Scales like Stars Pt. 11

"Any last words, mortal?" the demoness purred as she swung her chain up - wrapping it around her shoulders and bringing the hilt of her blade slapping into her palm as she lifted a blue foot up and planted it on Merton's chest, pinning him to the wall with shocking force.

"Yes."

The demoness turned at the voice behind her.

The orcess swung her staff like a cross between a doped up Babe Ruth genetically fused with John Cena. The impact literally caused the demoness' head to explode in a spray of black blood, which was followed up by a roar of black flames, which consumed her entire body save for the elongated chain, which dropped to the ground at Merton's feet.

"Don't play with your food, you chaotic fuckface," the orcess snarled.

In the sudden silence that fell after that, Merton slowly picked himself up, wincing at the pain that rushed through his thigh. The ground shuddered and the lights in the ceiling flickered. He looked up, then down at the orcess. She was beautiful - and none of those qualifying 'for an orc' bullshit thrown in there. She was beautiful because she was an orcess. Her cute little tusks, her broad nose, her powerful jaw, all of it was sculpted from flesh as emerald perfect as the massive head of the statue looming above her. Her breasts were easily the largest that Merton had ever seen on someone other than Relix, and her body was sculpted with the kind of muscle that would make an Olympiad jealous. Her robes were simple and pure black, with two side slits that went down to her hips, meaning that he could see the delicious hint of side-boob, easily most underrated and overlooked boob.

No, check that.

Under-boob. But side-boob was a close second.

Her legs were long and athletic to match the rest of her. The kind of legs that crush mortal heads between them and leave their now headless owners begging for another chance to eat her out.

Her eyes were haughty ...but she inclined her head. "Thank you," she said. "I am Priestess Fourth Class of the Xosh Warsphere Hatespite. My name is Ozge."

Merton smiled. "Merton. Merton Miles." He coughed. "So, uh, truce?"

"Truce," Ozge said, nodding.

The two of them turned back. The demons who had been attacking were dead. Unfortunately, so were the kobolds. They had fallen to the last wave, and had taken the last demons out before their own bodies had given up the ghost. Considering that one was missing two legs and another half their head, Merton wasn't sure if he was impressed or horrified. Looking at Ozge, he saw her shaking her head slightly.

"They died well," she said.

"As well as can be expected..." Merton shook his head. "Listen, Ozge, this whole Warsphere is being sucked into the Abyss."

"Is it now?" she asked, then gestured about herself at the stinking corruption and mounds of demonic corpses. "I didn't notice!"

Merton closed his eyes. "Trueche." He sighed. "We have to find my friend and get the fuck outta here before then."

"What friend of yours is on this ship?" Ozge asked, her brow furrowing. "According to the orders I received from the high priestess of Tiamat, you were on the kill on sight list."

"Why am I not currently being beaten to death, then?" Merton asked.

Ozge rolled her eyes. "Orders are orders, but a contract is a contract." She drew up her chin. "I am lawful evil, Merton Miles. I will absolutely turn you over to Emperor Xosh, given the chance. But until that moment, you saved my life. I owe you." She smirked, slightly, then reached out. Her fingers touched the inside of Merton's thigh and a glowing light flared up. His wound closed and Merton felt the pain immediately fade. He blinked and Ozge chuckled. "You have now been paid back exactly six out of fifty two points."

"...you know how many hit points I have?" Merton asked as she drew her hand back - her fingers pausing fractionally as they hovered near the curve of his cock as it lay against his balls.

But Ozge was already walking away. Rolling her hips.

***

The two of them made quick time, with Ozge to cast a spell that hastened their step and another spell that lighted their way and made most of the weaker demons recoil. And she was quite specific about that. Demons. Not devils.

"Devils have far more decorum," she said, sniffing.

"If you're lawful evil," Merton said, ducking under a bone extrusion that had taken up a big chunk of the ceiling. "Why don't you use your doomsday weapon to shunt enemies into Baator?"

"What, just clutter up our devil allies' living rooms and castles and lands?" Ozge asked, glaring at him. "Without even filling out the proper paperwork?"

Merton blinked and considered himself told. He was about to ask her another question when the two of them rounded the corner and Merton found himself facing Relix. His wife stood in a room, surrounded by demon corpses, holding her own psi-sword, and looking incredibly irritated. Behind her stood Julia, who was holding her plastic wand and looking quite cute and fuckable. Relix saw Merton and beamed.

