Chapter One: A Hell of an Introduction

DANIEL

The crisp November air tickled my face, filling my nostrils with the pungent tang of decay only autumn could bring. The dried maple leaves crunched beneath my feet with each footfall, most of them browned past their red majesty. Indeed, almost all the trees were bare, with only a few stubborn elms clinging to the remnants of their yellowing canopies. It was that period after Halloween and before thanksgiving where Iowans were trying to decide if it was too early to set up Christmas decorations. That time of year where you’re not quite sure if you should wear a jacket or a sweatshirt. Unfortunately for my little sister, she’d chosen a t-shirt and panties.

“Don’t take it out yet!” Emily lamented from behind the screen door.

“You want raccoons?” I asked with a raised eyebrow, “Because this,” I hoisted the carved pumpkin up, “this is how you get raccoons.”

“But I worked so hard on it! Just leave it out for two more days!” Emily insisted. I glanced at the jack-o-lantern, whose face was an odd shape of close-together eyes, a rectangular nose, and a semicircular mouth that bore no space for the upper-lip.

“You worked so hard on this?” I asked with an incredulous eyebrow.

“It’s my masterpiece.” Emily nodded sincerely.

“It’s a penis.”

“And it’s such a very good penis.” Emily grinned, “Just keep it out for a little bit!”

“Is this want you want Mom to see when she walks up the steps?” I asked.

“Oh, Mom will think it’s hilarious, you know that.” Emily waved a hand.

“Why is this the hill you’re choosing to die on?”

“Because my asshole boss scheduled me for Halloween night, and I missed it!” Emily snapped, “You got to go out as an ironic piece of bacon (‘haha, did you notice my name-tag says ‘Kevin?’’) while I was stocking tampons at Target! Now put that fucking pumpkin back, Dan, or you’ll wish raccoons were your worst problem!”

I scowled at Emily, running my eyes over her in a scrutinizing manner. She’d inherited Mom’s strawberry-blonde hair, which hung in disheveled waves from her pale face. A smattering of freckles touched her pointed nose and round cheeks, whose structure gave her portrait a girlish quality that was only complimented by her big, blue eyes and pouting, pale lips. Her chin drew to a point before the slender length of her neck, which in turn, drew to the delicate bones of her collar, whose pale surface was exposed to the shoulders above her cut t-shirt. The garment draped over her petite chest, the cold morning informing the world that Emily was not wearing a bra. The shirt cut off at her midriff, which was smooth and centered with a perfect navel above which two subtle lines drew inward toward her pelvis like beckoning paths, then disappeared beneath the waistband of her pink panties. Her thighs bore only the smallest gap between them, and thickened alluringly as they rose into the smiling crease of her gravity-defying ass.

“Daniel?” Emily asked, the soft inquiry of her voice shaking me from the moment. She peered at me from below that tangled curtain of strawberry-blonde hair, her blue eyes narrowing beneath a furrowing brow.

“Yeah.” I said awkwardly, bowing my head to hide my blushing cheeks, “Yeah, fuck it. I’ll just… I’ll just leave it here by the mailbox.” I clumsily put the pumpkin on the fence post, and hurried toward the street. I heard a yelp, then a splat. I stopped, and had a precious moment with which to take a deep breath, and ready myself for the shitstorm.

“You fucking asshole!” Emily squawked from behind the screen door, “You did that on purpose, I know you did!”

“It was an accident.” I said sardonically, exaggerating my shrug. It actually was an accident, of course, but anything was better than the truth in this moment. Emily’s pale cheeks flushed with anger, then the rest of her face followed suit. She growled, tore open the screen door, and marched after me. God, she was pretty when she was angry.

“Hey, Mrs. Johnson!” I called to the yard beside us.

“You think I’m falling for that shit again?!” Emily growled, her shoulders hunched, her arms straightening to balled fists beside her, “You are nineteen years old, Danny, and you still act like a fucking-”

“Hey Daniel, hey Emily!” Mrs. Johnson waved back from her yard, one elbow resting on her rake, “Good heavens, Emily, aren’t you cold?”

Emily skidded like a cartoon character, and froze in place with the most utterly defeated expression on her face. Her cheeks grew even redder than they’d been before, then she waved awkwardly at Mrs. Johnson, and sprinted back inside, the door slamming shut behind her. I followed her inevitable path to the upstairs window, where she and the house-cat glared at me with identical expressions of contempt from between the curtains. I gave them both a parting sneer, waved my salutations to the laughing old lady that lived next to us, and hopped into my truck.

“Fuck.” I sighed, dropping my head onto the headrest, “Too fucking close, Daniel. Jesus Christ, what the fuck is wrong with me?” I turned the truck over, and peeled out of there with a screech of rubber. Five minutes later, I was on the highway, driving like the accelerator had fucked my sister.

Instead of me. I thought grimly. I didn’t know why this had started happening. Emily and I were only a year apart, and it wasn’t like she’d grown tits and ass overnight. I’d never felt this way about her in high school, but the moment she moved in with me after her graduation, the thoughts just started coming, and they were only getting worse. What had once been glances had turned to full-blown eye-fucks, and simple musings had turned into full-throttle, choke-my-cock-until-I-hate-myself jerk-off sessions. Even now, the fantasies were coming to me, completely unbidden. Emily in a schoolgirl outfit, smiling coyly over her shoulder. Emily in a bathing suit, raising an eyebrow as she sneaks a suggestive finger beneath her shoulder strap. Emily in chains, pulled spread eagle onto the cross, staring at me from bulging eyes above a spit-coated ball-gag. I wrenched the steering wheel to the side, and barely missed the oncoming semi-truck. I swerved through three lanes of traffic, my tires screeching as I struggled to regain control of the vehicle. I finally managed to get on the shoulder, the fading blare of the semi’s horn echoing in my ears, a backdrop to the thundering of my heart, and the rapid intakes of breath.

“That’s it!” I exclaimed, “I’m going to therapy!”

EMILY

My Halloween costume was laid out where I’d put it yesterday, on my bed, waiting for me when I got off my shift. But fucking Ahmed had decided that we were understaffed in the pharmaceutical section, so instead of being a sexy sushi (and don’t worry, I’ll explain that in a second), I was dressed in khakis and a red polo. ‘Corporate slave’ didn’t have the same appeal as ‘sexy sushi,’ but I couldn’t discard my vocational outfit. Daniel had been paying the rent all by himself for two months straight, and I had to chip in. He was already burning through his savings just to make ends meet for us. He was too good to me.

“But he’s still a fucking asshole!” I huffed at the cat, and took her bored glare as a resounding agreement. I folded my arms, and pouted on the bed, glaring at my sexy sushi outfit. Funny-sexy was hard to pull off, but damnit, I did it this year. I fucking nailed it. The headpiece was a California Roll I’d made of foam and tissue paper, the brazier was a salmon color that evoked sashimi with a ‘rice’ frill at the top, and the skirt was a black garment meant to evoke maki, with a little embroidery on the crotch that said, ‘something smells fishy.’ It would’ve been glorious, but alas, it would never see the light of day.

“Well you know what, Cleo?” I prompted the cat, who glared up at me for interrupting her crotch-licking session, “I’m gonna wear it anyway. You and I will just have our own Halloween party! Yeah! Just you and me… just me and the cat… and I’m wearing a fucking sushi outfit that advertises my smelly pussy.” I sighed, and drooped my shoulders, “There’s a cat joke in there somewhere, Cleo, if you want to pick the low hanging fruit.” I mumbled. Cleo answered by licking her crotch.

I stripped to my birthday suit, grabbed my costume, and grumbled to myself as I began putting it on. I scowled when the brazier hung loosely from my chest. My ass was to die for, I knew, but my breasts left something to be desired. They were nice; B-cups and beautifully shaped, but I couldn’t help but feel like I’d been cheated. Mom had a chest that could act as a life raft in case of emergency.

“First-world problems, Em.” I told my reflection, then grabbed my tits, pushed them together, and tightened the corset. There; magic. Nobody knows the better until the outfit comes off, and by then, there’s no turning back. You’re mine, hypothetical male escapade, MINE! Mwhuahahahaha! I hoisted the skirt up my ass, pulled the stockings after, and stepped into the high-heels that forced my ample backside to bulge from atop my thighs. I took out my ‘I-suck-dick’ red lipstick, and applied it liberally and slowly to my parted lips.

“Would you fuck me?” I asked the mirror in my best Buffalo Bill impression, “I’d fuck me. I’d fuck me hard.” I felt good. I spun on my heel, and strutted toward the cat, who ironically did not appreciate my catwalk. Well, fuck her. I was sexy sushi, and sexy sushi don’t need no cat. I worked my shoulders as I marched lasciviously down the hallway, popping each hip, pretending I was parting the sea of people at a party, and all eyes were on me.

“That’s right, bitches.” I grinned at a poster of Lebron James, “Emily Huston just walked in, and all your thirsty boyfriends wanna get a drink of this pussaaaaAAAAAAAH!” And fate punished me for my hypothetical arrogance by making me forget there were stairs in front of me. I hit each step with a punctuation of breath, tumbling head-over-heels until I was sprawled in the kitchen, my skirt draped over my head, my beautiful California Roll headdress sacrificed to provide cushion for my stupid fucking brain. I lay there for a moment, exposed and in pain, wondering if dying was preferable to getting up from this. A fervent knock on the kitchen door confirmed that yes, dying was indeed the better option.

“Emily?!” Mrs. Johnson’s muted voice screamed from the other side of the glass door, “Oh my god, Emily, are you OK?”

You can kill me now, God. I thought grimly.

REBECCA

I knew I still had it. I was two years shy of forty, and had lived a life of drugs, unprotected sex, and worst of all, rampant tanning, but damn it, I still had it. My skin had hardly aged at all, my hair was still its luxuriant strawberry-blonde, and only the faintest stretchmarks marred my ample bust. I had an ass you could balance a wine bottle on, and I currently had it stuffed into the tightest pair of Levi’s money could buy. Genetics had been kind to me, but that wasn’t how I knew I still had the all-important “it.” No, my retention of “it” was confirmed by the eyes of the junior varsity football team, which seemed to be magnetized to my heart-shaped asset.

“Nothing like good genes, and good jeans.” Lucy chuckled next to me, her lips pursed around a cigarette. The two of us were leaning on a fence at the park, looking at the young bucks like we were still in high school. Of course, Lucy never went to high school; not as a student, anyway.

“I swear, the older I get, the younger I want ‘em.” I sighed to Lucy, taking a pull of my own cigarette, “At this rate, Chris Hansen’s going to be knocking on my door instead of you.”

“Is that how I make you feel, Becky?” Lucy grinned devilishly at me, which I guessed was the only way she could grin.

“You used to show up for fun, now you show up for favors.” I sighed.

“You owe me.” Lucy shrugged.

“I know.” I muttered. I owed her everything. I turned my forearm over, the entire length of it colored with tattoos. My whole body was, from ankle to neck, with a few spaces between the pieces, but not many. I’d gotten most of them almost two decades ago, but despite the sun exposure, none had faded. But it wasn’t the tattoos I was looking at; it was the scar that ran from wrist to elbow.

“Are you my friend, Lucy?” I asked her softly.

“I like to think I am.” Lucy said wrapping an arm around my waist, “I like to think we’re more than just that.”

I stared at her. She had wavy black hair that came together in a slight widow’s peak, a chiseled jaw, lush, red lips, and hazel eyes. Her cheekbones were so dramatic that I once wondered if they were prosthetic, and her brow seemed to dip slightly inward, giving her portrait a look of subtle menace. Below her portrait was a pale body of perfect curves and smooth flesh, and she displayed it generously in her plaid skirt and midriff-revealing shirt. She was beautiful, and still looked every-bit the teenager I’d known in high school. But it was all a lie.

“I feel like your toy.” I muttered. Lucy smiled broadly, her eyes alighting with mischievousness, and something darker. I knew the expression well, and it made my heart race. My eyes slackened to begging ovals, and I sank my teeth into my lower lip, signaling my want. Lucy’s hand snaked under my waistband, and a single, long finger trailed down the crack of me. Her touch was barely a caress, but it became the focal point of my very being. I felt the skin rise and prickle beneath her brushing fingertip, felt my body grow languid like it had been conditioned to, felt my pussy flush and drip with anticipation. My head fell forward, my breath caught, and I eased myself back, my spine arching behind me, my cheeks spreading in their denim constraints. Lucy’s breath was on my cheek, then on my mouth when I turned to face her. Her fingertip found the dirty aperture of me, and she slowly circled the rim. Oh, she knew my weaknesses. She knew them well.

“The football team is staring at us, Becky.” Lucy said, her eyes cast downward at me, an imperious, controlling stare, “They’re not even pretending to practice anymore. They’re all just staring at you while I tease your slutty little shithole.” Lucy’s lips brushed mine, but never pressed, “If you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll pull your pants down, and fist you in front of everyone.” She pushed her finger inside, my tightness uncoiling around her advance, then hugging her as she sank each knuckle. My head dropped in surrender, my mouth opened, and a low whine rose from me. Lucy’s parted lips breathed their covetous control on my neck, “You are my toy, Rebecca Huston. And you fucking love it.”

“Yes!” I gasped, bending further, pressing my breasts to the back of my hands, which grasped the fence before me. My shirt slid up my back with each inch I lowered myself, revealing the tattoos than ran alongside my spine. My glutes parted with the deepening bend, spreading as far as they could for Lucy’s invading finger. My anus seemed to hunger for the violation, my entire body teeming to be used, humiliated, and disgraced. I looked over my shoulder, and saw the gawking faces of the football team, their youthful complexions wrought with confusion and desire. Look at me, I thought, look at the debased whore who bends over for it in public. You can all have me. All at once. Make a bridge of my body and fill me until I spill continuously from my gaping holes.

You’re getting worse, Becky. Lucy’s voice echoed teasingly in my mind.

You made me like this! I mentally moaned back.

I made you to be so much more, but you’re coming along nicely. Lucy replied, the cruelty mixing with the affection in her tones.

Am I ready? I asked, giving her big, hopeful eyes, eyes wrought with vulnerability and submission, just like she wanted. Just like I wanted. Lucy smirked at me, her red lips pursing around a cigarette, the smoke tumbling slowly from them. I didn’t have to be told what to do. I unbuttoned my shirt with one hand, and pulled a breast free. A woman walking her dog stopped and gawked at me. A jogger did a double take, then slowed down to do the same. They watched me as I grabbed my breast, and tilted it so that the nipple faced Lucy. It was pink and erect, contoured with gooseflesh, circled with tattoos and pierced with a golden ring. It longed for the heat. Lucy pulled her cigarette from her lips, exhaled the smoke through her nostrils, then lowered the orange embers to my chest, and extinguished them on my presented nipple. I cried out, my voice wrought with delight and agony. Oh, the pain was absolutely exquisite. It seemed to burn a line from my tortured node to my defiled anus, both senses heightening the other, both senses only intensified by the thrill of my humiliation. She’d ruined me, ruined me long ago.

