Chapter 401 - My SI Stash #1 - For a Good Cause by Cambrian (Multiverse)

-Man's skipped thru da whole "Isekai training montage" and just started picking up anime/game baddies, W.

Synopsis: In which a simple man becomes not so simple after centuries of personal cultivation and ascension. At the end of the day though, he still has a man's needs, and not wanting to slake his darker l.u.s.ts on innocent women, he turns to the not so innocent.

Rated: M

Words: 23K

Posted on: forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/for-a-good-cause-multiverse.11349/ (Cambrian)

PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)

-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics/originals mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)

Chapter 1

Sitting upon his throne, a man contemplates the nature of his existence. He's no normal man, by any stretch of the means. Bald with a dark skin tone, he's also tall, broad-shouldered, and covered in chiseled muscle. He is the peak of masculinity, but even then, one might be able to mistake him for the average human. However, the blue gem embedded in the center of his chest, glowing and pulsing and throbbing with power gives hint to the lie that that is.

Of course, his current location also makes it obvious that he's in no way an average mortal by any stretch of the imagination. High above the Realms of Mortals, on an entirely different plane of existence, he sits on his throne, staring out at the emptiness before him. His name is Galen, and he might as well be a God, for all that his power does not hinge on worshippers worshipping him, or followers following him.

No, his power comes from within. In his mortal life, Galen was always focused inwardly, on perfection of his body, mind, and soul. He was also lucky enough to be born into a world where cultivating such things led to more and more power, until eventually, he'd simply ascended from the mortal plane. Of course, that wasn't the end of things by far when it came to his existence. The Realm of Mortals was barely above the Realms of the Abyss and Hell, sitting astride those dark places and barely hanging on, like someone riding a bucking bronco.

Above the Realm of Mortals was many more planes of existence, layer upon layer upon layer, and depending on who you were, any of those layers could be hostile to you. Given how Galen had achieved his ascension, without followers, without worship, most of the upper layers of his existence were hostile to him.

In the centuries that had followed, Galen had had to fight. He'd done his best to use his powers for Good, quickly discovering that his own morals didn't always line up with the beings that his former kin had worshipped in their day to day lives. Galen had not let anything halt his convictions, however. He'd destroyed the wicked, he'd protected the innocent, and he'd aided the righteous. Most of the time, he got nothing from it, save for furthering his soul's growth and power, his own forward progress upwards into divinity.

For so long now, Galen had continued on his chosen path, even as his power grew to Godly proportions. He'd ascended not once, not twice, but multiple times, more times than he could count. These days, he was so far above the mortals of his original world that when he looked down, he couldn't really even pick out which one was exactly his anymore. It was like looking down upon a whole bunch of ants.

However, Galen had a bit of a problem, one that might only be satisfied by those very ants. He was so powerful now, so strong. Not quite at the top of the pyramid, so to speak, but high enough that he could now look down upon the planes of existence that belonged to the Gods he'd seen his kin worship in his mortal life from above, standing tall over all of them as he did.

And yet… and yet, all this time, Galen had harbored a dark secret that he has never shared with anyone. To those who would be his allies, he has always done his best to appear as a Beacon of Virtue and Righteousness. To those who would set themselves as his enemies, he has shown himself to be nothing, but Retribution and Justice made manifest.

Despite his appearance, Galen is not a particularly brutal being, not even to those who would wrong him. But that's not because he has no brutality within him. More accurately, the dark-skinned man has spent all these centuries restraining that brutality, holding back his desire. Because… there is a temptation that comes with the powers he's gathered, the strength he's amassed. His repeated ascensions have only made him stronger and stronger, until not just his world, but the whole of creation, every single universe that has ever so much as been imagined, is open to him.

Long ago, he had tried to discard his libido in the pursuit of physical, mental, and spiritual advancement above all else. What was the point of s.e.xy, of intimacy, when all it did was weaken you? Time and time again, he had watched the sort of romantic love that his kin seemed to put so much stock in harm those very same kin, he'd watched as people were left heartbroken and hurt over this or that betrayal.

It just wasn't worth his time, so from a very early age, Galen had sworn himself to celibacy, and left behind such notions of intimacy. Perhaps if he'd lived a normal, mortal lifespan, he could have been content with that. But no, he'd continued on for centuries, and no man was made to go without such things for eternity.

The libido that Galen thought he'd discarded had never truly gone away, and in the last few decades, he'd felt it more and more. It was worse when he was around women, be they enemies or allies. There was a little voice in the back of his head that hadn't been there before. It wondered at how those women looked without their armor, without their clothing. It whispered to him about how easy it would be for Galen to find out, for him to take and take and take.

