It was evening time, and everyone in the ducal home was preparing for the party. By now, the whole household knew that Lucifer was throwing a celebration tonight for some special reason. The town of Westirifer Duchy buzzed with joy and excitement. People dressed in their finest new clothes streamed into the open field in front of the duchy, gathering in droves. As dusk turned to night, more than 50,000 souls had assembled, their faces lit by torches and magical lights, anticipation thick in the air like a storm about to break.
Then, the main gate of the duchy swung open, and out stepped Grand Duchess Mia Velmora and Duchess Amelia Velmora, radiant in their elegant gowns that hugged their curves like a promise of sin. Accompanying them were Ruby, Westeria, Jason, and others from the inner circle, all exuding the casual confidence of a free-use world where bodies and pleasures were shared without jealousy.
Once they emerged, Edmund and Allen quickly arranged chairs for the ducal family. Moments after the ducal household settled, Queen Veronica, King Ignis, and Minister Jasper arrived from Lustbound Heaven. Mia and Amelia gestured graciously for them to take their seats among the honored guests.
Mia addressed the massive crowd, her voice carrying like a sultry whisper amplified by magic. "My dear citizens of Westirifer... this party tonight is a gift from Lucifer to all of you. As you all know, just a few days ago, Lucifer wiped out the entire Asher family. And together, we and you finished off the last remnants. But today is even more special than that."
"We have one final Asher left... and because of this one person, the Asher family ruled over you all for so many years, tormenting and oppressing you."
"And this individual... Royals... I mean, Queen Veronica from Lustbound Heaven and her group have gifted her to Lucifer as a token, and Lucifer wants to share this gift with all of you."
Mia was still speaking when Lucifer appeared from behind, wrapping his arms around her in a possessive hug. He planted a sweet, lingering peck on her cheek, his lips brushing her skin with a teasing warmth that made her shiver slightly. "Citizens... You don't need to listen to Mommy's long speeches. Let me tell you straight up."
"Last time, we and you together killed the final 14 Ashers, but one survived. And that last person... is Angelina Asher, right?"
"As you all know, after I exterminated the Ashers... I gifted Angelina Asher—who happens to be the fourth mother of our simple-minded Lustbound Heaven King, Ignis Lustbound, sitting right here—the mutilated body parts of her Xavier and company."
"So... in return for that gift..." Lucifer pointed at Veronica with a wicked grin, "Our sexy and hot Queen Veronica Lustbound—who, just a short while ago, was getting fucked like a wild animal by Minister Jasper and King Ignis—has given me this present. And I want to share it with all of you."
"And I know you're not satisfied with the last chance... and one Angelina isn't enough for you. That's why I've come up with a plan."
"I figure there are 40-50 thousand people in this ground right now... So, you'll all come one by one... and unleash all your anger on this single Angelina Asher. And every time one of you comes and hurts her... I'll heal her with holy magic. Then someone else comes and hurts her... and I'll heal her again. This way, I won't let her die until every last one of you has had your revenge."
"And as each person's revenge is complete... they can enjoy the party. Feast on the delicious dishes prepared here, and take some home for those who couldn't join. So, how does my plan sound?"
Lucifer delivered this horrifying speech with a casual laugh, his tone relaxed and almost playful, as if discussing a game. On the other side, Veronica's cheeks flushed crimson with shame as she heard him call her hot and sexy... But Ignis... Ignis was desperately trying to control his rage.
Lucifer wasn't giving him an ounce of respect, insulting him on top of it all... and why shouldn't he? Ignis had deliberately provoked him so many times before.
As soon as Lucifer finished speaking, a hush fell over the entire ground.
Then, after a moment, voices erupted from the crowd...
"Sir Lucifer... You are our hero!"
"Sir Lucifer... Please marry me... I want to be with you always!"
"Sir Lucifer, you are our savior... You are the best we could ever deserve!"
"Sir Lucifer..."
"Hero Lucifer..."
"My husband..."
The whole crowd screamed in ecstasy. To them, Lucifer was no less than a messiah.
Then, a voice cut through the crowd: "Sir Lucifer... Where is Angelina Asher...?"
"Sir, please give me the first chance... The Ashers raped my daughter, mother, wife, sister, and even me... Not once, but over and over. Because of their atrocities... my daughter and sister are dead... Sir, please... You promised you won't let Angelina die until I'm satisfied."