You’re almost ready. Lucy said, You just have to do one thing.

Anything! I mentally screamed, beyond desperate. I was undulating now, my hips rocking lecherously, my chest jutting forth before the deepening arch of my back.

“You have to give me your children.” Lucy breathed against me, her supple body pressing its tantalizing warmth, hinting at the pleasure it could provide. And the pain.

“No.” I whispered back, brow furrowing as I strained to keep control of my mind. The lust had my body completely, and the masochistic whore it compelled to the surface almost had the keys to the driver’s seat.

“No?” Lucy giggled, “I believe the contract you signed meant your soul belonged to me.”

“But not theirs!” I moaned, my hips rotating to the twist of Lucy’s finger, shifting to the will of the puppeteer.

“When you make a deal with the devil, you should know you’re going to get fucked, Becky.” Lucy put our foreheads together, and I watched her irises change from hazel to gold, and the pupils change from circles to reptilian slits.

“Why do you want them?” I asked, my mind hazing with pleasure.

“I’ll tell you when the time comes.” Lucy crinkled her nose, “I’ve always been one for theatrics, after all.”

“I’ll die for them.” I hissed hoarsely, my crotch damp.

“Oh, you will, Becky.” Lucifer licked my parted lips with her snake-like forked tongue, “But it’s too late to save them; they’re already waiting for us.” I didn’t see the knife that killed me.

DANIEL

The low fall sun had disappeared behind the clouds, dulling the view. Barren fields strewn with spent corn stalks blurred past me, the occasional derelict farmhouse interrupting the landscape. Interstate 80 was usually pretty busy at this time of day, but I hadn’t seen a car for miles. Not since my near-miss with the semi. The radio had gone dead, only playing static. Fucking antenna was malfunctioning again. I passed a billboard for a strip club, the sign peeling and faded from years of neglect. I could barely make out the image of a devil woman arching her back from a pole, with font meant to evoke neon below it. Welcome to Hell was the tagline for the venue, Located off exit 666.

“Huh.” I mused aloud, “There’s no exit 666. Those dumb fucks are gonna lose customers for that pun.”

Three miles later, I approached a road sign marking the upcoming rest stops and gas stations. Perdition Gentlemen’s Club, Beelzebub’s Burgers, The Inferno Inn, Brimstone Tires. Exit 666, all lanes.

“All lanes?!” I exclaimed, “Then it’s not a fucking exit, is it? Goddamn it, am I even on I-80 anymore? Of course not. No wonder there’s no fucking cars. Must’ve accidentally veered into an onramp when I missed that truck.”

I pulled onto the shoulder, and took out my phone. No signal, of course. This was starting to feel like a Stephen King novel. I sighed, and rummaged through my glovebox, trying to find the GPS.

“You lost, Sugar?” a sultry female voice asked from my window. I jolted upright, my heart blasting against my breastbone. She was leaning against my driver’s side door, a pair of hazel eyes staring amusedly, and a pair of pale tits barely concealed by a generous neckline.

“Nice cheekbones!” I stammered, my malfunctioning brain projecting the observation.

“Thanks, Sugar.” The woman winked, long lashes closing over her smirking eye. Holy shit, she was hot. No one would ever look at this brunette and say she was ‘beautiful,’ though she certainly was, but her posture, expression and attitude created an aura of sex so vulgar, that she could only be described as ‘hot.’

“Do you know how to get to I-80 from here?” I asked, realizing as I spoke that I was yelling each word.

“I can get you to where you need to go, if you give me a ride.” The woman grinned, displaying sparkling white teeth beneath lush, red lips. Oh, those lips had been in some naughty, naughty places, I could tell just by the evil quirk of her smile. There was a promise in her hazel eyes, a promise I knew she’d keep if I let her in, but I couldn’t. Mom had just gotten out of rehab again, and I needed to pick her up. If I abandoned her for my own desires, then I was no better than her, and I’d sworn I’d never be like her.

“I need to get to I-80.” I reaffirmed, more to myself than the woman.

“No, you don’t.” The brunette’s grin broadened.

“Excuse me?” I said, taken aback.

“Your Mom’s not waiting for you outside of Better Lives Rehabilitation Center.” The woman chuckled, then glanced down the highway, “She’s waiting for you there.”

I gawked wordlessly at the woman, then followed her gaze, and looked through my windshield. The highway lead down an immense decline that narrowed to the horizon, and the horizon was on fire. The sky was a great ceiling of rock, the clouds were black fumes spewed from calderas, and the landscape was a treachery of jagged peaks and sheer cliffs. All around the brimstone ground, naked bodies bathed in red light were writhing together in a horrific orgy, the debauchery stretching as far as the eye could see. The cracks of whips, the clanking of chains, the slaps of flesh and the rub of leather all created a terrible percussion beneath the droning symphony of screams and wails. And though the tones of the damned were agonized, they were also dripping with some terrible euphoria, some pleasure too great for mere vocal cords to exalt.

That truck killed me, didn’t it? I thought.

“It did.” She answered from the passenger’s seat. I looked to her, and wasn’t surprised at all to see a woman of black hair, crimson flesh, golden eyes, and onyx lips. Curved horns protruded from her wavy mane, her elegant spine continued into a tail above her succulent backside, and her eyes bore slit pupils. She licked her lips with a serpent’s tongue, then produced a cigarette, and lit it with a flick of her thumb.

“Drive.” The devil commanded softly. I didn’t feel like arguing.

“How did Mom die?” I asked as I shifted in gear. My beat-to-shit pickup had turned into Lamborghini Diablo, of course.

“She’s been on borrowed time for nineteen years. Now her debts are due.” The devil said, the smoke from her lips forming an inverted cross in the air.

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll find out.” The devil flashed her dazzling smile at me. The wheel jerked in my hand, and I let go, letting the overpowered super-car drive itself. The devil giggled at my startled reaction, then blew the shape of a heart from her smoky mouth. The wisps hit my face, sucked into my nostrils, and filled my sinuses with a spicy aroma. “You can call me ‘Lucy,’ by the way.” Lucy said, black lips creasing, “I’m getting sick of you mentally referring to me as ‘the devil.’”

“Oh, uh… sorry.” I mumbled.

“Don’t ever apologize in hell.” Lucy chuckled, “What’s it matter anymore if you’re sorry?” She brushed a wavy curtain of black hair from one of her eyes, and grinned from the top of her brow, “You take what you want down here.”

“I want you.” I said without thinking. Lucy’s black lips parted to yield her slithering tongue, and the forked tip circled her mouth below ravenous eyes.

“Careful what you wish for, Danny-boy.” She purred, and I was naked in a bed of satin sheets, my arms and legs chained to the post in a compromising spread-eagle. I looked out the window to see the landscape zipping by, and my disoriented mind figured I was in a trailer hitched to whatever was now driving us. She stood before me, her red cleavage bulging from the top of a black leather corset, her red ass bulging from a black leather thong, and her red thighs constrained by black leather boots. She walked domineeringly around the bed, the click of her heels telling me her boots were stilettos, the crack of her whip telling me I should’ve kept my fucking mouth shut. The low, red light cast her face in shadows, giving her already-menacing portrait an even more threatening appearance.

“I’m going to ask you some questions, Danny-boy.” Lucy said softly, “If you answer them right, I’ll be happy. If you answer them wrong, I’ll still be happy, but you won’t be.” She accentuated the last word with a snap of the whip.

“I’ll talk!” I squeaked.

“And I’ll listen.” Lucy grinned, and laid the whip across my nipples. I looked down, and realized that despite everything, I was sporting a skin-splitting erection. Lucy’s eyes followed mine, and then reconnected, a sparkle in her regard. “Now,” she said softly, her voice like poisoned honey, “where is your sister?”

“What?!” I exclaimed, and Lucy wrenched the whip away. The threaded cord seared across my nipples, and I cried out, my hands balling to fists above my shackled wrists.

“I believe I was the one asking the questions.” Lucy purred, and trailed her finger softly over the flesh she’d just tortured. Oh… oh, it was good. Too good. Her caress was overly gentle, barely a touch at all, but it prickled the flesh with delightful tingles. “I don’t want to hurt you, Danny-boy.” Lucy said softly, sounding like a concerned mother, “I want to please you, but if you don’t give me what I want, I’m going to have to punish you. Now, where is your sister?”

“She’s at the Des Moines Civic Center.” I muttered. Lucy laughed, and by the tone of her laugh, I knew I just bought myself some pain.

“The Des Moines Civic Center?!” She sputtered, “Was that the best you could do?” And the whip snapped across my belly again, and again, and again. Each motion was effortlessly casual from her, as though she were swatting a fly, but each snap laid a welt on my flesh that only grew more painful with time. I yelped at the first two, cried out at the third, then bellowed at the last two, my back arching from the bed. Once again, she calmed me with her tender caress, tracing the lines of her abuse with her fingertips, turning pain to pleasure with just a touch. This time, I moaned when she did it, and she looked up at me with a knowing smile.

“Just like your mother.” She chuckled.

“What?”

“You just can’t help yourselves.”

“What?”

“Say ‘what’ again.” Lucy said huskily, putting a finger to my lips, “Say it one more time, I double-dare you, mother fucker.”

“Pulp Fiction?”

“I’m a bit of a cinephile.” Lucy smirked, tracing my mouth, “And if you don’t watch out, we’ll be reenacting a certain snuff film I watched the other day.” Lucy propped one foot on the bed, the thick leg bending alluringly, the stiletto heel pushing into the mattress an inch below my testicles. She pivoted her weight on that heel to lean over me, and as the bend of her knee increased, the sole of her boot slowly pushed my throbbing cock against my belly. I was terrified, and I’d never been so turned on in my life. Little spurts of precum shot from my tip and pooled into my navel, and before I knew what I was doing, I was moaning again.

“My, my, my, aren’t you a little treat?” Lucy chuckled over me, her bulging cleavage practically spilling from her corset. She pet my ,hair as I writhed beneath her pressing sole, the gentleness of her hand juxtaposing the cruelty of her foot. But the pain was no longer something I shied from, for each excruciating addition of weight only heightened the pleasure I garnered from it. She finally pushed her toes down, and I gritted my teeth against the agony and ecstasy.

“Your sister, Danny.” Lucy whispered above me, her golden eyes seeped in malice and tenderness alike. I could’ve stayed there forever, stuck in the duality of my newfound perversion.

“She’s at my house.” I croaked.

“That’s where she died, but that’s not where she is.” Lucy said, and the excruciating weight in my crotch intensified. My hands became claws of tensed fingers, my toes curled, and my legs thrashed below me. Oh, it was good. So, terribly, good.

“She’s dead?!” I managed, the revelation filtering through.

“Yes,” Lucy said, and now her face was hovering over mine, her body parallel above me, almost all her weight pressing on my throbbing shaft, “but she’s missing.”

“She’s in heaven then!” I yelled.

“Sorry, Danny-boy,” Lucy said, and she actually did sound genuine, “but Emily didn’t make it.”

“I! Don’t! Know! Where! She! Is!” I gasped each word. Lucy tilted her head forward, her black hair drawing a curtain over my face, the strands tickling my forehead and cheeks.

“I believe you.” She said softly, and her forked tongue slipped from her black lips to trace the outline of my panting mouth, “Now…” she whispered directly into my ear, “do you want me to stop?”

“No.” I breathed.

“I didn’t think so.” She chuckled, “The safe word is ‘Emily;’ I want to hear you moan her name.”

“It was you!” I snarled, “You’re the one who’s been putting those fucked up thoughts in my head!”

“Fucked up thoughts?” Lucy cocked her head confusedly, “What are you talking…” Lucy trailed off, and her eyes widened above mine, “Oh Danny-boy,” she grinned, lifting her heel, shifting it forward, and slowly pressing it down, “you belong here, you sick, twisted, fuck.”

Her heel pushed into my balls, indenting the mattress beneath them until there was no more give. My chains rattled as I squirmed beneath her, trapped in the pain, a slave to the pleasure, bellowing in hoarse tones as the pressure in my balls increased. My cock elevated with the rise of her foot, and it throbbed excruciatingly, bubbling with the imminence of release. The roiling in my loins escalated, the pain in my crotch was unbearable, but I reveled in it, staring rapturously into the merciless eyes of my mistress.

“Say it,” Lucy hissed in my ear, “say her name.”

“EMILY!” I screamed, and I erupted. I thrusted as Lucy released the pressure of her heel, and I showered myself with my seed, spilling it across my belly, chest, and chin. I didn’t care. I was in a torrent of ecstasy, my entire being seeming to be sucked out of the end of my cock, pumping through my loins like a hose.

“There, baby, there.” Lucy cooed softly, trailing her fingers through my hair. She took a dollop of what had spilled on my chin, and brought her finger to her lips.

“Mmm.” She hummed hedonistically, drawing the finger through her pursed mouth, “Oh, you are decadent, Danny-boy.” Her slit pupils dilated, and her posture grew languorous. She eased herself downward, her golden eyes watching me. Her breath caressed my shaft, and it twitched alive, curving with unnatural engorgement. Her tongue slithered from her wet mouth, and wrapped thrice about me. I sucked in air through gritted teeth, and her open mouth quirked in a lazy smile, then wrapped around my head, and took in the entirety of her meal. Oh… oh sweet baby Jesus.

You don’t have to worry about him down here, Danny-boy. Lucy chuckled in my mind. Her lips pillowed wetly against my throbbing girth, a soft succulence to ease the tortuous aching of my erection. Inch after inch of me disappeared into her, the tip pushing easily through the resistance of her throat, and then nestling into her neck. I could see my bulge from the outside, but Lucy didn’t strain at all. She swallowed continuously around me, her golden eyes twinkling, knowing unabashedly how good she was. My head fell back against the pillow, and I groaned. She drew upward, her red cheeks growing gaunt below her extravagant cheekbones, her lips pulling from her mouth. She stroked me with her tongue as she sucked me, moving the lassoed member in contest with her pulling lips. It took all my willpower not to blow right there. She drew all the way up, then popped my cock from her black mouth, letting it waggle freely with a fresh sheen of her spit. My needful protest sounded high and pathetic, and Lucy delighted in it. She wrapped her delicate fingers about my girth, and laid my length against her face. She smelled me, drawing her nose up my shaft until she got to the head, then she licked her lips once more, and dove back in.

Up and down, up and down. Her golden eyes never left mine, staring intently as she gurgled softly, never gagging, but slurping and squelching, making me vanish and reappear. She wasn’t sucking my cock; she was consuming me, and it seemed to be more for her pleasure than mine, for she touched herself as she did it, pushing one hand down her panties. The knuckles rolled beneath the fabric, and her eyes glazed over. Without any warning or preamble, Lucy pulled my cock from her mouth, dropped her face under my spread legs, and divided my ass cheeks with her thumb and forefinger.

