___ The three Primordial demons – Testarossa, Ultima, and Carrera – dissolve Rimuru’s office door to pitch him a business proposal: physical intimacy creates a power conduit, and by becoming fully attuned to him they’ll get stronger as he grows toward becoming the strongest.
Rimuru agrees with ground rules, seals the office with privacy wards, and spends the next three days locked inside with them taking turns and then together, while the rest of Tempest politely pretends not to hear anything.
___ Rimuru Tempest sat behind his desk, reviewing the latest trade agreements with the Western Nations.
The afternoon sun filtered through the tall windows of his office, casting long shadows across the polished wooden floor.
His quill scratched against parchment as he signed off on another document, his mind half-focused on the mundane administrative work that came with running a nation.
The door didn’t open.
It simply ceased to exist, dissolving into black particles that swirled like living shadows.
Three figures stepped through the gap, their presence filling the room with an oppressive weight that made the air itself feel thicker.
Testarossa entered first, her silver hair cascading down her back like moonlight woven into silk.
Her crimson eyes locked onto Rimuru with an intensity that bordered on predatory.
Behind her, Ultima bounced on her heels, her twin tails swaying with barely contained excitement.
Carrera brought up the rear, her expression carrying that dangerous smile that usually preceded something exploding.
“Rimuru-sama,” Testarossa said, her voice smooth as velvet over steel.
“We need to discuss something important.” Rimuru looked up from his work, one eyebrow raised.
“You dissolved my door.
That’s usually reserved for emergencies or when someone’s about to die.” “Neither applies,” Carrera said, stepping forward.
“Though the outcome might feel like death.
The pleasant kind.” “Now I’m confused and slightly concerned.” Rimuru set down his quill and leaned back in his chair.
“What’s this about?” The three demons exchanged glances.
A silent conversation passed between them—centuries of shared existence allowing them to communicate without words.
Testarossa nodded once, and Ultima giggled.
“You are going to become the strongest being in this world,” Testarossa began, her tone leaving no room for doubt.
“It is not a question of if, but when.
Your growth rate surpasses anything we have witnessed in our millennia of existence.” “I appreciate the vote of confidence—” “We are not praising you,” Carrera interrupted.
“We are stating facts.
And facts require action.” Ultima bounced forward, her hands clasped together.
“We want to have sex with you, Rimuru-sama!
All three of us!” The words hung in the air like a bomb waiting to detonate.
Rimuru blinked.
Then blinked again.
“I’m sorry, what?” “As primordial demons, our power is tied to those we form bonds with,” Testarossa explained, her voice clinical despite the subject matter.
“Physical intimacy creates a conduit for power transfer.
By mating with you, we can accelerate our own growth and synchronize our abilities with yours.” “Think of it as an investment,” Carrera added, grinning.
“We put in the work now, and we reap the rewards when you ascend.” “And the work involves…
sex.” “Very rough sex,” Ultima said cheerfully.
“Lots of it.
For days.” Rimuru stared at them for a long moment.
He considered the logistics, the implications, the absurdity of three ancient demons propositioning him in his office on a Tuesday afternoon.
Then he thought about it properly.
Their reasoning was sound.
Power in this world flowed through connections—the stronger the bond, the greater the transfer.
And if he was going to face what lay ahead, having three primordial demons fully attuned to his wavelength would be invaluable.
“We’ll need ground rules,” he said finally.
Ultima squealed with delight.
The office transformed.
Rimuru waved his hand, and the furniture rearranged itself—desk pushed against the wall, chairs stacked in the corner, the carpet expanding into a wide, cushioned space.
Privacy wards layered over the room like blankets, sealing sound and presence from the outside world.
Testarossa moved first.
She approached him with measured steps, her silver hair swaying with each movement.
Her uniform dissolved into shadow, revealing pale skin that seemed to glow in the dim light.
Her breasts were full and firm, dark nipples already hardened in anticipation.
She was built like a predator—lean muscle beneath smooth flesh, every line of her body designed for efficiency and power.