The voice was right, that was the worst thing. If he'd wanted to, they couldn't have stopped him. Even the Goddesses that now existed near his plane of existence would be laid low before him, if he decided that they should be. He could, in truth, do whatever the f.u.c.k he wanted, and the only consequences would be his own feelings on the matter, his own guilt and self-loathing.

Luckily for him, his own opinion had always been of great value to himself, and thus he had held himself back all this time. But he knew he couldn't keep this up forever. This… self-imposed celibacy was no longer a sustainable method of taking care of his libido, or of the dark urges that even now welled up in his heart. He needed to find a way to relieve himself of those urges, to purge his system of his wicked desires.

Luckily, he thought he might have finally found a way. He'd thought of a compromise, and he'd spent the last several days sat upon his throne contemplating the idea, looking at it inside and out, trying to find fault with it. Perhaps it was his desire to see it implemented talking, but he could find no issue when he considered his plan.

Rather than possibly hurting his allies, rather than simply choosing at random and possibly abusing an innocent woman, Galen would look out across the vast expanse of Creation that lay before him even now, and he would seek out villainesses from different worlds. Evil women, with hearts as black as night, with souls corrupted and darkened by their own vile desires. He would find them, and he would pluck them up for his own use.

Instead of punishing them with conventional means, Galen would use… e.r.o.t.i.c methods. He would show them the error of their ways, but most important of all, he would slake his despicable l.u.s.ts on their bodies, using them for his own purposes for as long as he liked. This would be fine, would it not? They were evil, after all. They deserved it.

Where to start though? That was the one way Galen found himself hung up on this plan. Even if they were all evil, it still didn't feel right to just… choose one. It made him a bit squeamish, to think about picking the first to have to deal with his god-like stamina and his dark desires. Instead, Galen would rely on an ability he'd created, just for this task.

With this new power that he'd made, Galen could snap his fingers, and he would be brought face to face with a source of evil wrapped in a female form. That way, it would be utterly random. It wasn't him choosing them, it was simply his power. Right? In the end, this was merely an extension of his righteous crusade against evil, against all that was dark and vile and bad in the entirety of Creation.

… In truth, it takes a God to fool a God, and in this moment, Galen was fooling himself for sure if he thought that this would not lead him down a slow path to his own corruption. But he didn't realize that and having convinced himself of the righteousness of his chosen path, just as he always has before, the God-like man raises his dark-skinned hand… and snaps his fingers.

-x-X-x-

The moment that she realizes she's no longer alone in the training room, she attacks. There's only one way that anyone could have suddenly appeared so suddenly after all, and that's with a Teigu. As such, it seems likely to Esdeath that this is an assassin, though he's unlike any other assassin she's ever seen before. Dressed in nothing but what looks like a sheet wrapped around his waist, the dark-skinned man is taller than her by far, and chiseled beyond anything she's ever seen before.

… He's not her type though. As such, the sadistic General has no problem whatsoever with drawing her rapier and attempting to slam it right through his chest, using the spot right above that glowing blue crystal in his chest as a target. At the same time, she calls upon her own Teigu, Demon's Extract, to form floating icicles in the air all around them. At the same moment that she's stabbing at his heart, the icicles are stabbing in from all directions as well, aiming to turn him into a perforated pincushion right then and there.

It should have been an overwhelming strike that would kill just about anyone. Given that he arrived in the room just standing there with his bulging arms crossed and a simple expression on his face, Esdeath doesn't see how he can possibly dodge her. The blue-haired sadist can't help but grin wickedly as the tip of her rapier presses into his taut flesh, expecting to slide right in and pierce his heart right then and there. That would show him for daring to try to sneak up on her while she was training!

C-CRACK!

For a moment, she doesn't quite comprehend what's happened. As her rapier shatters against his bared chest, so do the icicles spearing into him from all sides. Not a single one penetrates his skin, not a single blade makes it into his body. They don't even leave a mark, and Esdeath is left overextended, particles of ice floating in the air all around her as time itself feels frozen for a brief moment.

And then time resumes, and the shattered icicle pieces fall to the floor along with the extremely fine metal that makes up her now broken rapier. Still, if nothing else, the Empire's Strongest still has her instincts. They engage now, and even as Esdeath stares down at the broken rapier in her hand in disbelief, she's jumping backwards, hopping back a few times to put some distance between her and this unknown quantity.

She expects him to attack her back, now that her own first strike has failed. But instead he's still just standing there, when she finally manages to control herself and looks up at him. A slow, sadistic smile spreads across the blue-haired woman's face as her heartrate triples in speed, as her blood begins to rush with excitement and anticipation.

"S-Strong… you're strong!"

Her stammer isn't because of fear or anything like that, however. It's from pure, utter battle l.u.s.t. Her nostrils flaring, her eyes wide, Esdeath sees before her an actual challenge, a strong opponent worthy of her full power. Grinning like the battle maniac that she is, Esdeath begins to draw on said power… and then the blue crystal in the center of the dark-skinned man's chest flashes, and she blinks dumbly.

