Tied down. My arms stretched above my head, aching in their relentless restraint. Panic as I take in my surroundings. I’m in what looks like a large cave, the walls made of black volcanic rock. Rivulets of lava seep down through numerous cracks in the surrounding walls, cooling and hardening, adding to the texture of the cave.

The heat makes me sweat uncontrollably, beads of it roll down my face. My tongue is a desert, every swallow painful. The air is acrid, stinking of sulphur and smoke. Every breath is torture in my lungs, making them burn with an evil intensity. The platform I’m lying on seems to be made of the same rock as the walls, hard and lumpy, digging into my back.

Rusted iron shackles encircle my wrists and ankles, pinned into the volcanic rock with nails as thick as my forearm. I yank at them, jerking my feet up and flinging my arms down, praying that one of the nails will break loose. I grimace at the effort, baring my teeth and hissing as the movement causes my dry lips to split. I lick at the blood and find temporary relief as it wets my throat, only to have my thirst return with a vengeance when what little saliva I have managed to produce also evaporates. My breathing becomes more ragged, more laboured as I start to hyperventilate, struggling to get a full breath.

The panic overwhelms me and I pull at my chains like a madwoman, screaming, sobbing, desperate cries. One last powerful kick with my bound legs and although the shackles rip open the skin on my ankles, I am free! Well, almost. The peg holding my legs down flies free and clangs loudly against the floor. I stop screaming and slow my breathing down, thinking hard.

Still unable to sit up, I slide my legs off the rocky table. My arms protest as the awkward new angle puts even more strain on them. Taking a deep breath, I brace against the pain and pull my arms down as hard as possible. I shriek in agony as this almost rips my arms out of their sockets. Panting hard, I take a small break and try to come up with a new plan.

Inspiration strikes again and I slide further off the table, ignoring the throbbing in my arms. Soon I am crouching on the ground, my arms and half my back still on the table. Twisting my body to the left, turning back towards the slab of rock, I manage to get on my knees. Small relief for my arms now as they stretch before me, still attached to the rock, chain tangled. I grasp at the chain and pull with all my strength, but this pin does not budge.

I’m still pulling, hoping I’ll get lucky like I did with the first pin when I feel the ground begin to tremble.

Fear steals my breath away as sharp cracking and deep rumbling sounds resonate from the wall behind me. In my terror I scramble as quickly as my still chained feet allow, taking small desperate steps around the head of my stone slab. I end up on the opposite side, watching the rumbling wall – now in front of me – and using the stone as a shield.

I have no idea what will happen next and this fear of the unknown has my heart fluttering like a caged bird in my chest. The cracking and rumbling gets louder and with it I watch in horror as large fissures form on the wall, a red light and more heat emanating from them.

I’m inside a volcanic crater then? Placed here by some ancient deluded tribe as a human sacrifice no doubt. Or maybe just a typical psycho killer, who’s invented a whole new sick way to torture and kill his victims? Fucking bastard, too lazy to do the job himself. Whoever put me here must have wanted me to die being eaten alive by the lava of a volcanic eruption and they won’t have to wait very long from the looks of things.

I pull frantically at my bonds again, each thunderous new crack causing my heart to leap. Finally as the first dribbling of new lava spews forth from the cracks, I stop struggling. Where would I go anyway? With my shackled wrists and ankles, I wouldn’t get to an exit on time. I can’t even see one now that I think about it, all the walls that surround me – apart from the cracking one – are either completely closed off or holding back a reservoir of magma.

I don’t want to die, I’m still so young. I’ve never been kissed, never been loved. I will never finish college, never get married or have children and as much as I wish with all my heart that I was away from here, free to live out a long and happy life, I can’t see a way out.

Bitter tears stream down my face as I wonder whether one can still go to heaven even if they’ve died in hell.

I close my eyes and bury my face in my outstretched arm as I wait for the lava to bury the rest of me. The wall has begun to hiss now and all the sounds that emanate from it drown out my sobs and the thumping of my heart.