“Allow me to demonstrate proper technique,” she said, her voice dropping to a husky whisper.
Rimuru stood his ground as she closed the distance.
Her fingers found his shirt, tearing it open with casual strength.
Buttons scattered across the floor.
Her palms pressed against his chest, feeling the heartbeat beneath.
“You’re nervous,” she observed.
“First time with a primordial demon.
Cut me some slack.” “Good.
Fear sharpens the senses.” She pushed him backward onto the cushion, following him down with fluid grace.
Her mouth found his throat, teeth grazing the sensitive skin.
Not breaking it—just threatening to.
A promise of what she could do if she wanted.
Her hand slid down his stomach, fingers curling around his already hardening cock.
She stroked him slowly, deliberately, watching his face with those crimson eyes.
“Primordial demons have unlimited stamina,” she reminded him.
“We can do this for as long as we want.
For as long as you want.” “Then stop teasing and—” She mounted him in one smooth motion.
Her hips sank down, taking his length inside her in a single, wet thrust.
Her inner walls clamped around him like a vise, hot and tight and impossibly smooth.
She rode him with mechanical precision, her hips rolling in waves that hit every sensitive nerve.
Rimuru gasped, his hands finding her hips.
She was relentless—not fast, but deep.
Each stroke pressed against his prostate, drawing out sounds he didn’t know he could make.
“Look at me,” she commanded.
He did.
Her crimson eyes bored into his, and he felt something shift between them—a connection forming, power flowing through the link created by their bodies.
“More,” she breathed, and increased her pace.
Her breasts bounced with each thrust.
Rimuru’s hands found them, squeezing the soft flesh, rolling her nipples between his fingers.
She moaned—a sound that was almost human—and dug her nails into his chest.
“Harder,” she said.
He flipped them over, driving into her from above.
He fucked her with rough, punishing strokes, each thrust pushing her further into the cushion.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper.
“Yes.
Like that.
Don’t stop.” Her climax hit her like a wave—her body arching, her inner muscles spasming around his cock.
But she didn’t signal him to stop.
She kept going, kept pushing, kept demanding more.
They went for what felt like hours.
She came multiple times, each orgasm drawing them closer through that psychic link.
When she finally released him, her body trembled with satisfied exhaustion.
“Your turn,” she said, nodding toward Ultima, who was already stripping off her clothes.
Ultima was smaller than Testarossa, but her energy made up for it.
She practically vibrated with excitement as she crawled toward him, her twin tails wagging like a puppy’s.
“I’ve been waiting for this!” she exclaimed, pouncing on him.
Her kisses were sloppy, enthusiastic, covering his face and neck and chest.
She worked her way down his body with manic energy, her tongue tracing patterns across his skin.
When she reached his cock, still slick from Testarossa, she took him into her mouth without hesitation.
Rimuru’s head fell back as she worked him with her tongue.
She was less skilled than Testarossa, but her enthusiasm more than compensated.
She gagged herself on his length, tears streaming down her cheeks, but she didn’t stop.
She kept going until she had taken every inch.
When she surfaced, gasping for air, she grinned up at him.
“Now for the real fun!” She positioned herself on all fours, presenting her ass to him.
Her pussy was already wet, glistening in the dim light.
She looked back at him with hungry eyes.
“Fuck me, Rimuru-sama.
Fuck me like you mean it.” He didn’t need to be told twice.
He entered her from behind, and she cried out—a sharp, desperate sound.
Her walls gripped him immediately, pulling him deeper.
He grabbed her hips and started thrusting, setting a brutal pace.
“Yes!
Yes!
Harder!
Break me!” He fucked her with everything he had, each stroke driving her forward.
She pushed back against him, meeting his rhythm with her own.
Her moans filled the room, loud and unashamed.
Rimuru’s hand found her hair, wrapping around her twin tails and yanking her head back.
She moaned louder at the pain, her pussy clenching around him.
“Cum inside me,” she begged.
“Fill me up.
I want to feel you for days.” He drove into her one last time, his release flooding her womb.
