Devil May Care
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Devil May Cry: The Lascivious Espada free porn video
The echo of footsteps filled the underground tomb's caverns. The squeak
of rusted door-hinges opening for the first time in god knows how long.
The screech of awakened demons. A salvo of gunshots.
Dante sighed as he stepped over the now-perforated Msira bodies, paying
them little heed as they flailed around in their death throws before
dissolving into ash.
"I never did get the idea behind using you guys to guard crypts," he
muttered to the deceased demons as he holstered his pistols. If he had
kept quiet, he may have heard a demon he missed slithering down the wall
behind him. "One or two slugs between the eyes and you go down like
anyone else. If they're gonna go with bottom-of-the-barrel mooks like
you, just buy a guard dog, you know?"
The bottom-of-the-barrel mook licked its lipless mandibles as it slowly
reached out to the ranting devil hunter.
"They're easier to train, more loyal, probably a lot cheaper..."
Just as the monster's claws were about to tear off its prey's head, said
prey spun around and neatly sliced the would-be attacker in half. The
son of Sparda chuckled, shaking his claymore to get the fiend's infernal
juices off it.
"...and they smell a damn sight better too."
Satisfied with his own dumb joke, Dante turned back to the room's
centrepiece; a large rectangular sarcophagus carved out of stone, with
several lines of indecipherable yet blatantly demonic runes etched along
the sides. Yep, this was definitely the place. He'd heard there had been
quite a few sightings of inhuman "creatures" in the area, and figuring
they might have something to do with his line of work, he decided to
check it out. It paid off, discovering a pack of Msira feasting on a
dead animal and tracked the beasts back to their nest here. Probably the
burial ground of some guy that dabbled in the occult and thought they
would protect his belongings, only to eventually grow beyond his spell.
"Which means..." Dante smirked. "...you're hiding something GOOD in
here, mister dead sorcerer."
A smirk on his lips, the demon slayer approached the coffin, inspecting
the encryption on the front: MASTER SOLOMON BINSFIELD, SEPTEMBER 13 1613
- FEBRUARY 2 1730.
"Lived to a hundred and seventeen, huh?" Dante asked to no one in
particular. "Way back in those times, and nobody clocked anything wrong?
Eh, whatever. Time to crack this bad boy open!"
He raised Rebellion and slammed the tip of the blade into the crack
under the coffin's lid, putting all his weight onto the sword's hilt to
try and lever it open. Slowly but surely the top began to raise, cobwebs
and moss tearing before Dante worked his fingers into the gap and tossed
the lid aside. Clouds of decay practically exploded from the
sarcophagus, catching in the devil hunter's lungs and forcing several
coughs and wheezes. Fanning the dust away, Dante peered inside and found
exactly what he expected; a body, practically a skeleton from centuries
of rot, garbed in a shroud of deteriorated fabric. From under the fabric
protruded two bony arms, their hands clasping the hilt of a thin rapier
sword.
Despite the condition of the chamber and its wielder, the sword was in
an almost pristine condition. The white metal blade was shining even in
the dreary confines of the crypt, roughly as long as Dante's arm if not
a little less. The hilt was wrapped in fine pink silk and was protected
by a golden semi-spherical guard, embossed upon were stylized faces that
seemed to be screaming in despair. Across the blade, almost
imperceptible to the naked eye due to how fine the writing was, was the
word "Asmodeus". Even without touching it, Dante could feel the power
emanating from the weapon. Demonic, hellish power, practically screaming
to be picked up and put to use. There was no doubt about it; it was a
Devil Arm.
"Jackpot!" Dante said with a grin, reaching down to grab the sword's
hilt. Trying not to disturb Mr. Binsfield's body TOO much (though still
managing to snap a finger or five), the son of Sparda eventually managed
to work Asmodeus out of its former wielder's grasp. Holding it up to
examine it, he could feel the familiar sensation of a satanic will,
trying and failing to overpower his own. He chuckled and nodded
appreciatively. Oh yeah, this guy was going right beside Alastor and
Lucifer...
