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We all shuffled forward another few steps. That I should be in this queue at all was an insult to my lord, but They were entirely unlikely to address the insult. She counted on that, I was sure.
Poggle cast it’s gaze about nervously at my heel. The impish little freak that served as my thrall seldom left our domain with me, but even it’s miserable business was better than my own. The skittish wretch had assuredly noticed that I wasn’t garbed as the rest of the parishioners were, lacking the loose brown hood and robe that the thousand other waiting beings wore.
I wasn’t here as one of them though, so I didn’t see any need to don the supplicant’s dress; this evident difference was surely the sole contributing factor in my exclusion from the idle chatter and gossip that others around me partook in.
“Nearly a hundred years I’ve stood in this infernal line, at least!” squelched one near me his compatriot.
“How would you even know that, you thrice damned fool?” she retorted. They fell to fits of giggling. To discover humor in the apparent lack of time in this place is about as banal an excuse for conversation I could possibly imagine. Might as well talk about the weather.
Still, it had been a long time, even for me; I’d managed to bribe my way nearly to the front quarter before the bids for advancement outmatched my lord’s price. Petty trades for safe passage through our territories were fine, but promising our lord’s souls to another was entirely off limits for something this mundane. I was here to parley and leave. Nothing else.
We all shuffled forward again, another few sliding steps across the dusty bare rock, lit by only the the low burning braziers along the path. Poggle gnawed happily on a rock, slobbering gratuitously at my side. A chlorine stench from ahead assured me that we were close; I’d been told that her chambers might offend certain senses, but I had imagined that decency might be chief among those.
I am, as you may suspect already, the majordomo to the infernal lord of the sixth circle, Be’liakh, and this is Hell.
“Close now?” Poggle croaked.
“Yes, close now” I told it. It waggled it’s underbit chin to signal approval.
As if on queue, the slovenly guards of this place came into sight, foul bloated things, closer in appearance to great hogs than anything you’d want guarding the shrine at the heart of your lair. One of them pulled a wooden cart along while a pair of others collected the robes of those closer to the front than I was. One of Her acolytes, a familiar looking creature in the aspect of the order of the second circle, the succubae, supervised their work. In a near parody of anything authentically arousing, she wore a robe spun from much finer material than the queuing worshippers, with most of the front missing to expose her overwrought features; pendulous breasts pieced with gaudy gold rings and an engorged pussy framed by foul runic tattoos of black against her crimson flesh. Several of the newly disrobed supplicants enjoyed the sight of her tremendously, and began to paw at themselves, stroking themselves and gawping openly. A sly wink or blown kiss from her sent a number of them into full apoplexy. Her entourage neared me.
“Thing” she said, seeing me now as they drew closer. Her compatriots continued their collection.
“Fuck you” I replied, incensed by the reference to the fact that I had no name to speak of. She laughed as she came to stand near me.
“Running errands for Him now then? How thoroughly depressing” she said conversationally. One of her idiotic colleagues bleated at me as it held out a hand, seemingly too stupid to notice that I lacked a robe to give it. Poggle bared all eleven of it’s teeth at the beast in my defense.
“Not him you oaf, go to the next one” she said. The thing shuddered at the sound of her voice, and something dribbled to the floor from behind it’s loincloth. I let Poggle lap it up. She smiled down at it.
“Apparently standing in this accursed line in the only way to get Her attention anymore; you’ve ignored all our messages and killed several of the poor sods who carried them I’d imagine, so I’ve been sent in person”.
“Person,” she laughed “that’s quaint. And the messengers aren’t dead; they just preferred to stay”. Cheers from ahead drew both of our eyes for a moment; one of her sisters had begun to anoint waiting demons, ghouls, devils, and all the other waiting wretches, spitting on the forehead of each and drawing an upside-down cross in the spit with her impossibly long tongue. Several of them failed to compose themselves and came as she did so. To have some so far only to fail here was an embarrassment beyond measure. She looked back to me.
“I can’t imagine why” I said. We continued to shuffle on, and she stayed with me while her companions folded some of the robes clumsily nearby. She informed me that the messages had been received, but that her Mistress was incensed by the lack of offered reciprocity; until my lord was prepared to remunerate Her in some way, there was no need to answer. I admitted that it was odd for my master to have allowed for such an oversight, which seemed all too amusing to her. The familiarity with which she spoke to me told me that I should remember having met her, but the mind of a heretic, such as I am, is an exceptionally poor place to store memories. The stone arch came into view now, and the rancid stench burned my eyes. I was close.
