to soothe Alradia's desire with my hands? Or my tongue, perhaps? To calm her raging spirit until the time has come to let it run wild?"

Surprisingly, Alradia shakes her head, though not without some hesitation. But it really does make some sense.

The poor girl(?) is practically broken right now. No amount of superficial teasing could well help her at this point.
She clearly needs the D. NEEDS it. That's where her eyes are fixated, at least until Rabicano has made its way to the apex of the mountain.

Then, she manages to tear her eyes off her prize, pointing to a small, out-of-sight cave near the apex. It would've been hard to find unless someone knew exactly what to look for, or was scouring the entire mountain.

"I- I f-find them there. N-near a pool." She shivers and gulps.

By this point, Astolfo has probably realized that the demon-girl has a slight form of telepathy. His own Magic Resistance was more than enough to block him from though-reading, but the succubus was so distracted that she was actually broadcasting. Probably without having any idea. And her current fantasies about Astolfo were nothing if not graphic.

(…of course, she had no way to actually know that the paladin was VASTLY more endowed and virile than even her more rosy dreams…)

Astolfo nods, turning away from the shivering, fixated girl and focusing on what he came here for. Where she's directing him. The cave she's pointing him to.

At least it's close by, or he too might have lost it. After all, those visions being pushed into his mind are… distracting. Vivid, certainly. They make him smile, for all manner of reasons, but they also make his manhood throb as it demands to be put to its proper use.

Still, he refuses to give in. If he lets himself go here, he won't be able to give her his full capacity later, in the public and depraved way that she seems so interested in! And Astolfo has never let a lover down _{in bed at least,} and he's not going to start now!

So he makes his way to the cave, and at the mouth of it, Astolfo finally brings Rabicano to a halt. Even a horse made of fire shouldn't be taken inside a cave, and he slips off the saddle, patting the beast as if to tell it to stay put before taking a few steps away.

Then he turns back, to get in one last quip.

"Your fantasies are short a few feet, my lady. And a couple dozen gallons."

He might be exaggerating. He might be vastly understating. Either way, he's definitely packing an impossible amount of meat within those innocuous undergarments, and Alradia will no doubt be very pleased with whatever finally comes out…!

…and his smirking trails off. "OH, and. Uh. You can fuck the horse? I-if that's your thing, I mean. I've met lots of interesting people into interesting things, so I don't judge, n-not that I'm trying to imply anything and _{I'll just go get that flower thank you.}"

No matter how smooth you are, some things will never not be awkward. Luckily, Astolfo has a perfectly good excuse to flee into the cave in search of legendary flowers!

As Astolfo returns, he beholds a ghastly spectacle.
Rabicano is lying on the ground, his flames almost going out, barely flickering. The poor horse is well, just temporarily weakened and traumatized.

Lying just next to him, eyes rolled up into her skull, overly-long tongue hanging out of her mouth, lies the demon girl in question. Her stomach is distended to the point that she looks like she somehow managed to swallow (or insert into herself in some other creative way) a while watermelon. Not one of those small ones either, but the world-class prize-winner ones.

She seems to be unresponsive.

Astolfo stares. And stares. And stares some more.

Then he brings his face to his palm.

"Alradia, I said you could fuck my horse, not 'screw yourself unconscious on my horse'," he chastises, even though he has no idea if she's at all awake. The Rider crosses over to the battered duo regardless, carefully nudging at the girl's bloated belly with a foot, even as he murmurs something soothing in his poor steed's general direction. He wasn't one to talk about excessive enthusiasm, but even so! Sheesh!

After about fifteen seconds or so, Alradia blinks awake.

Wobbly and uncertain, she manages to sit up. "Uuu-uum… S-sorry…" She mumbles, looking, for once, ashamed of herself, as her stomach returns to normal, her body assimilating the ponderous amount of magical horse spooge. A soft glow exudes from her.
At least now she looks like she's more in control. Her thirst has been… no. Not sated. She's a succubus.

She has gained the ability to delay it for a little longer, let's say.
"…Were the flowers… good?" She hesitatingly looks up to him. She really does have the look of a dog who accidentally broke a vase and now the owner has found out and HE KNOWS WHAT HE DID.