Silence, as sudden and alarming as that first rumble. Has the eruption stopped? Been plugged up somehow? Do I have more time? I dare not hope, paranoid that God is just toying with me, that the lava is already flowing towards me, unstoppable and unmerciful. Only one way to find out.

I open my eyes and see that while there is a small amount of lava it has pooled by a large opening in the cave! It’s almost as if the wall became liquid again and melted into the opening. I release a shriek of excited disbelief which morphs into a scream of terror as something walks through the doorway.

It is a huge humanoid creature, standing at seven feet. Black skin, nothing like the dark brown skin of humans but true black, the absence of colour, accented by red markings and contrasting against white hair. It – he – is all muscle, hard and defined, his entire body exposed, manhood and all.

His hair is long and braided loosely, falling past his shoulders. His pubic area is also covered in thick white hair with fine streaks of it running along his arms legs and torso. A long arrowed tail flicks this way and that as he spots me behind my rock. His eyes are a sulphurous yellow, with red irises and darker red pupils.

I meet his gaze and flinch at its intense fury. All my theories about my predicament fly out the window as I am captured by that gaze. I was right about one thing though. This is hell. And I’m staring at the devil himself.

When he speaks it’s not to me but rather to another creature, cowering at his feet. I hadn’t noticed it until now. It is small and ugly, hunched over like an old crone, a drooling, festering mess. An imp, I can only assume. Unrelenting anger as the demon turns on his servant.

“I believe I ordered you to bind the girl.” he snarls, eyes blazing down at his slave.

The creature bows down even lower, snivelling and trembling with fear.

“Yes, my Lord. I complied as you wished but-“

He doesn’t finish. The demon lord grabs him by the throat and slams him into the cave wall.

“If you had truly done as I commanded, then tell me why my prisoner is not still shackled!”

The creature in his hold chokes against the demon’s hand, unable to draw a breath to answer. I lower my head down further behind my stone table. Still watching the disturbing pair, I hope that the imp will keep his master busy and distracted from me. I haven’t failed to notice his casual mention of me as his prisoner. The stench of burning flesh invades my nostrils and I gag as I realize that the molten hot wall is cooking the body if the helpless imp. My heart races as I duck lower and clamp my noisy mouth shut.

The demon’s head whips around and I feel his scorching gaze on me again. He rips his burned servant free of the wall causing it to squeal in anguish. Dropping the creature to the ground he takes a slow, deliberate step towards me. My heart jumps in my throat. This can’t be happening! I need to wake up from this horrible nightmare. He speaks to me, his voice deep and terrible but beautiful nonetheless.

“Do not be afraid dear one, for I shall not harm you. Intentionally.”

A whimper escapes my lips as I watch him get ever closer, all the while trying in vain to escape or hide behind my rock. Soon he is standing above me and I am cowering before him, my forehead pressed into my arm and my body racked with sobs.

“Please.” I beg, “What do you want with me? Please let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone. Please, God help me.”

“God?!” the demon laughs, “I am sorry my lovely, but your god has abandoned you. You belong to me now, and as my property, you have my word that no harm shall befall you. I am Asmodeus.”

Asmodeus! The words would have been kind if not for the ‘you belong to me’ and ‘my property’ bits. Oh yeah, and if it were not for the fact that I  am being held against my will, chained against a rock, talking to the lust devil and facing god knows what else. I look up at him.

“If you’re not going to harm me then why tie me up? What do you want with me?”

“Well my dear, to be blunt, I want your body and your womb. I need a bride who will bear me healthy offspring, unlike this vile wretch.” he looks at the groaning imp as my world explodes and my gut tightens.

“No!” I scream, “Anything but that! Please!”

