Barratt of the Bordeli Forest stormed along the path of some horrid ocean bay. He heard it was called the Cunt and he could see that from the city at the end of the bay and the two sides that lead to a sheltered opening at the base. It would have been amusing if he hadn't been traveling for the last few months in furious anger.
In his hand, he carried the head of the freshly decapitated Pieter and the shrunken one of Klaus, the mayor of the Nissar, one of the villages he protected. Blood trailed behind him, marking his path, but he didn't care.
He could smell the warriors rushing behind him. They had attacked three times now and he fought each one off without breaking a sweat. Electricity coursed along his furry arms and body. More of it sparkled along the barbs of his immense, misshapen cock that dangled between his legs. He was naked, but clothes were for weak humans that needed monsters to protect them.
He could smell his Omelas. Her cunt juices were in the air though the smell was at least a year old. But, he would find her. He would find her and bring her back after slaughtering whatever remained of her family. He promised her parents that if they ran, he would hunt them down, rape, and then kill them. And Barratt kept his promises when he had to wait nineteen years for his payment.
He reached an outcropping of the rock and continued along. But only a few meters beyond it, the smell faded. Turning around, he padded to the outcropping and looked down.
The smell of his cunt was down there but he couldn't see how she survived. It was a cliff that ended in rocks that were hammered by the ocean. There was no shelter, no scent. It was the smell of year old pussy juice, not a fresh cunt of his Omelas.
A growl shook in his chest and he pulled back his lips. He was going to kill someone. Turning slowly, he regarded the hundred men and women who followed him. They were prepared for battle, but they were obviously terrified of him.
He snarled at them. Somehow, they were responsible for his cunt's death and he would be damned if he wasn't going to take his revenge out on the weak humans that cowered in this city. They ruined his Omelas and it would be decades before he could have another one capable of taking his misshapen cock and electricity without dying instantly.
One of the guards, a blond with scars covering his body, stepped up. He carried his sword with his left hand. His right arm ended at the wrist. “Stop!”
Barratt growled, “Where is my cunt?”
“Who are you?”
“I am Barratt Bordeli, protector of the Ring Villages.”
The blond's sword wavered but didn't drop. “I am Skein of the Franome Royal Army. And I demand—”
“Where is my cunt!” bellowed Barratt.
“—that you drop the heads—”
Barratt summoned electricity into his free hand. It coursed along his body, tickling his cock into half-mast, before launching itself from his palm.
Skein's eyes grew wide, but then he yelled out a word of power and the electricity surged into his sword. It was a lighting spell, a relatively rare power. The warrior jammed his sword into the ground and Barratt's lighting bled away.
Barratt chuckled and shook his head. “You won't win this fight, human. I want my cunt and I want it now. Or I'm going to slaughter every man, woman, and child until I find her and her parents.” He lifted the two heads up to make his point.
Skein paled. “H-How do you know Pieter?”
Barratt did a double take. “You know this skull?”
“Yes, it's…” Skein gulped. “Yes.”
“Where is the cunt?”
Skein tightened his grip and set his jaw. “She's gone.”
“Wrong answer!”
Lightning arched from the clouds above him, burning the ground as he gathered it and threw it at Skein. The bolt arced across the air, scorching it.
Skein didn't have time to even belt out a word of power.
The lighting struck a thick tentacle. The flesh melted the slime that covered it.
Barratt's hair stood up on ends and he summoned the power into a shield of lighting.
Another tentacle, as thick as a tree, slammed into the shield from behind him. The slime and flesh melting off as it tried to coil around his destructive spell.
Barratt snarled and spun around, summoning more power to him as he prepared for battle against the abyssal that rose out of the ocean. It was an otherworldly creature, just like himself, but far larger. He could feel the mass around him, the electricity of movement coursing through kilometers of tentacles, tendrils, and a swollen weight that had to be its body.
He dropped the heads and used both hands to summon his power. It would be a bloody fight and he wasn't sure which one would win.
(Mosar!)
Barratt snarled. “Barratt of Bordeli.”
(Protect.)
“I want my cunt!”
An arrow slammed into Barratt's head, the head shattering against his skull. He lifted a hand without looking and sent a bolt of lighting coursing down the path of the arrow. There was a scream as people were cooked alive by his power.
