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creampie-capital · 5 months

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║𝘈𝘤𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦║

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ CONTENT

Promiscuous Masterlist ━━━➤ PROMISCUOUS

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Do not steal, copy, or repost anywhere. My work is currently on both CREAMPIE_CAPITAL on wattpad and Imtropicalbaby on Quotev. If posted on another account or website, please report and notify me immediately. Now onto the story :)

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

↳ᴏᴛᴛᴏ

snarls beneath its breath, which provokes shivers throughout your spine. That wasn't human, not even close to something even a god can produce. It was so quiet, like a whisper in the air, yet it provoked all hair to stand on end.

"Do not disappoint." Otto's words are hushed in your head, a mere quiet murmur that was nothing short of an order.

Before you have the chance to respond, your body is hauled upwards to your bare feet with the loincloth and skirt from before now adorning your bottom. You glanced around, noticing that you were alone before touching your cheeks which were void of tears and smudged eyeliner; however, the folds of your feminity still retained the thick, sweet slick from your arousal.

The ultimate being could have cleaned it away but had not, as if to torture you with that throbbing heat beneath. Or perhaps to provoke your head to cloud with desire and throw yourself to your new target like a harlot.

Another knock steals your attention, which spurs you to clear your throat and saunter over. It's another performance, another rendition to become the most desirable being to the god of death for the entertainment of Otto.

Upon opening the door to your room, you have to crane your neck to meet molten golden eyes shielding in the shade of the encrusted jackal headpiece.

Something tingles in the air; his radiance and unearthly presence suffocating. The pressure is nearly overbearing, thickening the air to spur you to struggle to breathe naturally. He is infused with power, an existence that should not even exist but does against all odds.

His expression is nonexistent, with a face impassive and stony. He refrains from speaking first as though he awaits for you to...

Oh...

"My lord." You welcome, head dipping down to bow in abasement. "I humbly greet you."

Something in the back of your head digs its claws into your brain, attempting to provoke your ankles to give out. It wants you to collapse to your knees, and grovel at the god's feet as if you are not even worthy to be in front of him.

Anubis is the patron deity of jackals, yet his own presence orders you to obey his silent command.

Lower yourself like a loyal dog to its owner.

You're sure it was on purpose, forcing you to acknowledge your place and the prestige of who you are dealing with this evening. He who stands before you is no normal human, no ordinary deity or being of comprehensibility.

He is the god of death, one of the nine Egyptian Enneads and he demands devotion.

"Rise." His voice practically drips with superiority, nothing less of his domineering presence.

You do as told, raising your head to look forward at his built abdomen. His figure is impressive, with a bulkier constitution than Apollo. There was no time to appreciate his figure when you first met or even the quick glance in the weighing room, but now you can appreciate the robust structure.

Not to mention, just like his mother, his limbs are long and lengthy, reigning at an impressive 8ft (243.84cm). Most of his dark skin is shown, scarcely covered in silks but more attired in jewelry.

Small and insignificant, it's what pours into your stomach and wails as he stands before you. The feeling is similar to something that dwells within, forgotten but remaining from a long time ago. Its familiarity is sickening just as it is welcoming.

Abruptly his thumb and forefinger snatch your chin and title your head upwards. His touch ignites tingles from the contact that swarm within your tummy. Your vision drifts from the built rows of his abdomen to the wide and flexing pectorals, before settling back once again on plump nude lips and golden eyes.

He's handsome and unbelievably gorgeous, and the power he holds is mouth-watering. Anubis is a god who reigns supreme, only surpassed by his own father.

There must be a plethora of goddesses that have thrown themselves to his feet, pleading for just a chance. Not to mention the number of souls who come to the underworld to have their hearts weighed only to be completely bewitched by his otherworldly magnificence.

"My birth mother practically adores you..." He murmurs more to himself as he tilts your head to the side so he can observe your jaw and the tendon in your neck tightening. "But I do not see the attraction of a mortal such as you."