“Now, now my pet,” he soothes, crouching down and reaching out with his clawed hand. “it will be pleasurable, give it time and soon…” his fingers caress my face, “you will be…” they trail down my neck and I feel… “begging” a ripple of pleasure… “to have me take you…” surge through my core… “again” my breathing stops, “and again” his touch is like electricity, “and again.” I gasp as I feel his nails on my breasts.

Suddenly, he grabs the chain trapping me and rips it out of the stone. Startled I give a small cry as he uses the shackles to haul me to my feet. Without another word he drags me towards the opening in the wall from which he emerged, side-stepping his vile servant. Stumbling and struggling to keep up with his long strides I hobble along quietly, afraid of incurring his wrath, despite his assurances of my safety.

He leads me through the opening in the wall, walking through the melted lava. Surprisingly, this does not burn my bare feet. The demon’s way of “protecting” me I suppose. Beyond us is a long tunnel, a red light glowing at its end. The demon does not speak as he pulls me along and I do not try to run. Where would I go anyway? Back to the cave? I don’t think that would be wise. Instead I follow silently, watching the creature in front of me with a morbid fascination.

Now that I can see him clearly I notice that his skin isn’t black, but rather a mixture of colours, blues, browns and reds all swirling together, a moving masterpiece right there in his skin. The red markings seem to be tattoos of sorts; I can see the slight raise in his skin where they reside. Even his hair is different, not white but pure silver, with a metallic sheen. Thick arms and muscles everywhere make me shiver as I imagine them touching my body. He hears the change in my breathing and looks back at me with a throaty chuckle.

“All in good time little one. I know what you crave, it will not be long now.” he flashes me a wickedly charming grin and I shiver again, this time out of disgust.

At him or myself, I am not sure.

I bow my head low, staring at my feet and he turns back around, not once slowing his pace.

Finally, after that uncomfortable walk, we reach the end of the tunnel and I am amazed to find that we’re in a large cavern, at least five times bigger than my cave with archways leading to other caves spread out along the walls. This room is cooler than my cave and my relief is instant. A large bed dominates the centre of the cavern, not in just size but also grandeur, four poster with a beautifully intricate wrought iron frame. In front of it sits an equally opulent leather and iron throne. That is the only way to describe it. Normal seats look nothing like that.

The demon unshackles me, freeing my wrists and ankles from their chains. I rub my raw wrists and hiss as the salt from my sweaty palms causes them to burn. Asmodeus looks down at me and I quake when he takes my hands in his. Lifting them to his mouth, baring sharp canines, he licks away the blood from my torn wrists. The itching burn is soothed instantly and the pain disappears, along with my wounds. The creature has healed the sores. Dropping my hands he pushes me forward into the crowded room keeping a firm hand on my shoulder.

Milling about the cavern are more imps and lesser demons. Some are noticeably male, others female and yet others still, which are impossible to define. None of them have noticed us. Some add to the cave art which decorate the walls, carving images or painting them. Looking closely at one of the older paintings, all a dark drown colour, I realize that the paint they’re using is blood. I shudder and look away only to catch sight of one demon capture a demoness and force himself on her, much to leering of the others.

Soon her screams resonate and echo in the giant cave mixed in with the gibbering of the other vile creatures occupying it. I close my eyes and begin to sob, dreading the moment when I will be violated as she is. As soon as the sound escapes my throat all eyes are on me. Even the rapist demon stops his frantic thrusting to stare at me. All sounds stop and the cave is deathly quiet save for the occasional whimper from the demoness.

Asmodeus looks down at me again and his face clouded with fury. Letting go of my shoulder he stalks toward the rapist demon while the others cringe away in horror. The creature lowers his head in fear as his master approaches and withdraws from the female.

“Forgive me your majesty; it was not my intention to offend you.”

Asmodeus curls his lips in disgust and picks up the demon by his hair.

“Yet here you are,” he replies, “offending me still, by offending my new bride.”