"Yes, the flowers are fine, you silly girl." He's holding them in the hand that he isn't using to flick Alradia in the forehead. Which, by the way, is a thing he is doing, chastising her like the dog she really does act like sometimes. But… he smiles. "I've still got promises to fulfill, don't I? Come on," Astolfo encourages, letting her pull herself upright - and maybe even to her feet! - as he goes to soothe and heal poor Rabicano. "I said I'd rut you in front of all those girls and that's what I'll do. Though I'll leave the exact location up to you. I'm sure you know the town - and its occupants - much better than I, hm? Ah, there there. Up, boy. Gooood boy…" He trails off into meaningless coos as he gets his fiery horse back up to its feet, occasionally glancing back at the needy succubus.

Alradia is CLEARLY faking being weak and unstable on her feet (despite that load probably actually INVIGORATING her) so that Astolfo would pick her up in her- in his manly arms, hold her to his chest, and lift her up on top of Rabicano once more.

(As for the horse, he was probably satisfied as well but still dimly wondering what just happened)

"I-uh… C-can you bring me to- there's a plaza of b-black flagstones in the middle of town… I-I want you to t-take me there,,," And then, bringing up both hands to her face, once more broadcasting loudly her thoughts, uncontrollably: "…u-until there's a crater…"

Astolfo smiles knowingly at her obviously-faked weakness, but nonetheless he pulls her up onto Rabicano after himself… this time going so far as to pull Alradia onto his lap, letting her bare, needy hips grind against the immense bulge in his panties. The incredibly hard bulge in his panties. Like, non-metaphorically rock hard. There's something going on there, isn't there? It must have to do with how heavy and dense they seem, practically an immovable object compared to her body.

The knight, on the other hand, seems to have no trouble handling himself, and Rabicano similarly appears quite comfortable with carrying the both of them, now that it's recovered from the ordeal of a rowdy succubus. With a shout, Astolfo sends the mighty steed thundering back down the mountain, making good time towards their destination (black flagstones, center of town). Compared to the climb up here, the frantic sprint downwards seems to take a metaphorical instant.

The town, by now, is already pretty much on high alert, with packs of lusty, hungry succubi roaming its alleys, and chatter and rumors running wild. Arriving on a literal horse made of fire is hardly subtle, but it's also true that… why would you WANT to be subtle?

The horny equivalent of a torch-and-pitchfork mob starts gathering up to block the horse's path, but Rabicano just heedlessly plows through their ranks, in a completely non-sexual way (for now), sending them flying everywhere. (It's fine, they're succubi, they're sturdy.)

The plaza itself is little more than a oversized crossroads, with tall buildings on every side. It's deep into the city, so it takes a while for the scattered inhabitants of the demon city to show up. When they do, they're clearly wary, both anxious to somehow capture and rape the intruder (yeah right), and justly afraid of the complete, casual disregard for every opposition they've this far put up with.

That's about when Alradia manages to stand up, on top of the saddle (apparently she has good balance!), and speak up, holding down one hand to hang on to Astolfo's shoulder.

"HOW DO YOU LIKE IT NOW, SKANKS?!" Are the first, venom-filled words to leave her mouth, with a tone of delirious gloating. "You made fun of me! You thought I was crazy to leave! But I'll show you! I'LL SHOW YOU ALL!"

Then, she looks down at Astolfo below, grins, and, with a commanding tone of voice that's completely inappropriate considering their relative power, commands him:

"DESTROY me."

Astolfo smiles at her gloating like a mad genius, even if what she's about to unleash is hardly an abomination of magic and foulest science. It's endearing, really. And it makes what's about to happen even more delightful. Besides, it really deserves the gravitas Alradia is giving it.

"As you wish, my lady. Ah, but we may wish to step down." Without waiting for confirmation, he slips down from Rabicano, reaching up and pulling Alradia down to his level a moment later. He wraps an arm around her, takes her lips in a warm, gentle kiss…

And yanks his panties down.

There's a flash of light. A sound. Perhaps a meaty, massively overpowering parody of a 'pomf'. Not that the succubus has much time to think about that, as a wave of flesh surges up from beneath her and sends her flying into the air. Just for a few moments, before gravity reasserts its hold and she crashes face down into… cock.