"Me-"

Merton shot her in the head.

Relix fell backwards, shedding scales and bits of tail until she slapped onto the ground - a devastatingly beautiful woman with ruby red skin and curling horns. Her breasts were the platonic ideal of breasts - firm and perky and yet still jiggling with mature ripeness. She slowly reached up to rub the half-inch deep smoking crater the laser blast had burned into her forehead, then sat up. "What. The. FUCK!?" She screeched as Julia looked at her, then at Merton, then smiled.

Merton shot her in the head too.

A second succubi landed beside the first, clutching at her forehead. "Owowowowowo!"

"How did you know!?" Ozge whispered, sounding shocked.

'I didn't," Merton admitted. "I just know that a laser gun to the head just mildly annoys a dragon. I figure my wife would forgive me."

He had just enough time to reflect on how greatful he was that he didn't need to apologize for that when the succubi on the right leaped at him, claws gleaming in the ruddy red light of the hellfires that ringed the room. Ozge intercepted the beautiful, furious demoness with her patented 'swing my staff like I'm competing for the best baseball trophy, whatever that was called' method. The impact made Merton wince. The impact of the succubi on the far wall made him wince even more. They were evil creatures of chaotic lust, built around destroying relationships and people through manipulating the finest vice humanity had...but...

Still. Watching a pretty woman get put, head first, through two feet of adamant hull plating was not how he expected to spend his afternoon.

The other succubi screamed in fury and thrust out her palm. Merton reacted as the pulse of red light flew at him, bringing up his psi-sword. He swung it and hit the pulse. The psi-sword rang with the impact and the pulse hit the ceiling, bounced, hit the corner of the room, bounced, then slammed into Ozge as she readied her staff. The energy she had been building up went off into the floor and rebounded upwards to strike the succubi under the chin, sending her skidding out of the room with a clattering series of pangs, pinks, clunks and clanks.

"Ozge!" Merton knelt beside the cleric.

She panted. "Merton..." she whispered, her shoulders shaking. "In five seconds this lust spell is going to...ah...send me...wild and..." Her eyes unfocused and she crooned. "Fuck me..."

Merton blinked.

Then Ozge grabbed his shoulders and dragged him tight. Her mouth pressed to his and her tusks bumped against his lips. Merton, being a red blooded male, fought for about five seconds. Then he lapsed into the kiss, moaning as he pressed himself against Ozge, the adrenaline of the moment burning through him. His palms cupped her ass, finding it as athletic and sculpted and perfect as he had imagined. His fingers squeezed her through her robes and she ground herself against him. Then Merton dragged his mouth back, gasping heavily.

"W-Wait..." he said. "I have to save-"

Here, he had been about to announce why he had to not plow the orc. She was not in her right mind. He had to save his son, Brash.

Merton had forgotten one thing, though.

Ozge was not just a little stronger than him.

She was a lot stronger than him.

His back smashed into the ground as Ozge put her palms on his chest, shoving him down as she panted heavily, her breasts heaving against her robes, her nipples hard enough to slice through half the doors they had needed to hack into to get to this point. Her eyes flared and she growled. "Mouth. Open."

Merton opened his mouth to object. And Ozge dragged herself forward then planted her dark green pussy lips right onto his mouth. She was positively flowing with arousal, and she tasted as tangy and tart as a ripe fruit. Her pussy mashed against his mouth and Merton started to lick, desperately trying to pleasure her as her clit bumped against his nose, then her muff filled his nostrils. She was definitely not hairless. He closed his eyes, his cock achingly hard as he reached up to cup her green ass.

"Yessssssss!" Ozge groaned as she rocked herself on his face.

Merton's hands slipped from her ass to her belly, feeling her rock hard abs, then found her breasts. He fondled both emerald orbs, his fingers finding her nipples. Tweaking them brought forth an animalistic growl of pure pleasure from the priestess as she continued to grind herself against Merton's face. Merton was having a hard time breathing. All things considered, there were worse ways to go. Right?