Lucifer looked at him and said, "Friend... I didn't just promise you... I promised the whole town. And yes, I won't let her die... until the fire inside all of you is quenched."
"Now, all those who want revenge on the Ashers' last living member... line up and come forward."
Lucifer signaled to the two Viper guards standing behind him, and they bowed their heads before hurrying off.
In the meantime, a 25-26-year-old young man looked at Lucifer and said, "Sir Lucifer... We're coming... But where the fuck is that bitch whore Angelina Asher?"
Lucifer glanced at the lad and chuckled, "Big brother... Forgive me, but while talking to all of you, I forgot to bring her out. My guards have gone to fetch her."
Hearing Lucifer's words, the entire crowd burst into laughter.
Then, in no time, four guards arrived. One carried a chair, which he placed in front of Lucifer.
Another held a thick rope.
And the last two guards were dragging a woman...
She had white hair... black eyes... and pink lips smeared with purple lipstick. Wrinkles creased her face... and why wouldn't they? She was over 170 years old.
And 170 years here was more than half the lifespan of a normal human.
She was completely naked, her full body exposed—sagging breasts, wrinkled skin, and a bush of gray pubic hair on display for the massive crowd. Her mouth was gagged. The guards hauled her roughly and forced her onto the chair, binding her tightly with the rope.
Lucifer approached and yanked the gag from her mouth in one swift motion. Then, turning to Ignis with a wink, he mocked, "Your Royal Majesty, King Ignis of Lustbound Heaven Kingdom... Take a good look, make sure I didn't bring the wrong gift."
Lucifer's taunting words pierced Ignis's heart like a dagger, and in a fury, Ignis exploded, "Lucifer... You're crossing the line... We came here to make friends with you, and... this is how you repay us?"
Lucifer looked at him indifferently and said, "You came for friendship... and didn't bring a gift?"
"You came for friendship, but since morning, you've been acting so self-important that you don't even care who's standing in front of you?"
"And what makes you so special that I'd even want to be your friend?
Do you have power? -------- No.
Do you have brains? ------ Yes, but only in your dick.
Do you have authority? ------- No, you're just a puppet."
Hearing Lucifer's words, the entire Westirifer crowd roared with laughter at King Ignis.
Ignis glared at Lucifer and said, "Lucifer... Do you have power? ---- Yes, but only over yourself... What do you think... after insulting me like this, your Westirifer will grow in peace? No, I'll have it completely destroyed."
Hearing Ignis's threat, Lucifer replied, "King Ignis... That's why I called you brainless... At least look around and see where you are before speaking. But since you've said it now..."
"Lovertia."
As soon as Lucifer called Lovertia, she appeared at his side instantly.
Lucifer stroked her hair lovingly and said, "Tia... Bring Mephis here."
As soon as Mia and Amelia heard the name Mephis from Lucifer's mouth, they immediately understood what was about to happen to Ignis.
Following Lucifer's command, Lovertia went to fetch Mephis.
After that, Lucifer called Mara.
"Mara."
Mara came right away, climbing into Lucifer's lap and kissing his cheeks. "Yes, Daddy."
Lucifer returned the loving kiss on her cheeks, caressing her hair, and said, "Mara... Bring a table... Along with a thick rope... And pointing at Ignis, he added... Mara, see that... that man? He came to my home and threatened me. So, we have to show some hospitality... With the rope you bring... strip him naked and tie him to the table."
As soon as Lucifer said this, Veronica couldn't hold back anymore and exclaimed, "Sir Lucifer, what you're about to do to the fourth mother... that I can understand... But Ignis... What has Ignis done to deserve death?"
Lucifer heard this and sauntered over to Veronica, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear in a seductive manner, his fingers lingering on her skin. "Lady Veronica, I don't like it when someone comes to my own home and threatens me... And I'm not going to kill Ignis... Just give him a little punishment and let him go."
With that said, before Ignis could utter a word, Mara yanked off his royal clothes, ripping them to shreds, exposing his naked body—his flaccid cock dangling in humiliation—and flipped him belly-down on the table, binding him tightly with the rope... not far from Angelina.
While all this was happening, the first man reached Angelina and was about to settle his score when Lucifer said, "Good sir, just wait 2 minutes..."