(Protect!) The tentacles snapped around as more rose out of the water. There were at least a dozen, each one wider than him.
Barratt didn't care. “Where is my cunt! My Omelas!”
A gasp ripped through the crowd. He could smell their fear and terror, urine and shit. They were too weak to fight him, only Mosar was a threat.
A tentacle rose up, a black eye rotating to focus on him.
Barratt kept his senses open, not willing to let his attention be drawn to one point. Mosar was dangerous and they both knew it.
(Take. Claim. Owned. Bred.)
Fury surged through Barratt. He could feel the change starting to take place, his knees starting to buckle in preparing to dropping to all fours. Horns burst out of his head, the ache filling his body as electricity crackled along them. “You took my Omelas! My cunt!?”
(She awoken.)
“That was mine! Mine! I made her. I shaped her. My cunt!”
(Peace.)
“No fucking peace. Where is my fuck hole!?”
Another tentacle rose up. This was the thickest one yet. Sheets of slime poured down the side of it as it split open, blossoming into hundreds of tendrils. He spotted a shape inside it and focused on it, a snarl filing him as the scent of his Omelas filled the air.
She was just as beautiful as he shaped her: rounded ass ready to be raped, large tits to tear at, curly black hair that he wanted to grab, and full lips begging to choke on his cock.
But she was ruined. Her rounded buttocks had a tentacle sticking out from it, the long coil disappearing back out of sight. Another thicker tendril had been jammed between her beautiful lips. It didn't come out and he assumed that it was all the way through her.
Her breasts, large enough for his massive hands, were engulfed by two tendrils that were sucking. Squirts of milk came with every suck, the ripples of liquid filling countless sacks along their length.
And her pussy. Impaled by a thick mass, he could see that it bulged her pussy underneath the swollen mound of her stomach. Her belly glowed with hundreds of shapes, eggs from the electricity inside them, that stuffed her womb to its limits.
The young body was wracked by coughing, a surge of something but no sound came out of her impaled throat.
Anger slashed through Barratt. Snarling and panting, he glared at the black eye. “You ruined my cunt. For eighteen years, I shaped her to be mine and you stole her.”
(We victim to our nature.)
“That was mine.”
(Peace.)
“I will kill you and every person in this city that you fucking protect—”
(You take my Omelas. Peace,) came the sharp mental thought.
Barratt stopped and closed his mouth. Electricity crackled along his body as he regarded his ruined Omelas.
(There are six years until she ready, but she can breed.)
Barratt snorted.
(Breed to you, make young of Barratt.)
“No human cunt can handle my cock.”
(Breed to you, make young of Barratt,) repeated the abyssal.
Barratt hesitated. His need to rape was driven by the urge to breed, but no human could handle his cock or strength. It was the reason he shaped his Omelas, to make her take his lusts.
After a second, he grumbled. “Show me.”
“No!” yelled Skein.
Barratt lifted his hand to electrocute him.
Skein stepped back.
Barratt returned his attention to Mosar. “Where is your cunt?”
(With the mother of yours.)
At the memory of the large-breasted blonde woman, Barratt snarled. He promised her that if she fled, he would hunt her down, rape, and kill her. And she was still alive.
A trio of tentacles burst out of the water at the end of the bay, a kilometer away. They arched in the sky and came down, two from one location and a third much further away. Barratt watched impatiently as they lifted up holding three screaming people and carried them over, easily covering a kilometer in a matter of seconds.
Mosar deposited Merci, Jed, and a young girl on the ground between Barratt and the cliff.
Merci was just as Barratt remembered. Beautiful, but in a human way. When she looked at him, her eyes grew wide and she lost control of her bladder. “No, no, no! No!” she screamed. Scrambling to her feet, she sprinted toward the cliff.
Barratt started forward, but the tendrils move faster. Moving with speed that even Barratt couldn't focus on, they grabbed Merci by the throat and waist. Before it had completely coiled around her, they picked her off the ground and held her aloft.
The boy scrambled to his feet but stood his ground. He was younger than Merci, maybe a year or so before he was past the age of Consent. He shook as he stood there, eyes wide and the stench of fear strong around him. He was handsome, but not much else.
Barratt waved his hand to the side.