She knew he was packing a lot, but this defies reality. It's bigger than his entire body. It's bigger than her entire body. It's bigger than some of her bigger sister's. There must be ten, fifteen, maybe twenty feet of massive, veiny girth, blood running wildly across its immense length. It's wide enough to land on. If she were so inclined, she could fit herself inside it, easily, or inside either of those immense, bloated balls, sloshing and churning with a mind-boggling amount of seed. Gallons of precum are already pooling on the tip, the scent hitting her like a freight train of raw lust.

It's completely ridiculous. Absurd. Impossible. But it's certainly powerful.

Astolfo himself seems almost insignificant by comparison. Still, he's surprisingly mobile in spite of the monstrosity he's revealed, sitting down and leaning back with a grin like the cat who caught the canary.

"I was told, originally, that these panties could hold anything." The knight allowed himself a sigh of delight, the throbs of his heartbeat shaking the plaza as he basked in the weight of his lover atop the absurd organ. 'Turns out, that wasn't quite true. Basically? They make the thing inside them able to fit into anything. And gradually make said something bigger, just to prove it. Quite remarkable, isn't it?"

He blows a kiss up towards Alradia, then turns out towards the crowd. "And no, you may not touch it. Unless my lover wills it. And somehow I don't see that happening…"

it takes a few seconds for Alradia to realize where she is. On top of a fucking skyscraper. And the "fucking" is not, like, one of those words you put in your sentences to make them seem more intense or anything.

She's gripping the top with both hands. The head is wide enough for her to SIT on it. Like, comfortably. There's a fountain of pre oozing from it, such a casual amount being already more than all the actual cum she has managed to down in her entire life up to now.

In her adventures, Alradia has met gods and goddesses, angels and archdevils. Even her own mother is basically a force of nature, the first succubi, the mother of lust herself.
Yet, Alradia has never truly felt AWED like this before. This must be what experiencing true divinity is like.

She stretches an arm down, along the side. The distance it crosses is risible. One of the veins, running nearby, is easily as thick as her arm, visibly pumping blood from god-knows-where, throbbing with each pulsation.
It's not even the largest vein.

The crowd goes just… stunned. Eyes stare, mouths water, but… this isn't doable anymore.

It's not even a matter of size. It's not like NONE of these succubi is thinking "I can't take this, this is too big". It's more like brains going in complete shutdown, no ability for rational thought.

Alradia, however, is adventurous. She's the sort who travels, who tries new things. Who tries. Who doesn't think things through, also.

So, from up on top there, twenty feet into the air, hoisted up on the greatest pillar of fuckmeat she's EVER seen, she can only mumble her actual thoughts. What's going through her brain in that moment.

"…I want to see the balls." She mumbles, still stunned. They're too far down there. She needs to be helped down.

Astolfo takes it all in stride. Then again, that's not really a surprise, is it? It's his own endowment, even if he implied it wasn't quite natural. He's got to be used to this. For him, it's simply a Sunday.

Even though she mumbles, he hears her, clear as day. Perhaps she broadcasted it telepathically? Regardless, he smiles up at her, or at least at about where he feels her hanging off of his dick (and isn't that something?). "Just one moment, my lady."

Helping her down off that enormous tower of fuckmeat, it turns out, involves focusing. Like any shaft, Astolfo's shaft isn't inanimate. Unlike most shafts, animating it involves a bit of work. A bit of focus, feeling deep into his core, and then….

Throb. One powerful throb, in fact, powerful enough to break Alradia's grip- if not, the blast of additional precum to slicken that gigantic meat ought to do the trick, sending her either sliding down or outright falling.

Luckily, his balls are there to catch her, soft and wet and sloshy as the succubus flops into them. The impact teases a long, lewd moan from Astolfo's throat, and another mind-boggling load of precum easily as thick and as hot as white, opaque tar comes gushing out from that broad fountain of a cumslit. "Ahhh…. h-hey~" he coos, grinning up in her general direction as she sinks into those gurgling, churning orbs, roiling and pulsing and wriggling beneath her.

"You know, i-if you don't want to be pregnant… w-well, I probably should have warned you beforehand. Oops." She can hear his sheepish smile. Of course, he doesn't know that she can't normally be impregnated, but - the tar sliding down the side of his length may make her question that, if she looks at it! She can see his sperm, just large enough to make out the shape of countless pearly tadpoles writhing and wriggling as they make their descent along his warm, fluid-coated length. Something this ridiculous might just be an exception.…

Alradia's surprises have no end. And her face, right now, is telegraphing one singular obvious thought.

