Blissful Torment

The smell gave it away. Elaine instinctively knew something was wrong, very wrong, before her mind returned from sleep. It smelled of fire, and there was a whiff of rotten eggs in the air. Sulfur. Why on earth would it smell like a burning spa in her apartment? Was her house on fire?

She opened her eyes. This was not her home. Where her TV was supposed to be, a slowly moving river of molten rock pushed its way through a gigantic cavern made from red and black stone. Elaine looked down herself, noticing that she was completely naked, and bound with chains from wrists and ankles to a wooden post.

It dawned on her that she might have died.

"Fuck me. Is this hell?" she mumbled to herself.

"Of course, and of course," a deep voice replied from behind her.

She jumped, or would have, if not for the chains tethering her down. She uncomfortably wrenched her head to the side, trying to see who (or what) was talking.

It stepped into view. A mammoth of a man—no—demon. He towered above her, some 8 or 9 feet tall. Humanoid, with dark red skin covering mountains of muscles. Horns on his head, furred legs ending in cleft hooves. His nose and nipples were pierced with thick golden rings. Folded leathery wings sprouted from his back. His hands were the size of baseball mittens, and his biceps thicker than her whole body.

The thought that he could probably snap her in half like a dry twig crossed her mind. Her eyes wandered over the brute in front of her, enjoying what she saw, despite her raising fear over what was happening. She had always had a thing for big and strong men, and while the monster in front of her wasn't technically a "man", he definitely was attractive. It also very definitely was male, judging from the cock and balls dangling between his legs. Hell did not seem to care much about clothes.

"Wait, what?" she said, brain finally catching up, "this is actually hell?"

He nodded, smirked, and spread his arms wide, "Yes, this is hell. Welcome, Elaine, to an eternity of torture and suffering. I'm your host Steve, and if you have any questions or complaints, just scream very loudly."

"Your name is Steve?" She could swear someone chuckled behind her, out of sight.

She could nearly hear his muscles clench in anger, poised to strike, his burning eyes staring her down, making her feel even tinier, "Yes. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Nonononoit'saperfectlygoodname." She tried to give him her most charming smile. Quickly, she changed the topic, "So, why am I here, and what's going to happen?"

He rolled his eyes. "You, Elaine Stefanie Garcia, are asking me for the reason why you, of all people, would be here?" He sounded quite exasperated.

Embarrassed, she looked to the side, "Is it because of all the debauchery?"

He sighed and with condescension dripping from his voice, explained, "Yes, Elaine, of course it is because of the debauchery. The two hundred and seventeen people you slept with. The one-hundred-sixty-five different faces you've sat on, the forty-eight asses you ate, the near innumerable loads of cum you swallowed, and/or (eww) snowballed. The six times you had to visit an ER because you and your partners (usually plural) went at it too wildly. The fact that your sex toy collection is worth as much as a sedan. If orgasms actually killed kittens (sadly not the case), you'd have eliminated all species of cats smaller than leopards. Also John is still mad that you broke his dick once."

"I'm still sorry about that too! It happened in the heat of the moment! But it was all consensual! "

"That doesn't count for shit, really. The clitoris not called the Devil's Doorbell for no reason! You should have paid better attention in church." He paused for dramatic effect, "If you had ever bothered to visit, that is."

"Uhhh, I'm sorry? I was … busy?" Again, she was near certain someone snorted at her comment. Were there people hiding behind her?

"Busy getting spit roasted, probably."

She could not meet his eyes any more. Despite having always been comfortable with her hedonistic lifestyle, being chided for it so bluntly was embarrassing. 

"So how did I die?" she asked.

"You died as you lived."

She bit her lip in concentration. What was her last memory?

"Oh. Fuck."

"Yes. You accidentally asphyxiated while getting yourself off with a belt around your throat. One of the dumbest ways to go. You're not just a degenerate slut, you're also a half-witted bimbo."

Other people might have felt insulted, but Elaine had always enjoyed the thought of herself as a dumb slut. Luckily in all this red glow her crimson cheeks would not be obvious, and only she felt the throbbing of her insides every time he said something mean.

"Oh I see, just the thought of your depraved history turns you on, doesn't it."

