Wanderers of the Wasteland

Curved horns jutted from the head of a man that stepped through a shimmering crimson portal, where his one eye surveyed the barren landscape. A hunk of solid iron covered his missing left eye, his tall, lean body similarly swathed in patches of metal made from black scales with azure highlights molded into his skin. Gray and white, two-toned hair flowed down his back. His clothes rustled when he squatted, scooped up a bit of dirt, and sniffed it. Then, with a shake of his head, he rubbed his claws clean on his attire. Recalling what he'd heard, he yelled, “I know you're behind this! This better not be another world you've ruined, you damned Lust Goddess!” With a snort at the expected lack of an answer, he stomped off to explore more.

Wherever he turned, the dry earth was cracked. Likewise, a bleak sky framed him, his ears met by the low howl of winds that stank of stale musk. The sun appeared to be half-burnt to a crisp, the surveyor bounced around the emptiness whenever he attempted another random teleportation to escape.

Sweaty attire that smelt of burned leather stuck to his well-built frame. His throat was dry, his worn limbs heavy. Occassionally, a crack of thunder interrupted the gloom, a reminder parts of this planet yet stirred with dimmed life.

He'd been tasked to find whoever foolishly attempted to summon a 'God of Death'...and from what he surmised, the sorry state of this world was the botched result. Dirt and dust covered patches of his clothes, which consisted of a vest, shirt, pants, and boots made for the long haul. With a few other items he may need, tucked into his belt and pouches, he'd prepared himself well.

A disembodied voice called from the distance, “Still lost, are we? Tsk, tsk.” Mirth colored a voice that partially echoed in his head, cast by telepathy which reverberated inside his skull.

The one-eyed man's boots crunched to a stop. “Grayscale Carnifex, wasn't it? Show yourself, Apparition of Death!”

With a hearth chuckle, the human-dragon-hybrid manifested several paces away from him, with small horns of his own atop his bald head, clad in a gray shroud of robes, complete with a hood. “Indeed, my hapless friend. How does your current form suit you, Asphy? Compared to-”

“Definitely a change, glad you're sticking to our agreement about my name,” admitted Asphy, who felt his benefactor's magical power envelope him...and in a flash, transformed back into his natural state, a partially skeletal dragon with obsidian scales, melded with smoldered iron. “Were you responsible for this? Turned me into this drake/lich hybrid? I'm not impressed.”

Another chuckle met him. “Well, you'll need that prowess to survive the challenges ahead! What else can you expect from the leader of the Order of Reapers? And...I'm sure you'll appreciate the 'extra' addition that resulted...” He waved absently at the drake's sheathe, where a third penis rested, beneath his soft underbelly.

Asphyxious scowled and crossed his arms. “Hmph. No thank you, I have enough gifts from my friend, who's a fertility Goddess. Anymore and I'll start growing tentacles,” he surmised dryly.

“It sure will be when you cross this 'Goddess of Lust', as you dubbed her. She's another traveler, like you.” The heavy sleeve of Canifex's robe rustled when, in a hand gesture, he opened up a window to another portion of the planet. From there, the likeness of the woman Asphy tracked swam into view.

With a platinum mane that faded into violet at the tips, her eyes and skin a similar shade of purple, she stood tall and proud in her thong-leotard; matched by gloves and heeled boots that came to her upper arms and thighs respectively, her head topped by a witch's hat and a starry cape that trailed behind her. A unicorn's horn sat on the woman's temple, her full lips drawn in a wry smile, a hand upon a bare hip.

“Beatrix Belladonna,” noted the reaper in bemusement. “A wild card in the multiverse. Her Prima Materia,” he explained with a pause and waved to the eye-shaped bauble that clasped the front of the witch's cloak at her neck. “Can reshape reality itself wherever she travels by her subconscious whims!”

“So she really is responsible for this,” mused Asphy while they observed her.

“That's for you to discover! I'm limited by how much I can interfere. By my very nature, I'm half divine, and my mere presence also alters the fabric of reality. Not quite the 'God of Death' some believe me to be, but close! Thus, you'll have to act as my 'hand' to deal with mortal matters.” His smile broadened. “Of course, I'm prepared to offer you a boon in return. And I'm sure you'll relish this more than you think...”