By then, Tia arrived with Mephis.
Lucifer signaled Tia and Mara to step back and said to Mephis in a mocking tone, "Mephis... I told you to give me either a colt or a foal... But you haven't even raided Opaline or Ysoria once yet."
"I think... after fucking Travis and Cedywin, you've developed a taste for human ass..." Pointing at Ignis, he added, "So, here you go... Fuck him... And don't stop until I've finished my work here."
Hearing Lucifer's words, Mephis let out a high neigh... "Nnneeehheeehhheee..."
Lucifer said, "Oh, I get it, you didn't like their asses... No problem, this is a royal ass... You'll definitely enjoy fucking it."
Mephis gave in with a squeal... "Nnhhgggrr..."
And then he got to work. Mephis, the massive black stallion with a coat glistening under the torchlight, reared up slightly, his powerful forelimbs planting firmly on the edges of the table for leverage, hooves scraping against the wood with a sharp clack. His equine cock— an enormous, veined monstrosity over two feet long and as thick as a man's forearm at the base, tapering to a flared, blunt head slick with natural lubricant—throbbed menacingly in the air, veins pulsing like ropes under the mottled pink-and-black skin. Ignis, bound belly-down with his legs spread and ass exposed, could only thrash futilely against the ropes as Mephis positioned himself, the hot breath from the horse's nostrils puffing against his back.
With no preparation or mercy, Mephis lunged forward in a primal, instinctive thrust, the flared head of his cock slamming against Ignis's unprepared asshole like a battering ram. The tight ring of muscle resisted for a split second before tearing open violently under the immense pressure, the dry friction causing immediate lacerations as the shaft forced its way in—inch by brutal inch—stretching the king's virgin passage beyond its limits. Blood immediately welled up, mixing with the horse's pre-cum to create a slick, gruesome lubricant that did little to ease the invasion. Mephis didn't pause; he drove deeper with short, powerful bucks of his hips, each one burying more of his length, the medial ring—a thick, ridged bulge halfway down the shaft—popping past the ruined sphincter with a wet, audible squelch that made Ignis's body jolt.
Ignis's eyes bulged wide in shock, his face contorting into a mask of pure torment as the initial penetration sent shockwaves of agony ripping through his core. "Aaaarrrggghhhh! It—it's splitting me open! Nnngghhh—too big—ripping my insides! Hhhhuuurrrrgh… gods, no—pull out—burning like fire!" His voice shattered into ragged, guttural screams, each word choked out between gasps as Mephis began a relentless rhythm: slow, deep withdrawals that dragged the veined length back along raw, abraded walls—causing fresh tears and friction burns—followed by savage forward slams that hammered against Ignis's prostate and deeper organs, bruising them with every impact. The horse's heavy balls swung forward with each thrust, slapping wetly against Ignis's thighs in obscene, rhythmic thuds, while blood and fluids dripped steadily onto the table, pooling beneath him.
Mephis neighed triumphantly, his muscles rippling as he accelerated, hips pistoning with animalistic force—thrusts coming faster now, each one bottoming out with a gut-punching depth that displaced Ignis's internals, making his abdomen bulge visibly from the intrusion. Ignis convulsed uncontrollably, his body seizing in futile attempts to expel the invader, but the ropes held him firm. His screams devolved into broken, animalistic howls: "Gggghhhhaaaa…! Deeper—tearing my guts—aaaaiiiieee! No—can't take it—my ass—shredded—! Kkkkhhh—hhhrrrkkk—blood—everywhere—stop!" Tears streamed down his face, mixing with sweat and snot, his cock limp and twitching uselessly from the overwhelming pain, no hint of arousal—just pure, violating torment that made his vision blur and his stomach heave with nausea. Lucifer, watching with a smirk, shoved Angelina's discarded gag into Ignis's mouth mid-scream, muffling the cries into desperate, choking gurgles and whimpers, his body shaking violently as Mephis continued the merciless ramming, the table creaking under the assault.
All this happened so systematically and quickly that Veronica didn't understand what Lucifer intended at first, and by the time she did, it was too late.
Veronica jumped from her chair, about to save Ignis, when Amelia said from the side, "Lady Veronica... King Ignis's actions were leading straight to this outcome... And if you want to take his place under Mephis, that's fine... Lucifer doesn't discriminate between boys and girls."
