📌 NOTE:
This tale unveils a fresh Demoness for The Jugganaut Mind, debuting April 2025, crafted by the visionary Commissioner, Solarpowered.
Occult Obsession ⛧
Jack had always been drawn to the occult. Growing up, he’d spent hours lost in the shadowy corners of the internet, poring over fringe religions and dark rituals. It marked him as an outsider—few wanted to linger near the strange guy whose notebooks brimmed with archaic symbols and dead languages.
For Jack, this was no passing phase. He’d long since outgrown that initial curiosity, but the questions it left behind gnawed at him. He couldn’t shake the belief that some truth lay buried in the mythologies—too many threads wove between cultures that should’ve been strangers across time and space. Years later, as a grown man, while others chased mundane lives, Jack set out to unearth his own answers.
In a crumbling library, he found a dusty grimoire, its pages brittle with age. Incantations and rituals spilled across them, many faded or torn, ink smeared by centuries. But one stood untouched: a summoning ritual, pristine, promising to bridge dimensions and draw a being across the void. Jack was never seen again.
When he awoke, the truth hit too late—he hadn’t called a demon to his world; he’d pulled himself into theirs. Fascination and dread churned as he stumbled through an alien landscape. The air hung thick, foggy, laced with a faint whiff of sweat. Darkness cloaked everything, yet he could see—no stars, no moon, just an eerie clarity. Time slipped away. Minutes? Hours? Days? Exhaustion sank in, hunger and thirst clawing at his gut.
Gnarled plants bore strange fruits—pale, cucumber-like oddities. Edible or toxic, he couldn’t tell, but desperation left no choice. He bit into one. Flesh yielded, juicy and warm, spilling syrupy white ichor. He braced for sweetness, but it was savory—meaty, salty, thirst-quenching. Delicious.
The fruits sustained him, abundant and easy to pluck. But the more he ate, the stranger his mind turned. Erotic waves crashed through him, urging his hands downward. Each time he gave in, a word he’d never known bubbled up:
"Jugganaut."
It filled him with a hazy contentment, even as he scoured the dimension for escape. Jugganaut. The air sweetened, teasing his senses. Clothes became a memory—why bother when the balmy air kissed his bare skin, mingling with sweat and need?
He stopped wiping the juice away, letting it smear across his lips, drip down his chin, streak his chest. His nipples itched; he rubbed them with warm, half-eaten fruit, soothing and stoking the fire. How long had he wandered? Days? Weeks? Months? More fruit, more stroking, Jugganaut thundering in his skull. He licked the mess from his fingers, his body aching in ways he couldn’t name.
No mirrors, but he felt the shift. Pleasure wasn’t wrong—it was right, instinctive. Jugganaut pulsed as he tugged at his warped flesh. Bulbous tits swelled from his chest, impossibly firm, swaying with each step, begging for touch. They shouldn’t be there, yet they were—ripe, heavy, undeniable.
Understanding faded, instinct surged, and Jugganaut flowed through him. He pressed a fruit to a puckered nipple, pushing until his flesh gave. His eyes rolled back as it sank into the throbbing, mutated core within, gushing orgasmic juice that spilled in sloppy bursts.
Jugganaut. It spoke in an ancient tongue, dark truths flooding his mind. Life before had been a riddle; now, it was simple. He was a succubus, born to spread the gospel of fleshly delight—a universal language stifled by repression elsewhere. A hand brushed his horn, cupped his cheek. Solid black eyes met a sister succubus, her voice deep and hideously beautiful, asking his name.
Memory frayed. Before Jugganaut, there’d been a plain man in a blind world—a nightmare speck called Jack.
“Jhukhh,”
he rasped, tongue thick, ichor gurgling in his throat.
She welcomed Jhukhh as others emerged, hands and mouths worshiping her swollen, tender form. She joined them, flesh merging in a writhing, cum-slicked tangle, shuddering through endless release. They dreamed as one—of carrying Jugganaut’s vision to that sad, ignorant world beyond.
Written by Commissioner Solarpowered ☀️
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🌋😈 Jugganaut’s Juicy Chaos - Dive Deeper!
Loved Jack’s freaky fruit-fueled fall into a tit-swinging, demon-dicked succubus? 👹 That Jugganaut corruption vibes hard! Dig Ari’s Fall—popstar turned futa slut—or Jugg x Gaby, artist warped into a bimbo vixen, from The Jugg-Store comics below! More surreal, cock-popping transformations await! 💦