Ozge clearly disagreed. She drew her sex off his mouth after a few more seconds. She panted heavily, then dragged herself forward again. Her palms slapped to the mutated deck of the warsphere and she arched her spine like a cat's. Her belly mashed to the floor, even as her ass thrust up into the air and her thighs spread wide. She dripped from her eager slit - and her voice was a quiet growl. She didn't even use words. She just communicated - with posture and with eyes that if Merton didn't satisfy her right fucking now, she would do something...drastic.

Merton's cock was achingly hard. He didn't need much more encouragement to scramble forward. He lined his cock up with her sex, his hands going to her shoulders. Her muscles strained underneath his fingers as she snarled out a wordless plea. He slammed into her. Slammed. He used every bit of biomorphically augmented strength he had and every inch of his long, thick dick. He practically felt himself bump up against her womb, that was how hard he thrust. Hilting himself in her green pussy felt like getting onto the back of a bull. Or, more accurately, getting on the back of a bull felt like barebacking an orcess, because Ozge immediately redefined the concept of an active lover. Her back arched and she bucked herself up against him. Merton had to slide an arm around her athletic belly, then grabbed onto her ankle length pony tail with his other hand. The fact that this single clump of hair was both the longest bit of hair he had ever touched ever and the only bit of hair on her otherwise bald head made its use all the more obvious.

Merton hauled back. Her muscular neck and shoulders tensed and he, despite having leverage and position, had a hard time yanking her head back far enough to look into her eyes from above. Her jaw was hanging open.

But her eyes were far from submissive.

"That..." she growled. "All. You. Fucking. Got?"

Merton almost collapsed like a cut marionette right then and there. Fighting his way to the center of the Warsphere was one thing, but satisfying this woman? Forget about it. Then he shook his head. No. No. He was Merton Miles. He had lain studious magitech engineers, willful space princesses who also happened to be dragons, and a girl who had, until fairly recently, been a man. He could handle fucking an orcess. He grabbed onto her hips - and growled.

"Not even close." He started to slam into her, grunting as his hips and her hips met with the fierce slap noises. His balls pounded against her belly and Ozge rolled her head back, her mostly bald pate shining with perspiration in the hellfire of the room. Her mouth opened and her tongue lolled out as she shuddered in pure pleasure. His balls started to ache and his hips started to bruise and still, Merton didn't give up. He kept up the ferocious pressure and used every trick he had to try and think of anything but the pleasure of her velvety, vice tight cunt.

Ozge did not make it easier.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh yes! Yes! Yes!" She cried out, her voice musical as she worked her hips in perfect time with his thrusting. Her fingers dug into the floor and her breasts cut perfect circles in the air. Her muscular limbs tensed as she shuddered in orgasmic pleasure - and Merton gave up on his pride. He wanted to get her off multiple times...but he simply couldn't hold up against the sensation of her pussy. He closed his eyes and shuddered hard as he came. And he came hard. His seed spilled into her, then rushed past his cock, starting to spill along her thighs. His cum pattered onto the ground and he sagged above her.

Ozge panted. "Acceptable," she said, sounding only slightly dazed.

"Dude!" Merton jerked his head up.

***

How long did a silence have to stretch between two people who had just fucked under the influence of a succubi granted lust curse before it became awkward? Merton figured that once they hit the three minute mark of silently walking through corridors, following the glinting strand of filament, they had definitely hit the 'uber awk' mark. He coughed, about to bring it up to Ozge - who was dressed once more in her robes...when she held up her hand.

"Shh..." She whispered. "Hear that?"

Merton's brow furrowed. He craned his head and perked up his ears and tried to hear anything over the low groaning and creaking of the Warsphere. But then he heard it. And his heart leaped. He started forward, sprinting past bone encrusted wall. His feet squelched as Ozge reached out for him - but Merton didn't care. He came to the corner, skidded around...and stopped dead. He was looking out into a room, easily the size of a good sized Starbucks. The floor was empty, save for bits of black obsidian that thrust out of flesh-like muscle. The walls were illuminated by glowing spotlights - bright white ones. They shone...on corpses.

There was Lisa. Her hands had been pinned to the walls by spikes and her guts had been cut out to drag on the floor.

There was Carlos - headless and crumpled up beside Trevor, who had been cut fully in half. Merton's Mom and his Dad were an almost unrecognizable mass of red tissue, save for their faces. And the centerpiece of it all was Merton himself. He was seated against a wall, his own body recreated perfectly, with a yawning slice along his throat. Next to him was the headless body of Relix, her skull sat in his own lap.