Hearing Amelia's words, Veronica froze in place and watched as Mephis ravaged Ignis's ass... Lucifer had now stuffed Angelina's gag into Ignis's mouth, ensuring not a single clear sound escaped beyond muffled, animalistic whimpers of torment.
On the other side, at Lucifer's signal, the people began torturing Angelina one by one, each unleashing years of pent-up rage in brutal, methodical ways that echoed the Ashers' own crimes of rape, oppression, and violation. The crowd formed a long, snaking line, tools and improvised weapons in hand—knives, hammers, hot irons from nearby forges, barbed whips, vials of acid, pliers, saws, even alchemical concoctions that amplified pain or caused hallucinatory horrors—passing them forward as needed. Angelina's body, bound naked to the chair, became a living effigy of suffering, her wrinkled skin exposed and vulnerable under the torchlight, every orifice and inch a target for the duchy's unbridled fury.
The first man, the one whose family had been destroyed, stepped up with a barbed whip coated in a caustic paste of salt, vinegar, and ground glass shards, its thorns glinting cruelly. He lashed it across her back and chest in a frenzy, the barbs embedding deep into flesh with wet, ripping sounds, flaying long strips of skin away in bloody, jagged ribbons that dangled and tore further with each strike, the glass shards grinding into exposed muscle like sandpaper on raw nerves. Blood sprayed in violent arcs, soaking the ground and splattering nearby onlookers. Angelina's scream pierced the night like a banshee's wail: "Aaaarrrghhh…! My skin—shredding alive—glass eating in! Hhhhuuurrrrgh… gods, the grind—it's pulverizing me! Stop—mercy—!" Her body arched in futile spasms, muscles seizing as raw nerves fired endless, electric agony, convulsions making her chair rattle. Lucifer watched impassively, then waved a hand—holy magic knit the wounds closed, flesh regenerating with a faint, sickly glow and a burning itch that left her hyperventilating, her eyes bulging with terror for the inevitable next.
A woman followed, her eyes blazing with hate for the children the Ashers had violated. She heated a cluster of branding irons until they glowed white-hot, then pressed them simultaneously into Angelina's thighs, arms, and abdomen, twisting and grinding them deeper in a slow, deliberate rotation, the sizzle of searing flesh filling the air with acrid smoke and the stench of charred meat mixed with melting fat. She held them there, drilling them into bone as blisters exploded, tissue carbonized, and underlying muscles cooked and contracted in spasms. Angelina convulsed violently, her scream a raw, shattered howl: "Gggghhhhaaaa…! Inferno—boring into bones—melting everything! Aaaaiiiieee! No—pull them out—my body—liquefying alive—!" Vomit spewed from her mouth in acidic bursts from the shock, her limbs smoking, but Lucifer's magic healed her moments later, the skin smoothing over seamlessly, though phantom flames raged in her nerves, making her twitch and sob uncontrollably.
Next came a burly farmer, pliers, hammer, and a bone saw in hand, grabbing her bound hands and feet. He first yanked out each fingernail and toenail with the pliers—slow, wrenching pulls that tore the beds away with bloody, popping rips—then smashed the exposed digits one by one with the hammer, bones splintering into razor-sharp fragments that punctured through skin from within, before sawing through the mangled limbs at the wrists and ankles with jagged, back-and-forth strokes that ground against bone in screeching vibrations. "This for my kin you let them butcher!" he snarled. Angelina's howls escalated into deranged hysteria: "Aaaah! Nails—ripping roots out—don't! NNNGGHHH—digits pulverized—shards stabbing inward! Ggggaaaahhh—sawing—bone grinding—AAAAARRRGH! Limbs—severed—agony exploding!" Blood fountained in pulses, her stumps twitching, but Lucifer's magic reformed them, bones fusing back with grinding, nauseating snaps and pops, forcing her to relive the mutilation's vulnerability.