“Hold on, wait a fucking second…” and the words trailed away from me. Lucy’s forked tongue tickled my puckered exit, her breath caressed it, her lips brushed it. I heard her chuckle low and knowingly when my tensed thighs relaxed on their own accord.

“That’s it, Danny-boy,” her voice was a covetous purr, “open up to me.”

“Stop!” I gasped.

“Oh, but I just started.”

She pushed her tongue inside, corkscrewing wetly into my filth, invading me until her lips squished against my rim. A shuddering breath exited my disbelieving mouth, and I moaned for her like she wanted. Her lips smacked vulgarly as she sucked, rotating with the lecherous hums that came from deep within her chest. She stroked my cock with one hand, and touched herself with the other, all the while she explored my sinful insides, her tongue squirming within, lathering my channel, teasing every nerve. She found the organ of my masculinity, and she pressed it with her invading member. It was too much. The devil’s violation had me thrusting and bucking pathetically, gasping and speaking gibberish. My hips shifted and swayed, my hands balled, and my knuckles whitened. She flicked and prodded my prostate relentlessly, never giving me a chance to quell the rise inside me, always intensifying, tortuously ratcheting the pleasure until it was taking over my mind. When I was exalting at the precipice, she withdrew, consumed my shaft, and let me blow down her swallowing throat. My back arched from the bed, and I thrusted like an animal. She reached beneath me, drove her middle finger up my ass, and pressed the digit against my convulsing organ. I bellowed in abject euphoria, losing control of myself, but she didn’t mind. She let me drive into her, brutally smacking my pelvis into her muzzle, pulling her cheeks gaunt with each forceful exit and bulging down her neck with each untamed drive. Her black hair flailed, her golden eyes rolled back, but she never once seemed to be taken by my aggression; she just hummed whorishly around my meat, worked her hand fervently between her spread legs, and her invading finger deep into my ass. I’d never had cascading orgasms before, but she gave me one there, for an even greater climax came after, and it left me paralyzed.

She tamed me as assuredly as a dog breaks for its master. My eyes bulged and trembled, my body shook with spasms, and my cock pumped down her continuously-swallowing throat, my balls atrophying and empty, completely spent. She came from her masturbation, the pitch of her humming moans rising until they were a suppressed scream, then fading as her back drooped into a splendid arch. Finally, mercifully, she withdrew herself from me. She licked the finger she had stuck inside me, then licked the webbing of lust from her masturbating hand, watching me as she did it. She played with the strings of cum that dripped from her marred lips, winding them onto her finger, then sucking it clean.

“I’m going to make you destroy yourself.” She said as she nestled herself into the crook of me, her breasts pillowing against my ribs, one thick leg lying lazily across my crotch. She rested her head on my chest, and drew a circle about my nipple with a teasing finger. “I’m going to make your darkest dreams come true, and watch you succumb to your desires.”

“I won’t help you.” I growled dispiritedly. She giggled, apparently very amused by my crisis. The chains that shackled my wrists and ankles disappeared. I could do nothing but embrace the devil like a lover, and pull her closer to me. Her horns grazed my chin, her tail flicked behind her, and she sighed contentedly.

“You’re going to do whatever I ask, Danny-boy. You see, I’ve planned a family reunion, and I can’t let you spoil it.”

EMILY

Mrs. Johnson looked… different. When I lowered my skirt from my humiliated face, I expected to see the concerned features of the plump geriatric who lived next door. Instead, I was greeted by the sight of an angel. That was the only way to describe this woman. She had pure white hair, bronze skin, big sorrowful blue eyes, lush pouting lips, and dimpled cheeks. And while her face spoke of heavenly innocence, her body spoke of less-than-divine experience. This woman had an hourglass figure that seemed anatomically impossible, but she was not a dainty thing. Her arms were toned with soft muscle, and her bronze midriff showed the shadowed lines of her abs. She had on a billowing white top that clung to her oversized breasts, and white leggings that clung to an ass that put mine to shame. I was so struck by this woman that I didn’t even realize I was in hell. That came a second later, when I looked up at the ceiling to see an eight-legged man with no arms and a set of fangs grinning down at me.

I screamed, paralyzed with terror. He descended from his web, drooling from the sharp points of mandibles that deformed his jaw. I tried to scramble to my feet, but my legs were useless with fear. I’d spent a grand total of two seconds in the afterlife, and I was already going to get raped by Spiderman. This was just my luck. There was a crash, the twinkling of broken glass, then a blinding light. The creature screamed, and I heard the terrifying sound of its feet pattering away. I shielded my eyes from the white light, and squinted, trying to discern the outline approaching me. The light faded around the angel, but her aura remained, beautiful and radiant like she was.

“Emily?” She asked, her voice echoing with heavenly reverb.

“Yeah.” I croaked.

“My name’s Rachel.” Rachel said, extending a hand, “I’ve been sent by God to get you out of here.”

“Oh.” I muttered. What the fuck else was I to say?

“‘Thank you’ would suffice.” Rachel chuckled, answering my mental question. Of course, she could read my mind.

“Are you an angel?” I gasped as Rachel helped me to my feet.

“No,” Rachel smiled ruefully, “angels belong in heaven, and I have no right to be there.”

“But…” I frowned, “you’re all… white and glowing and sexy…” I gestured to her, “you look like a fucking Victoria’s Secret model!”

“No wings.” Rachel pointed to her back.

“Oh, angels have wings, huh?” I blew air threw flapping cheeks, “Of course they do, how could I be so stupid. So then, what are you?”

“A demon.” Rachel shrugged, “Just because I’m damned, doesn’t mean I’m not still loyal to God.”

“But you don’t have horns.” I frowned at her mane of white hair.

“Not all demons have horns, Emily.” Rachel smiled.

“Ah, so all angels have wings, but not all demons have horns; got it.” I muttered. I glanced at the burning hellscape that surrounded me, and stretched to the infernal horizons. The sky was a great rock ceiling, but at the center of it, I saw a hole that opened to a starry night.

“Is that where we’re going?” I asked, pointing to the hole.

“It is.” Rachel nodded.

“Alright Rachel,” I grunted, “lead on.”

We walked in silence for a few hours. I had millions of questions, but I didn’t know where to start, so I erred on the side of caution, and decided not to piss off my guardian angel -err, guardian demon– with incessant inquiries. We traversed passes, climbed mountains, and scaled down canyons. On the way, we passed thousands of damned souls, but none bothered us. In fact, most veered out of Rachel’s way the moment they saw her, which gave me some measure of comfort. Apparently, I was being protected by a bonafide biblical badass.

We stopped at what looked like a biker bar. It wasn’t the kind of place I’d frequent, but I wasn’t about to complain about Rachel’s tastes. The roided-up demons that loitered near the entrance were a piss-inducing sight, but the moment they saw Rachel, they fucked off. Rachel took me by the hand, and I clung to her like a frightened daughter as she guided me through the threshold.

My ears were immediately assaulted with death-metal, and my eyes were filled with debauchery. Demons fought, fed, and fucked in equal quantities, but it was the latter that caught my eyes. I’d seen some pretty hardcore porn in my day, but this… well, I guessed this was hell. One demoness was bent over the bar, her ass perched on a barstool, a long line of men behind her. The horned black woman seemed to greatly enjoy being used as a demon-semen receptacle for every patron, even after her anus had prolapsed into a ruby ruin. The next man came up and just stuffed it back in, and she moaned her gratitude to the ceiling, her back arching from the bar. Another woman with three (count ‘em three!) tits was sandwiched between two bull-horned juice-heads, both of whom seemed hell-bent on excavating the poor woman. Four more tailed demonesses were in a writhing pile on the floor, their holes apparently free to use for any passerby. The ones that weren’t heaving in the throes of penetration were lying in puddles of their own making, and spreading themselves with a curled-back tail to present their leaking assets. Rachel stepped through the debauchery like it was nothing, and I tried very hard to seem just as ambivalent to the ordeal, but I failed. I gawked at the sex surrounding me, and caught way too many leering eyes and inviting smiles. Rachel guided me into a secluded booth, and I sat down, only then realizing that my legs were shaking.

“Smoke?” She asked, pulling out a pack.

“Um, no thanks.” I smiled, putting up a staying hand. Rachel shrugged, then put a square between her lips, and lit it without using any perceivable flame.

“God, you’re cool.” I sighed, “You’re like a fucking movie character.”

“Thanks,” Rachel grinned around her cigarette, “and you’re… sushi?”

“Sexy sushi.” I said, tapping the side of my nose, “Me and my brother were doing food this year. He was Kevin Bacon. Like… he was a piece of bacon… with… Kevin… you don’t know what I’m talking about, do you? Were you born in ancient Egypt or something?”

“Arizona.” Rachel said.

“Like… before white people ruined it?”

“Nineteen-ninety-nine.”

“Wait,” I frowned, “you’re telling me that you’re only a year older than me, and you don’t know who Kevin Bacon is?!”

“Time’s a funny thing. A year, a billion; why count time’s passage when it no longer matters?” Rachel said, flicking ash onto the floor. I had no idea how to respond to that. I wasn’t sure if this woman was insane, dangerous, or the savior I hoped she was. Why are you in hell, Rachel? was the question I wanted to know, but dared not say. Rachel smiled knowingly at me. “Let’s just say that religious repression and temptation make a volatile mixture. I made some mistakes, and God punished me eternally for them, which why I serve down here, instead of up there.”

“He sounds harsh.”

“God is a woman.” Rachel said, pursing her lips around her smoldering square, “So is the devil, for that matter. Down here we call her ‘Lucy.’ And yes,” Rachel looked at the ceiling, but I got the feeling she was looking through it, “they are both very harsh.”

“Why are we here?” I asked.

“Because we have sinned.” Rachel sighed dramatically, then before I could clarify, she smiled wryly, “We’re here to meet an old friend of mine. I think you’ll like her.”

A waitress stepped into our booth with a tray of drinks. “The house special today is… Rachel?” she gasped. I looked over to see a naked woman, her only garment a pair of fishnet stockings. She had tan skin and amber hair, her body was nubile and supple, and her horned brow and long tail marked her demonically. Despite all that, it was her voice that captured me. It was casually musical, and it seemed to slip into my ear and penetrate my mind.

“Fantasia.” Rachel grinned delightedly up at the demoness, then, much to my shock, she pulled the woman into a heated kiss. Fantasia’s tray was dropped unceremoniously on the table, shots of liquor spilling without a care. And why would she care, for was there anything as beautiful as watching these creatures exchange tongues? Their eyes closed in bliss, their noses pressed alongside one another, and their mouths smacked and hummed with pure hedonism. Fantasia seemed to wilt into Rachel, molding herself desperately to the curves of her, her thin tail coiling and wagging behind her in contentment, revealing her puckered anus and leaking slit. I sank into the corner of my booth, intimidated and shamefully aroused, but confused more than anything.

“Last time I saw you, you were a scared little girl.” Fantasia said, eyes connecting with Rachel’s above a glistening string of their spit, “Now look at you.”

“Last time I saw you, you were in a whorehouse.” Rachel chuckled, guiding the smaller woman onto her knee, “Now I hear you’re working as a waitress of all things. What happened?”

“Being a hooker was just too predictable; you always know when you’re going to get stuck.” Fantasia snickered, “Working here is just so much more exciting. Any moment a patron could grab me, force me to my knees, and there would be nothing I could do about it. I’m just so helpless.”

“You’re anything but helpless, Fantasia.” Rachel smiled. Fantasia smirked at her, then shifted herself into Rachel’s lap. She stopped abruptly, yelped, and whipped her head around to give Rachel an astonished gape.

“When did you…”

“Shhh.” Rachel said, putting her finger to Fantasia’s lips. The lithe demoness parted her lush lips, and sucked the presented finger to the knuckle, drawing her mouth down its length with a low hum. Rachel smiled at the young woman, then turned her sapphire gaze on me.

“The reason you’re so turned on right now, is because Fantasia is a succubus.” Rachel explained, then added a wry smirk, “And you’re also a lot less heterosexual than you thought you were.”

“Aren’t we all?” Fantasia sighed, scooching herself the rest of the way into Rachel’s lap. Her amber eyes drew on me, and I felt her intoxicating magic working in my mind. “Who’s your friend?”

“Fantasia, this is Emily; Emily, Fantasia.” Rachel made the introductions. Fantasia extended her hand, and when I grasped it, I felt myself grow hot from my crotch to my cheeks. I didn’t shake her hand, but held it stupidly, staring with mouth agape into her laughing amber eyes. Her thumb caressed mine, then she withdrew.

“A virgin.” Fantasia smiled at me, then at Rachel, “Have you brought me a present?”

“A virgin?” Rachel inquired, inspecting me curiously.

“I mean…” I felt myself flushing with embarrassment, “I blew a few guys, so it’s not like I don’t party.”

“You know, I think the greatest allure of virginity is not the innocence, but the shame.” Fantasia pontificated, smiling at me, “All that insecurity is just so…” Fantasia licked her lips, “…delicious.”

“And a signaling beacon for anyone Lucy sends after her.” Rachel frowned.

“The devil is after me?!” I exclaimed.

“What have you got me roped into, Rachel?” Fantasia asked her lap partner.

“Your mom signed a contract with Lucy, and Lucy’s charging interest.” Rachel said to me, “You and Daniel are the interest. She already has your brother-”

“SHE WHAT?!” I screamed. My head was swimming, my heart was thundering, and my belly was turning over in my guts. Mom, Daniel, Lucy, Rachel. It was like I was hit with cold water. I’d been in a weird state of pseudo-denial, but the mental safeguards I put up crumbled, and I suddenly realized the enormity of my situation. God and the devil were real, I was dead and in hell, my mother had sold her soul, and my brother had been kidnapped by Satan. Panic gripped me, ravaging any sense of rationality. I broke out into cold sweats, then vomited, then fell face-first into that vomit. The last thing I saw before consciousness ebbed from me, were two beautiful faces, etched in concern.

REBECCA

My death had been a pleasant experience. As was the case with all things involving Lucy, the terrible was made pleasurable, and the horrifying was fetishized. She’d made me come as she slid the knife between my ribs. I felt the sharpness of it, but not the pain. My mind was flooded with the endorphins of my humiliating release, and I barely had time to register that my heart had been pierced before sweet blackness enveloped me.

“Welcome home, Becky.” Lucy smiled at me. She was her true self now; crimson, horned and tailed, gorgeous and terrifying. She was clad in a leather corset and boots, with a thong that disappeared between her thick legs and bulging cheeks. She held a wine glass in one hand, and swirled it beneath her nostrils before she took a sip.