...a tiny, barely noticeable gleam of red sparked in the darkness. Even
with his inhuman reflexes, Dante barely had enough time to bring his new
sword down to deflect the thin skewer that shot from the shadows,
stopping right over the half-demon's heart. Four more quickly followed
it, but this time he was ready. Pushing off the first spike, he
backflipped across the empty room as each attack missed their mark. He
landed on his feet and looked up as the five spikes retreated back to
where they came, and their owner lazily floated out of the shadows.
The gaunt, white, skull-like face stared at Dante with its empty eye
sockets, raising a single razor-sharp finger to prop it's "hat" up, like
something out of a cowboy movie. It was wrapped in a dark cloak that
seemed to be formed of the shadows themselves, and from under the
stetson-shaped headgear extended long white tendrils that at first
glance could be mistaken for hair. It hovered about a foot from the
ground, its body almost completely hidden behind the shade it had
wrapped around itself.
Dante scowled. He should have guessed something like a Faust would be
here. They loved dark and gloomy places. Of course, this gave the devil
slayer something to try his new toy on.
"Alright, tall, dark and ugly," Dante said, his frown turning upside
down. "Let's see what this baby can do!"
Without breaking eye contact, he allowed the rapier's dark energy to
bleed into his body while at the same time focusing his own power into
the weapon to keep it under control. The sword began to glow, as did
Dante's own body until, with a yell, he activated his Devil Trigger
form. Rather than the red of Rebellion or blue of Alastor, his body let
out a wave of pink light and in an instant he had transformed. He looked
down, eager to see what new form this weapon granted him.
And he nearly screamed when he saw himself.
As with all his Devil Triggers, he had taken on a far more blatantly
demonic form. Oddly for most of his D.T.'s, he didn't gain an armoured
or reptilian appearance. Instead, his skin had turned a deep purple, and
curved horns extended from his head as his fingers grew into long, sharp
talons. He could feel with his tongue how his teeth had grown into a
pair of fangs. A small pair of bat-like wings extended from his shoulder
blades with a larger pair growing out just above his tailbone, where a
long lizard-like tail had formed, ending in a small spade-shape.
But that wasn't what concerned him. What concerned him was the enormous
pair of tits sticking out of his chest.
And it wasn't just breasts either; the sculpted physique he had acquired
from years of fighting demons had vanished, replaced with a shapely
hourglass figure and long, slender limbs. His legs looked like they
would go on forever, and he wore a pair of thigh-high platform boots
with heels so high they might as well have been stilts. A tight thong
replaced his pants, slipping between his new firm buttcheeks to show
them off while protecting his modesty from the front, if only barely.
His coat had changed into a tight strapless dress, clinging to his new
bust and emphasising his cleavage. It was ankle-length, yet it had a
long slit up the front and the back from just below his belly button
downwards, causing it to fan out almost like a third pair of wings.
Shoulder length gloves covered his arms but left his fingers bare, and
his formerly chin-length hair now extended past his shoulders and down
to his lower pair of wings. He lifted Asmodeus to check his face in its
reflection; it was difficult with how slim the blade was, but he managed
to make out the alluring facial features of a temptress, with dark
markings on his eyelids and lips that, at first glance, could easily be
mistaken for makeup.
"What the HELL!?" he screamed, his voice having gone from tough and
rugged to soft and sultry, even despite the inhuman echo his D.T.
blessed it with.
A small snort made his ears perk and he turned back to the Faust, which
had used its hand to cover its mouth. Was... was that demon LAUGHING at
him?
"Son of a..." Dante growled and lunged at the Faust... or at least he
WOULD have, if his lovely boots weren't so unstable that he took one
step and almost instantly keeled over.
Seeing its chance, the Faust quickly stretched its fingers in another
attempt to impale the transformed devil hunter. Even as he fell,
however, Dante was quick to deflect the spikes with his sword. He hit
the ground shoulder-first, and quickly rolled to the opposite side of
his attacker before scrambling to his wobbly feet. He cursed under his
breath; there was no way in hell he could fight like this. He readied
himself to drop the D.T., but was forced to duck as three more extended
fingers stabbed through the air where his head once was.