This is the best day of my life. Nothing will top this. I'll remember this moment, even if I live to be a million years old.

The plaza is still silent, except for the noise of gushing, flowing precum, a torrential river that has, by now, found its natural outflow down one of the city's main streets, lapping at the ankles of the succubi that are surrounding the plaza in that particular direction.

Some actually move out of the way. Others collapse to their feet, break down and start crying. A few dare bring a finger down, immerse it in the river, bring it to their lips, and faint.

"D-don't worry. I… I can't get pregnant. yet." Alradia, sitting on Astolfo's oversized, industrial cum-production factories, brings a hand down, to rest its palm against one of them.

Each one of them is easily large enough for her to curl up in a ball and climb inside. Comfortably, even. No need to be a contortionist. She could feel them shivering. Not the powerful drum-beat of blood, however. Something far more primal: sheer PRODUCTION. She was feeling those massive testes at work, relentlessly making far, far, far, far, FAR more sperm than a mind could comprehend.

"…When I gain that power, I'll come and see you again. I want you to give me one trillion babies."

What were they outproducing? Cities? Countries? Entire planets, maybe. The lucky succubus' mind was racing wild.

She stood up, actually standing on top of Astolfo's balls, One foot planted firmly on one, the other on the other, arms crossed, staring straight into the crowd.

She finally manages to speak out to them once more.

"…This is what you deserve. For just waiting in your houses for the perfect man to just HAPPEN, instead of going out there and SEARCHING. The flowers were just outside the city. Anyone could've seen them. But how come I was the only one who actually bothered to go CHECK?"

She lets out the obvious thought that prompted her exploration in the first place: "just in case there was some stud hidden in that cave."

Well, there WAS, in a certain sense. She just had to wait.

Now, her wait is over.

"None of you get even a bit of him. Astolfo is MINE. I'm CLAIMING him. I'm HIS succubus, and HE's going to fuck ME into oblivion, to his heart and balls' content. But… I'm not completely heartless. We ARE sisters, after all…" Then, with a dismissive wave of the hand, she delivers the finishing blow.

"…You can get the horse."

Then, Alradia hugs the massive, steel-hard pillar, with hands and legs, and starts pole-climbing it, dead-set on getting on top.

"Come and see me again?" Astolfo murmurs, sounding playfully hurt. "What made you think I wouldn't take you along with me? An adventurous spirit like yourself…"

He pauses, not for dramatic effect, but just to enjoy Alradia's weight atop him. The rivers of precum have shifted to falling down a different side of that divine fuckpole, as if purposely keeping from drowning Alradia in sperm. They still flow the same way, and more like a mighty river than like anything a mere human could produce. If anything, it's more powerful than any measly water could hope to be. Those churning, wriggling tadpoles don't just keep it eternally warm and pleasantly tingling to the touch; they grind and scrape against the flagstones, wear down pebbles into dust and churn the remainder so thoroughly that it's not clear if it's simply dissolved or being outright consumed by the flood of fertility. The river of seed is eroding the ground, at a rate hundreds or thousands or millions of times faster than any natural flow: doing what would take the same volume of water years or centuries, so fast the stunned crowd can see it before their very eyes.

Astolfo, of course, seems unconcerned by how his absurd virility is permanently altering the landscape, taking a breath and smiling as a particularly massive blast of bubbly, boiling sperm gushes from his tip and splashes across the stones. "An adventurous spirit like yourself, Alradia, would be welcome to travel with me! To see the sights and beauties of the world, to meet unique and interesting people, and yes, to mate with them. And yes, to mate with me. The only downside, as far as I can see, is that you might, occasionally, have to share with those worthy." He glances meaningfully at the unworthy succubi around them, his smile turning playfully cruel, if only for a moment.

Then he turns his attention back to Alradia's climb, leaning his body back and resting on his hands as he enjoys the show, the sensation drawing happy little moans and sighs of bliss out of him every few seconds. It's… surprisingly easy for the succubus, all things considered. Veins as thick as her arm make decent grips, and they seem to surge and throb under her, nudging her upwards all on their own. The pillar tips downwards, away from her, reducing the grade of the climb and keeping the slowly-but-steadily-increasing flow of what at this point can hardly be called precum from interfering. The constant churning and earth-shaking throbs even seem to diminish, enough to keep her from slipping or being flung off of the titanic length.