The room I was in was a circular chamber with iron bars across the windows, stone walls and floor, and a chain with a hook at the end hanging from the ceiling. I was dangling from that hook, my cuffed wrists forced high above me, my naked body stretching below me, the tips of my toes grazing the floor.

“Daniel?” I asked, “Emily?”

“Dead and damned.” Lucy said softly, taking a sip of wine.

“Let them go!” I cried.

“Or what?” Lucy smiled back, tilting her head curiously.

“We had a deal!” I yelled, and even as the words left my mouth, I realized how futile they were. Lucy didn’t even deign to answer me, but stood from her chair, taking a sip of her blood-colored beverage. She circled me, studying my body like a wolf studies a deer. I shuddered, the fear creeping into my mind, and with it, the desire. That reaction had been conditioned into me by this very woman. I couldn’t help myself. Fear, pain, humiliation, and degradation were all triggers for me, and those triggers made me subservient, docile and wanting.

“Do you remember when we first met?” Lucy asked softly. Her voice was commanding and soothing, slipping into my ear and caressing my mind, echoing softly in the annals of my consciousness. The voice of my master.

“Of course.” I breathed.

“I never saw a more damaged creature.” Lucy mused. She walked behind me, the threat of her footsteps coming closer, building the anticipation. I couldn’t stop the hot rush to my nethers, nor the opening of my petals, nor the leaking of my nectar. “Plenty of girls that age go through a self-harm phase, but you weren’t fucking around.” She said, and as she did, I felt a tingle in the scar that split my forearm. “That’s when I knew you were special.” I felt fingertips between my shoulders, “That’s when I knew you were a keeper.”

“Please!” I whimpered, rubbing my thighs together, trying to quell the growing need between them, “Please let my children go! You don’t need them!”

“I don’t need you, Becky, but I want you.” Lucy’s fingertips traced down my spine, causing my back to arch, both fleeing and beckoning her touch, “Just like I want little Daniel and little Emily.”

“They’re innocent.” I whispered, but my objection seemed more like a formality to me than anything else. My focus was zeroed-in on Lucy’s fingers as the nails dragged gently down the small of my back.

“You were innocent when you first came to me.” Lucy muttered, her mouth right next to my ear, “You were a lamb who had made a grave mistake, but I saw the potential.” Her breasts pillowed to my shoulderblades, her chin rested on my collar, and her hand moved between my lower cheeks. “You had so much self-loathing, so much pain. What did I tell you I would do?”

“Free me from myself.” I whispered. I closed my eyes, savoring the graze of her fingers as they divided my glutes, ran over my puckered rim, and brushed through my dripping folds.

“That’s right.” Lucy chuckled lowly. Her voice was in my head now, commanding me gently from the recesses of my mind. “I took your self-hatred, and I made it self-love. Now love and hate walk hand-in-hand in you, just like pleasure and pain.” Lucy forked her index and pinky finger to open my slit, and pushed her middle and ring inside. I gasped, my head falling back, my eyes widening.

“There’s no greater freedom then being a slave.” Lucy whispered as I whined pathetically, “For once choice is removed, then there’s nothing to worry about. You can’t be blamed for your actions, so you can enjoy the consequences of them without guilt. Once you realize there is no low you can’t stoop to, you become limitless.”

“Please!” I begged, “Let them be!” Her fingers rubbed my anal wall from the other side, the knuckles pushing into the ribbed erogenous spot on my ceiling. She controlled me from within, turning me into a debauched puppet whose hips twisted at the whim of her fingers. I whined and pleaded, gasped and groaned, my back stretching and arching, my arms flexing high above me. Lucy’s breath was heavy against my neck, her crotch was pressing into my ass, grinding with my pathetic undulations.

“And when I took you back to earth, you were a new woman.” Lucy hissed, “No more hiding in the shadows for you. You were the life of the party, the girl with no limits, the slut who didn’t know the word ‘no.’ Tattoos, piercings, cocaine, molly, cock, pussy; you didn’t care, just as long as it gave you that thrill.”

“Yes!” I sobbed, my eyes streaming with my pleasure and self-debasement.

“You were magnificent, Becky.” Lucy growled, her fingers pushing against my back wall as she pet me from the inside, stimulating my vacant rectum, shooting searing pleasure deep into my nethers, “You would’ve died like an exploding star, and taken your rightful place beneath me here. But then you became a mother, and that all changed. Oh, you relapsed every once in a while, but you weren’t the same. But that’s OK now, because I know the truth.”

“What?!” I cried out, my voice ragged with pleasure, “What truth?”

“It’s not the right time, Becky.”

“Please!” I begged, “Please just let them go!”

“I know you want to believe you’re being a martyr for your children.” Lucy’s tone almost sounded consoling, “But I know the truth about you, Becky. Your protests are part of the persona you play, because deep, deep down, you’re begging me to let you stoop to the lowest a mother can go.” Lucy held her unoccupied hand before me, and a collar materialized in her red palm. On that collar, glinting gold in the hellish light, was a dogtag with the name ‘Pet’ inscribed. My mind flooded with emotion, and it overflowed from my eyes. I turned over my shoulder to look at Lucy, my expression wrought with pathetic hope.

“Do you mean it?” I muttered, voice hoarse.

“Of course, I do, I made a promise, didn’t I?” Lucy smiled affectionately, “But you have to prove yourself… Pet.”

My body teemed with the pleasure coerced from within, and expressed it with the pathetic shifts of my hips. Only my mind remained completely unsullied, but Lucy wouldn’t allow me even that much. Oh, how I wanted to give her the last of myself. Oh, how I ached to become the thing etched on that dogtag. I might’ve kept my last shred of dignity, but Lucy sensed it before I could strengthen it, and she did something I had no chance of resisting. Her pressing crotch suddenly grew stiff. Her breath became short and raspy on my neck, ravenous and aggressive. I felt something very unfemale swell between my cheeks, the shaft widening, the tip parting my crack. It was hot, throbbing, and huge. When I looked into Lucy’s reptilian eyes, the slit pupils were dilated, and her black lips were drooling with hunger. She suddenly grabbed my face, pushed my cheeks together, and drove her tongue between my squished lips. Her mouth consumed me dominatingly, and I wilted in it, my eyes rolling back and my tongue subserviently reciprocating. She took a fistful of my hair and tore my face away, leaving me mouthing pathetically for her kiss as she stared imperiously into my eyes.

“Scream for me, you slut.” She hissed. I did. Lucy pressed her tip to my puckered aperture, and buried herself to the hilt. I shrieked to the ceiling, my back drooping, my arms stretching above and behind me as I bent with my arch. My insides uncoiled for her advance, the fleshy resistances forced open with every inch, the walls pressed flat against the cavity, stretched to their limits. Horrible pain shot deep into my colon, and with it, incalculable pleasure. Lucy removed her hand from my pussy, and cupped my exalting mouth. Above her pressing palms, my eyes were wide and trembling, and they only widened as she eased herself back. Her cock was too girthy for me, and my pelvic floor stretched from my crack with her retreated, the flesh forming a debauched tent along her exiting pole. She made it to the crease of her cock, then she rammed into me again, and again, and again. I squealed muffled pain and pleasure, tasting myself on the palm that muted me. My pussy spurted with every thrust, the sticky lust running down my trembling legs, some of it navigating my crack to mercifully lubricate my violation. My mind began to go blank in the heat of it, aware only of the piercing invasion, the depth of her defilement, then the stretching of my exit. My rim expanded to a white circle of tortured nerves, delighting in ever bump and vein that passed through them. The sensations became too much. My tongue lolled stupidly from my mouth, licking the hand that suppressed my screams. My breasts jiggled with the force of her drives, slapping on my chest, forming a rhythm with the violent clapping of my glutes, whose fat rippled with Lucy’s impacts.

“Make me your slut! Make me your pet!” I exalted senselessly, begging for her to break the last of me. She did. My shithole clenched with spasms, my pussy fluttered from within, a feeling of tension began to wind relentlessly in my depths. My screams grew in intensity, each one filled with desperate breaths, each one becoming higher and higher. Lucy panted and growled against my neck, her tone feminine, but expressed with undeniable masculinity. I felt her bulging invasion throb and pulse, and its imminent eruption only served to expedite my own. With a final gasp, Lucy grabbed my rippling glutes, spread them wide, pressed her thumbs about both sides of my dilated rim, and tore herself out. I choked on my orgasm. My anal sheath flowed out of me, bunching at my exit in a glistening bud of rosy flesh. My body was assaulted with a wave of ecstasy so great, that I lost control of my bladder, and squirted hormone-rich urine from my nethers. My head flung back, and I screamed, my body trembling with the ecstasy that overwhelmed it, bending to expel it. Lucy squatted behind me, and wrapped her lips around my prolapsed bud. She sucked gently, offering sensual pleasure in the wake of my violent release. Her reptilian tongue slithered its forked tip through my filthy petals, and rewarded every nerve my coalesced rectum had. My body dropped without resistance, dangling helplessly from the chain, my mouth moaning and sobbing my gratitude. I came again, softer than before, the climax echoing the tenderness of Lucy’s slurping lips. When my coiled anus was numbed and swollen, she pushed it back in with her tongue, then stood up. The tension in the chain slackened, and I dropped spinelessly to the floor. I was on my knees, at eye-level with the throbbing, red length of Lucy’s cock. It shined with the secretion of my anal lust, the pungent smell a delightful miasma for my nostrils.

“Open your mouth.” She uttered, staring imperiously down at me. My jaw clicked open, and she slid herself inside. I tasted the tang of my anus, and hummed lecherously around it, slurping her clean. She pushed slowly in, her expression slackening as I took her into my throat. I gagged, my esophagus fluttering with spasms, but I didn’t resist. The pain was my pleasure. I accepted each agonizing inch of her until my nose squished against her pelvis, and my lips sucked sensually about her base. I looked up at her with submissive puppy-eyes, and she smiled back as the doting master, running possessive and affectionate fingers through my blonde strands. Her aggression was spent in my ass, so she was content to let me take her slowly, sheening her red shaft with a coat of spit, then taking it back in, my lips sucking with gentle avarice, my neck bulging with her length and girth. When her brow furrowed, and her black lips gaped to yield breathy moans, I held her deep, and massaged her with my swallowing muscles. She pulled me against her by the hair, and with a subtle cry, she emptied herself into my belly. I touched myself as she did it, aroused beyond deion at the idea of her seed infecting my bowels. Then she pulled out, and showered my face with her lust, and I giggled delightedly for being marked as hers. She pulled me upright into a heated kiss, and I tasted my ass on her tongue as she tasted her cum on mine.

“Are you ready?” She asked, golden eyes questioning.

“Yes, Master.” I whispered on her lips, sapphire eyes full of unconditional love.

“Where does a good dog sit?” Lucy asked, and without preamble, I squatted on my haunches at her feet. “Good girl.” She chuckled, and bestowed upon me, my collar. It was not hyperbole to say that it was the happiest moment of my life. Tears filled my eyes, and I dropped to my master’s feet, and licked her boots.

“Not just yet, girl.” Master said, leashing my collar, and drawing me back into a squat, “You still have to prove yourself.”

The walls parted with a groan, and revealed a man sitting in a chair. Daniel. He was shackled at the wrists and ankles, manacled about the neck, and naked. He looked at me, disbelieving and horrified, and I felt the shame wash over me. And with the shame, came the arousal.

“He saw the whole thing, Pet.” Lucy bent forward to whisper in my ear, “He watched you beg for me to fuck your ass like the hopeless bitch you are.”

I was mortified and disgusted, but both emotions only served to entrench my desire. My pussy was still woefully unsatisfied, and dripped strings of want from my blushing petals.

“Why don’t you see if your boy still fits in the hole he came from.” Lucy beckoned.

“Mom?” Daniel’s voice was quaking. My baby boy, terrified and confused, imprisoned by the devil for my own faults. The gravity of it weighed heavily in my chest, but my maternal disposition was corrupted with my sexual wants. I was a depraved, filthy creature, and I was about to do the unthinkable. I couldn’t help myself.

“It’s OK, baby.” I said softly to him, crawling on all fours as Lucy led me, “Mommy’s going to make it all better.”

Chapter Two: Parental Concern

EMILY

My vision came into focus, images clarifying, sound roaring back into my ears. I was in the back of a van, and I was naked. Those were the first two things I noticed, and my mind immediately went into the dark realm of windowless vans, missing teenage girls, and fruitless search parties. Then I remembered that I was already dead and in hell, and that was an odd comfort. I groaned, and turned my head.

“Hi!” a friendly, tan face smiled below a pair of curved horns. It was Fantasia, the amber-eyed, auburn-haired, succubus. She was on the floor of the van, which had all the seats taken out save for the driver’s, where Rachel sat. The white-haired beauty looked over her shoulder and frowned with concern at me, before turning her attention back to the road. Outside, the jagged peaks and treacherous cliffs of the underworld zipped by, the infernal skies blackened with gouts of industrial smoke from derelict cooling towers.

“Why am I naked?” I grumbled.

“You barfed all over your Halloween outfit, then you pissed yourself.” Fantasia explained, “I would’ve given you a set of my clothes, but…” she pulled on the threading of her fishnet stockings, “that’s all I’ve got.”

“We’ll find something for you, Emily.” Rachel called from the front. I eyed her without responding, then I eyed Fantasia. She grinned broadly, pinching her shoulders back to display her modest bare chest, an inviting glint in her eyes.

“Wanna fool around?” She giggled.

“No.” I grumbled, uncomfortably unsure if I was telling the truth.

“There’s nothing wrong with desiring someone of your own gender.” Fantasia grinned.

“Jesus, can everyone here read my mind?!” I lamented.

“No,” Fantasia’s nostrils flared, “but I can smell your arousal wafting from your flesh, and it smells delicious.”

“Leave her be, Fantasia.” Rachel scolded gently from the front seat.

“She has to lose her virginity; you said so yourself!” Fantasia snapped at Rachel.

“Virginity in hell is very technical.” Rachel replied, “It involves a penis going into a vagina, and that’s not something you can provide.”

“You sure?” Fantasia smirked, and ran the point of her tail back and forth through the folds of her pussy while making eyebrows at me.

“You know that doesn’t count.” Rachel sighed.

“Well why don’t you come back here, and…” Fantasia trailed off when Rachel gave her a dark look. She pouted her lips, and crawled over to sit beside me. Though our naked thighs brushed, I no longer felt the overwhelming attraction. Whatever she was putting out she’d stopped now, and though I recognized that she was pretty, I was not consumed with desire.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“To save your brother and mother.” Rachel said from the front, casually shifting gears, “Lucy’s got them locked up in her palace, so that’s where we’re going. First, I need to solicit the help of some old friends.”

“And I’m her oldest friend.” Fantasia said proudly.

“More like my oldest acquaintance.” Rachel chuckled from the front. Fantasia stuck her forked tongue at her.