She came with him, her body shaking through the orgasm.
When he pulled out, his cum dripped down her thighs.
She collapsed onto the cushion, panting and grinning.
“More.
I want more.” “Later,” Carrera said, stepping forward.
“It’s my turn.” Carrera took her time.
She approached him slowly, her hips swaying with deliberate sensuality.
Her body was built for destruction—lean muscle, sharp angles, and that dangerous smile that promised violence and pleasure in equal measure.
“I’m not as gentle as Testarossa or as eager as Ultima,” she said, pressing him back down onto the cushion.
“I like it rough.
I like it painful.
I like it when I can’t tell if I’m hurting you or pleasuring you.” “I can heal,” Rimuru reminded her.
“Good.” She straddled his face first, lowering her pussy onto his mouth.
“Eat me out.
Make me cum with that tongue.” He obeyed.
His tongue found her clit, licking and sucking with practiced precision.
She moaned above him, her hips grinding against his face.
Her hands gripped his hair, pulling him deeper into her.
“Yes.
Right there.
Don’t stop.” She came quickly, her thighs clamping around his head.
But she didn’t let him rest.
She turned around, facing his cock, and lowered herself onto it.
She fucked him reverse cowgirl, her back arched, her head thrown back in pure pleasure.
Her pace was punishing—fast and deep, each stroke hitting a different angle.
“Touch my boobs,” she demanded.
His hands found her breasts, squeezing them roughly.
She moaned and increased her pace.
“Pinch my nipples.” He twisted them between his fingers, and she cried out, her pussy clamping down on him.
“Yes.
Like that.
Harder.” They went at it for what felt like hours.
She came multiple times, each orgasm triggering another.
She didn’t slow down, didn’t stop, didn’t let him rest.
When she finally let him take control, he flipped her onto her stomach and fucked her from behind.
He grabbed her hips and drove into her with brutal force, each stroke accompanied by the sound of skin slapping against skin.
“I’m going to cum,” she gasped.
“Do it.” She screamed as she came, her body convulsing beneath him.
He followed moments later, his release filling her completely.
She collapsed beside Testarossa, both of them panting.
Ultima crawled over, still eager.
“Now together?” she asked.
They positioned him on his back.
Testarossa straddled his face, lowering her pussy onto his mouth.
Carrera took his cock, riding him reverse cowgirl.
Ultima positioned herself above his hand, guiding his fingers inside her.
They moved in unison, a coordinated assault on his senses.
Rimuru’s tongue worked Testarossa’s clit while his hips thrust up into Carrera.
His fingers fucked Ultima’s tight pussy, her walls gripping him desperately.
“Oh gods,” he gasped, pulling away from Testarossa for a moment.
“Don’t stop,” Testarossa commanded, pressing his face back into her.
They kept going for what felt like hours.
Rimuru lost track of time, lost track of who he was fucking and who was fucking him.
It became a blur of flesh and sweat and moans.
At some point, they switched positions.
Carrera took his mouth while Ultima rode his cock, Testarossa grinding against his thigh.
Then they switched again, and again.
By the time they were done, the cushion was soaked, the air thick with the scent of sex.
They didn’t let him go for three days.
The office became their private playground.
They fucked on the desk, on the floor, against the walls.
They took breaks only to clean up and eat, then started again.
Others in the Tempest Federation went about their business.
Shuna organized the household tasks, pretending not to notice the sounds coming from Rimuru’s office.
Shion sharpened her sword, pointedly ignoring the muffled moans that slipped through the wards.
Diablo read a book in the garden, a knowing smile on his face.
No one said anything.
When Rimuru finally emerged, looking more exhausted than he’d ever been in either of his lives, he found everyone acting perfectly normal.
“Good morning, Rimuru-sama,” Shuna said, handing him a cup of tea.
“Did you have a productive few days?” “Extremely productive,” he said, his voice hoarse.
Behind him, Testarossa, Ultima, and Carrera stepped out, looking satisfied and glowing with new power.
The three primordials exchanged glances, then smiled in unison.
The investment had paid off.