While Asphy continued to watch his prey from the window, Beatrix stopped in the middle of the wilderness she'd found herself in, and after a quick look around to ascertain she was alone, with a hand wave the witch's entire costume shimmered and dematerialized, banished to a pocket dimension inside her Prima Materia until she needed them. Heavy breasts bounced free and settled, topped by wide, soft-colored nipples that stiffened into the breeze that caressed them, her womanly hips and buttocks similarly wide and sculpted to perfection, matched by a taut slit that adorned her womanhood.

“Beautiful,” confessed Asphy, awe-struck by the unicorn-turned-woman by the dimensional rules of the world they found themselves in. He watched her climb into a bank to bathe, enveloped just past the knees by the pristine waters. “Hard to believe she's responsible for this disaster!”

“Not personally. But mayhaps a key component,” observed Carnifex with a twinkle in his eyes, his hands hidden by the sleeves of his robes clasped close.

“Enough riddles, reaper. Tell me where she is, or better yet, why not simply send me to her? Would save us all some time and effort! Oh, but I can't, right? That first time we met, didn't you warn me about the use of portals? That were Beatrix and I to carelessly open a rift in this reality at the same time-”

“-the equivalent of a Klein Bottle could form. You could tear a hole in the universe that could cause it to unravel and eventually collapse! Thus, such powers should be used sparingly!” A smile further spread across Carnifex's face, his bulk muscular beneath his faded robes. “Best not to take chances!”

“I'm sure you have some other reasons, but whatever. Guess I have no choice.” The dragon-hybrid eyes continued to drink in Bea's form while she bathed, her voluptuous curves glistening from the pristine waters she repeatedly splashed her supple flesh in, kissed by the dimmed sun's tender rays.

Stray beads of water ran down her soft, supple slopes and hit the river with a tinkle, her eyes closed, her head cast back, and her tossed mane drenched, lost in a carefree moment of vulnerability. Physically, Beatrix was the twin of her mother, Trixie Lulamoon, with a similar boisterous posture.

He did a double-take when the woman in question, the self-proclaimed Great and Powerful Trixie, stepped into view near the riverbank. She dressed in a similar fashion to her daughter, and with her own smirk and hand wave, she freed herself of her own costume, where her own tits toppled into view with a smack of her bountiful bouncy breasts that finally settled into place.

With a sly smirk she cried, “BOO!”

“Gah!” Bea leapt up with a splash, her unicorn horn momentarily lit up by her aura which made it hum and shimmer in self-defense. Then she powered her aura down and relaxed her tensed muscles, her bosom heaving once she frowned darkly. “Mother?! Don't scare me like that! I-I nearly peed myself!”

“Some boys would pay a ton of money to see that,” teased Trixie, who sidled into the cool waters with a swish.

“Not funny! More importantly, why are you here? How are you here? Are you realy-” She felt Trixie's warm caress trace her curves to tenderly scrub them clean. “So, not an illusion, but you could still be some sort of imposter, like a clone, shapeshifter, or...oh~-!”

“No one knows how to touch you like I do,” reminded Trixie with a wink as she'd slipped behind Bea and started to run slow, sensuous circles with her heavy breasts, which caused her nipples to further stiffen and poke into her palms. “Mmm~. So soft and squishy! Just like your dear mother!”

They'd never intended to have a sexual relationship, but odd events from the wars that ravaged their homeworld had pushed them into it. They were practically twins, after all! It had all started with the Necronomicon, that damned occult book of the dark arts bound in stitched up and dried flesh.

They'd faced cultists, all manner of beasts, eldritch tentacles...many of which once had their way with the twosome, who'd submitted to the monsters and made love to survive. And once they'd crossed that taboo line, neither had been able to turn back when they needed to sate their lust.

Molded to her hands, Trixie molested her moist titties, rolled and bounced them with wet slaps on her palms, playfully pinched, pulled, and twisted her nipples. She peppered her neck in kisses, slid one hand lower, down her belly, until she reached her hairless pussy and traced her closed cleft. Gradually, as Bea moaned, her heart-shaped clit swelled when it was teased out from its slick, pink crevice.