"I'm very much… an adventurous spirit." She mumbles, trying to keep focused. Rock climbing was never her forte. And this is rock climbing! The terrifying member has very, very little of the normal suppleness of flesh. It feels more like warm, virile granite shrouded in a thin skin.
Also vibrating, from all the cum flowing through it. He's not even cumming, actually! The sheer HYDRAULICS of the mainmast of fuck were impressive, on battleship Astolfo.

The nautical puns were coming unbidden to her mind. She couldn't help it. Now, her city was cut in two by a river. She bit her lips, thinking of all the cum being wasted. Her brain, of course, was still incapable of grasping that that amount meant absolutely nothing. It was a rounding error. All it could do was bemoan the loss of what it could see and understand. "…I'll come with you. I WANT to come with you. Actually, you're NOT going to get rid of me. And… I'm not so egotistical, so self-important, to think that I could claim this all for myself and no one else's." That was an understatement, of course.

Finally, she made it back on top, gripping the head, slowly hoisting her back up on top. Sitting down, in front of the fountain-hole, from where she could see the jet spraying out.

This was going to be the largest thing she'd ever take, and she was feeling… ready.
She looked down. Almost a case of vertigos. Astolfo himself, the "main body", which was, by now mostly balls with one cute knight attacked to them, seemed so far away.

Alradia was going to be fine. Hopefully. She was elastic, right? Plus, she knew, notionally, that nadirian succubi had the ability to fit anything.
She just never tested that ability to THIS extent.
….But he said that it was GOING to fit nonetheless, right?
She was going to do this.
Reclining her body ahead, she let the spray paint her lower half. Suddenly, she felt covered with small, delicious wiggling things, slapping about with savage strength despite their minute size, actively seeking her pussy, borrowing into it with desperation.

Taking the leap, she reached down with both hands, and managed to force the first third of Astolfo's cock's head into her.

That tiny portion of Astolfo's cock slid inside… surprisingly easily. A forceful blast of writhing sperm smashed against and probably straight into her womb, a single pulse of 'pre' flooding her with more sperm than she'd probably seen in her entire life until this moment.

Then all resistance vanished, and she slid, dropped like a stone. She couldn't tell if it was her body stretching, the cock compressing, or both, but no matter the case, she was in freefall for but a moment, ramming that massive length into herself as fast as gravity could pull her, never mind that it was wider than her hips were supposed to be, nevermind that her whole body had to be reshaped to just fit its width much less its immense length. Twenty feet of cock entered Alradia in an absurd moment, carrying her down until she slammed against those plump, immense balls, cratering them with her form.

Astolfo moaned delightedly at the impact, and at suddenly being, impossibly, balls deep with his immensely oversized length. Unsurprisingly, it was enough to milk out another absurd load. Yet again, Alradia found herself redefining what counted as 'productive', making that last load seem insignificant by comparison. It was so thick and dense that it was a wonder it was even liquid, yet it was certainly liquid enough to fill the succubus's womb like she'd never been filled before. Even the relatively meager amount that leaked out around the base of his shaft was voluminous enough and dense enough to turn the ground to mud beneath them in an instant, stripping off a centimeter of stone and putting out so much goop that was so viscous that, for a moment, Astolfo was up to his stomach in the rich, sticky substance, before it had time to spread out and flow away.

He purred in delight as he recovered from that moment, his output going back to something slightly more 'reasonable', for now, at least. Sadly, Astolfo couldn't quite see Alradia with those balls in the way… but that was far easier to rectify than it ought to have been. The powerful Rider simply stood up, took one orb in one hand, and, with an ease that made it seem like space itself was bending, tucked the sack behind his body. Then he did the same for the other, slipping it between his legs as if it were a simple marble instead of being wider across than both of his arms combined.

"Aaahh… there we go." Astolfo grinned cheekily, pulling his cock-impaled, sperm-bloated lover into a hug, lightly kissing her cheek. "The magic panties are very convenient, wouldn't you agree?"

Alradia isn't in any condition to agree.

She has been basically turned to a gigantic. living condom. Much like Astolfo is now a giant dick with a tiny cute knight connected to it, she is now a thin, lavender-colored cover stretched over that dick, connected to a tiny succubus somewhere. This is not a matter of "womb" anymore. There's no "pussy" or "womb" or any sort of anatomy.
There's just the dick, and what's around the dick.