A group of elders approached together, their turns shared in grim solidarity. One forced a funnel into her mouth, pouring a vial of concentrated alchemical acid down her throat and into her orifices below, the corrosive liquid etching deep, fizzing channels through her esophagus, stomach, and internals, dissolving layers of tissue in slow, excruciating erosion that exposed quivering organs and caused internal hemorrhaging, smoke rising from her mouth and crotch as it ate inward toward vital arteries. "Hhhhuuurrrkkk—acid—corroding my guts—flesh liquefying inside! Aaaahhh—gods—stop the dissolution—it's hollowing me out—!" she choked, body jerking as the acid bubbled through perforations, her screams turning to gurgling, blood-flecked froth. Another performed a shallow vivisection with a hooked blade, slicing open her torso in a Y-incision like a coroner's cut, peeling back flaps of skin and muscle to expose and prod at pulsing organs—heart racing visibly, lungs heaving—before sewing them back with barbed wire that tore anew with every breath. "Incision—AAAIIIEEEEE! Opened alive—organs exposed—prodding my heart—! Kkkkhhh—hhhrrrkkk—wire ripping—mercy—no more dissection!"
Younger victims followed: A teenage survivor clamped industrial vise-grips onto her ears, nose, lips, and genitals, twisting and crushing cartilage and sensitive flesh with slow, ratcheting turns until they mangled and tore free in bloody, pulpy chunks, blood cascading down her body in sheets. "Gggghhh—vise—pulverizing—my parts shredding off—nnngghhh—can't endure—!" An enraged mother drilled long, rusty augers through her knees, elbows, and spine with hand-cranked force, the metal boring through joints and vertebrae in grinding spirals, splintering bone and severing nerves in explosive cracks that left her partially paralyzed mid-torture. "My elders you eviscerated—now bore through!" Angelina's bellows devolved into primal, shattered roars: "HHHUUURRRKKK—drilling—bones exploding inward—aaaaahhhh! Nerves severed—paralyzed in fire—kill me—everything shattering!"
The brutality spiraled into abyssal extremes as the line progressed: A blacksmith used white-hot tongs to pinch, stretch, and tear chunks of flesh from her thighs, breasts, and face, pulling until sinew and tendons snapped like over taut strings, leaving gaping, cauterized craters that oozed plasma; another strapped a cage of frenzied, enchanted rats—infused with pain-amplifying venom—to her abdomen and groin, the rodents burrowing tunnels into her flesh, gnawing through muscle and into cavities in a blood-soaked frenzy, their bites injecting fire-like toxins that made veins bulge and burst. "Rats—tunneling inside—Gggghhhhaaaa…! Venom burning veins—aaaaiiiieee! No—gods—devouring organs alive—!" Limbs were disarticulated on a blood-slick rack—stretched until joints dislocated with wet, tearing pops, then hammered and sawn until every bone fractured into countless jagged shards that lacerated internals from within; genitals were mutilated with serrated shears, slicing and excising in precise, layered removals that exposed raw nerve clusters to air and salt rubs; eyes were not just crushed but injected with irritants that caused them to swell and burst from within; tongue and vocal cords were hooked and stretched until they tore, silencing her mid-scream only for healing to restore the ability to howl anew; electrical rods (charged by System magic) were inserted into wounds, delivering jolts that convulsed her body in full-body seizures, frying nerves and causing smoke to rise from entry points.
Each time, her screams fractured into ragged, incoherent fragments amid retching and involuntary voids: "Hhhhuuu… no more… hhhkkk… everything—dissolving—shattering… Aaa… aaa… mercy… end this hell…" Fainting came in waves, her body collapsing from hemorrhagic shock or neural overload, only for reviving potions to slam her back into consciousness with a jolt, and Lucifer healed every unspeakable atrocity—reforming dissolved organs, reattaching eviscerated parts, mending pulverized skeletons with grinding, bone-on-bone agony—ensuring she endured every fresh abomination as vividly and freshly as the first, her psyche splintering under the infinite loop of resurrection and ruin.
And so it went, person after person coming forward, torturing Angelina to their heart's content—flaying alive, acid-corroding internals, limb-sawing, organ-prodding, venom-gnawing, electro-frying, and worse—and Lucifer healed her each time, keeping her alive and pristine for the next onslaught. Days blurred into nights as the cycle dragged on mercilessly, the party morphing into a relentless coliseum of retribution, the crowd's vengeful roars and cheers drowning out her fading, hoarse pleas, until the final soul extracted their visceral toll and the duchy's epoch of oppression was exorcised in an ocean of blood and broken flesh.