Gasps throughout the cave, all eyes rest on me again and I duck my head in shame. The demon king takes no notice and throws the weaker demon across the room. He crashes in a heap at the far end of the cave. Asmodeus returns to me and lifts my chin up with his fingertips.

“You do not look down to them my dear; it is they who should bow down to you. BOW!!” the sudden outburst makes me jump and then I realize that he is speaking to his followers. They drop to their knees instantly, their heads dipped low.

“Now leave, all of you.” he dismisses them with a wave, not taking his eyes off me or his fingers from my face. “My mate and I have business to attend.” He stares deep into my eyes as he says it, his own eyes full of promise.

This causes me to shudder. Disgust or… Desire?

His servants leave without another word — one of them scooping up the rapist along the way — exiting through the passageways to the other caves. When they leave and I am alone with the demon king, he finally lets me go. Turning away from me he raises his arms from his sides slowly. The earth trembles as all the exits seal themselves, trapping me inside the cavern. With him. And his monstrous bed.

When he turns back towards me I can see the difference in his eyes instantly. If that wasn’t enough to signal the inevitable, the evidence of his arousal now stands tall and proud. There is no way he expects that to fit inside me!

His hungry eyes rove over my curvy body and suddenly, the material of my oversized sleeping shirt is way too short. I pull down at it, forcing it to stretch and cover more of my bare thighs. My erect nipples strain against the cotton and I lick my lips nervously, trying to come up with a new plan, watching him watching me. He groans and takes a step forward. I try to move back but my body is frozen in place. His fiery eyes are mesmerizing and lose myself in them and my own overwhelming need. He moves ever closer and each step increases my own lust. Instead of horror I feel only desire. In my befuddled brain, slaking this hunger for the flesh is all I think about, all I can possibly fathom while I stare into his eyes.

Soon we’re standing chest to chest, him looking down at me and me looking up at him. I can feel his arousal pressing against my side and for a moment I panic, a stray thought running desperately across my mind. What is he doing to me?

I break the gaze between us and start to turn away but then he pulls my face back up to his and kisses me. The kiss is slow and intoxicating, drawing me back under his lustful haze. My lip itches briefly and I feel the cut that was there knit shut. He lowers his hands and pulls my body closer to his. I can feel his large, strong fingers press into my hips while my breasts smash against his hard chest. My hands snake up his neck and my fingers tangle in his metallic hair. My breathing is shallow from the kiss and my building pleasure. By the time we break apart, I am gasping. Smiling down at me with that predator’s smile of his, he runs his right hand lower down by hip and grasps the back of my right thigh firmly, his muscled forearm supporting my left side. Sliding his left hand further up, he stops at my back and pulls me even closer. Lifting me up, he carries me over to his enormous bed.

I moan with the thought of what’s to come, my own need rising higher and higher, swelling in my sex and crashing in my breasts. With surprising gentleness, he lays me down on the warm velvet sheets, hovering over me, trapping me there with his gaze. I look up at his face and am taken by how dangerously beautiful he is, his strong jaw line, sensual lips and blazing eyes. Strands of his silver hair escape their confines and frame his face, the tips of them lightly brushing my cheeks.

“Beautiful.” he sighs, just as I am thinking it.

“It amazes me that I will be the first to take you. I would have thought, given your beauty another would have claimed you earlier.”

My face burns with a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude, unused to being called beautiful.

“Oh yes, my beloved, I know all about you. Everything you have done… and everything you have not.” He smiles at me with that knowing look and I shift slightly, uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

“No need to be ashamed my lovely, it is actually quite commendable that you resisted the charms of my sin, not many can boast that. You look surprised. Surely you do not still think that you are inadequate in some way? Your insecurities stem from no-one other than yourself. You feel that the proof of your beauty is measured by the amount of attention you receive from the opposite sex. Am I right? I assure you it is not, and even if it were so, you would have realized that men do lust after you if it not for the fact that you were buried by your own self doubt. You are beautiful, there is no doubt. And as for these curves you hate so much,” he squeezes my hip, “I find them decidedly delicious.”