In the center of this horrifying tableaux was a small, tightly coiled body of black scale and wings, which had been clamped tight around himself. The tiny dragon was curled up beside a few tiny copper coins, a single aluminum fork, and a red plastic drinking cup. And whispering from corpses was a cascade of voices - all of their voices.

"You let us die..."

"You're a very bad dragon..."

"I hate you..."

"Why did you fail us, Brash?"

"No one likes you..."

"You-"

Merton screamed. It was a sound he had never made before in his life, and a sound he thought he'd never make again. He charged forward and, without thinking, he swung his psi-sword out at the corpse of Lisa. The blade made contact and the corpse poofed away into smoke. He swung again and his own body and Relix's body vanished as well. He shouted again and again, bellow after bellow as he dissipated body after body, until the room was empty of the corpses and the whispers were gone - lost in the echos of his shouting.

"Merton!" Ozge shouted.

Merton swung around and saw a form emerging from the darkness. It was a hideous demon - elongated limbs that looked as if they had been stretched out on a rack, with bluish skin that shone like rubber. It had the pot-belly of a starved baby, and the bald head of a grey alien, with a smattering of red eyes. It snarled and gurgled in Abyssal, charging at him with a spear of black metal in one hand. Merton stepped up and slashed at it with every bit of furious strength he had.

The demon's head went flying.

As it thumped to the ground with a blub blub blub of slowly flowing blood, Merton stepped back, his psi-sword vanishing in a sizzle of sparks. He knelt down and pulled Brash into his arms. The small dragon was still shivering, as if he was freezing, and he didn't respond as Brash petted his spine gently. His fingers caressed every ridge of Brash's back, and he whispered soft words. "Shh, shh, it's okay, it wasn't real, it's okay..." Brash shuddered convulsively, then suddenly grew to his full size. It took Merton a few seconds to realize he was now being coiled around by a snake-like body nearly the length of a school bus. His arms stuck above his head and his ribs creaked as Brash squeezed him, then started to nose at his hair.

"M-Merton?" Brash whispered.

"Too tight!" Merton squeaked.

"Who is that?" Ozge asked.

Brash shrank down to his smallest, most kittenish size and Merton clung to him, enfolding him in his arms and his palms. He petted him gently, then looked up at Ozge. He smiled, slowly. "T-This is Brash. He is the-"

"He is...a traitor."

A cold...sneering...imperious voice spoke from the darkness. Merton turned around. The same fury he had felt before had cooled into the killing radiance of a neutron star. The figure stepping from the darkness was clearly a dragon. Armor plating from a B-suit wreathed his body, but his head had been revealed by the sloughing back of the armor's skin and bone. Blue scales glittered, but nothing shone quite like the gleaming iron circlet that sat around the horns of the dragon who would be Emperor.

Emperor Xosh stood there, a shrike catapult extended from his left arm. Merton continued to pet Brash slowly.

"A disappointment," Xosh continued. "A pathetic, sniveling piece of dung. I spit on his every ancestor. Not that he'll have any. You came here, Lord Castrovel, to die. And the fact I can rob that little cunt of a princess of happiness for the rest of her life almost makes this moment worth it." His nose flared and static sparkled around his teeth as his tongue flicked the air. Merton, though, was busy checking the body over. He saw dozens of still bleeding cuts on the B-suit, as well as several smoking exhaust ports that the enslaved, genetically engineered dragon had grown to vent waste heat.

"How much ammo do you have left, Xoshy?" Merton said, slowly reaching back. He held Brash out to Ozge, who took him with the expression of utter confusion that came when a baby was handed off to someone who had never touched one in their lives.

Xosh's eyes flared. "Enough."

Merton shook his head slowly. "And by the way. My name actually isn't Lord Castrovel. I didn't take her name. She didn't take mine. I'm Merton Miles of California. Bester of House Thresh, master of hacks, rules lawyer and alignment arbiter. I am the delver in the Fortress of Regrets, planeswalker and planes strider. I count among my allies the Night City and the United Nations of Earth. I've seen Presidents deposed and godlike dragons rendered speechless. I have walked the streets of Atlantis and destroyed warspheres. I am dragon tamer and dragon slayer and, yes, dragon layer." He lifted up his arm and his psi-sword flared to life as he grinned, fiercely.