There is something inside of you that twinges as if he struck your own pride. For a moment you feel your blood boil, seething beneath the thin layer of skin before inhaling deeply.

You're gorgeous, you're intelligent, you're alluring, you are that woman. You never took the Egyptian deity of death to be such a liar. For his words to be true, he would have strayed from your chambers instead of arriving.

He's ever so busy; death is never-ending, nevertheless, he took the time out of his absurdly busy schedule to visit your room...he may not want you now, but he's interested.

And that's all you need to get started.

"My lord~. Please forgive this unworthy one." You drop to your knees as your chin slips from his grasp. His height already far surpasses your own, but something within his stomach must tingle when you give him what he likes.

Submission

"Only the finest and most meritorious woman should be in the presence of a powerful god such as you." Your head rests upon the back of your hands that obscure a devious grin on your lips. "I would never think of myself good enough for such a deity but if you would let me...I'll do everything I can to please you, My lord. Just tell me what I can do; tell me what to do."

The way you react is demeaning, basically degrading by giving up your will. But that is the point; it nearly runs your blood hot with excitement at the prospect of 'offering' him that control. From his own radiant and domineering presence, you can tell he is assertive and commanding.

He is one of the Ennead gods! The deity who guides lost souls and kings through the afterlife, who protects and embalms the dead. He is one of the most important beings to exist in Egyptian mythology, and he knows that.

Anubis wants control; he needs it. How can he be a deity if there are no worshippers or parishioners that do everything to please him? You don't mind letting him believe that he has it, by offering it with complete 'submission.'

Even if you must resign your pride and push away your dignity, it's all an act because at the end of the day...it was your decision to let him do what he wanted. Plus, it feels like a dirty little secret knowing that you are just playing around and he is completely unaware of what you truly are.

"You know your place?" Anubis breathes outwards, and you can hear his clothes shift as though he is squatting down in front of your bowing figure.

Only slightly do you nod your head but you refrain from speaking; he has not permitted it just yet. It seems that your assumption was correct because he hums in a pleased manner and runs his large hand through your hair.

His fingers are coarse and rough and seething with an unnatural warmth. There's this soothing sensation, like a comforting reward that he is bestowing on you for being good.

If you were a sweet little cat, you'd probably purr and lean into his palm.

"No wonder my birth mother declared you as the perfect little bride. You are obedient, like a good little girl."

"Isn't that all you want? To be the perfect little girl?"

You disregard Otto's words and swallow the lump in your throat. It is imperative to perform just the way Anubis likes it.

"Stand, and you may speak to your god." The Jackal deity commands with a voice that could send trembles through the earth but definitely shoots electricity through your veins.

"Thank you so much, My Lord." Gingerly you raise your head and body, with his large hand still remaining in your hair.

His lips display a suave smile, marked with charm and confidence. You had his interest at first, but now you have his attention

You are that woman.

Abruptly his thick fingers tangle within your locks and tug, forcing your chin to the ceiling as a stinging sensation resonates in your scalp. Your hands fly upwards, unconsciously attempting to grasp his wrist yet you manage to squeeze them to your chest.

"Good." Anubis murmurs and leans down to bend at the waist and hover his lips by your ear. "You know already that you do not deserve to touch me. That is a privilege you must earn."

Oh, he really wants you to work for it. Apollo was easy; now it appears you must put in a little more labor to corrupt this being.

"Please, My Lord, My god, My Nesu-" The last part you articulated had not been translated though you could feel the importance of it. "Please tell this unworthy one how to gain that privilege. I'll do anything for you."

You are not conceited enough to feel shame for begging; in fact, you love it. You love the way it ignites some part of the other person's brain alive, the way it replaces their blood with excitement, and let's not forget the way it drives them utterly insane to hear it again.

Sure, Anubis can believe that he has all the power, but he'll find out what makes a b*tch.