"You don't want to fight me, Esdeath. You want to submit. You want to serve."

The man speaks for the first time, his voice deep, his tone lecturing. Normally, such words would only enrage Esdeath and ignite her battle l.u.s.t even further. But… for the first time in her life, she finds herself submitting. Dropping to her knees, the handle of her broken rapier falling from her hands, Esdeath stares at the man before her with wide eyes, realizing, finally, that she is face to face with her one true Master.

"M-Master…"

Her tone is breathy and awestruck, and her eyes slide across her Master's gorgeous body, his perfect, masculine form. As such, she misses the slight grimace on his face. She doesn't miss him beginning to move towards her with purpose, however. Wanting nothing more than to serve her beloved Master, the beautiful blue-haired woman (still just as much a sadist where everyone else was concerned) reaches down and grabs the front of her military uniform. She yanks her jacket apart and then tears her bra away, exposing her sizable b.r.e.a.s.ts, letting the perfectly round orbs bounce free of their confines as he approaches.

Jutting out her chest, presenting herself to him, Esdeath looks up into her Master's eyes, her face flushed with need and arousal, her tongue tracing out of her lips briefly in anticipation.

"Please, Master… use me as you will. I am yours to command."

For a moment, Master is silent. He stares down at her with an unreadable gaze, his lips set in a thin line. Then, with purposeful movements, he reaches down and pulls away his kilt, revealing the rest of his body to Esdeath's gaze. His massive c.o.c.k comes up from between his legs in the same moment of course, rising to attention upon his say so and smacking her right across the face.

Esdeath lets out a soft gasp, but takes it, knowing that she is the weaker here, and her Master is the stronger. Her father's creed, the creed that she's lived by all her life has been as warped as the rest of her thoughts. 'The strong survive and the weak die' becomes 'The strong lead and the weak follow'. It's a small change in Esdeath's world view, but also a rather large one. Still, the Ice Queen accepts her new place at her Master's feet most happily, and m.o.a.ns as she nuzzles his meaty, massive c.o.c.k, which even now is laid across her face, his pillar of thickness absolutely huge.

Reaching down, her Master takes hold of her by her long, blue hair, and tilts her head back and back and back, until finally, the bulbous tip of his c.o.c.k is pressing into her lips. Esdeath doesn't need him to speak to know what she is to do. She opens wide, as wide as she can, and even then, her jaw positively creaks as he begins to force his way inside, inexorable and entirely unstoppable.

He stretches her lips out around his girthy member, and he forces his c.o.c.k deep into her mouth, until he hits the back of her throat. Then, he pauses for a moment, the first few inches of his shaft pulsing and throbbing within the velvet confines of her mouth, but plenty of more of his c.o.c.k sitting outside, untouched. Esdeath looks up into her Master's unreadable eyes and does her best to convey her desire for him to go further, to go deeper. It's her duty as his slave to take care of his needs after all, no matter the cost to herself.

Sliding her tongue out, she does her best to writhe it along the underside of his c.o.c.k as he pauses, showing just how willing she is to submit. Then, the pause ends, and he's skull f.u.c.k.i.n.g her, just like that. No more hesitation, no mercy, no steady build up. One moment, her Master is standing still, the next he's buried deep in her throat and forcing every last inch of his truly gargantuan c.o.c.k down her gullet.

"GAGKH! GAGKH! GAGKH!"

Esdeath chokes beautifully on her Master's c.o.c.k, of course. It's her first time ever even giving head, actually, but that doesn't make her any less enthusiastic, any less eager. Though, now that her Master is taking out his frustrations and slaking his l.u.s.ts on her directly, there isn't much that the beautiful buxom sadist of a woman can do but take it as he rails her throat with the entirety of his big fat c.o.c.k.

Gagging and gurgling, choking and sputtering, Esdeath is reduced to little more than a meat hole for her Master's pleasure. Exactly as it should be, of course. No matter the personal cost to herself, it is her duty to serve her Master, to submit to him. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how little air she's getting, this is where she's meant to be, what she's meant to be doing. So long as this is what her Master wants of her, Esdeath will happily give him everything that she is.

Though, it is getting harder and harder to breathe. Not that she blames her Master or anything like that, nor does she want him to stop. If it's her duty to die asphyxiating on his big, fat c.o.c.k, then that's all there really is to it. She does her best to keep her eyes up on his face though, the entire time. Even when tears streak down her cheeks and run through her mascara, she continues to look upwards.

