Dead Man’s Harem. Since I can’t kill myself, I’ll find other ways to be happy. - Chapter 153 – What the hell is going on??????????????????? (18+)

Vesta moaned like a bitch in heat as Devon continuously raped her with his fat cock over and over and over and over and over again with every thrust, he was feeling a bit drunk with his feel-good-ness but of course mister porcupine didn’t know any better than to thrust in further.

It was a strange phenomenon in female psychology, where if a situation was presented in a way with plausible deniability, the female psyche itself would bend into a way that welcomed an unwelcome sexual advance. Devon couldn’t help himself, after all, with such an enticing pussy sticking out at him from nowhere. As a red blooded male, he had to stick his cock inside her. And Vesta understood– she didn’t have too much experience with men if at all, since she came from an all-female tribe, but psychologically it just made sense.

Devon saw an ass swaying toward him all defenseless and sexually receptively, and he took full advantage of it. There was no reason to apologize for being a red-blooded man in his early twenties. If he wanted to stick his cock in something, he could. He’d deal with the consequences later.

And Vesta kind of bought into that. She wasn’t going to hold him accountable for just succumbing to his desires, even though she didn’t fully understand why his desires resulted in him sticking some weird male part into her pee hole with the force of several thousand solar eclipses.

In the end, the difference between rape and not rape really came down to how presentable the situation was and plausibly deniable and how turned on and forgiveable the female party was.

Devon would never have done something like this in his previous life, but here her honestly didn’t have a fuck about anything he did or anything he stuck his cock into. Accountability was long behind him. He answered to no one anymore. He was already dead.

He was dead.

He answered to nobody.

He would never answer to anyone anymore.

Why would he answer to anyone?

He lived a respectable and lawful life in his previous life, and got bullied and beaten down and screwed over in every turn of life. Why would he care anymore about anything? Consequences? Let them be damned!!

He just didn’t care anymore.

Nothing mattered to him anymore.

He didn’t answer to anyone.

If he wanted to rape a beautiful woman, so be it. He’d do it.

Gods never answered to anyone. Gods never answered to the moral boundaries of ordinary humans. Gods didn’t care. They were above the law. Above consequence. Above humanity. And if he died, so be it.

He didn’t care anymore.

Bring on death.

At this point in time, Devon passed a threshold of no return. A barrier that no mortal would pass.

From this point onwards, Devon had transcended mortality.

He no longer cared about consequences.

He no longer cared about his own life.

The penalty for rape in his previous world was imprisonment for life, or even the death penalty?

So what.

He was no longer alive.

He would do whatever the fuck he wanted in this new world. If the gods would not let him rest in peace, he’d make his own peace, with his cock in every woman in this damned world that he never willingly chose to live in in the first palace.

A golden glow enveloped Devon as he thrust his cock inside the helpless amazonian beauty’s ass.

Devon felt his skin grow hot, his bones tremor like the second coming of an apocalypse. But he just didn’t give a fuck at this point.

Nothing mattered anymore.

Nothing.

No-

thing.

From this point on, he’d only answer to himself.

From this point on, he was his own man.

Little did he know, from this point on, he was a god. A real god.

My son….

One day, you will sow the earth with your seed.

One day, the heavens will quake in your wake.

I can only hope that you will be able to find your way through thick and thin.

Please, don’t lose yourself.

I love you, Devon.

I love you.

Tears formed in Devon’s eyes unbidden as he thrust his cock into Vesta’s pussy. A deep memory buried so far in his conscious just resurfaced, and with it came a torrent of emotion that he didn’t think that he still had in his empty shell of a self.

He hadn’t heard his mother’s voice in such a long time.

“Mo….m?” Devon muttered, tears welling up in his eyes.

She had been dead for more than a decade now.

But tonight, Persephone spoke once more to her dear son.

melonball