"Anything?" He probes, warm breath fanning across your ear and tickling. "Do you understand the intensity of what you state?"

A grin wants to etch onto your lips; you can practically feel his anticipation, his eagerness in your own blood. The god probably desires to see how far he can push it, and how much you can endure.

He'll learn the hard way, literally.

"Oh, My Nesu~. Anything and everything. I know I do not deserve it, but I desire you so bad." You speak the sweetest honey, saturated with so much sugar as you tell him exactly what he wants to hear.

The Egyptian deity pulls away from your ear to lean back. His eyes beneath the Jackal headpiece observes your face, curiously taking in your appearance.

Does he see the humor in your (e/c) iris' or is it masked by your desperate hunger for gratification? Can he discern the growing smirk on your lips from the way he's already falling into your trap? Perhaps not by how his tongue sweeps over his bottom lip with anticipation.

How ironic when he exists as the god to weigh a deceased's soul, configuring how much sin they've accumulated through their lifetime, only for him to be consumed by it.

"How would you best like me to show my devotion?" Your question seems to rouse him from somewhere in his mind as he blinks slowly before meeting your gaze.

"Those are dangerous words, Hemet." Another word not translated, but the physical impact it has on your body proves that it must mean something of great importance. Or maybe it's just a nasty little nickname he has for his abrupt bride. "Can you take it?"

He has no idea what he has gotten himself into. "I can take you."

Anubis abruptly yanks your head back, pushing your body out of the way to enter your bed chambers and slam the door behind himself. From the moment he stepped in, he has become your husband in unwritten matrimony.

A slight yelp seeps from your lips from the searing sting before you are thrust toward your bed. You land on your stomach with your face bouncing against the plush mattress; the loose gold beads from the headpiece Nephthys gave you had clacked and rattled together.

Scrambling onto your back had barely been fast enough as Anubis' giant form swathes over your own. His knees dig into the round bed by your waist as a single hand holds up his weight above your head.

The bangles around his bottom and belly chains jingled from the movements as he grinned, sharpened canines displaying through his rows of white teeth. Walnut brown curls peek out from behind his headdress, and your fingers twitch with a yearning to pull them.

It's practically p*ssy throbbing the way this huge god straddles your little 'ol mortal body and shows you how insignificant you are to him. Oh, you are so tiny, so human in comparison to a deity.

What you would give to have him between your legs, reshaping your insides with that monster beneath his silks. Each thrust would knock the wind out of you, robbing it away with every pound, roll, and rock that jabs right against your sensitive little cervix.

He'd hurt so good, f*ck he'd tear into your nerves and control every sensation in the most commanding and demanding way possible.

"Poor little Nymph. Must be torture to only be able to imagine but never fulfill that desire, hmm?" Otto's ethereal tone only reestablishes that deep sense of arousal.

The memory of his bony hands touching you, caressing your body, is still fresh, and you're still soaked. At this point, you've fallen too deep into that part of your mind you like to disappear to, where shame, guilt, or any shred of rational thinking cannot penetrate.

Head empty, just big chocolate-skinned god ready to f*ck you up.

"You are cute, Hemet! With that look you bare-" His free hand ghostly skims over your face before ceasing by your lips and plunging his pointer and middle finger into your mouth. His slightly pointed nails dig into the gummy flesh of your cheek as he yanks at the corner. "-I would not have believed that your heart weighed lighter than the feather."

You want to speak, sweeten him up with some more sugary words however the opportunity right now is too good to pass up. Just like the little sl*t you are, your tongue traces over the rough skin and suckles.

A laugh snags in your throat, desiring to giggle out because it's funny how right now, he tastes like power.

Eagerly, practically desperately, you suck on his large fingers as if you've been starved for weeks, and you wouldn't dare let this treat evade you.

Unconsciously, your thighs are squeezing together with your hips raising and attempting to grind against the wet cloth of your undergarment. It's hot beneath, seething with heat warming the slick spread outwards on your folds.