"Damn it!" Dante yelled as he hurried as fast as his hooker heels would
let him, his breasts bouncing with every movement in such a way they
threatened to bounce right out of his dress. Trying to ignore the
sensations, Dante hurried for the door with a loud clomp clomp clomp.
But the Faust was quicker, gliding through the room and cutting off its
opponent's escape. It stared intently at Dante, and its claws glowed
menacingly.
Dante felt his blood run cold. He had no way to dodge; if he leapt to
the side, he'd fall over in his heels again and would be a sitting duck.
If he backed off, he'd be turned into a devil slaying shish kebab. And
he wasn't sure he could risk jumping into the air with a floating
opponent like a Faust.
There was only one chance. Gripping his rapier, Dante lunged forward
with a thrust. He spread his four wings and flapped as hard as he could,
lifting himself just enough to give a minor boost and lessening the
balance issue, if only slightly.
The attack failed to connect; the Faust saw it coming and backed away,
just out of the sword's reach. But in the same instant, the blade glowed
pink and suddenly let out a burst not unlike Dante's own D.T. explosion.
It didn't hurt the demon, but it DID force aside the shadows it cloaked
itself in. With a frightened shriek, the Faust's true insectoid form was
revealed. It spread its multiple legs and prepared to scurry away, but
Dante was not going to let this chance go. Ignoring his clumsy footwear
and flapping his wings once more, Dante leapt forward and plunged the
blade right between its eye sockets. A screech filled the catacombs as
the Faust writhed in its last moments before finally dissolving into a
puddle of goop.
Panting, Dante dropped to his knees and looked at the sword. Asmodeus
could attack through a Faust's cloak? ...hm, what else could it do, he
wondered. He slowly rose to his feet, shaking a bit unsteadily and
grabbing the coffin for balance. He glanced down at his body and
grumbled. He focused on regulating his and the sword's energies,
cancelling his Devil Trigger and sighed as the familiar sensation of
returning to human washed over him.
"Now, time to head-"
He paused as he heard his voice. He looked down.
"Oh, god damn it."
* * * * *
"...and that's what happened," the white haired woman explained to the
two proprietors of Devil May Cry. Trish's arms were folded as she looked
her employer over, leaning against their office's main desk; he was
wearing his usual black and red outfit, Rebellion slung over his
shoulder, Ebony and Ivory holstered at his hips, and his signature red
overcoat completing the look. But he had a figure any woman would kill
to have, full lips as red as his coat, and eyes with a gaze that could
stop a man cold. She knew she shouldn't be surprised, she'd seen a lot
more extreme things demons could do... but it still shocked her that
they could turn a manly man like Dante into such a babe.
Lady meanwhile thought the whole thing was hilarious, and had been in a
laughing fit ever since she heard the words "It's me, Dante!"
"I... see," Trish finally said, stroking her chin. "Well, that's a
very... interesting situation."
"That's not the word I'd use," Dante grumbled, his lips pushed into an
adorable pout as he stormed around his desk. He flopped down onto his
chair, bringing his legs up and resting them on the table. It wasn't an
uncommon pose for the devil slayer to take when he wasn't working, but
in his new figure it almost looked like a stereotypical supermodel pose,
as if to show off his shapely gams. As stunning as she was, Trish
couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy.
"So..." Lady took off her glasses and wiped her eyes. "...wh-what do you
plan to do now?"
Just as Dante opened his mouth to answer, the phone began to ring. He
quickly grabbed the handset and held it to his ear.
"Hello, Devil May Cry? ...got it. Be there in five minutes."
He hung up and turned to his assistants.
"Until I can get this fixed? Business as usual."
He was out of his chair like a shot, kicking the doors open
dramatically. He whipped out his pistols and twirled them in his dainty
fingers, Trish wielding his father's sword on his left while Lady loaded
Kalina-Ann on his right.
"Let's rock, girls!"
Fawn
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