It gets harder and harder to do so however, when her eyes begin to roll back in her head from sheer lack of oxygen to the brain. Her nostrils flare rather uselessly, as every thrust down her throat sends her nose crashing into his crotch, meaning that she's breathing his meat more than she's breathing actual air. But that's okay. Even as darkness encroaches on her vision, even as her Master forces her down his length with one final titanic thrust and begins to unload down her throat, making her lack of oxygen even worse… Esdeath is surprisingly at peace. If this is how she is to die… so be it.

Those are her last thoughts before the darkness takes her, however, they are not her last thoughts ever. Esdeath wakes up again only a few moments later, coming to conscious as she hacks up a good amount of c.u.m onto the floor of her private training room. She's on her hands and knees now, and in the time that she's been unconscious, her Master has moved behind her… or spun her around to face him.

Either way, her uniform has been torn off of her body, and she's been stripped down to her birthday suit. Esdeath doesn't mind one bit, at the end of the day, she is her Master's property, and whatever he decides to do with her buxom, voluptuous body is his choice, not hers. That doesn't stop the c.u.m-covered, half-conscious woman from crying out in ecstasy when he grabs her h.i.p.s and savagely thrusts into her waiting, sopping wet cunt in one fell swoop.

Her Master's massive c.o.c.k fills Esdeath's insides and the sadist cries out happily, feeling it as he stretches her p.u.s.s.y wider than it's ever been stretched before. He's f.u.c.k.i.n.g her d.o.g.g.ystyle, not something that the Ice Queen would normally have ever allowed. But then, when it comes to her and her Master, it's not about what she'll allow, it's about what he wants from her. In the end, it is her place to submit to his predations, not question or try to control the flow of their interactions.

Her eyes roll back in her head as his c.o.c.k slams into the entrance of her w.o.m.b, ramming her cervix nice and hard. Esdeath m.o.a.ns out wantonly, and a moment later climaxes explosively around her Master's massive, meaty c.o.c.k. Her insides clench and squeeze down around his length, but they don't stop him from thrusting into her even for a moment. He keeps on f.u.c.k.i.n.g her, harder and faster by the second, and all Esdeath can do in response is m.o.a.n wantonly like the needy whore she is.

Her tits bounce and jiggle beneath her along with the rest of her feminine form, until eventually her Master reaches down around her body and grabs her b.r.e.a.s.ts in each hand. He leans over her then, pressing down upon her with his weight, and Esdeath has never been happier as he mounts her and mauls her tits, groping and squeezing and kneading them with his strong fingers. He's almost certainly going to leave bruises all over her body, given how rough he's currently treating her, but that's perfectly fine. This is her purpose now; this is her reason for existing. In the face of her Master's strength, she is weak… and that means it's her duty to serve him to the best of her ability, with every tool at her disposal.

Whether that means fighting his enemies or just being his s.l.u.tty little f.u.c.k pet, Esdeath will just have to wait and see. For now, all he wants is to slake his l.u.s.ts on her body… something that the blue-haired Ice Queen is more than capable of accommodating. In and out of her cunt his massive c.o.c.k goes, slamming up against her cervix again and again, until finally, with a simple grunt, he thrusts right through her cervix and into her w.o.m.b directly.

The rest of his c.o.c.k disappears into her, and Esdeath can FEEL his member bulging out of her belly as her w.o.m.b ends up wrapped around the first several inches of his member. Her tongue sticks straight out of her mouth, and her eyes go crossed as she orgasms explosively from this. She loses all concept of time after that, only knowing that she's still being f.u.c.k.i.e.d by her beloved Master, by the man who's so casually taken over her life.

When he finally c.u.ms inside of her, filling her w.o.m.b with his seed, Esdeath's eyes roll back in her head and stay that way as she passes out once more, completely and utterly f.u.c.k.i.e.d senseless by her Master's massive c.o.c.k.

-x-X-x-

Once he's finished with her, Galen makes sure to transport them both back to his private plane of existence. Of course, now that he's going to have permanent residents instead of the usual guests, he supposes he's going to need more than just the throne that dominates the otherwise empty plane. With a bit of his power, he's able to create a sort of dormitory, and he goes right ahead and deposits Esdeath in the very first room.

Perhaps it's too nice for her, perhaps he should be housing a woman as sadistic and evil and bloodthirsty as she is in a prison cell or a dungeon or something filthy and disgusting… but then whenever he wanted to f.u.c.k her, she would be filthy and disgusting, and Galen didn't like that very much. At the end of the day, her accommodations weren't FOR her, they were for him… just like she herself was for him in every way.

Satiated for the moment at least, Galen sits back down on his throne with a satisfied sigh. However, deep in his heart of hearts, he already knew that Esdeath would be far from the last. She was the first, yes, but a mortal woman like her would quickly expire if he used her as he'd initially used her, day in and day out. And now that he'd had a taste of the more carnal delights… Galen already wanted more.