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When Daddy Noc fell into hell, it wasn’t to suffer
 it was to dominate.

His body, beastly and fur-covered, glowed under the purple light of demonic fire, marked with runes burning on his skin. Curved horns, a thick tail, that filthy grin full of fangs
 but the wildest thing was what he kept under those ripped jeans: a huge, hot, throbbing cock with no mercy.

He wasn’t a fallen angel anymore. He was a fucking sex machine.

He pounded relentlessly every soul that crossed his path—against the walls of the underworld, on shattered altars, with chains wrapped around his wrists and his body dripping with sweat and others' moans. His demonic tail curled around his victims’ necks, made them beg
 and when he growled “call me daddy,” all of hell came with him.

Daddy Noc doesn’t punish you.He makes you beg for more.

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