Stunned, I grasp for a reply to such a speech. Never in all my life has anyone understood me so completely, rooting through my deepest insecurities and banishing them with a few charming words. I don’t know whether to express my gratitude, weep, or kiss him. I consider the gratitude option until I realize that thanking him would be admitting he was right. The more private part of me protests against this. After all, a girl’s got to have some secrets. Instead of sounding grateful, the first thing that comes out of my mouth is defensive and feeble.

“If you supposedly know so much about me, then how come you never use my name when you speak to me?” the thought annoys me further and suddenly my feeble argument makes sense.

I continue hotly.

“What’s with all the ‘lovely’, ‘beautiful’, ‘pet’ and ‘dear one’ crap? Been reading too many romance novels? I thought you were supposed to be the demon of lust for Christ sakes.” I don’t know when it happened but suddenly my lust was replaced by anger and then something else, something that has been suppressed since Asmodeus first looked at me.

That old fear strikes up again and I regain some of my sanity, breaking free from the grip of his spell. I start to push against his chest, fighting to get out from under him. I freeze when I hear a deep rumble in his chest against mine, fearing retaliation of some sort. I hear a throaty chuckle and flinch as a dark hand reaches for my face. Capturing my chin in his fingers, the demon king tilts my head up and I am forced to look into his eyes again. The instant my brown eyes meet his red ones; I shed my fear once again and feel a bolt of pure pleasure course through my body. My lust has returned with a vengeance and I moan with longing. His chuckle expands into a full blown laugh, loud and deep.

“Now now, patience dear one. You asked a few questions and I intend to answer,” his smile is cruel and enthralling, “I told you that I know all of you, your mind as well as your body, so of course I know your name. My dear Selena, as to the reason I give you pet names, it is simple. You are my bride and I feel affection toward you, evident if the fact that had anyone else spoken to me as you just did, I would have had their head mounted on a pike. As for your last question, you have guessed correctly, I am the same, Asmodeus, demon of lust and prince of the third level of hell. Nothing but my power over you and your desire is keeping you from swooning with shock in reaction to all I have revealed.”

In the back of my mind I feel the shock he mentioned, fighting to gain control of my thoughts. It is blanketed by the lusty mist still swarming around in my head, clouding my judgment, making me pant like a bitch in heat when I should be screaming bloody murder. I know this, but I can’t break free and even worse, my body doesn’t want me to.

I grab his hands, still braced on either side of my torso, holding him steady over my body. I run my palms up his hard forearms, delighting in the contrast between his steel muscles and soft hair. Further up my hands go, caressing his biceps, squeezing his shoulders, my fingers running lightly along his neck. I slide a hand up further still, feeling the smooth sculpture that is his jaw, the soft contours of his mouth and the sharp point of a cheek bone. My other hand rises past his face and twines into his hair again. Suddenly I am gripping a fistful of that silver hair and pulling his face toward mine. This kiss has something more to it, not just lust but also… Passion? Am I falling for a demon?

His body is crushed against mine, one arm resting on its elbow and the other free to roam the unconquered regions of my body. I feel that arm sliding down, the hand brushing against my heaving breast, running along the soft cotton covered flesh of my abdomen and caressing my inner thigh. My breath catches and is released from my lungs as a moan of yearning as I feel him pull up the hem of my nightshirt. A flash of terror flits through my mind again and I break our fervent kissing. His hands stop moving. When he looks down at me, his eyes hold no power. He isn’t forcing me this time, just staring at me with an intense tenderness I would never have thought could possibly stem from a demon. He doesn’t say a word, just looks at me with those severe eyes, body still coiled in anticipation. But waiting, still waiting. For what? Me?