Then, she teased Bea's love button, rubbed and tweaked it, which made her quiver and cry out. She melted, molded like putty in her mother's arms, slackened into a submissive posture.

Frozen and unable to ear his eye away, Asphyx felt his three cocks slide from his sheathe, his trident-like members thick, azure, and naturally lubricated. Each of his meaty tools were covered in thick veins when the trio of spear-like heads throbbed and spat precum that ran down shafts lined in fleshy ridges used to stimulate females, and open their cervix wide to better receive dollops of sperm into their wombs.

He tried to maintain his control over his consciousness, lest he be lost to breeding frenzy instincts that could overtake a drake once a fertile female was before his eyes, let-alone two!

“Beatrix and Trixie shouldn't prove difficult to seduce,” mused Carnifex. “Should you choose that route!”

Every instinct screamed at the dragon hybrid to take the women. To conquer and claim them! Yet he pulled to resist that siren's call, and in a flash, transmuted himself back into his human shape to maintain his control. “I'm not some beast,” he told his benefactor and himself. “But yeah, I'll make this Beatrix Belladonna and her mom see reason!”

“Go then! I'll await the news.” With a muted snicker, Grayscale vanished into the howling winds. However, he was so kind as to leave the voyeuristic window open, in case Asphy wanted some...private time to relieve his lusts.

The dragon-hybrid took another moment to admire the two women, still lost in their steamy tryst which threatened to escalate. “I don't know why I'm here anymore than you, my little hellspawn,” confessed Trixie, who'd bent Bea over the riverbank while she continued to molest her. “Just roll with it, like we always do! We can find all kinds of ways to pass the time!”

“Y-yeah,” murmured Bea between pursed lips and moans, when she felt fingers slip into her snatch and trace her slick, sensitive walls, her folds traced when her cunt clenched down on the invasion. Then, with a splash Trixie went to her knees, spread Bea's plush asscheeks, and dived in. “M-mom~!”

Trixie's tongue traced tangy twat and taint, tasted and thumbed them. She probed her in slow, lazy circles as she licked her cavern clean. Bea's digits dug into the riverbank's soil, thighs left to tremble when Trix explored her interior, until with a yelp a deluge of her love nectar splashed Trix's face. Her mother drank down and swallowed what she could, more left to splash down her titties and run down her tummy when Bea rode out an explosive climax that made her knees quake.

Squirt-after-squirt erupted, slimy and runny cunny honey that layered her mother. Their faces were scorched a hot reddish-pink from blushes, minds melted from verbalized pleasure. By the time Trixie withdrew her lips, they were still tethered to Bea's pussylips by threads of saliva mixed with love nectar that stained her chin, Bea's hot pink cunt still spread so wide open her slimy cervix was visible whenever it dilated.

Her shiny walls continued to contract, spider-webbed by more thick wads of feminine lust. Her puckered pink asshole similarly contracted with small ripples of lustful aftermath, hopeful they'd be filled and stretched to the limit the moment someone claimed her.

Trixie smacked her lips, absolutely drenched in her daughter's dam burst, which soaked her titittes and even beaded one of her nipples, her pale mane similarly soaked by her lewd desires. “Good little hellspawn~,” teased Trixie, who splanted a couple of playful pats on Bea's bottom. Flesh rippled before her eyes, the rump she'd inherited also heart-shaped and made to be bred into submission by a stud.

Still leaned forward, which left Bea's wet breasts suspended as they shook and swayed with each strained breath, her pussy wetly winked in a similar manner to how it would in her unicorn shape. When her breath returned, her violet eyes still hazy, Bea asked, “Mommy? Should I return the favor?”

“Nah. We can take care of that later, my little hellspawn! It's time we hit the road!” After a moment to clean themselves up, and after another spell cast to dry themselves, they waved back on their clothes, ready to step into the wilderness surrounded by a bleak wasteland that stretched for miles.

“So,” said Bea. “Let's find out whoever, or whatever's behind all this nonsense!”