“That doesn’t mean much if she’s only been down here a year.” I muttered.

“A year? Rachel?” Fantasia laughed, “Rachel’s been down here for billions of years.”

“Huh?” I asked, “She was born in ninety-ninety-nine!”

“Not your ninety-ninety-nine, silly!” Fantasia seemed to think I was hilarious, “The last nineteen-ninety-nine!”

“What…”

“The universe expands and contracts, but heaven and hell stay constant.” Fantasia explained with a miming gesture.

“Oh.” I said. What else do you say when you you’re sitting next to two billion-year-old women?

“You can always talk about the weather.” Rachel said. God, that mind-reading shit was getting annoying. “Sorry.” Rachel chuckled.

We drove for another hour, most of which I spent trying to ignore Fantasia. Though she’d turned off her seduction, she still teased me relentlessly; rubbing against me, brushing my tit “accidentally,” stumbling when we hit a nonexistence bump only to magically end up straddled across my lap. You would’ve thought someone with billions of years under her belt would be more mature. Despite her oddly-childish pestering for sex, Fantasia was not an unkindly girl. When we stopped at a Wal-Mart (I wasn’t surprised hell had one) to get me clothes, Fantasia offered to run in and procure them, saving me the humiliation of walking nakedly through an underworld box store. I should’ve known the succubus would settle for nothing less than the sluttiest outfit she could find. I scowled at her as she grinned deviously, and I reluctantly pulled the gauze “dress” over my body.

“God, that looks so fucking hot on you.” Fantasia sighed, unabashedly eye-fucking me. I dared a look in the window, and caught my reflection. The white translucent garment hugged the modest swell of my breasts, draped generously from my nipples, and narrowed to my waist. The garment was hemmed in such a way that it ended just where thigh met glute, and wrapped my succulent asset tightly enough to push into the crack. With direct lighting, nothing was hidden.

“I look like a whore.” I muttered.

“I know, right?” Fantasia giggled, apparently pleased with my review. She rested her chin on my shoulder, and grinned back from our mutual reflection, “Hell’s virgin bachelorette,” Fantasia tied a black velvet choker around my neck, “ready and willing for one lucky demon to ravish her innocence away.”

“You’re fucking insane.”

“There’s no room for sanity down here, Emily.” Fantasia said into my ear, “This place really is hell if you try to control yourself, but it can be heaven if you let yourself go.” She took my chin between her thumb and finger, and turned me until our faces were a breath apart, “I’ll keep you safe, but only as safe as you want to be kept.” Fantasia winked, her thick lashes tickling my own, we were so close.

After some time, Rachel pulled us over next to what looked like a hedged maze. It was the first time I’d seen any foliage in hell, and though it was oddly out of place, it was a welcome sight.

“Oh my god, are we seeing Kaitlyn?!” Fantasia clapped her hands excitedly.

“Emily and I are.” Rachel said, unbuckling herself.

“B-b-b-but…” Fantasia pouted her lip and slouched her shoulders in an exaggerated display of disappointment, “…why can’t I come?”

“Because you’ll embarrass me.”

“I swear I’ll be good!” Fantasia promised, nodding her head fervently. Rachel looked incredulous, but she did relent with a sigh. Fantasia squealed.

“Kaitlyn?” I asked Fantasia when we hopped out of the back of the van.

“She’s amazing!” Fantasia proclaimed, “I can’t believe you get to meet her on your first day here!”

“I guess even in hell, it’s all about who you know.” I said, eyeing Rachel as she led the way. Every second spent with the mysterious woman only raised more questions. Why was Rachel both revered and feared by all the demons we passed? Why could she demand the audience of an apparent celebrity without invitation? And why was she ignoring these important mental questions, but acknowledging my most trivial musings? It meant she was hiding things from me, and I didn’t much care for that. Of course, I didn’t have any options either. As I pondered the mysterious woman before me, my eyes began to move on their own accord. They traversed the brilliant length of Rachel’s white, wavy hair, moved along the elegant exposure of her collar, trailed the frills of her white cutoff, savored the tan musculature of her lower and mid back, then rested easily on the domes of her ass, bulging from her white leggings. Good god, what an ass.

“Thank you, Emily; yours is quite nice as well.” Rachel smirked over her shoulder.

“STOP!” I lamented, beyond exasperated. Fantasia tittered, and wrapped her arms around me, hugging me as we walked. Apparently, her an I were best friends now. But when I tried to ask my new best friend about Rachel, Fantasia kept her lips infuriatingly sealed, throwing cautious glances at our protector.

“It’s not for me to say.” Fantasia explained, “She’ll tell you herself when she’s ready.”

“Maybe I’ll just ask this ‘Kaitlyn’ then.” I grumbled.

“No one will cross Rachel down here, Emily, not even Kaitlyn.” Fantasia said.

“Not even Lucy?” I raised an eyebrow, and Fantasia zipped her fingers across her lips, and smiled apologetically. We rounded the outer edge of the hedge, and my jaw dropped. I stood before a beautiful garden of trimmed grass, extravagant stone fountains, and brilliant flowers, and in the center of that garden, was the most striking woman I’d ever seen. Now I saw why Fantasia was so excited to meet Kaitlyn. This woman was a splendor of curves that matched Rachel’s, with crimson flesh, pink hair shorn on one side, and the toned musculature of an athlete. Sapphire eyes and two pointed horns ornamented her exquisite face, while a wealth of golden piercings ornamented her vulgar body; hoops in her ears, rings in her nipples, and a trail of spherical studs that started at her sternum, moved down her toned abdomen, her pelvis, and her massive cock. Oh, did I gloss over that? Yeah, this “woman” had a comically-large penis, and a hairless set of testicles to boot, all dangling between her perfectly-shaped legs. Fantasia was drooling next to me.

“Rachel.” Kaitlyn said, her voice husky and low, dripping with sexuality. She walked over to us, each swing of her hips a sight to behold. She regarded me with a knowing smile, and the eye contact made my knees weak. Her eyes slid slowly away, and she stopped before Rachel, quirking her lush lips into an expectant grin. The two moved on each other. Their hands found the curves of the other, their crotches pressed, and their lips opened to yield sliding tongues. I watched them breathlessly, realizing with a bit of shame that I was also drooling. They finished with contentment in their half-lidded eyes, and the smiles of things to come. Then they looked at me.

“This is her?” Kaitlyn asked Rachel. I was suddenly very aware that I was basically naked.

“It is.” Rachel said, turning back to Kaitlyn, “Will you help me?”

“Lucy has the brother and the mother already.” Kaitlyn frowned, disengaging from Rachel to step toward me, “And she works incredibly fast with her personal projects.”

“I know that more than anyone.” Rachel replied. That of course, raised about a thousand questions, all of which Rachel dismissed with one look. It was hard to concentrate on them anyway. My eyes were looking everywhere but where my mind was focused, which was on the raging boner Kaitlyn was rocking. Her balls had retracted somewhat, revealing feminine lips behind her masculine parts.

“They’re likely already corrupted.” Kaitlyn said, walking around me, “If you’re not careful, this one will be as well. Do I detect purity in her?”

“You do.” Rachel confirmed.

“Fascinating.” Kaitlyn said, inspecting me closer. I was feeling very objectified, and shamefully okay with that objectification.

“What… um… what do you mean by ‘corrupted?’” I asked, my mind struggling to form words.

“Corruption of the soul is what happens when you accept your place in hell.” Kaitlyn explained, “I accepted this form as my true self, and so I became it, as did Rachel with her form, and Fantasia’s with hers.”

“You know my name?” Fantasia gasped from behind us.

“You’re Rachel’s oldest friend; I’ve heard so much about you.” Kaitlyn smiled warmly to the girl, and I swore Fantasia almost fainted.

“What happens if my mom and brother are corrupted?” I asked nervously.

“They are damned here forever.” Kaitlyn replied, continuing her advance toward me.

“That’s not true, Kaitlyn.” Rachel said, “If Lucy has caused their demise, then it is not natural, and can be reversed.”

“Lucy will make them do it themselves then.” Kaitlyn’s eyes trailed from my feet to my crown, “She is an artist of sorts, and I daresay her creations are as beautiful as they are terrible.”

“God is the only creator that matters.” Rachel replied, though I noted she said it with little conviction.

“And this child of God that you’ve brought me is exceptional, Rachel.” Kaitlyn said, smiling into my eyes as she stopped before me. She looked down, and slowly reached between my legs. My breath caught, my heart raced, but I did not try to stop her. I was held in equal parts terror and desire, not sure which compelled me more. Kaitlyn did not molest me though. She took the hem of my dress between her thumb and finger, and rolled the material, “This looks quite beautiful on you, Emily Huston.”

“Thank you.” I muttered.

“You think it makes you look like a whore.” Kaitlyn said, meeting my eyes again.

“Can you read my mind too?”

“I can read your face.” Kaitlyn smiled, “And it is wracked with uncertainty, insecurity and fear. Do you think it is bad to be beautiful as a whore is beautiful?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Kaitlyn replied softly, her body so close I could feel her warmth.

“I don’t know.” I whispered, my throat constricting in my neck.

“There’s no need to feel shame down here, Emily.” Kaitlyn said letting my dress fall from her fingers, “If you wish to accentuate your beauty with revealing clothing, no one will judge you for it.” Kaitlyn’s smile broadened, “I think it suits you brilliantly. The covering drape plays at your modesty, but the translucence juxtaposes it strikingly. You are not completely innocent.”

“No.”

“And you are ready to lose the last of that innocence.” Kaitlyn said, barely touching her fingers to my hips, but drawing me to her with that touch, “It is why Rachel has brought you to me. Do you want to lie with me, Emily Huston?”

“Yes.” I said, barely saying the word. My breath grew heavy, my legs became weak, my nethers ached and saturated with want. I ran away. I turned heel, and sprinted as fast as I could.

“Emily!” Rachel yelled. I didn’t pay attention to her. I was gripped with terror, and I didn’t know why. Maybe I was afraid of myself. I bolted around the corner, passed the van, and made a beeline for the circular hole in hell’s cavernous ceiling. It was massive, maybe a hundred miles wide and at least three times as far away, but I wasn’t thinking rationally. There was freedom. There was my escape from this nightmare.

“Emily, what the fuck?!” Fantasia’s voice was right behind me.

“Stay away!” I yelled back.

“You have to stay with Rachel! It’s not safe!”

“I don’t fucking belong here!” I screamed, my heart thundering, my sides aching. I stared fixedly at the hole, the nebula-painted starlight shining through it. Heaven was up there. God was up there. God, I prayed as I ran, I really need your help here. Save me, please. Save me before I belong here.

But there was no answer, and as my body weakened from the exertion, I became aware of how hopelessly stupid this all was. I slowed to a stop, panting, my gauze dress soaked through with my sweat. Fantasia stopped beside me, equally spent.

“I’m sorry.” I breathed heavily, “I just had a little freak out. I almost had my cherry popped by Bruce fucking Jenner.”

“That reference is lost on me, Emily.” Fantasia said, bent over with her hands on her knees.

“Forget it.” I said, finally catching my breath, “I just… I just can’t do it, you know? Rachel says I have to give up my virginity or Lucy will find me, but if I do that, then this…” I gestured around me, “…this is all real.”

“It is real, Emily.” Fantasia said levelly.

“I know,” I lamented, barely keeping the tears at bay, “but I want to pretend!”

“Hey.” Fantasia put her arm around me, “I was once human; I understand.” Fantasia took my face in her hands, “We’re going to get you and your family out, Emily, but you have to pull you weight.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Fantasia crinkled her nose affectionately, “Nobody apologizes down here. Now c’mon,” Fantasia took my hand in hers, “Kaitlyn is waiting for you. Don’t worry,” Fantasia winked at me, “I’ll be with you every step of the way. This is going to be fucking awesome. After you finally get all this puritan anti-sex bullshit out of your system, you and I can-”

The next thing that happened occurred with such violent swiftness, that I didn’t even register it until it was over. A massive eighteen-wheeler that looked like something out of Mad Max screeched to a halt in front of us, and the trailer doors were flung open. A thickly-callused hand clasped over my mouth, the forearm pinning me against a muscular torso. Fantasia’s scream was cutoff beside me when the demon’s other hand muted her in a similar matter. I didn’t know what to do. My mind was in a state of shock, the thoughts smashing against the wall of my panic. I just went limp in the arm holding me, some primal instinct telling me to play dead. My eyes caught Fantasia’s, and I watched as she thrashed and kicked against our abductor, writhing desperately to free herself. That was when it hit me. I was being taken. I was being thrown into the back of a semi-truck by a demonic truck driver who worked for the devil herself. I wrenched this way and that, bit into the hand of my attacker, kicked at his balls with the back of my heels, and tore at his forearm with my nails, but it was too late. I was thrown into the dark confines of the trailer, and the doors squealed on their hinges, then slammed. The tin echo sounded in the darkness, accompanied by the terrified breathing of the succubus beside me. The engine roared, and we moved.

DANIEL

I’d watched as the devil raped my mother. At least, I thought it was rape, but then I saw the look in my mom’s eyes, the pathetic love wrought in their depths, and I knew; this was all Mom’s fault. Now she crawled toward me, collared and leashed like the bitch she was. Though she looked the same as the last time I saw her, I hardly recognized her. Her movements were lithe and seductive, and her face was set into a lecherous mask. Or maybe it wasn’t a mask; maybe this was who she really was. My wrists and ankles were shackled to the chair, my neck was manacled, but I no longer felt the terror I had before. Only rage.

“You did this.” I growled. Mom only stared back, resignation in her blue eyes. Her strawberry-blonde mane draped over her hunched shoulders, concealing some of the tattoos that illustrated her entire body. I never knew she had so many; I’d never seen her naked before. “You’re the devil’s whore!” I yelled at her. Mom only nodded, continuing her subservient advance toward me. Her hips swayed with each shift of her legs, her supple ass spread in her bent position, her large breasts jiggling gently between her walking arms. The rage began to dissipate from me. There was determination in my mother’s eyes, like she’d resolved to do something she didn’t want to. My gaze rose to Lucy, the voluptuous devil leading my mother gently by the leash. Her amused smile confirmed my suspicion. “No.” I said, the fear rising back in me.

“Oh, yes.” Lucy grinned, her black-lipsticked mouth curving evilly. I knew there would be no reasoning with her. I turned back to Mom.

“Mom, you don’t have to do this!” I said frantically.

“I’m sorry.” Mom said, and though she did sound extremely regretful, her voice was affected with a wanting purr.

“Do you even know who I am?!” I yelled, straining in my bonds.

“You’re my son.” Mom said, and there was no doubt about the tone of her voice now. She hissed the word ‘son’ covetously, and her crawling gait devolved into the stalking shifts of a predator. Her hips rolled behind her, the globes of her ass protruding vulgarly, accentuated by the languorous arch of her back.