“Regardless of your mission here, nameless one, no audience will be granted to one clothed such as you are”. She was right, and I knew it. I begrudgingly began to disrobe, baring my scarred form slowly. Her eyes scanned me uncomfortably, reading the story that my scored flesh told. She commented, sounding almost reverent.
“Such sacrifice” she breathed.
“The war in heaven cost some of us more than just our names” I told her. She took my hand, and pulled me out of line. My lord had made no error in sending me, of all Their sons, to handle this. Maybe the price had been struck between them after all, I mused as she pulled me along. My lord was not at all times given to sharing these details with me.
The seductress guided me past the rest of the line expeditiously, to the outrage of the parishioners. Her sister paused in her anointing and turned to opinion, but a sharp look between them warned her against it. I might not have a name but what I am, and who I have been is hard to miss.
She led me through the gate and into Her chamber. Whereas I am difficult to title or refer to, She has countless names, innumerable methods of being called. I have at all times known her simply as The Ruinous Thirst, and she lay there before me, languid and massive, in her pool. A high chamber with windowed galleries cut into the rock along either side, poorly lit, led the length of the inner sanctum, terminating in the raised pool that she nearly never left. Around the walls of her tremendous tub, concentric rings of stone rose nearly to the rafters. Dozens of her swine-like thralls sat in padded seats along these rings, every one of them pleasuring its grotesque member while they all groaned and screamed their awful cries. Members of my guide’s sisterhood moved among the aisles above, ensuring that those who neared their completion directed their foul omissions into the trough at their feet. The interlinked channels of each tier carried their abhorrent seed to a spout above her pool, which seemed to flow in an unceasing river of their cum. It was not a subtle aesthetic.
She was not given to subtlety though. She was, in truth, massive. Not obese, though she was surely solid enough to crush the tiled floor of the room underfoot, were she to ever leave her disgusting bath; she easily doubled my height. The pond she lay in was cut in an oblong shape, shallow at the far end for her to recline but deep enough near the closer edge that she might even stand at the ledge without exposing more than her shoulders to the bare air if she chose. She sat out at the far end now, arms around the ledge of the rim, spanning nearly a dozen feet or more, her lower body hidden beneath the surface of her rejuvenating bath. Her chest was proudly bare, save some decorative chains that made for an outlined facsimile of a top. I briefly allowed myself to stare in awe at the breasts she allowed to be seen now, wondering if I could nestle myself bodily between them for a nap.
The worshippers who had gained access to her chamber stepped up to the ledge of her pool; those with cocks ejaculated their small contributions in tribute to her, while those without such anatomy were permitted to lower cupped hands to the surface and draw some of the fluid to their lips before being ushered away by attendants. I was bade to kneel by my guide.
“You are welcome here, nameless one”. Her voice was a bass rumble that I felt in my chest. Her words sent the gallery of beasts into a fit, and the spout surged with a near wave of fresh, hot cum. She laughed, not unpleasantly, and reached a hand out to let it flow through her fingers. Satan’s sack, but it smelled strange. “What brings you to me? An offering, I hope”. She began to suck her fingers clean, one after another, pinning me in place with her gaze.
I cleared my throat. I’d be lying if I said she wasn’t imposing, in form like a caricature of a human woman grown over large, with only her size to suggest she was anything else.
“I come as I am, lady, on behalf of my lord. Our previous envoys have been turned from your hallowed court, justly, and I am here now to redress the insult of our previous efforts; if it please you, name the cost of your pardon and let us resume negotiations as they should have been handled from the outset”. I hoped my niceties would sound sincere.
She stirred then, sliding forward and sinking lower as she did so, sending a small rippling wave across the surface of her shrine until I wondered some might spill over the side. She submerged entirely, her head disappearing below the surface of the profane pool only to reemerge moments later at the closer end. Rivulets of the hot semen ran down her face, dropping heavily to the surface as it dripped in globs off her chin and the end of her nose. The grin on her face as she came back up, wiping her long black hair back with both hands, came as a surprise; eons soaking here as she did had not diminished her cravings. She crossed her arms on the ledge and rested her chin on them, bidding me closer. The devoted throng carried on with their supplication next to her.