The realization hits me abruptly and I feel a strange warmth spread through me which has nothing to do with lust. I lick my lips nervously and give him a small nod, answering his silent question, not wanting to disrupt this moment with words. Would he have waited even longer had I said no? Would he have let me go? I don’t ask. Instead I arch my hips toward his, feeling his manhood press against my exposed thigh while he gives a small growl of approval and continues to lift up one of the material barriers between us. He draws his face close to mine and after he starts kissing me again he rips my nightshirt away, tearing it apart to get to me. My exposed breasts heave and fall, catching his attention. He pulls away from my lips, and runs his tongue over a hardening nipple causing a current of electricity to flow from it to my aching core.

Moaning, I cling more desperately to him as he bites gently on one nipple, caressing my other breast with his still wandering hand. All the while I feel his chiselled thigh slip between my soft ones, spreading my legs ever so slowly. Both my hands are in his hair, moving with his head as he services my firm bosom. If actual sex is supposed to feel better than this, I don’t know how I will be able to handle it. Surely one cannot die from too much pleasure?

Dizzyingly exquisite pleasure threatens to overwhelm me. My heart races as it struggles to make sense of these new sensations. I’m not a nun. Just because I’m still a virgin doesn’t mean I don’t know about sex or have never experienced an orgasm. Alone in my room some nights I would take to pleasuring myself, playing with my clitoris until I came to my release. The first few times I tried this I came so close to going over the edge but stopped myself, for fear of the unknown and too intense sensations. When I finally plucked up the courage to let go and ride my first wave of complete pleasure, it was glorious. My heart beat hummingbird fast while my little nub pulsed in time with it; each new twitch sending shockwaves through my entire being. It’s been a long time since my first encounter with that kind of pleasure and while I still occasionally play with myself, I have yet to experience that kind of utter bliss since. Until now.

Now, under the lust demon’s careful tuning, my body tenses like it did that first time. That fear of too much pleasure, of what will happen to me should I cross the line or jump off the cliff to my release, surfaces again. My breath is thick in my throat, my heart thundering as waves of ecstasy roll through me. I can feel my completion building, each new sensation piling on top of the other. Absently, I am aware still of Asmodeus’ soft tongue, sharp teeth and rough hands ravaging my breasts. The feelings are the source of my paradise but work so well that I am disjointed from them, the pleasure is all I suffer and I feel it getting stronger.

Stop… I am afraid like my first time, frightened that the release will be more than I can endure.

No! Keep going! Another part of me screams. My body tenses and I huff, unable to breathe through the thickness in my throat. Ahh… ahh…… almost…

He pulls away from me.

NO!

I breathe hard and groan with frustration. I was right there! One second longer and I would have plunged into the deep end, been drowning in pleasure. Just one second longer! Catching my breath, I feel the intense pleasure ebb away from me all too quickly, leaving me panting, twitching… livid.

I glare up at the demon, who has been watching me since he denied me my liberation. That wicked lovely smile is back and before I can utter a single syllable, he lowers his head down and kisses me again. Still furious, I push him back.

“Why the fuck did you stop?” the words escape before I realise how dangerous they are.

Looking more amused than angry, gives my tender nipple a little pinch, eliciting a whimper from my swollen lips.

“I ceased my love, because I want you to climax only, when I am buried deep within you.” He whispers this in my ear, sending a shudder through my bones.

His hand skims down again, away from my abused breasts. They glide smoothly against the bare skin of my torso coming to rest at the hem of my panties. He hooks a finger under the elastic waist, and twists his hand around so that I can now feel the same finger lightly caressing the black curls underneath. More fingers join the first until his whole hand is trapped between the cotton of my underwear and the curly dander surrounding my sex. One of the demon’s fingers slips further down as he spreads my legs wider with his thigh.

His hot finger presses gently against my clit. The intense heat feels amazing against my sensitive flesh and creates a cascade of satisfaction starting at my groin, surging outward, sending that wonderful heat to my fingertips and toes.

Continued in Part Two… Please log on and leave a comment!

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