It's probably humiliating, becoming so aroused by his mere presence and slender digits within your mouth but you cannot help it. The pressure of his radiance bares weight on your ribs consistently, as though it commands your own lungs when to breathe and when to choke.

He gives the orders, and you'll listen...for now.

"If only he knew of how truly disobedient you are. You would go from a submissive wife to a rebellious pet so quickly. We both know he could not handle it."

'Oh, Otto~. You speak as if you can.' Your 'words' prompt a rumble from its voice in your head that goes straight to your cl*t.

There's this throbbing sensation that is going along to beat of your heart. It's picking up the pace, growing in strength the longer you suck and taste the god's finger in your mouth.

You're clenching over nothing, begging for any form of relief.

Abruptly Anubis moves his fingers, no longer yanking at the corner of your lips but plunging down the back of your throat. The action was so sudden that you gagged with eyes enlarging and watering.

Your fingers almost grasp his thick thighs, almost touching that smooth skin that is nearly completely showing from the way the silks covering his bottom had ridden up. Instead, you grip the sheets beside your body and gurgle.

"Can you breathe?" The Jackal deity questions, yet the tone is laced with mockery. When you shake your head, he hums and pushes his fingers deeper to where the knuckles of his other fingers dig into your teeth. "Do not respire until your god allows it."

Your lacquered eyes shimmer in the light from the floating stars before trailing down your face. Make-up begins to smudge and darken around your lids just as the gloss on your lips smeared in such an obscene manner.

It hurts, your throat begins to ache from the constriction and blockage, yet you refrain from pulling away. Your pride is too vast to give in first and beg for freedom, not even when your head is spinning, and you feel your grasp on reality slipping away.

You're too arrogant, too conceited, and too f*ckin full of yourself to back down. It's been your greatest asset that you used and abused to get what you wanted. But it also brings some of the worst consequences that you say you don't deserve...

Anubis tilts his head and watches your collarbone jut against the skin, becoming prominent as your throat constricts from the gagging and choking. His golden eyes observe the flush of your skin, burning with heat that could rival even the god of the sun, Ra.

Oh, he's becoming aroused from this with the way his c*ck beneath the silk bulges against the cloth and enlarges. It's almost unbelievable. When his shaft was unaroused, it was already ample and presumably could have even filled your palm.

'F*ck you, Otto.'

"Only if you are good enough."

What an infuriating piece of sh*t. The ultimate being finds too much pleasure in your suffering. If only there was a way to really get back at him...but you'll think about that another day.

For now, you return your awareness to the tightening in your chest and vertigo in your head. Your fight-or-flight instincts want to kick in, practically begging you to yank his hand out of your mouth and crawl away.

But at the same time, there is this euphoria. Warm yet somehow soothing, the lack of air begins to diminish all the little nonsense thoughts. There is no hunger, no exhaustion, or even lust. It's as though you've been pulled beneath heavy, dark waters. With weightlessness and fluidity, it's the most serene sensation you can feel.

Nothing else matters.

"Breathe." The sound of Anubis' voice is muffled yet upon feeling his hand being withdrawn from your mouth, you are yanked out of those blissful waters and brought back to reality.

A cough sputters from your lips just as your eyes focus on the handsome face above yours. Your vision is blurry and muddled for a second before concentrating on his devilish grin.

"Good girl." You are praised softly with his hand cradling your face, the burning flesh of your cheeks nestled within his coarse palm. "Good little Hemet."

Yes, yes you are. The praise goes straight to your raging heart, kindling a heat that ignites all your nerves. "Have I earned it, my Lord?" Your fingers that clumped your bedsheets beneath from the hold now burrow your nails against your skin. "Is this unworthy one allowed the privilege to touch?"

Anubis hums absentmindedly, tilting his head and clicking the jewelry around his neck together.

