Page 19 of Hell and Its Pleasures

“Yes,” I said, and the three of us shivered as the air in the church shifted. “Yes, make me a creature of lust.”

The taller one leaned forward and kissed my neck. Both its tongues slid over my body, and its four hands roamed, teasing at my nipples, pulling at my hair. The other creature reached up and pressed it hands against the cheeks of my ass.

It spread them open.

Spread me open for devouring.

I flinched away, jolting back, but of course there was nowhere to go. It cooed to me, told me to calm; that it would ruin me in due time, but that there were other sensualities I had yet to experience.

It pressed forward into the cleft of my ass with its tongue outstretched. I felt its warm exhale drift over my skin. And then it licked.

I whimpered.

This was—worse. Worse than anything I had experienced. Panic flared in me, and I jolted away from the demons warm tongue, but it pressed hard. My back gave out as I tried to jump away, still folded upwards and impossibly exposed. An ache spasmed through my neck—I couldn’t get away.

“Please”, I said. “Please stop.”

It only laughed. “This is for you. This is your pleasure.”

Which it was. And itdidfeel good. But in me there was aresistance, a disgust, a rejection. I realised I had never fantasised about this kind of lust. In my mind, I had always been had; fucked mercilessly, used for someone else’s pleasure. I found it was so much easier to have it taken than to receive it. So much easier to be used and used without mercy. I could conceive of a world where I was nothing but meat to be fucked, a set of holes for cocks to slide in and out of. I could be used until my body gave out and that would make sense to me. I could find pleasure in that degradation.

But for something to try and givemepleasure? I had never felt so guilty. I had never felt so—wrong.

My cheeks burned with infernal flame. Both demons moved slowly, the first with its roaming hands, fingers gently circling my nipples, plucking at them, and then slowly sucking, each tongue long enough to reach both simultaneously. The pleasure pulsed down through my body as if everything was interconnected: touching the nipples felt the same as touching my cock. This, combined with the consistent roll of the other’s tongue over and into my hole, made me hard in seconds, straining high and leaking precum with such intensity it appeared like I had never touched myself before now. I squeezed my eyes shut like that would be enough to block out the indecency, but two hands pressed against my face and a voice whispered—commanded—“Open.”

It sounded like Asmodeus.

I opened my eyes immediately. Reflected in the iris of the taller demon, I saw it; it loomed distended, speaking through the eyeball, in the same form Asmodeus had taken when it had first come to me. I saw it sitting on a throne surrounded by flames, the heat dancing in the eyes of the lesser pawn that debauched me now. I knew an order when I heard it.

I kept my eyes open.

The taller of the demons saw my determination as my expression settled, and it laughed at me, opened mouth andgleeful. “Do not think so highly of yourself,” it warned me just as the other one pulled its mouth from me; I felt it leave a slick trail of saliva behind, my hole shamefully wet. Hands pulled my ass apart, long-nailed thumbs digging in with desire. One hand moved and a spit-slick thumb pushed inside. I bucked forward with a groan, and the taller demon’s clawed hand latched onto my cheeks.

“Ah—” Pain seared through the meat of my cheeks and my mind went gloriously blank. If I closed my eyes, I was once again being had by Asmodeus.

The demon spat on me. I closed my eyes just as warm saliva spattered over my face.

“You are nothing more than a wet hole and a warm mouth. For us, for a hundred other demons to use—you are our broodmare. A cocksleeve. You are not special to a king of Hell, the Prince of Lust.”

I groaned. Halfway between shame and arousal, those words made my cock jump. I locked eyes with the taller, trying to maintain some semblance of composure as its spittle dribbled down my stinging cheeks, and its brethren fucked in and out of me with its thumb. I squirmed and grunted, and wanted to close my eyes—God, how I wanted to look away, to enjoy this without shame

“Say it,” the demon growled.

“I am your cocksleeve.”

A tail whipped over the underside of my thighs, once, twice, three times. I writhed. Pain—pain sharp and bright and stinging—made me yelp and scream. A confused mix of pleasure and pain collided in my brain as the other’s demons thumb kept working in and out of me. It had me squirming. More—that was what I wanted. They called me their cocksleeve but teased me so torturously with only a thumb and the sharp whip of a tail. I wanted them to prove it. I wanted them to split me over their cocks, the pair of them; I wanted to bebroken and pathetic and whimpering for more. If they were going to fuck shame out of me, then I needed to forget God. I needed sex to be my religion, an altar I could worship at, or be fucked over, communion the gift of their cocks on my tongue.

I said: “You better ruin me. The both of you—soon. I want?—”

A sharp slap to the face. My head lurched to the side and a thin line of drool dripped from my mouth as I bit down hard on my tongue. Neither of them let up, one still finger-fucking me and the other whipping at my red raw flesh. I quivered, whole body tense.

“What you want,” one said, their words punctured by the whiplash sounds and my answering whimpers, “does not fucking matter.”

I don’t recall how long they kept me like that. My body shined with a layer of sweat so thick my back slid against the crucifix as I bucked and rolled my hips. Fingers began to scissor my hole open, and then the way Asmodeus had done, the taller one’s tail pushed inside me. At the same time, its dual tongues lapped over my swollen cock.

“A…fuck. . .”

It came out like a sob. I had never experienced pleasure even close to this. On the back of a stinging pain, with demons grinning at my stifled pleas, I felt myself straining against the nails in my feet, urging myself to spread my legs even wider.

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