Asphy, too, prepared to resume his own trip into the hellscape, the sun partially blotted out. Thankfully, he'd restrained himself and his members had softened beneath his traveling clothes, yet a bit of irritation and dissatisfaction remained, despite the ‘gift’ in the form of a weapon left on a rock for him.

Beatrix was like him. Displaced. A lone wanderer. Yet the difference is, she had some choice in where she traveled, whereas he'd been tossed about by the whims of fate. This time, as an unwilling pawn of this self-proclaimed head of the Order of Reapers, Grayscale Carnifex.

He felt it was more like being given community service. After all, his own followers did go on a bit of a rampage and destroyed a world. That got attention, which he didn't want in the first place, and now he'd make amends.

By this point, his human form had further stabilized, the black scales adorned by blue highlights wherever they were etched into his flesh, a spaded tail to match his horns draped from his lower back past his muscled buttocks. He stroked his metal patch over his lost left eye, his flesh a malleable wreck after he'd been tossed around and abused by the cosmic whims of fate. He reached for the stone, where the instrument of death awaited.

He'd finally acquired his own weapon for the journey, which now adorned his back, a sheathe that housed a broadside so thick and heavy, he kept it wrapped in layers of bandages. Blessed by Carnifex, the cursed black blade was said by his benefactor to once be wielded by the reaper...when he'd been an executioner. Hundreds of heads had once been lopped off by the blade and tossed aside, wicked spilled blood soaked into the metal. It's also when the ancient reaper supposedly acquired the title of 'Carnifex', where he'd learned the sacred secrets of life and death.

Asphy didn't care. He'd only agreed to work with him so he could be left alone. It would be some time before he could balance the scales, before he could at last be free of Carnifex's sly schemes.

Whirls of dust brushed past his boots when he set off into the desert. His eye scanned the horizon, past a whirling sandstorm, while he walked in silence. Then, his lone eye narrowed moments minutes later, when blotches of silhouettes were spotted in the sandy winds. His hand went to the hilt of his blade, tensed up for whatever awaited.

The beasts howled when they leapt out amidst bursts of sand, two-headed mutts with rust-colored fur that adorned their muscles. Hellhounds, he realized, minor but powerful demons. Jaws leaked red hot drool and spit out thick wads of spittle whenever they barked.

The pack rushed at him amidst howls. Dozens of them, their eyes yellow, teeth bared, who padded at their lone prey.

He stood his ground. Unsheathed his obsidian sword with a metallic hiss. Took a combative stance, ready to meet them head on, determined to keep his ability to shift into his dragon form until he absolutely needed it, since it would burn away his reserve energy and eventually render him all but powerless.

The first monstrosity met him. Went for his throat. His broadsword swept in an arc to intercept him. One of the hound's heads rolled from his body with a whimper, before he melted into a black ooze. Yet he lacked time to ponder this curious result, as another demonic mutt opened his maw wide to spit a fireball.

Air whirled under heat waves when Asphy ducked the fiery explosion that impacted a dune behind him. More limbs were severed, chopped off pieces and corpses also dissolved into slimy dark slime that sizzled and settled into the desert. He winced when claws raked his back and teeth sunk into his arm, before he snapped the bones of his assailant with a huff and tossed the carcass aside before it too melted. “So many...they're endless! Should I…?”

He pondered whether to use his most potent magic, yet the problem was his contract limited what he could use. At first the challenge proved fun, now it threatened to endlessly annoy him!

A sea of hellhounds started to pour in from the distance. Much as he hated to play his trump card so soon, he saw little choice but to transform, aware he'd never escape the horde on foot in time.

He'd slain a dozen more before his mind was made up, now swathed in criss-crossed cuts and bites, his weather-worn clothes dirtied and torn. He focused inward, his one eye closed in preparation to unleash the beast...before whimpers met his ears.

Blasts of magic rained down on the battlefield, like a mystical Apocalypse, each burst akin to a prismatic mushroom cloud that swallowed up the packs. He peeked back at the shrouded horizon to find the source. “Carnifex...?” No, he doubted his benefactor would interfere over such a trivial matter so soon. Poke fun yes, help no. Who…?