"Please, My Nesu. Please grant me the privilege to touch you, to please you. I offer my entire being to you so that I may be able to gratify your ever desire." The words sound slurred in your ears, spoken off a gluttonous tongue.

The Egyptian deity stares down at your dazed expression, tracing the curves of your nose, the shape of your jaw, and the twitching in your lips. After a minute of silence beside your panting, he responds however with no words.

No, his large hands grasp the silks around his waist and remove them with fluid motion. Nothing shields his modesty; nothing protects your probing eyes from devouring the sight of his well-endowed length that drips with a pearly white liquid from the colored tip.

Oh no, you're salivating from the sight. It's gorgeous, holy f*ck it's deliciously exquisite. No wonder he exudes egotism and pretentiousness, the god of the dead has a d*ck that would surely kill you.

Its length was far longer than your forearm, rivaling something supernatural. The base where his crotch resides is hairless, with the beginning of his shaft straight and existing in a lighter, tanner color than his darker skin. There is even a gold band clasped around the base like a decorated bracelet that matches the ones around his wrist and waist. From there, the middle area thickens just the slightest to the side, but underneath it bulges out to a girth greater than your wrist.

And then there is the almost pointed tip, with the glands nearly blushing a vibrant red, as though all the blood within is just flooding inside. There are a multitude of veins jutting against the skin, nearly twitching at the sight of your eyes taking it in. But there is one that rivals them all, just right on the underside starting from the base and traveling all the way to the tip with the thickness of your finger. Humans were made in the image of the gods, yet what hangs above your face is nothing close to humane; it feels bestial.

It's a monster.

"Be a good little Hemet and please your god," Anubis exclaims while grinning coyly, presenting his sharpened canines in pride.

Yet before you can even reach up for the terror about to break your jaw, one of his hands grasps the middle of his c*ck to point it downwards, so the tip rests right up against your lips.

Hot, heavy, musky, and f*cking terrifying, pre-c*m already begins to dribble onto the soft flesh of your lips and infiltrate within your mouth so you can taste the power of a god.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

"I'm actually a fairly dominant person. I don't like to have no control or be told what to do." Chin-Sun raised an eyebrow, even tilting her head in surprise as she lifted her eyes from her notebook. "Really? I would have thought that a promiscuous woman like yourself revels in it during intercourse." You waved a hand dismissively and leaned against the cushion in her office. "You wouldn't be wrong to assume, I can easily switch between dynamics depending on who I'm with, but truthfully I like to steer away from it." The therapist had not expected your response, still sitting there across from you with a perplexed expression. It prompted you to raise a brow. "Come on, what's so shocking about that?" "I know you can switch, but from everything I know so far, you'd be desperate to be a pleaser in a submissive role." Her words harden your expression while straightening your lips. Refraining from speaking, you observe her more intently than before. It's difficult to tell her expressions or feelings unless she outright displays them...which only happens when she wants you to see it. "Why would you say that? I don't need praise, I don't need recognition, I just need a good f*ck, and then I'm off on my way." There's a tightening in your throat as you meet her dark eyes. "What even gave you that idea?" She merely shrugged her shoulder before setting aside her notebook. You watch her closely, following every movement until she leans back and crosses one leg over the other. "Let's be honest (Y/n). After everything with your father-" She wasn't able to finish as you launched out of your seat and grasped the coffee table, flipping it over to desecrate the ground with shattered glass and broken decorations. "Don't you even finish that sentence or I swear I'll f*cking rip your throat out." Your threat did nothing to intimidate the short-haired woman, even though both of you knew there were no empty threats. You do what you want. Except when it comes to the therapist, she knows how to make you back down. "No wonder dear o' daddy abandoned you. Even after everything he did, even after ruining you, he just didn't want you anymore."

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

I almost gave Anubis a monster c*ck, like an actual hound c*ck but I decided against it bc Promsicious readers aren't like TDMLM readers.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Next Chapter ━━━➤...updating soon

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

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