Page 21 of Hell and Its Pleasures

Not enough to forget who I was. Not enough to forget wholly where I had come from. But enough that, as they impaled me, my head tingled so intensely that I lost all meaning except for this act. And by the time they were all the way inside, cocks twitching and pushing up into my guts, and I was rendered nothing more than a vessel for their pleasure, my mind and body had accepted its fate.

I felt with an almost intrinsic glee that I had been born for this.

I had been made completely immobile. The position they had me in meant I was pathetically exposed. Easy to stretch. Like that, I knew how I must have looked. Pink cheeks, flushed to red. Sweat pooling and dripping down my chest, my hair a ragged mess. With my limbs forced above me, I hung weakly and open. I could offer no resistance; I was a hole to be used without end; I could die here and not impede their pleasure. Fear jolted through me and turned to a corrupted kind of pleasure—I was nothing but a piece of fuck meat, and whether I wanted this or not, they would take me.

They fucked into me. I knew I was warm and wet and tight, opening more and more with every out of sync thrust. They each fucked forward independently, so at every second an entire length of cock was inside me, and every second I had no break, I could barely contain myself.

Both took advantage of the angle, so they could move in me at the same time, and they thrust uphard?—

“Go—”

Old habit overcame me. I flung my head back, biting off the last of the sacrilege. I would not call to God. Not anymore.

“Hn—”

Pain buckled and gave way to a pleasure so profound, every thrust felt like they were touching the back of my brain. I felt so whollyhad, so gloriously used, and my body melted into a sexual oblivion.

No more fighting. No more resisting.

I ground my hips back and they laughed up into me.

“That’s it.”

“Entertain us, little lamb. Show us what you have abandoned your God for.”

I could barely do anything but thrust weakly, but I did what I could, groaning and begging. My pleads were little more than incoherent whimpers, the occasional completepleaseslipping through the flurry of incomprehensible moans.

One of the four-armed demon’s hands made its way to my mouth. Silently, it urged me to suck on its clawed fingers, but it kept pressing deeper and deeper until I was gagging on its slick digits. Its thumb grabbed the underside of my jaw and held on as it pumped into my ass. I bit down and it made no reaction except to move its hips faster, harder—until I was gurgling a scream into its hand, my eyes lost in the heavens.

“Fuck—fu..”

The church smelled of sex. Like an unholy incense, it spread cloyingly to every corner; the smell of precum, of sweat, of the demonic sulphur and whatever naturally left my body. Condensation fogged the stained-glass windows and the light dimmed. I could see nothing but their panting faces. I was nothing beyond this moment, which stretched out the way myhole stretched, destroyed so completely I could never be anything more than this.

I start to lose consciousness before they were even done milking me. Slipping in and out of this blissed out state, I know they used me for hours, until all resistance was gone and I was broken.

I came suddenly, and more than once, spilling into the air, and later jerking, releasing nothing from the tip. But they had none of a human’s limitations.

When they came, the first time, I thought I would burst. I felt the warm splatter inside me, and groaned from that unique pleasure. Only the fluid didn’t stop.

I waited, and moaned in waiting, and when still they showed no sign of stopping, I panicked. I flung my head forward, because their come had splattered deeper into me now, and for the first time in my life I could feel something traveling to my stomach from the opposite end.

I squirmed. Panic made me jolt and writhe, and they both laughed and kept me still, even as my stomach began to grow distended, bloating with their cum. Hanging as I was, I could see the definitive rise of swollen belly

“Fucking cow,” one said. It cupped my chest, ran a hand over my aching belly, and returned to thumb my nipple, twisting as it spoke. I jolted and moaned. This demon, the shorter of the two, slipped its cock from me slowly. I watched its wet cock flop down between its legs. “You look so good like that, little lamb. So pretty.”

The discomfort didn’t let up. I rolled my hips over the remaining cock in me. This demon locked me in place with its four hands and grinned, sliding its softening cock in and out a miniscule amount. That motion was enough to slosh the cum in my belly, and I whimpered.

“Pl—please,” I whispered, but I didn’t even know what I wanted.

“You want release?” the demon above me cooed.

The other moved close to lick at my ear. It sucked on my lobe and opened its breathy mouth to whisper, “How long can you keep our loads inside you?”

I flushed. I didn’t know. It was uncomfortable. My skin strained, and stomach ached. But the thought of being forced to hold the semen of demons, to carry loads so large they had deformed my stomach, made my cock twitch once again back to life.

The smaller demon moved to work both its hands up and down my shaft painfully slowly. I gasped and thrust, hole still plugged tight by the other demon’s cock. I can’t recall how many times I came that day, but it was enough that every stroke of the demon’s hands felt at once pleasurable and aching. My poor spent cock came quickly, with only a trickle of translucent cum to show for it, and I was riding that final blissful wave, the taller demon slid itself from my hole with a wet plop.

It wasn’t immediate. For seconds my hole twitched and clenched over nothing but air. But then I felt the warm cum leaking out of me. The demons watched, and the church had fallen so silent we could all hear the plap of cum dripping onto stone.

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