Alradia normally would have powerful muscles all over her depth, made to bully and tease and expertly manipulate and massage anything inserted. She had prided herself on being strong enough to snap a staff in half, and dexterous enough to tie a knot, with her pussy. It could bring the mightiest of dicks to their knees. Figuratively. (sometimes literally)

That meant nothing here. Alradia was beyond ahegao. Her face made no sense, nor did her words, and her muscular contractions also meant nothing. She was so far outclassed that she might not even have been there. Her arms and legs weren't responding anyway, flailing around uselessly.

And yet. And yet, that flow of terrifying cum was pooling inside her. It was sloshing inside, thundering, roaring, INFLATING her.

Her body was nothing if not two things, however: convenient, and obedient. Even with its owner "on hold", so to speak, waiting for the brain upstairs to straighten, it was still doing what it was supposed to do.

Getting filled by the riverload.

After a handful of seconds, Alradia's ever-expanding sphere of inner happiness started bumping into buildings.

That's exactly when the succubi standing around finally realized that what they were looking at wasn't a stud, or a god, or a cruel joke of nature.
He was a natural disaster, and they should have treated him as such already.

They began to scream, panic, and scatter.

Astolfo is definitely a natural disaster by this point. And he's reveling in it. The adorable knight laughs as Alradia's immensely bloated belly (or is it an immensely bloated belly that happens to be attached to Alradia?) starts pushing aside the buildings stupid enough to get in its way. He's practically cackling, even, howls of laughter mixed with howls of delight as impossible pleasure runs through his system and lake-full after lake-full of sperm churns up out of his reality-defying balls and blasts into the ever increasing balloon of white tar that is the succubus's interior.

At least her anatomy is still good for one thing. Cum stops leaking out as the supernatural sex finally gets a good seal on that immense girth distorting it. Astolfo can't help but notice the rivers of spunk beginning to fade away outside, and it gives him an idea.

With a huff! of effort, the boy pulls himself backwards, collapsing onto the mud that's replaced the flagstones. Slowly, the living condom follows suit, rolling onto his hands as he holds them up to keep them from suffocating him. It's dark, and he's surrounded by his lover's flesh, and pleasure is driving him mad, and he's more manhood than man, and it's a miracle he can even breathe, and his truly apocalyptic climax is nigh at hand, but he's quite content, merrily giggling and moaning and grunting and twitching and writhing and bucking away.

After all, with the change in position, it's much easier for Alradia's sloshing, wobbling form to spill out across the entire town instead of just part of it. And that's what's really important here, right?~

The lavender-colored sphere just keeps getting BIGGER. All that's really stopping her from slipping and flying away like a bottle rocket, right now, is just her incredible ability to grip onto the base of Astolfo's cock.

Effectively, all she can see now is the viewpoint from the base of the towering pillar of fuckmeat. Which is basically nothing. Two enormous balls behind her, used like soothing, vibrating cushions. Herself ahead, rapidly being stretched to a city-sized wrecking bowl by pressurized goodness. She just had a tiny window of clear view from which she could watch her dumb, annoying village crumble. She could FEEL her stomach hitting buildings, and tearing them down with the sheer pressure of the fluid massed inside her.

And the pressure was enormous. If anyone punched a hole in her now, somehow, the result would be some sort of pressurized cum-laser with the ability to cut in two anything on its path.

Bit by bit, the feeling of crumbling masonry and of the relentless headbutting of Astolfo's swimmers around her inner walls, desperate to find something to impregnate, ANYTHING, brought her back to her senses.

She… kind of felt bad for them?
No sense feeling TOO bad, though. They were infinite. They were replaceable. They were BEING replaced. She could FEEL them being BORN, just behind her butt, resting on top of Astolfo's lucky balls.

For a very long moment, it was like experiencing the infinite. She was the universe, and the universe was her.
Wiggling her fingers, she stretched a hand towards Astolfo. She was too deformed to speak, and too off-center to use telepathy… but she wanted to grab his hand in hers.

Compared to everything else they were doing, the offer of a hand that Astolfo could just about make out might seem comical, absurd. But… well, Astolfo doesn't think so. He smiles, reaching out and intertwining her fingers with his own, savoring the simple, romantic gesture even in the face of depraved, obscene lovemaking on an inhuman scale. In this moment, there is nothing but Astolfo and Alradia, locked together in wild love.

