PREVIEW
... nts of Kaito’s Warmth surged downstream, spreading his seed into every root, womb, and throat that drank. But across the bend, the water blackened, foaming with shadow.
From the far bank, the figure painted in milk and blood raised his arms—and the river answered.
Hands of Void.
Hundreds. Thousands.
Pale, slick, clawing upward, dragging themselves out of the water. Their bodies dripped like wax, their cunts gaped like wounds, their cocks oozed tar. Their moans wer ...
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