Then, he spotted Beatrix and Trixie swoop down, hand-in-hand, the violet witch able to fly due to a black mass that surrounded her and now formed her costume. The wispy black swirls trailed behind her while she helped carry her mother in the air with the aid of her aura. She called, “Geronimo~!”

He took out the strays, their tails tucked down when he felled them. More were nuked to oblivion by the witches. Within minutes, it was over, dark scorch marks and scattered dunes blown into packets of sand scattered around the victors.

The twins landed and approached with a stride that made their wide, bare hips sway and added a subtle jiggle of their bared cleavage. “Heels probably weren't the best idea to explore a desert,” observed Bea, who chose to float inches above the scorched dunes.

“No shit,” answered Trixie with bemusement. “Ooh, but we certainly showed those monsters what's-what! On that note, I suppose we owe our new friend here some sort of explanation! I'm the Great and Powerful Trixie, this is Beatrix, and you're-?”

“Call me Asphy.” He lowered his blade, his face neutral. “I know who you are.”

“Well there we are,” said Trixie. “That should save us all some time!”

“Those were constructs,” explained Bea, whose platinum hair swirled about her like it was alive. “That's why they melted once neutralized! Dark magic was woven by someone who's tried to make another copy of the Necronomicon, I think. That's my best theory anyhow, based on limited info.”

“On that note,” said Trixie. “Maybe you should conserve your power?”

“Yeah, I suppose so.” She waved at the black miasma around her. “That's my arcane power, called Erebus. Um, to spare you the longer exposition, it's formed from an eldritch entity called the Demiurge that lives inside me. Or does that confuse you more? Anyhow, like she said, it burns up lots of energy, so excuse me while I flash you to banish it! Hope you don't mind!” With a cheeky smirk, she banished the entity called the Demiurge, which melted away and left her fully naked, her voluptuous body on display. Clicking her fingers, she then summoned back her usual costume, which appeared over her and conformed onto her soft, supple curves.

He reflexively whistled in appreciation. “Not bad. Not bad at all.” He mentally scowled at himself for that, and reminded himself why he'd come here.

“Slow down there stud,” replied Trixie with a leer of her own. “Time for that later! Here. You lost this.” She intentionally turned around, her cape brushed aside when she bent over to reclaim one of his metal plates chipped away in the midst of battle, her heart-shaped, barely-clad blue ass pointed near his face. The leotard rode into the crack of her posterior, asscheeks from her posture stretched so the sides of her puckered pink asshole peeked out. She took her time and swayed her hips and buns with a hum, slowly and deliberately picked the fabric out that crawled up her butt to fully flash her tasty anus and pussy, before she finally turned. “Here! Ta-da!”

“Thanks.” He accepted the hunk of metal mixed with his own dark scale. Asphyxious studied it, turning it over, before crushing it in his hand. It crumbled away to leave a black crystal. Interesting. He would need to look into it later, and instead pocketed it for now.

Beatrix said, The odds aren't in our favor. Why don't we team up?” With a nail she playfully traced the lines of his pectorals. He didn't plan to seduce them, unless it was necessary, but they'd already all but turned the tables on him. He failed to hide a small swallow, eye drawn to the scanty duo.

“...sure. I don't see why not. Huh, but aren't those capes kind of hot?”

The mother-and-daughter duo exchanged a look and a grin. “You have a point~,” said the twosome in unison, and with a wave banished their capes, before they turned and started to stroll ahead, with an exaggerated swagger of their wide hips and buttocks, barely contained by thong-leotards. Unable to rip his eye away, he sheathed his sword and trailed after them, into the sunset.

He watched their asscheeks roll with each graceful movement, their leotards so high-cut their asses were pretty much on full display for his enjoyment, aside from the cheeky butt floss that further emphasized their pert rumps.

Whoever Beatrix was, something told him she wasn't wicked at heart, whatever her flaws. And he couldn't deny his heart raced at a potential chance to bed the two of them. Preferably at the same time. Already he felt his trident of cocks stir and strain in his pants, but shook aside his baser lusts to focus on their shared mission.

Explore. Deal with threats. Find the source of this madness. End this insanity. Then he could return home.

From a charred mountain, Grayscale Carnifex observed the threesome of wanderers with a smile filled with mirth.