“Get away from me, you crazy bitch!” I screamed.

“Why would you say such things to your mother, Danny-boy?” Lucy chuckled, strutting to me as she lead her pet, “She only wants to love you.”

“Please Lucy, I’ll do anything you want!”

“I know you will.” Lucy’s grin curved wickedly. She stopped on my right side, and guided Mom by the leash until she knelt between my legs.

“Mom, you don’t have to do this!” I said again, my breath shuddering, “I know you made mistakes, but that doesn’t mean you’re lost.”

“I’m sorry, Daniel, but I’m already gone.” Mom said, lowering her head to my crotch.

“I forgive you!” I yelled, “The drugs, the rehab, the neglect; everything! It wasn’t your fault!” Mom stopped, looking uncertain. I could feel her breath against my sack, her lips barely an inch away. “It wasn’t you, Mom.” I said, grasping desperately for the moment she’d lent me, “It was Lucy. She made you do everything.”

“No, I chose this.” Mom said, though she seemed to be trying to convince herself.

“Did you ever have a choice?” I said, clinging on to this glint of doubt for dear life. Mom eased herself back onto her haunches, bewilderment playing across her face.

“I don’t know.” She muttered. She looked up at Lucy, her blue eyes narrowing, “Did I?”

“I always gave you a choice.” Lucy said, her golden eyes unwavering.

“She’s a liar, Mom.” I insisted, “She’ll say anything to get her way. She didn’t free you; she enslaved you when you were most vulnerable.”

Mom cocked her head, considering it. The lust she displayed filtered away from her, and when it was gone, I saw Mom as I remembered her. This was the woman who’d made me breakfast, who’d driven me to school, who had pizza-rolls ready in the oven when I came off the bus. This was my mother. Lucy drew her eyes to me, and I narrowed mine at her. She winked, then dropped the leash.

“If you feel like I’ve somehow tricked you, then I’m afraid I can’t accept you, Becky.” Lucy said, undoing Mom’s collar, “It is your choice, after all.”

Mom touched Lucy’s hand before she could remove the collar. “Don’t.”

“Mom…” I said warningly, my heartrate rising, “You don’t need her.”

“It’s your choice.” Lucy smiled down at my mom.

“You’re not who she says you are!” I yelled, my tone pleading.

“You are who you are, Becky.” Lucy let go of the collar, “No one can change that, not even me.”

Mom looked at me, the conflict raging behind her blue eyes. Then she dropped her eyes to her lap, and her shoulders slouched in surrender. “This is me, Daniel.” Mom said softly, a horrible resignation in her voice, “This is who I always was, and who I always wanted to be.” She looked up at me, a strange smile curving across her lips, “I only have to do one more thing, and I’ll finally be Lucy’s pet!”

“Mom, stop!” I yelled, but it fell on deaf ears. Mom looked back up at Lucy, adoration brimming from her face. She clasped her collar back in place, and Lucy took the leash. “No-no-no-no-no!” Mom neared my cock, her big eyes running down its flaccid length, horror and disgust battling in her lenses. By her expression, I thought the revulsion might compel her away, but I was wrong. It seemed that her abhorrence only entrenched her arousal, and soon her eyes were filled with perverse desire. “Mom, stop!” I pleaded a final time. Mom looked up at me, and my heart fell. Her eyes were glazed and distant, her pupils were dilated with lust. She poked her tongue from her lips, and slowly lowered her head. She licked me. Her tongue slid under my cock, flipped it onto my belly, and drew along it from base to tip. I couldn’t believe it, and neither could she. The realization of what she’d just done clarified her eyes, and she paused, horror and uncertainty breaching her lechery. Then her eyes glazed again, the lust even stronger because of her self-debasement, and she beamed up at me, a maternal smile that I’d seen a million times, now corrupted with perversion. She lowered her head, and licked my cock back and forth, back and forth; canine kisses from the devil’s dog. I gawked, staring in complete disbelief.

“Good girl.” Lucy snickered, petting Mom’s head as she lathered me. Never in my worst nightmares had my mind concocted this image, and yet, here it was. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to imagine anything that would keep me soft. Images of Emily filtered unbidden behind my lenses. Images of her between my legs, licking my shaft like a dutiful pup. My eyes flashed open with a gasp, and my vision was filled with the reptilian eyes of the devil.

“You will watch.” She grinned broadly, and the manacle that held my neck tilted until my head was aimed downward, forced to watch as Mom’s licks went from curious flicks, to impassioned tastes. She curled her tongue around my shaft, slithered it along my length, and rolled it about my head, taking her time to dip the tip into my aperture. I could feel the pull in my loins coming without my permission, the blood rushing in, the shaft swelling. I watched in horror as I became hard, and Mom eased herself back to let me stand proudly erect. Lucy chuckled lowly in my ear, her hands playing in my hair, her breasts pillowing comfortably against my side.

“Do you want your mommy to suck your cock, Danny-boy?” Lucy whispered, her forked tongue flicking my earlobe.

“You know I don’t.” I snarled.

“It doesn’t look that way.” Lucy said huskily, one of her hands trailing down my chest. She took a nipple between her thumb and forefinger, pinched, and twisted. I moaned. I couldn’t stop myself from expelling the sound, nor could I stop my cock from flexing in delight. Mom paused, tilting her head at me in canine curiosity.

“You’re like me, Daniel.” She said, a coy smile touching her lips.

“At least half of him is.” Lucy snickered, pulling my tortured nipple from my chest, “Not a purebred masochist, but a mutt of sorts. Maybe he’ll join you as my second doggy, would you like that, Pet?”

“Very-much, Master.” Mom nodded enthusiastically, then twisted her lips, “But… but only if I’m still your favorite.”

“You’ll always be my bottom bitch.” Lucy tousled Mom’s hair, “Now, let’s bring the wayward pup back into the pack, shall we?”

“Mom…” I begged again, though despair stole the desperation.

“You can join me, Daniel.” Mom smiled sweetly as she elevated her lips to my tip, “You and I can be her pets for eternity.”

“Can’t you hear yourself?!” I groaned as Lucy dug her nails into my nipple.

“It’s the shame that is causing you such pain.” Mom looked pitifully at me, “I remember shame. It’s what made me hurt myself all those years ago. Let me take the shame away.” Her lips brushed my throbbing head, “Then you can be free like me.”

“You’re a slave.”

“And so can you be. Join me.” She muttered, then dipped her tongue into the drop of precum that had formed at my apex. She tested the taste in her mouth, then smiled brightly up at me. “Now I know what your cum tastes like, Daniel. I can’t undo it, and I don’t want to.” She took a deep inhale of my loins, and a string of drool descended from the corner of her mouth, “I will take away all your shame.”

And she took me in, her lips sucking as she lowered her head, her throat constricting. She gagged and gurgled, her eyes watered, but she worked through the pain –because of the pain- until her muzzle was pressed into the flat of my pelvis, and her chin rested between my balls. It took my breath away.

“Look at that.” Lucy whistled sultrily, “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful as your mother deep-throating every inch of your cock?”

I didn’t have an answer. I just stared dumbfoundedly at my mom, her face reddening with the exertion of her consumption, but her eyes intoxicated. Her lips slurped hedonistically about my base, her throat coiled around my shaft, and her tongue flattened along my underside, curling to taste all that it could. Oh god, it was good. She mewled her struggle from the seal of her lips, each pained contraction of her throat fluttering against me, pulling me deeper. Then she ascended, her cheeks hollowing with her sucking mouth, her eyes staring half-lucidly at me. She drew to my tip, then went down. Lucy relinquished my nipple, and guided my mother’s head, watching me as she did it.

“I’ve spent an eternity living with you damned mortals.” Lucy’s voice dripped into my ear, “And if there is one truth amongst you, it is this; no one sucks cock quite like a mother does for her son.” Mom slurped her way to the crease of my cock, then rotated her lips there, her tongue flicking across my frothing tip. “It’s that maternal disposition I think; the desire to make everything all better.” Mom took her breasts by the piercings of her nipples, and laid them on my pelvis. The tattooed domes pillowed warmly, the pliant meat pressing upon my crotch, and surrounding me. “She just wants you to know she loves you, and there’s no love as tender as mother has for her baby boy.” She pushed her breasts together around me, the nipples pointing outward with the deformation, then she dropped her head again, her chin dividing her bosom, which then coalesced as she rose, concealing my freshly-lathered shaft with her warmth. It was an oddly maternal way for her to suck me, as much an attempt to comfort me as it was to pleasure me. I would’ve preferred that she just suck me like a whore, and remove any of our relationship from the act, but she didn’t. She made it clear that she was still my mom, and I was still her baby boy, just like Lucy said. I could feel my perception of her changing, my carnal mind corrupting her image with every lecherously maternal action she took. Had I ever noticed how great her body was? Had I ever appreciated the detail of her tattoos, how the many patterns and symbols contoured to the curves of her, how her pristine flesh was made a canvas for ink? Had I ever noticed how pretty she was? Emily looked just like her. I closed my eyes again, tightening them and turning my head, not caring if Emily’s visage formed in my mind. But it was only Mom. Mom’s mouth pulled gaunt to suck me, Mom’s neck bulging with my girth, Mom’s breasts squishing around me. Lucy’s laugh rang out in my head, cruel and sweet. I opened my eyes again, my heart thundering, panic overtaking the arousal. Mom’s eyes clarified when they saw mine, and she slowly withdrew.

“It’s OK, baby.” Mom whispered gently like she had some many times when I was young. Only when she was soothing me after a bad dream, a string of my cum wasn’t bridging her lips. She massaged my pulsing cock with her tits as she looked at me, her face full of love, “Mommy’s here. Mommy will make it all better.”

She rose, her ample bust rounding proudly over the flat expanse of her belly, which converged into a pelvis that opened to wide hips and thick thighs. My mother’s pussy was blushing and wet, the clit engorged and the slit dilated. I couldn’t form the words to protest any longer. I only stared, struck by her forbidden beauty, my eyes running covetously over every inch of her tattooed surface. The warmth of her radiated onto my crotch as her thighs overlapped my own, her belly relaxed into mine, and her breasts flattened against my chest. She stared into my eyes, our faces a breath apart.

“Will you kiss me, Daniel?” She asked, blue eyes filled with hope. I didn’t answer, but simply parted my lips. She leaned in, her gaze never breaking from mine. Our lips touched, electric tingles passing between them. Her breath was in my mouth, then her tongue was. I couldn’t stop myself. I locked my lips with hers, and joined our tongues, tasting her lust and love, marveling at the devouring nature of her mouth. She was atop me, and I was shackled, but she still felt like the submissive, following the lead of my passion as I poured my self-hatred, disgust and surrender into her. Oh, she was a sweet thing. She moaned into my mouth, needful whines as she pressed to me, her lips and tongue begging for me. My arms and legs flexed and fought in their restraints, desperate to be free. Lucy released me, but I didn’t attempt to fight or flee. My hands shot forward, the fingers sunk into my mother’s succulent flank, the heels pivoted to drive my pelvis upward.

“Make love to me, Daniel.” Mom whispered breathily into my mouth, “Show Mommy how you treat a woman.” I lined up my shot, pressed my tip to her petals, and drove every inch into her. She cried out, relief washing over her body, making her loose and languid everywhere but her insides, which contracted greedily around my girth, trying to take every inch of me into her heat. Our eyes stayed locked, the realization of what we’d just done dawning on us both. There was a fleeting moment where I felt the horror touch my mind, but then it was driven way by her tender smile, her eyes glinting, her quirked mouth gaping with pleasure. I growled around my own grin, and drove into her. She was still my mother, still the woman who had fed me, clothed me, and raised me, but the evolutionary wall that prevented our lust had been shattered, and now I saw her as a woman; lithe, supple, weak and wanting. She called my name as our pelvises collided, her juices wetting my crotch, her insides seizing with contractions. I took her hair in my hand, and drove her face to mine, our lips devouring below her wide, trembling eyes, shock and ecstasy warping them. She undulated against me, her shoulders pinching, her belly flexing, her pubis grinding against my crotch.

“Harder!” Mom cried, “Hurt me!”

Her tones were desperate, her body was slick, her breath was hot and heavy. I acted without thinking, and slid my gripping hands into my mother’s crack, found her dilated aperture, and pushed four fingers inside. Her head flung back, her breasts squished into my face, and her back dove in a painful arch.

“Yes!” She cried, tears filming her eyes, “That’s Mommy’s favorite hole! Tear it open!”

I did my damndest, adding another finger from each hand, and stretching. Her pussy convulsed around my driving cock, her body moved with a violent passion, gyrating in a debauched dance. I took a pierced nipple into my mouth, bit around the metal, and slowly pulled back. Mom’s mouth gaped into an oval, her eyes rolled into her head, and her hands gripped my shoulders in white-knuckled intensity. Her anus coiled around my invading fingers, daring me to gape her wider. I did. I rammed into her front hole as I opened her back, growling around my consuming teeth as I stretched her breast to a conical point. Her diaphragm heaved, her neck striated, and her teeth bared.

“Come inside me!” She screamed, her voice and body possessed with my pleasure. I was losing myself as well. I felt the familiar quake in my loins, the pulsing of my prostate and the tremble in my balls. I picked my mother up by her anus, heedless of her masochistic screeches, and I railed between her squatting legs, making a ruin of the entrance I’d been born from. Her petals became reddened and battered, her clit swelled from the abuse, and her moist depths squeezed me all the tighter, rewarding me for every defilement. I couldn’t take it any longer, with a final cathartic roar, I sullied my mother’s sanctity, blowing my load deep into her womb. She dropped on me, her entire body seizing, stuck in a lip-quivering, eye-bulging paralysis of euphoria. Then she caught her breath, and her body plastered against mine, heaving in the bouts of her release. Her gasping lips found mine, and we devoured each other, my invading fingers still squeezing her from the inside, her fingers entangling in my hair. We panted the vestiges of our climax, the heat dwindling between us. For a moment we just stared into each other’s eyes, wrapped up in the wonder of our forbidden lust. I withdrew my fingers from her exit, and she took my hands in hers, the delicate digits clasping gently. She brought my sullied finger to her lips, and watched me from coy eyes as she sucked each one clean.

“No shame, Daniel.” She said after the last of my fingers was pulled from her pursed lips, “No more limits. This is who you are now.”

“Mom…” I croaked. I didn’t know what to say. There were limits, and as the arousal dwindled from me, and reality took hold, I realized I’d passed them. I could feel my throat closing, my eyes blurring with shameful tears. Mom’s expression grew sorrowful, and she cupped my cheeks in her hands, bringing my face to hers.

“I love you so much, baby.” She whispered on my lips, “Mommy loves you more than anything. No shame, baby, no shame.”

“I can’t believe I did that!” I cried. Mom embraced me, her breasts pillowing my chest, arms hugging my shoulders as her erogenous muscles hugged my still-hard shaft.