Of course, savoring the romantic gesture doesn't make the obscene lovemaking any less pressing. He's still bucking and writhing against her, still letting out moans and coos of pleasure. His climax is building up beneath her, simultaneously swelling those balls with even more, even denser sperm and tightening them up in preparation… but there's one last thing the naughty boy wants to do, grabbing his sack with his free hand, somehow managing to hold both nuts (they really get a lot of mileage out of 'fitting into anything', huh?) and….

And pushing them inside Alradia, knotting her with his immense, bloated, cum filled sack. Why? To make extra sure she doesn't lose anything of the earth-shaking, mind-shattering orgasm rumbling and churning rapidly inside those supernatural orbs. It comes thick and fast, after all.

Very thick. Very fast.

Something that massive should take minutes, hours, maybe even days. Instead, Astolfo goes from zero to apocalypse in seconds. One moment, he's whispering wordlessly, trembling, needy, shaking inside her. The next? An ocean of sperm is slamming into her. It's not even able to be called cum or semen. It's not sperm immersed in liquid. It's a solid gel of trillions of massive, writhing, needy swimmers, with a tiny amount of liquid filling the gaps in between. If it weren't for those sperm moving, or the incredibly pressure behind them, it probably wouldn't even flow. Instead, the hyper-thick concoction explodes into Alradia's womb, every one of those massive tadpoles intent on somehow impregnating the succubus where its countless brethren have failed.

And it's not over with the first blast. OR the second, or the third. Astolfo screams in pleasure, dancing in and out of consciousness as sensation overloads his system again and again. His entire body is shaking, and his cock is rippling from how thick and fast it pumps out each load. It's pumping out so much that, though neither of them probably notice, it starts to somehow use itself up, first the balls and then the length shrinking down as it steadily empties itself of an impossible payload. Of course, it's hard to tell the shape of Astolfo's cock when there are the aforementioned oceans of solid sperm to separate it from Alradia's inner walls proper.

But hey, at least Alradia can probably be quite happy feeling her massively expanded self demolish the entire remainder of the village with the casual ease of a child knocking over some toys.

After the experience of being filled by dick to such a point that she actually feels the universe, Alradia's first conscious words are a confused uttering of "Wait, what are you-" before he somehow manages to jam, on top of that pillar, one, then two person-sized balls inside her as well.

Well, it's not like the situation can get any MORE ridiculous.

Except apparently it can. She genuinely thought that Astolfo WAS coming. That his enormous, river-carving flow of seed was actually his orgasm, and that it was just as unreasonably long and powerful as the rest of him.

Boy she was wrong.

The hit is sudden and terrifying. Alradia was already bloated to absurd proportions, but it was NOTHING compared to this. Her hand clenched around Astolfo's, squeezing it tight for comfort but also anchoring, as her misshapen shape just… blobbed over most of the village. It was like seeing a water lavender-colored balloon grow to envelop and smush a building-block city, except it was filled with something more like honey, and so had a lot more… shape and weight to it.

Finally, it was over. She had taken it. She had won.

That's when the SECOND blast came.

Alradia at this point can't even scream or say anything, or even gurgle. She's along for the ride.

By the end of it, in the middle of a post-apocalyptic, end-of-the-century-legend landscape dotted with rubble, one could see, from far away, a slightly squished, mauve sphere, like some sort of ominous, landscape-sized alien artifact or spaceship that had suddenly landed in the middle of Hell. A mile high, maybe six or seven in diameter. Slowly, laboriously decreasing in size. Sometimes quivering.

Getting much, much closer, this hypothetical traveler could manage to see the alien spaceship holding hands with a cute knight in a short skirt, lying next to her. From the hem of the skirt jut forth a good five feet of veiny cock.

Somehow, Astolfo's cock ended up outside of Alradia's sex, after his orgasm was FINALLY finished.

He doesn't seem to mind, resting contently next to his city-sized lover, his shaft still standing proud and tall (if merely absurdly tall instead of impossibly tall) even as he ignores it in favor of holding her hand.

There's a smile on his face. He doesn't say anything. Just him and her. And what's left of the village. And wherever Rabicano and the terrified succubi got off to.