Duchess mor Taranthe
Like all true monsters of the Abyss, the demoness has indulged in unchecked depravity for hundreds of years. There is no pain or pleasure imaginable that she has not experienced at first hand, nor is there a method of torture she has failed to visit upon the quivering flesh of her prey. What separates her from the slavering hordes of lesser fiends is that which distinguishes all demons that claw their way to the top of the Abyssal food chain; ruthlessness beyond measure, a cold intellect coupled with low cunning, and excruciating attention to detail in all that she does.
Although the fiend can alter her shape at whim, she is perhaps at her most comfortable in the guise of a human duchess of indeterminate age. Wreathed in luxury from head to toe, Melanquis of the house of Taranthe is a voluptuous woman of middling height. The porcelain white flesh of her beautifully cruel face is framed by twin cascades of hair that shine with the color of blood. Even in her human shape she refuses to be passed off as a mere mortal; her eyes are featureless pools of electric blue that instantly betray her unnatural origin. The fiend's sanguine lips look delicious enough to make one think that nipping at the pair would be like biting into candy. Should those lips curve into a smile, her expression is as mocking as it is inviting.
The demon's pallid figure is shaped like an hourglass, with double D breasts and a narrow waist that gives way to the wide curves of her hips and ass. The abundance of her luscious rear in particular is even more perfect than the inviting swell of her bosom. No blemishes mar the pristine pallor of her flesh, and she has no body hair whatsoever from the neck down. The nails of her fingers and toes are painted red, and her fingernails in particular are long enough to resemble the talons of a bird of prey.
Save for the rings struck through her fat nipples, all of her body piercings are centered on her genitals. Regardless of the shape the demoness chooses to adopt, her loins come equipped with a phallus of truly devastating proportions. Even when the member is flaccid it reaches down to her mid-thigh, and once the demon's bitch-breaker has swollen with blood, the mast is nearly a foot and a half long. The dome of the shaft carries a thick and heavy ring that goes in through the urethral opening and comes out at the underside of the cock where the glans meets the shaft. The bulging underbelly of the pale python is also skewered with the staggering number of twenty barbell piercings. The beads on each end of the bars create two rows that begin just behind her Prince Albert piercing and run down to the root of her circumcised cock. Wrapped around the base of the shaft is a tightly fitting cock ring that keeps her ejaculations in check.
The immense bulk of her junk is closely hugged by a pair of apple-sized testes as perfectly hairless as the rest of her body. Another metal ring squeezes the root of her scrotum with enough force to keep her balls perpetually blue. The bulbous globes are simply made to be worshipped by a devoted pair of lips, and the weak-willed in particular find it simply natural to kneel before the imperious fiend.