Jed didn't move but tendrils reached down and picked him up. They moved the young man to the side and Barratt got his first look at Mosar's Omelas.
She was stunningly beautiful. With wide hips and full lips. Sturdier than Barratt preferred, she nonetheless also had a body that begged to be fucked. Large breasts were barely obscured by the dress she wore. It was obscene on a twelve year old, but in six years, she would be the second best fuck that Barratt would have ever had. He smiled at the first, the last one to die on his cock, Rin.
His cock stirred at his memories. He would rape the sea creature's Omelas until she died.
A few meters away, a ripple of power intruded on his senses. It was different than anything he had felt before, a sweetness and light of a divine power. He glanced to the side to see a naked girl standing by the cliff. Covered in blood and glaring at him with insane eyes, she had a Presence that forced his attention toward her.
None of the humans seemed to see her, but Mosar pulled its tendrils away from the girl.
The girl clenched her tiny fists and the air rippled around her, the ground crumbling and the very fabric of reality twisting in her grip.
It was Consent.
Fear, true fear, pooled in Barratt's gut. No one fucked with Consent, not since she appeared thirty years ago and slaughtered an entire city because of one child's cries.
Barratt turned his head to her. “I will not touch her until she is ready. I waited years for the last one, I can wait six more.”
Consent said nothing. She relaxed her grip and reality slipped back into place.
The human warriors looked at the same spot, confusion on their face.
“I promise. For six years, I will not having this girl,” he pointed to the younger Omelas.
Consent silently snarled, her eyes insane with a wild glow.
And then she was gone.
Barratt let out his breath with a rush. He realized how close he came to dying himself as he turned back to the younger Omelas. She was alluring and beautiful, fuckable in every way. He could wait. He didn't really have a choice.
His gaze shifted to Merci. The older woman was staring at her daughter, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her dress was ruined and sobs wracked her body. He glanced at Jed. The muscular man wasn't to his liking, but Barratt had already promised Merci that he would rape and kill her entire family. He broke that promise with Pieter though it wasn't too late for a skull fuck, but that didn't make her son exempt.
It would be a painful six years. And if Merci and Jed died, he would just take his price on the Ring Villages for letting her escape.
Finally, Barratt looked at his Omelas. The perfect cunt for his cock, shaped by hundreds of years of mastering his spells. She was everything he wanted, needed, and craved.
He sighed. “Fuck. Deal, I take your cunt.”
“And me,” said Skein.
Barratt looked at him with surprise. “What?”
“Take me with you. I will… I will do what I can.”
Barratt turned to the shaking man. He was terrified but standing up. Electricity ran along his limbs but Barratt was impressed that he managed to stand up to an abyssal. “If I take you, then you'll be mine. When the mother and brother die on my cock, will you take their place?”
The fear spiked.
Merci let out a cry and sobbed.
“Y-Yes.”
Barratt turned back to Mosar. “A deal. The three humans and the Omelas. And I don't kill every man, woman, and child in this city.”
(You not win.)
Barratt chuckled, a growl in his throat. “Neither will you.”
(Deal. Peace.)
The tendrils dropped Merci and Jed. Both collapsed to the ground in tears, with Merci wailing with one hand outstretched toward her daughter.
Barratt watched as Mosar sealed the older Omelas back in the tentacle and pulled it down. He sighed and turned away. She was already ruined for him.
He turned to Skein. “Bind the mother, she will run knowing her fate. The boy will too.”
Face pale, Skein nodded. He turned to the nearest guard. “Arrest them, please. For threatening the city with,” he glanced back at Barratt, “an demonic—”
“Abyssal,” corrected Barratt.
“—abyssal creature. We are leaving… now, I guess.” The fear was still there, but Skein managed to keep his voice from cracking. “Put my life in order… tell them I died, it would be easier.”
“And the truth,” growled Barratt.
In the bay, Mosar disappeared back under the water as if he wasn't ever there.
Barratt looked down at the Omelas who stood there, unafraid and alluring. “Six years.”
“And then,” she said in a quiet voice, “you are going to rape and kill me.”
Barratt nodded.
The girl stepped toward him and held up her hand, like a child holding the hands with her parents. Surprised, Barratt took it, marveling at how small it was.
“I'll be ready then.”