She did not correct him about what exactly made her aroused right now. No way would she admit it was mostly the humiliation.

"Time for your first round of punishment then," he calmly stated.

Panic set into her voice, "What? Spikes? Whips? Boiled alive?"

Steve only shook his head. "You little dummy," -throb- "the punishment must fit the crime. You're going to get fucked like the cheap whore you are." Throb

He effortlessly ripped the heavy chains from the post, put one hand around her waist, lifted her up, turned her around, and pulled her whole body to his chest. His musky sweat was intoxicating. Finally able to see behind the post where she had been tied, her jaw nearly hit the floor. It was a massive amphitheatre hewn from rock, and there were dozens, if not hundreds, of demons of all genders and sizes watching her. Many of them were touching themselves or fucking each other, but every single one was watching.

"These are the demons who work here, torturing stupid humans like you." -Throb- "Your daily job will be to satisfy every single one of them, however they want."

She could feel her breath quicken, and her pussy drip. The idea of fucking all of these hunks, and these gorgeous voluptuous women…

Her train of thought was interrupted as she felt herself get lowered, and her cunt bump against a solid object. His cock. It was truly massive. Without a care for her welfare, he shoved her onto it, piercing into her, making her whine as she was stretched. He used her like a human-sized cock-sleeve, just sliding  her up and down on his shaft like a toy. It took only seconds and the pain had turned to pleasure. 

She enjoyed rough sex. She liked the torturous feeling of a fat cock filling her, and she loved being abused like this. Within minutes, she was nearing climax, only enhanced by the knowledge that hundreds of eyes were watching her, judging her for being a complete slut.

Just as she was about to cum, he pulled her off his dick, lifted her up, and slapped her ass. Pain shot up her spine, making her cry out. The audience jeered at her, shouting insults and degradations.

"You thought you'd get orgasms? Fuck no." He grunted into her ear, and impaled her again on his cock.

Soon, she was a moaning mess, overloaded with bliss and agony, unable to get release, being slapped and pinched and fucked. After a very long time, she was unceremoniously dropped to the ground, and the demon covered her in sticky and smelly cum.

Elaine was already exhausted, trying to catch her breath, wiping the demonic semen out of her eyes and hair with her trembling fingers. She had never ached so badly.

"Please stop," she cried as the second demon, a gargoyle with not one, but two cocks climbed on the stage. He gave her a disgusted smirk -throb- as he put her on her knees and placed both his cocks against her holes. 

The pain of a fat cock pushing into her ass without much lubrication was just about bearable, and the only thing preventing her from having an orgasm. It felt just too amazing to be filled more than she would have thought possible.

His claw locked around her throat and started squeezing, making it difficult to breathe, starving her brain of oxygen. Everything but the feeling between her legs became secondary, as she teetered at the border of life and death. She closed her eyes, and hoped nobody would see her smile. This was all she'd ever wanted. She just had to make sure to keep pretending to hate it.

***

"So, how's Elaine doing?" God asked, placing a black stone on the Go board.

"Great! It's been six weeks, and so far she has managed to mostly keep it a secret that she's having the time of her afterlife. Pretend-hell where it's all kinky sex all the time is exactly what she wants," Steve answered, contemplating the dire  situation on the board. God of course never lost, so Steve wasn't winning. But he was also losing by more than usual.

Steve added, "Sometimes she slips and moans or screams about how good it feels, but we just insult her a bit for what a dirty slut she is, which gets her going so hard you wouldn't believe — figuratively speaking, of course."

God chuckled, "How long do you estimate until she catches onto us? That this can't be real hell if it's this much fun?"

"Hard to say, really. I think the fact that all her bruises magically heal and all injuries disappear overnight is a bit of a giveaway, but she does like it very rough, so we can't just turn that off either," Steve replied, "but I reckon a couple dozen if not a hundred years for sure. She really isn't the brightest tool in the shed. Probably until then she's had her fill."

God shook her head, her blonde locks making graceful waves in the air, "Intelligence was never her strongest suit. But she is true to herself, and her most immoral act was downloading a Metallica album off Napster. She has more than deserved a spot in Heaven. The old geezer would have disapproved, but it was time for his Bronze Age views to retire."

"Amen to that."

2020-08-08 Blissful Torment