At 7'2", dis towerin succubus is tha embodiment of raw juice n' otherworldly beauty. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch has tha strong, lean, long-limbed body of a predator; fo' truly, dat is what tha fuck her ass is fo' realz. A pair of long, black, gnarled horns erupt from her brow, nestled up in silky black afro dat cascades up in dark waves over her shouldaz yo. Her gigantic, M-cup tizzlez is firm n' swollen as though ripe wit milk yo. Her slender waist slopes tha fuck into wide hips n' tha perfectly rounded bubblez of a magnificent butt yo. Her eyes is like two shimmerin suns; poolz of molten gold aflame wit tha hatred n' lust dat gin n juice her savagery yo. Her leathery wings gotz a twenty-foot span when straight-up extended, makin her all tha mo' terrifyin yo. Her smooth, tapered tail be bout five-feet long n' capped wit a razor-sharp spade.

Desdemona be a unique variety of succubus from tha lightless humpin pitz of Shendilavri; dat biiiiatch was never born truly female. Despite her awe-inspirin presence, her most alarmin attributes is tha truly massive playaaaaaa-hammer swingin penduously past her knees, n' a pair of grotesquely swollen pumpkin-sized balls hangin like anvils between her bangin fat-ass thighs. That huge, throbbin slab of meat is easily forty-inches long n' eight-inches wide when straight-up turgid; a womb-crushin monstrositizzle dat is eternally swollen wit boiling, demonic blood.

That uncut, engorged meat-piston is covered up in visibly throbbin veins, radiatin wavez of unnatural heat wit every last muthafuckin heartbeat yo. Her thick, crimson foreskin almost straight-up enshroudz tha engorged, melonous cockhead. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da vulgar, primal musk of ding-a-ling cloys tha air like a thick perfume, laced wit potent, lust-inducing, mind-numbin pheromones. This brutish slab of meat is strangely dope up in its raw, primal glory; up in all tha realms, up in all tha planes, if there was eva a "perfect" cock, it would be dis nigh-apocalyptic biiiatch-breaker n' shit. This is tha virile altar ta which legionz of mortals n' planars alike have groveled, n' upon which legions mo' done been bred.

Da broad belly of her ding-a-ling is pierced every last muthafuckin beefy inch wit a ladder of thick black iron barbell-shaped rods, each faintly glowin from tha sizzlin heat radiatin from its tremendous bulk. Presently, two of these piercings contain tormented, enslaved souls: Da rogue Arachne Minerva n' tha ill-fated mage Sakura Osaka fo' realz. A thick black iron krin fits round tha root of her fat dick, exudin strange, ancient magic fo' dem sensitizzle ta such thangs, providin two straight-up specific effects: without tha ringz wards, her eternally-engorged ding-a-ling would continue ta swell outta control, n' tha endless ocean of jizz boilin up in tha giant baby-factories between her hairy-ass legs would erupt like a cold-ass lil ceaseless volcano of shemale spunk, renderin her a helpless, non-sentient, orgasmic fuck up of a funky-ass beast fo' tha rest of her immortal game. Da rang controls tha ebb n' flow of dat flood. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! But fuck dat shiznit yo, tha word on tha street is dat tha wardz have clearly weakened over millennia of strain - as evinced by tha decadent river of creamy baby-yogurt continuously droolin from her ding-a-ling - n' less than a thugged-out decade of protection remains between her n' dis inevitable, dark fate.

Desdemona started doin thangs ta be tha slick breeder; primal, sadistic, n' utterly insatiable yo. Her big, bloated, dope balls is low n' heavy wit tha sheer weight of her thick, boilin butter n' shit. These swollen, cream-filled melons slosh n' groan audibly as dat biiiiatch strutts - often earnin frightened looks from passersby - as though swollen ta tha brink of bursting, eternally achin fo' release yo. Her balls is gigantic baby-factories, so backed-up dat her fat dick perpetually oozes a long-ass rope of molten cream dat drools ta tha ground, quickly formin a cold-ass lil conspicuous, steaming-hot puddle at her Nikes yo. Her balls produce seemingly endless gallonz of semen so thick n' creamy dat it could only be compared ta vanilla pudding; tha fertilitizzle n' volume of her seed is such dat pregnancy is guaranteed regardless of what tha fuck orifice, gender, or species she inseminates. Da flood of her potent seed often bears whole littaz of offsprin up in her mates, gestation periodz rangin from tha typical months-long pregnancy ta mere minutes up in particularly fertile femalez yo. Her creamy baby batta be a powerfully addictizzle sticky-icky-icky, inducin feverish lust, panic, hallucinations, n' a slew of other cripplin symptoms dat leave her mates - willin or not - helpless ta her wicked desires. In da most thugged-out off tha hook cases, tha corruption sloshin round up in dem fat pumpkin-balls can break a personz mind n' turn dem tha fuck into lil mo' than a whorish meat-puppet, produce dramatic physiological transformations, or dirtnap from overdose or withdrawal.

Most mortals cannot conceive of tha horny-ass shiznit dat dis succubus is capable of yo. Her hunger is clear ta all whoz ass behold her: Dat hoe goin ta rape n' impregnate you, biatch. Desdemona will, straight-up, without exception, inerrantly, fill yo' belly full of babies. Put ya muthafuckin choppers up if ya feel dis! Willin or not, dat biiiiatch wants ta utterly ravage, humiliate, n' fuck wit you, biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch wants ta peep tha hope extinguish up in yo' eyes forever n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch no empathy or mercy; dat freaky freaky biatch has no ass of her own yo, but dat biiiiatch will tear yours from yo' body n' rape it up in front of you, biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch hungers ta fuck wit innocence n' purity; virgins, faithful wives, paladins, chaste priests, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Every dizzle dat she lives up in dis ghetto, it grows a lil darker.