I rose only after the succubus next to me nodded her encouragement. I padded over, coming to a stop some six feet from her, confident I was beyond her reach. Her eyes on me made my nakedness uncomfortable. Not since Gabriel routed us in those lost ages of strife had I felt so powerless, but I’d be damned if I was gonna let her know that.
“Oh come now,” she cooed “a little closer won’t hurt”. I was powerless to do ought but comply, waving Poggle back to wait with the succubus, who seemed enamored with the little cretin, giving it a little smile. I stepped up to the very ledge, and she stood slightly taller in her cistern, obscuring everything below her nipples as she held fast to the side. A very small bite of a very large lip stopped me dead; my eyeline was level with her throat so that she looked down upon me as a cat might do to a barn mouse.
“Your lord was wise to send someone worthy of treating with me, at last. I expected someone of note to be sent, but I would not have counted on it being you”. The compliment was friendly, but decorum had to be observed, and custom dictated my response.
“I am nameless, lady, damned in eternal service to my liege. I am no more or less than my lord would have me”.
She chuckled and looked playfully upward. “Oh and I suppose you are. Another lord would *have* you in other ways though you know. Heavens, I know a few who might have you entirely to themselves”. She reached out a enormous hand and cupped my balls softly; large as they were, she still handled them delicately. I’m not given to describing myself in irrelevant terms, given the impermanence of form or truth here, but my cock was…improbable, by human standards. I felt it start to stiffen slightly, eager myself to ignore it against all odds and she began to trail one long, manicured finger up and down it. The slight scratching set my spine aflame. I found it nearly impossible to meet her gaze.
“Your lord’s request is fine, and easily accommodated. When the council of lords meets next, he will have my support in the vote on tithes. The Elders need their bells rung and this might be the only way to get them off their accursed asses. The tide of souls has become appalling, I can hardly sustain my own dominion here as it stands”. That was really saying something. My breath was near impossible to keep steady now, and I might have even allowed a drop or perspiration to dew my brow with the effort of ignoring the fact of my throbbing erection in her hand, having stroked me to attention while she talked.
“My lady is kind” I stammered. She smirked at that and jerked her head at a nearby attendant nestled in a small alcove cut into the rock of the chamber. The Thirst withdrew, gliding backward in her pool to rest against the far side again, reposed casually and looking like nothing less than inspiration for every lusting wondered, every wet dream that has ever occurred; she began lapping cum onto her chest with her hands idly, as one might rinse sand off themselves at a washbasin.
“Since your lord sent you here yourself this time,” she declared “I might as well reap something from this for myself”. The attendant she had beckoned over, a succubus like the others, dropped her robe as she approached me. My guide stepped closer from behind, embracing me with wrapping arms while her sister took up the task of stroking me upwards, cock aimed so my tip was grazing the underside of her heavy teardrop breasts. So this would be her price then. No wonder my lord had sent me.
“Every wretched, forlorn fuck in this place has helped to fill my shrine,” she continued “but ones such as yourself are all too rarely found among the faithful lined up at my door”. A ripple below the pool and the angle of her arm told me what her hand must be busy doing below, as surely as her heaving chest and increasingly vacant expression did. “An angel’s offering is too rare a treat to pass up”.
The immortal sex elementals, those masterful succubae, continued their ministrations. The one behind, entangling me in a lovers embrace, nibbled at my ear and kissed at my neck as tenderly as a honeymooning bride. Her sister, the twin to her in appearance, stared directly into my eyes, her purple irises inviting me to drown myself in the pleasure of her hands, promising me that compliance would yield pleasures unbound. The bulging head of my member began to emit a gleaming pearl of precum, which the minor goddess bobbed down swiftly to smear onto her lips, not breaking the rhythm of her expert strokes. She leaned in, past my cheek to kiss her peer softly, the wet sound of their sloppy kiss and the low moans of approval while they completed the transfer felt electric. The surrounding chamber blurred in my vision, and I knew for certain that their foul witchcraft had taken root within me, but I cared not. This was the price, after all.