“It’s Ok.” She insisted tearfully, “You made me feel so good, Daniel; didn’t I make you feel good?”

“D’aw, this is adorable.” Lucy cooed sarcastically from over Mom’s shoulder. Mom suddenly lurched forward, her head reeling back, her eyes bulging and her mouth moving soundlessly. I felt a hand grab me from inside my mother. Her vaginal floor indented with Lucy’s anal invasion, the fleshy membrane yielding five nodes that grasped about my cock. Mom lost herself then, eyes rolling into her head, mouth unhinging stupidly.

“Never send a masochist to do a sadist’s job.” Lucy chuckled at my mother’s rapturous face, wrapped a hand around her throat, and yanked her off my lap, leaving my manhood standing alone and engorged. Lucy was sporting her own erection, her hermaphroditic form completely feminine save for the masculine organ that stood at eye-level with me. She smirked at me, holding my mother against her by the throat, her other hand disappeared into her ass. “I know you inherited your mother’s proclivities, but there has to be some cruelty in you, Danny-boy.” Lucy said, easing Mom down, “After all,” her golden eyes glinted at me, “you got it from me.”

“What?!” I yelled. Through her fugue-state of masochistic euphoria, mother’s eyes clarified.

“So,” she smiled weakly, “that’s why you wanted him.”

“Both of them.” Lucy sniggered. Mom’s face lit up in pure joy. “That’s right, Pet; mystery solved.” Lucy said, pressing her cheek to Mom’s, and staring at me, their dual portrait a juxtaposition of expressions. “Forgive me for the theatrics, Danny-boy, but I can’t help myself, such a cinephile am I.” Lucy’s voice deepened to the iconic baritone of James Earl Jones, “Daniel Huston, I am your father.”

EMILY

I was in blackness, lying on the cold metal of the trailer, the roar of the diesel engine accompanying the bumps of the road. Fantasia was huddled in my arms, whimpering in fear. I tried to comfort her, but truth be told, I was even more terrified. What would be my fate? Eternal torture? Endless rape? Unending fire? This was the devil we were talking about, and I didn’t doubt she had torments so great my mind couldn’t comprehend them. I cursed my mother silently, hating her for making me a part of this. She’d be there, I knew. Whatever was to be my fate, I was sure she would witness it. This wasn’t about me, after all; Brian and I were just collateral.

The brakes squealed, and the truck slowed to a stop. There was the sound of a door slamming, then the sound of boots on gravel. I remembered a police seminar I’d had in high school. The best time to escape an abduction is when it first happens, but the second-best time is during transition periods, like being taken out of a truck. I prepared myself, trying to slow my heartrate and ease my breathing. The boots stopped at the back of the trailer, and I tapped Fantasia on the shoulder.

“We need to go!” I hissed.

“It didn’t work.” Fantasia mumbled, “Why didn’t my magic work on him?”

“We can’t worry about that right now!” I whispered, eyeing the slit of light between the doors, “You have to get up! This might be our last chance!”

She didn’t respond; whatever fight she’d had in her was long-spent. I eased myself off her, and crawled shakenly to the trailer doors, trying to suppress the sound of my movements. The moment those doors opened, I would jump out and run as fast as I could. I heard the latch creak, then snap out of place with a clang. I eased myself into a squat, ready to spring outward.

The doors flung open, light blinded me, and hot air bathed my skin. I bolted with all my strength, flew from the open doors, and into the waiting arms of the demonic truck driver. He pulled me against his chest, his muscled forearms like a vice around my shoulders. I struggled, bit and scratched, screaming at the top of my lungs, but it didn’t matter. He grabbed the defeated succubus, then carried us dispassionately onward, away from the truck and to a derelict warehouse that stood precariously on the edge of a cliff. I’d seen too many horror movies not to know where this was going. The twisted concrete and rebar structure evoked images of rusty hooks, cleavers, and saws, all hanging by chains from rafters lit by shafts of dull sunlight. I could practically hear the metal song they made as they dangled, the corroded sharp edges glinting before my eyes. I relaxed into a horrified stupor, my limbs going soft with the realization that this was it; this was the end. My eternal destiny was in that warehouse, and it would be every-bit as terrible as the worst Wes Craven movie.

REBECCA

I always thought Daniel and Emily were half-siblings. I’d conceived each of them in a bondage gangbang (directed by none other than Lucy herself) and always regretted not knowing which men fathered them. It was a joy to know that my children were both fully-fledged siblings, and the offspring of the woman I loved. My master.

“No fucking way.” Daniel said, his face wrought with horror. He still couldn’t accept what he’d done, and he was having an even harder time accepting who he was.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Danny-boy, I have thousands of bastards.” Lucy sneered, her fist digging into me. I gasped, my legs growing weaker with every inch she invaded.

“You tortured me!” Daniel exclaimed, “You ate my ass! You sucked my dick!”

“Didn’t I say no one sucks cock like a mother does her son?” Lucy smirked, lathering her lips, “I hope it holds true for daddy as well; I’d hate to be the black sheep of the family.”

“You sick fuck!”

“I’m getting awfully sick of your hypocrisy, Danny-boy.” Lucy frowned, “After all, you’re the one who wants to fuck his sister.”

“What?” I said, barely registering the conversation. Oh, the way Lucy’s knuckles pressed into my anal flesh….

“That’s right,” Lucy grinned at me, “Our son wants to fuck our daughter. You raised him just… perfectly.”

“For you.” I said, though we both know it was a lie. I was getting desperate, dangling at the end of her fist, “Please!” I begged, gasping the words, “I have done all that you have asked!”

“But I want more,” Lucy growled, turning me to face her, “You should know by now, Becky, that I always want MORE!” And she pulled her fist out of me, turning me inside-out once more. I screamed in abject agony and euphoria, but my master did not give me a chance to enjoy it. My hands were shackled together behind my back, and my ankles were shackled to Daniel’s, my feet standing atop his, my calves pressed to his shins. I teetered for a moment, then fell backward, the backs of my knees overlapping his kneecaps, and I landed in the only spot I could. My son pierced me, his cock driving my budded anus back inside me, burrowing fiercely into my sinful depths. My chest shot forward, my breasts jiggling forth atop my heaving diaphragm, my lungs giving air to a primal scream. Daniel moaned behind me, taken by the tightness of his penetration. I loved to hear him moan. I tightened my anal muscles around him, trying to milk my baby-boy with my tight filth, savoring every bump and vein that pulsed against my thin, nerve-swathed sheath. I turned over my shoulder to look at him, my expression wrought with gratitude.

“I’m just a filthy whore, Daniel.” I said hoarsely, “I can be your filthy whore if you want.”

“Mom…” Daniel groaned, unable to stop himself from grabbing my supple cheeks, and spreading to see how deep he was in my ass.

“No shame.” I breathed, spreading both our legs, “I’m a sick, masochistic slut, and you’re a degenerate. It’s just what you are.”

“What he is, is a fucking pussy.” Lucy laughed in front of me, taking me by the thighs, “But I guess that should be expected, not having a father and all.” She grinned over my shoulder at my -at our– son, “Fortunately, I’m of the belief that it’s never too late for family.” I thought she’d take my empty womanhood, but she didn’t. No, she pressed her tip to the base of Daniel’s shaft, and allowed me a single second with which I could come to the horrible realization.

“Master, wait, I… oh… uh… ah… AAAAAAH!” My head flung back, my hair whipping in arc, my eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Lucy’s tip dilated my already-stretched sphincter, turning the circle into a tortuous oval so that she could stuff herself inside me beside my son. I mouthed soundlessly, my hands turned to claws, my entire body rigid in pure, perfect agony. Lucy bit her lip as she forced the last of herself inside, elevating me momentarily between their shafts, before my rim couldn’t hold taut any longer, and gave out, causing me to slide slowly and agonizingly down, taking every inch of both. Daniel gasped behind me, his fingers digging intensely into my succulent flank, his legs quivering beneath mine.

“Oh fuck, Mom.” He groaned, “You’re so tight like this!”

“Your mother’s always been a tight little slut.” Lucy said breathily, her red bosom heaving in its leather bodice. She dropped her chin, her cruel golden eyes shadowed by her brow. I loved that look; it meant worse was coming. “Come on, Danny-boy, let your old man teach you a few things.” She laid her hands atop Daniels, grabbed my ass with his fingers, lifted me to the crease of their joined members, then dropped me. I was impaled and stretched beyond my limit, wracked with searing shocks of pain, and taken with the ecstasy of it.

“More, please, more!” I begged, my hands knotting together behind my back. Again, Lucy guided me up with Daniel’s hands, and again, I was dropped. My heels pressed into the tops of Daniel’s feet, my legs spread on their own accord, taking Daniel’s with me. I quivered all over, wracked with spasms, a slave to the sensations that ran traffic through my spine. My pussy leaked down the ribbon of my taint, drooling nectar to filter into my gaping shithole. “More.” I whispered to Lucy, strands of hair filtering my possessed stare, “Give me more.”

“You see, Daniel,” Lucy pontificated, brushing the hair from my face, “your mother is a special kind of woman.” Lucy eased me upright once again, my anus turning outward as it stretched open, “She might come if you just fuck her, and she might enjoy it, but what she lives for, is the pain.” Lucy dropped me. My ass squished into my son’s lap as his cock burrowed through me without any more resistance, so ruined was my channel. It was perfect. “Not just physical pain, mind you, but emotional pain as well.” I lifted myself on my own accord now, and Lucy smirked at me, “Come on, Daniel,” Lucy said as I rose, “let’s see the devil in you. I know it’s there. I know what you want to do to your precious little sister.”

“Do it to me, Daniel.” I said, looking at him from over my shoulder as my exhausted rim loosely grasped their joined tips, “Practice on me, and we’ll take her together.” That pushed him over. I saw his eyes grow cold, and his confusion fade away. There was only determination now, a ruthlessness that made me shudder with both fear and desire. Lucy eased her hands off his, and rested hers upon my spread thighs. Daniel watched me as he snaked one hand along my waist, and dangled the fingers between my legs. With the other hand, he grabbed my leash. I smiled at him, hopeful and beaming with pride. He wrapped his hand with the leash, yanked my head back, pinched my engorged clit, and torqued. I cried out, the pain racing through my limbs, washing through my body like a relief. My legs gave out, and I dropped. Their dual cocks ravaged my depths, opening my inner resistances and bulging in my colon. I screamed again, the sound strangled by the pull of the leash, the collar digging deliciously into my neck. I tried to close my legs around the agonizing pain Daniel delivered to my clit, but Lucy held them firmly open, leaving me exposed. They thrusted as one, pushing me up between them, their movements accelerating. I rose and fell, my strangulation a constant through it all, my neck striated as Daniel wrapped more and more of the leash around his hand. Soon, I was squeaking my pain and pleasure, my vision blurring, only the sensations keeping me in the moment. The sharp burn of my tortured clitoris, the deep defilement of my anal abuse, the stretching ecstasy of my penetration, and the growing pressure above my throat. Through it all, the pleasure built, and built. Daniel locked his knees between my legs, forcing them wide so that Lucy could torment my breasts. She pinched each nipple by the piercing, and torqued the domes to spirals of fat. I croaked through my narrowed windpipe, each stimulation accentuated by my nearness to unconsciousness.

Rivulets of sweat dripped between my pinched shoulders, rolled between my clapping glutes, and saturated the ruby ruin of my shithole. The pleasure rose, my mind becoming not but flashing images of crimson flesh, golden eyes and a black corset. I felt a pair of lips against mine, and I opened them to the invitation of a slithering forked tongue. She kissed me, my master did, kissed me as she ravaged me, as she made my son do the same. I loved her for it, loved her for this moment. My hips began to undulate through their thrusting and the dropping of my pelvis, a sensual dance that moved expertly to the rhythm of my abuse. I was wholly me, a slave and a victim, and I knew the samba of my part. Lucy played hers to perfection, and though Daniel was still unrefined and boorish with his newfound sadism, I could tell he was learning fast. Lucy pulled from the kiss, smiling lovingly into my eyes. Then she slapped me, her open palm meeting one cheek, then the back of her hand meeting the other. Again and again, my head was whipped from side to side, my senses were forced into clarity, combating the dulling effect of my asphyxiation. I yelped soundlessly, my muscles clenching with each blow, my insides seizing around their members, but the languorous rock of my hips never ceasing, for it was automatic. The pleasure built past the point of no return, a churning in my bowels, a fire in my clit, an empty ache in my nethers, all culminating together to rage deep within me. The feeling ballooned, causing me to thrash and buck, the rock of my hips becoming violent. Daniel held my torso stretched, the collar sinking into my neck, turning my face into a purple mask of leaking spit and bulging eyes. Those eyes rolled back now, consciousness teetering on the edge, walking the line where ecstasy tortured me. I screeched soundlessly to the void, my legs trembling, my hands wringing, my back arching to painful concavity.

“Fill the bitch’s cunt!” I heard Lucy scream from somewhere. My bowels were evacuated, and I felt a pair of cocks slide up my taint, and enter my sanctity simultaneously. It pushed me over. The new pain and pleasure, the pulsing heat pressing on all sides of my womanhood, the eruption of seed deep into my womb. They came together, their joined cocks flexing and throbbing as they thrusted with a fervency, sullying my fertility with their anally-sheened rods. I loved it. Their penetration was lubricated with the spunk they spilled into me, coating my walls. As I exalted in the throes of my release, I felt consciousness ebb from me. Used, abused, desecrated, and wholly satisfied, I noticed a change come over me, but I didn’t know what. I felt… complete.

EMILY

The demon carried me onto a broken-down loading dock, the springs of the garage door detached and dangling from the threshold. Beside me, I could hear the resigned and terrified whimpers of Fantasia, but I couldn’t see her. There was only the blackness before me; my endless future. My brain had helpfully concocted exactly what was going to happen to me in there. First, they’d saw my limbs off with a rusty blade, then they’d disembowel me, then pierce me with hooks and dangle me from the ceiling, then they’d skin me, then scalp me, then rape me forever. The end. Thanks, brain. Oh, and they’re also going to gouge out your eyes. Stop. No, wait, they’re actually going to leave your eyes so that you can see yourself in the ceiling mirror. Why you do this? Don’t forget the acid! I hope they give me a lobotomy first, you asshole. I’m just trying to prepare you for the inevitable. It’s probably going to be so much worse than even I can imagine. Wow, you’re a real help. They’re definitely going to give you paper-cuts. You monster.

I entered the warehouse as I battled my subconscious, momentarily distracted from the horror that would befall me. That distraction slowly fell away when the dim light hit my eyes, and I saw where I was. It was like my mind had created this place. Beams of dim light shown through the rafters, where heavy-gaged chains hung, bearing the rusted sharp edges of bone-saws, cleavers, hooks, and axes. There were even the hanging carcasses of indiscernible animals, though on closer inspection I saw that they were dismembered and skinned human torsos. That was a nice touch. At the center of the room was a box-spring bedframe with rusted iron manacles where my wrists, ankles and neck would go. Hanging just above the bed, in-line with where my torso would be, was a curved pendulum blade. Also, a nice touch. A hooded figure stood solemnly by my new bed, arms crossed.

“First, we’re going to saw your limbs off with a rusty blade!” A voice cackled from the hood. It sounded female, and was ragged with ag. I was forced onto the bed, but I offered no resistance. “Then we’re going to disembowel you!” The old woman proclaimed, gesturing to the pendulum blade overhead. I tried to swallow, but my throat was parched beyond lubrication. “Then we’re going to pierce you from hooks, and dangle you from the ceiling!” The hooded figure stooped over me, but her face was concealed in shadow. “Then we’re going skin you, then scalp you, then rape you forever!” My torturer let out a hideous, terrible laugh, and it echoed through the warehouse, joining the symphony of metallic sounds made by my torture devices. If I had any urine left in my bladder, that laugh would’ve compelled it from me. There was no mercy in it. My neck was fettered, my wrists and ankles were cuffed, and I was left to the attendance of my hooded warden. She looked down at me, and her laugh turned suddenly very melodic.

“Holy hell, you mortals are deranged!” the voice behind the hood laughed, but it had changed drastically. It sounded like a young woman’s. She pulled back her hood, and a face of gentle beauty was revealed to me. Golden-blonde hair braided about her head like a crown, blue eyes glimmered from a youthful face creased with smiling lines, and those lines were born of lush, pink lips that quirked without even the hint of malice. “First of all, where would I even find someone willing to torture you for eternity? There are some sick fucks who live down here, but even they want vacation time. Demons unionize, you know. Fucking liberals.”

“Wha…” I trailed off, staring dumbly up at her.

“And torture gets so boring after a while.” The woman lamented, “After about a month, everyone is just faking it. That’s why it’s always volunteer-based down here. You can’t really enjoy being tortured unless there’s free will. Otherwise, it’s like being forced to work at an amusement park.”

“Enjoy… being… tortured…?” I was beyond confused.

“Yes.” The woman sighed wistfully, “Is there anything as exhilarating as being under the control of a sadist with a sharpened cutlery set and no limits? To see your body turned into a Picasso painting…” The woman rolled her eyes delectably, “…truly an experience.”

“I… um…” I looked down at myself, “So… are you going to torture me, then?”

“What?” The woman shook herself from her daydreaming, “Of course not! Holy hell, Emily, who do you think I am?!”

“You’re Lucy, right?” I asked, “You’re the devil.”

“I wish.” The woman huffed, “She has all the fun.” The woman glanced across the room, “Gabriel, you can put Fantasia down now. And take off that ridiculous disguise!”

Turning to my left, I saw the demon who had carried Fantasia was now wearing a white robe. His skin was tan instead of red, his feet bore sandals instead of hooves, and his face was a marvel of chiseled bones and golden hair. And he had wings. At his feet, Fantasia gawked wide-eyed, all of the terror gone from her. I turned back to the woman, and the hooded cloak she wore was gone, displaying a heavenly body generously revealed by an elegant evening gown. She glowed with power.

“I believe you called for me.” The woman grinned.

“God?” I asked carefully. God winked back.

DANIEL

We sat in a great circular room, the walls painted violet, velvet drapes hanging from the high ceiling, plush carpeting covering the floor. Lucy was no longer in her constraining leather, but a draping nightgown that laid exquisitely about her curves. My head rested in her bosom, her clothing translucent in the firelight, allowing me a view of her pink nipple standing taut from her crimson breast. It was the only thing that stood erect now, for Lucy was completely female, and obviously feeling somewhat maternal. I guess she had to, for she was my other mother (as I refused to think of Lucy as my dad), and my birthmother was curled up before the fireplace, snoozing contentedly.

“So,” I said, softly, “this is who Mom really is.”

“Yes.” Lucy replied with equal softness, her fingers playing in my hair. Mom was naked, the hand prints on her tattooed flesh evidence of our earlier bout, as well as the discoloration around her throat. Oh, and the demonic horns that jutted from her brow, the pointed dog ears that protruded from her blonde mane, plus the bushy tail that extended from the base of her spine. “She is ‘Pet.’” Lucy said.

“This is how she’ll be forever?” I asked.

“She has corrupted her soul, and chosen damnation.”

I noticed the way Mom’s belly rounded below her breasts, and I frowned. “Yes,” Lucy chuckled, “that was why I made you spill yourself inside her with me, mixing our seed in conception. She’ll birth pups tonight, demonesses like her, and by tomorrow they will be fully-grown for us to enjoy.”

“What?!”

“Hell-spawn mature fast. I don’t want Chris Hansen knocking on my door.”

“No, I mean-”

“Yes, you are going to be a father and a brother.” Lucy interrupted, placing a silencing finger on my lips, “And I am going to be… a father and a grandfather. Huh, haven’t done that one yet.”

“You think I’m going to fuck my own kids?!”

Lucy smirked crookedly. “You seem to forget where you are, dear son of mine. Down here, depravity is not only the norm, it is the rule. If something is abhorrent, then that something must be done. The human spirit is a twisted, vial, disgusting thing, and I take great pleasure in proving it to the lady upstairs day-in and day out.”

I had questions there, but Lucy’s expression didn’t invite them. I frowned, and looked at my mother. She was bathed in the glow of the fireplace, her feminine and maternal curves softened by the ambient heat. Even now, seeing her without her lust displayed, I felt the pull in my loins. I scowled back up at Lucy, and saw her knowing golden glint. I was damned for sure, and it was only a matter of time before my corruption manifested itself upon my flesh. What form I would take, I did not know. One thing was certain though; it would undeniably be brought about by my sister. And for that, I prayed silently to the lady upstairs, hoping beyond hope that Emily would stay far, far away from me.

EMILIY

The warehouse had changed to a cozy living room of wood furnishings and quilted covers. The hellscape was still present outside the window however, which meant we hadn’t actually moved. The angel Gabriel stood stiffly with his hands behind his back, trying vainly to ignore the succubus who ogled him. I sympathized with the man, and tried my damndest not to ogle him in turn. He was gorgeous.

“So, how are you liking hell?” God asked casually, offering me a cup of tea.

“It’s… hell.” I muttered, taking the tea.

“A fitting deion.” God smiled warmly. I just nodded, completely unsure of how to act. “Oh, don’t put on airs for me, Emily.” God chuckled, reading my mind, “I know, I know,” God waved a hand, “that gets annoying.”

I sipped my tea with her, the only sounds between us being the slurping of our lips. I’d been more comfortable when I thought I was about to get tortured. Now I just stood there, occasionally daring a glance at her, only to look sharply away when I met her eyes. Maintaining eye contact with the ruler and creator of existence itself was too daunting a prospect for me. Plus, she definitely knew my browser history, incognito mode be damned. God smiled kindly and expectantly the whole time, unaffected by the awkwardness that consumed me.

“I like your dress.” God said. I looked down at the translucent garb that concealed absolutely nothing. Great, I’m showing God my pussy.

“Fantasia picked it out.” I mumbled, crossing my legs.

“I figured.” God grinned, then shared a smirk with Fantasia.

“I’m sorry, do you two know each other?” I asked.

“We’ve crossed paths on occasion.” Fantasia snickered, slyly smelling her fingers.

“Yeah…” God giggled, bringing the tea to her lips, “we’ve bumped into each other from time to time.” God dipped her tongue into the cup.

Gabriel cleared his throat, face reddening, his jaw working,

“Oh, blow it out your ass, you judgmental prick.” God said snidely to him.

“Yes, Your Holiness.” Gabriel replied subserviently, his posture as stiff as a soldier’s, but his expression wrought with grave disappointment. God turned to me, and rolled her eyes.

“I gave that man the looks of an Adonis and a nine-inch cock, and he decided I wanted him to be celibate. Can you believe that shit? If I handed you a winning lottery ticket, would you think I wanted you to be poor?”

“Um…” I said, beyond perplexed, “…maybe he thought it was a test?”

“Why does everyone think I’m giving them a test?!” God lamented to the ceiling, “Is it so hard to think that I just want to be nice? Can a gift not be a gift at face value?”

“I think the bible says-”

“Stop. Right. There.” God said, punctuating each phrase with her finger, “If I have to hear one more thing about what my asshole son did back on-”

“YOUR HOLINESS!” Gabriel bellowed, “You speak of Christ Almighty, the savior and deliverer, the messiah and the prophet!”

“I will clip your wings, birdie, I swear I will.” God ground her teeth, and Gabriel resumed his soldierly stance, not in the least-bit intimidated by his divine charge. I got the feeling that his judgement and her scorn were the bedrock of their relationship.

“I’ve got family issues too.” I said, searching for a connection with God, “My mom’s kind of a train wreck, and I sometimes think Daniel’s on the spectrum.”

“You’re father’s a real piece of work too.” God said, giving me a furtive look.

“You know my…” but of course she did. I never wanted to know the man myself. Any bastard who would run from his own family was not someone I would ever call “father.” Mom had the good fortune of being impregnated by two such bastards, which didn’t say much about her. God apparently was listening to my stream of conscious, because she folded her lips inward, and kept them sealed.

“So…” I said, clearing my throat, “should we leave then?”

“Leave?” God smiled confusedly at me, and the world exploded. The walls were turned to splinters, the furniture was evaporated, and the roof was sent rocketing into the stone sky above. White flame without heat filled my vision, and then faded to reveal Rachel and Kaitlyn, armed to the teeth with weaponry, their blue eyes aiming down the barrels of assault rifles.

“God?” Rachel asked, taking her eyes off the sight. Kaitlyn immediately lowered her weapon, but Rachel kept it up, pointed blasphemously at the Almighty’s head.

“Rachel!” God threw her arms out in greeting, “How good of you to-” and her head exploded into pink mist. Gabriel screamed, brandished a gilded sword, and charged Rachel. He was gunned down a second later, his head jerking back, his body dancing to the rhythm of bullets. I gawked, staring disbelievingly at the pair of divine corpses, blood and brains decorating the floorboards. Rachel lowered her weapon, smoke trailing from the end of the barrel, her steely eyes cold and dead.

“That seemed wholly unnecessary.” God’s corpse said, the hole in her head closing between her eyes.

“You don’t think you deserved it?” Rachel raised an eyebrow, then pinched her fingers before her face, “Not even a little bit?”

“People make mistakes; no one’s perfect.” God grumbled, looking somewhat ashamed. Gabriel groaned on the ground, holding his outturned belly. “Oh, get up.” God snapped at him.

“I told you to stay out of this.” Rachel glowered at God as Kaitlyn helped the fallen angel to his feet.

“And I decided not to listen to you.” God sneered, combing the brains out of her hair, “Last time I checked, I’m in charge of… literally everything.”

“Not down here. Not anymore.” Rachel said gravely, “You’re risking too much by coming here. If Lucy gets her hands on you…”

“That’s why I brought a guardian angel with me.” God gestured derisively to the blood-spattered angel. Rachel gave God a frank look, but God wasn’t deterred. “He’s incorruptible, Rachel.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“Well, it’s actually true for him.” God said snidely, and I saw Rachel’s frown deepen.

“Her Holiness makes a point of testing my resolve whenever she can.” Gabriel sighed. Judging by the way Kaitlyn and Fantasia were looking at Gabriel, they were going to put his incorruptibility to the test as well.

“Why are you here anyway?” Rachel asked.

“Emily called for me, and I came to her rescue.” God said, lifting her chin proudly, “I am a benevolent and compassionate God, and I could not stand idly by while one my flock was left to stray in this wasteland,”

“You kidnapped me.” I muttered, but no one paid me any heed. I was becoming increasingly aware that this whole ordeal; Mom, Daniel and me, was just the backdrop to something bigger. Rachel narrowed her eyes at the posturing deity, and God’s lips twisted, then broke out into a wide grin.

“OK,” she confessed guiltily, “I was just bored. Heaven gets so dull, and I couldn’t just let you and Lucy have all the fun without me!”

“Fun?!” Rachel ground her teeth.

“Fun!” God giggled, raising her arms above her head, “You were going to go on a quest to save Daniel and Rebecca, right? And you needed two more members to complete your squad, right? Let’s see, you’ve got the damsel in distress,” God gestured to me, “the aloof sidekick,” God pointed at Fantasia, “the cool chick,” God addressed the not-entirely-female ‘cool chick’ that was Kaitlyn, “and you’re the emotionally-distant badass, right?” Rachel glared at God, but God didn’t care, “So all you need is the brawny, well-intentioned idiot,” God gestured to Gabriel, “and the smart hacker chick.” God gestured to herself.

“You’re the ‘smart hacker chick.’” Rachel said with such incredulity that it wasn’t even a question.

“I know everything.” God said indignantly, “I don’t see why I can’t play the nerd.”

“You might know everything, but you’re still dumb as shit.” Rachel replied. Gabriel snorted his agreement, and God glared at him. There was a lull in the argument, and I worked up the courage to fill it.

“Can you just send me home now?” I asked God, “You’re omnipotent, right? So… should I click my heels three times, or…”

“Sorry Emily, but I’m not the master here.” God said, regarding the endless cavern, “I can do a few tricks, but not much else. Still,” she gave me a dazzling smile, “I think I’ll be a great teammate.”

“Well, she has to come along now.” Rachel sighed, “Hell’s easy to get into, but there’s only one way out.” She looked out at the vast hellscape, the enormous hole in the ceiling looming miles and miles above us. It looked to be an impossible height to reach, even with wings, but I guessed ‘impossible’ wasn’t a thing anymore. I squinted my eyes, and barely discerned a narrow beam of red light that shot from the top of a distant spire, and blazed through the center of the hole. A portal, I guessed.

“Did it ever occur to you that this whole thing with the Huston family was just Lucy’s attempt to get you down here?” Kaitlyn asked God.

“Of course, it is!” God laughed.

“You always make things so much more difficult than they need to be.” Rachel muttered.

“That’s what I’m here for!” God tittered, then with a wave of her hand, her gown transformed into tight-fitting jeans, Vans sneakers, a plastered-on ‘Slayer’ t-shirt, and thickly-rimmed square-framed glasses. She did her golden hair up in a ponytail, completing her “nerd” look, then with another (probably unnecessary) wave of her hand, the semitruck from before appeared. “Hop in, gang!” God giggled from the front seat, and pulled the horn twice. I gawked at her, then back at the crew. Kaitlyn seemed mildly amused, Gabriel seemed deeply disappointed, Fantasia seemed almost as giddy as God, and Rachel was frowning at me, her blue eyes studying me closely.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing.” Rachel said, then climbed into the cab of the truck.

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