The sisters dropped to their knees, with the one slithering between my legs to envelop my balls in her mouth, while the other popped the head of my cock past her pillowy black lips and began to slide the entire length of it down her slippery throat. I was far too large for this; the geometry didn’t work out. Still, she continued to swallow me down bit by bit until her nose pressed itself to my stomach; her tongue flicked out to meet the other’s, mingling as they met over the tight skin of my thoroughly slobbered balls. Without any evidence that deepthroating me had been any effort at all, she withdrew agonizingly slowly, lingering halfway to bob her head a few times before winking and unsheathing me the rest of the way. In the background, a pair of the Mistress’s guards tipped what appeared to be a three foot long shaft into the pool; Her hand reached out and the thing disappeared below the surface before more ripples began to form on the surface above her pelvis.
The stone rim of her bath was wide, and I was led to lay down on it, evidently to give Her a better view of what the twins had in mind. Again, physical limitations of space and volume apart, one of them squatted above my hips and guided my wet cock towards her waiting slit, settling down far past the point of reason in a squeezing ecstasy I’d not known in a thousand years. She patted at a visible bulge in her tummy with both hands, as a proudly expectant mother might do, and swayed her shoulders back and forth a few times in a, frankly, adorable little happy dance. My world went black as sight was stolen from me; I caught only the briefest glimpse of a red-skinned thigh swing across my face and a fat scarlet ass lowering itself onto my face with a suffocating weight. I stuck my tongue out hungrily and heard the being astride my head cackle with glee. The one with the presumably bottomless womb began to move.
I know not how long this lasted. There are no words I could write in any language that wouldn’t sear your eyeballs in their sockets to read that I might use to describe how it felt to be ridden by one such as them. Bliss, I guess. Euphoria. If humans would launch 1000 ships for one of their own to taste this from a mere human woman, I myself would march on God’s gates another hundred times to return to that place.
I had two handfuls of dense ass flesh in my hands, and could only communicate my building orgasm to the one who sat there by squeezing tightly. She gave a soft squeeze back, facing her sister as she did, on my torso to let me know she understood. I felt the stale, rancid air on my bare shaft as the one climbed off her seat. The other remained astride my ears, wiggling herself on my face as wondered began to abandon me in my approaching explosion, and all 4 of their hands began to work the load towards freedom.
Thinking they meant to simply aim me off to the side, and not feeling any tangible confidence that I’d be able to do so on my own right now, I let myself go; my back arched, my bones felt as though they were burning to ash within me, every muscle I have screamed in terror to match the rising cacophony of the onlooking herd of Her thralls. Being what I am, I don’t need to insult your imagination in describing how much cum I produced then. Imagine, though, my surprise when I was finally, gasping, allowed from under the voluptuous ass of my captor, to discover both the creatures wading slowly through the pool towards their lord, both with pursed lips and bulging cheeks. She was clearly still pleasuring herself below the surface of her vat of think, hot cum, and sat with her mouth open now, tongue out and dripping saliva, like a newborn hatchling. The sisters took it in turns, on either side of their mistress, to release the loads sequestered in their mouths into that of their insatiably thirsty liege.
I watched in disbelief as they did this, the look of relief on her face as she gulped the delivered meal down akin to that of an addict getting a fix. As the second succubus spit the last of her prize down Her throat, her own orgasm arrived almost quietly, with the practiced comfort of someone who who had come home after a long trip abroad; a shudder in her shoulder, a rippling motion in the pool, the heave of her breasts. That’s all it was. The twins settled down alongside Her, and she wrapped Her arms around them happily, kissing each on the forehead.
“You may tell your lord that all is forgiven, nameless one” she said, though her words fell on still-deafened ears. My head drooped to one side as I worked to collect my wits, Poggle dutifully trying it’s level best to drag my clothing across the floor to me. It was a good imp, really.
“Thank you my lady” I panted.
“Go now, and do return if you ever feel compelled to pay tribute to me again. I might need to see about buying you outright if you don’t”.
I dressed quickly, and the procession of devoted carried on their company at her pool’s edge. Buttoning the last of my shirt, I unceremoniously took my leave of the place to report back home.
“Done good?” Poggle asked, offering me a knucklebone he had seemingly procured from nowhere. They were his favorite snack.
“Yes, Poggle, done very good”.
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All characters are over the age of 18.
I know this one might be a little out there for some people, but it’s the begin of something I’ve been rolling around in my head for a while. I have the next two entries planned already, and will likely commit them to paper whether this flops or not because sometimes you gotta be the change you want to see in the world and I think the character might be fun to flesh out.
If you liked this or just want to do so, please come say hi. I’d love it if you did.
Be good.
NSFW: yes
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