Underworld of the Chevaan

Part V

The Dream of Death

With a roar Vhyl brought the spear down point first, stabbing the blue demoness through the midriff. At the same time he leaned back and thrust with his hips, plunging his cock deep into her.'

'AAAAiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!' Zaraeth's tortured howl was piercing, rising above the other tortured screams around the spectators. Pinned to the stone by the iron weapon she writhed like a wounded beast, black blood spurting from the wound. She heaved up, trying to wrap herself around the agony in her belly, but Fylth slammed her back down to the stone, holding her outstretched.

'Yeaaaahhhhh!!!!' Vhyl thundered, feeling Zaraeth's hot pussy clenching around his cock. He was more than halfway into her, and pushed again, burying more of himself in her cunt. He used both hands to twist the spear impaling his victim and felt her pussy spasm again as her lovely body twisted in aguish before him. Zaraeth's mouth was open side to suck in more air, then she screamed again, the sound torn from the depths of her being.

Satyra watched the woman being butchered before her and fought with all her strength to free herself. The horror of the spectacle was beyond description, the two demons laughing and gloating over the spitted victim, Vhyl raping her brutally as he used the spear to rip at her internal organs. They had turned the slaughter of this woman into a sick sexual experience for the warped pleasure. On his throne Satyra could see Vulgus watching his servant's demise with unconcealed glee, one hand stroking his thick shaft as he masturbated himself to the sight of her murder. Sadiste held the priestess fast, but had shifted the hand over her mouth to rub at her breasts, while the red demoness ground her pelvis against Satrya's back and shoulders, she also deriving sexual pleasure from the helpless Zaraeth's death agonies.

Vhyl kept pumping, both with his cock and the spear, sometimes pulling the weapon almost free of Zaraeth's lovely body before plunging it back into her, skewering her on its barbs. Her lower body was slick with dark blood now and some of it had run down in small streams around her crotch, the hot liquid tickling his rape-shaft as he moved it inside his victim. The heat of the blood fired him to new violence, fucking in and out of her at a frantic pace, driving his fill length inside her quim so hard that the blue woman was driven upward with each thrust, her breasts dancing in rhythm to his movements while the spear's points sawed through her quaking flesh, tearing the wound larger.

'AAArrrggghhhh!!! Oh darkness….aahhh….AAAHHHHHHH!!!!!! Please…..eeeeaaAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!!.......'

Zaraeth's head was thrown back over the stone as she screamed and screamed, and then screamed again. She could feel the iron spear tearing her insides to shreds, the blood spurting from her belly wound and running down over her hips and thighs and legs. Vhyl's cock tore at her as well, the thick, coarse skinned phallus tearing at her soft pussy walls already lacerated by his clawed fingers. Her body shook and heaved, adding to her misery as she tore herself against the pole arm in her abdomen and the talons piercing her feet and ankles, but she was helpless to prevent her contortions. She filled her lungs with air so that her firm tits swelled and screamed so loud it felt that her head would explode, but it did not give her release from the horrible pain.

Holding his demonic kinswoman's arms, Fylth could no longer contain himself as she watched Vhyl hump the blue bitch before them. Shifting to a one handed grip of her wrists he grabbed Zaraeth's head and twisted it violently, forcing her to look around at his own rampant male organ. He pushed it against her lips, taking his hand away from her head and getting a fistful of her tit meat that he squeezed mercilessly, the blue flesh darkening between his thick fingers. Zaraeth tried to pull her head away, keeping her mouth a tight blue line as the toad faced demon tried to get his dick between her full lips.

Seeing his companions difficulties Vhyl paused in his fucking to tear the spear out of Zaraeth's body. She arched her back as her lips flew wide, and Fylth seized his chance and pushed his cock into her open mouth, hauling on her tortured boob for leverage. Vhyl then stabbed down again, the spear tearing into the demoness just below the bottom rib. More blood gushed out and she gave a gurgling howl as she screamed around Fylth's penis now lodged deep in her mouth.

Sadiste watched her enemy being fucked without mercy by the two demons and felt her own orgasm humming inside her. She would never offer any complement to the demoness' appearance, but it had to be said that Zaraeth looked fantastically sexy as she lay impaled by the spear and the two demon cocks penetrating her mouth and tight bald cunt. The blood smearing her glistened in the firelight as she wriggled, and as she watched Fylth mauling her tender breast flesh Sadiste imagined what it would feel like to have her own talons inflicting that damage, to have her own hands wrapped around those firm blue tits and grind them between her fingers while their owner used her lovely mouth to scream into Sadiste's wet red pussy.

From his throne Vulgus also grinned with pleasure as the demoness who had sucked his cock so dutifully was tortured and violated by his male servants. His dick was again hard in his hand as she watched Zaraeth howl and gargle while Fylth raped her mouth. The warriors in his service were banned from exercising their lusts upon his she-demons, who used every chance to tease and demean their male brethren, and if there was one thing a lord of hell knew, it was that forbidden pleasures were always the sweetest. He had known such a display of grotesque violence from the two rapists would be forthcoming, and trusted it was not lost on the exquisite red-haired captive.

Kneeling on the stone floor Satyra tried to black out the sight and sound of the demoness being done to death in front of her, but every attempt was met by a vicious twist of her wounded shoulder by Sadiste that caused her to open her eyes to the vile display. The two creatures fucking her had become more and more savage in their assault, hooting and baying to each other as they continue to pummel her body as it writhed on the iron lance, the blue woman's muscles tight knots under her skin as she suffered unspeakably. Her body shone with seat and blood as it jerked to Vhyl's cock-thrusts and blood was now bubbling from her mouth and nose, coating Fylth's penis sliding in and out of her mouth and down her throat. The toad-creature alternated his grip on her tits, shifting from one to other as he pulled, twisted and ground the mounds of woman-meat in his powerful fist. Satyra wept in horror and pity as the carnal violence went on and on, the horned blue woman's suffering stretching out unbearably as she was fucked and fucked between the pair of inhuman monsters.

But though the rape continued for what seemed like ages, it eventually dawned on Satyra that the demoness tortured writhings never slackened or grew less frantic. Satyra knew a belly wound could be agonizing, could take days to kill its victim, but the sheer loss of blood shown by the victim, coupled with the repeated stabbings and violent use of the weapon inside her, should have begun to reduce the demoness to exhaustion, if not unconsciousness. Yet by her erotic twisting and muffled shrieks it was clear that Zaraeth way very much aware, as vibrant with pain as she had been when she first impaled on the spearhead. For long minutes Satyra watched the macabre vision continue, and still the blue woman thrashed her gorgeous body vigorously and continued to moan and wail as the demons pumped themselves inside her.

Finally it was not the stamina of demon-girl which gave out, but that of her defilers. Vhyl's pace quickened until the very friction of his cock was a pain to her abused womanhood, then gave a last deafening howl and thrust deep into Zaraeth's hairless quim, his body stiffening as he released his load inside her. He pulled out and thrust again, the backward motion releasing a gout of syrupy brown liquid from her cunt, held, for a moment, pulled out again.

At Zaraeth's head Fylth's let go of the demoness' tit and arms to grab her by the horns and fuck her mouth powerfully, head down on his chest as his belly spasmed to shoot a second deluge of demon cum into her mouth. His lustful bellow was drowned out by Vulgus own as the demon lord jerked at his gigantic member, spraying the area before the throne with boiling jism. Zaraeth gasped as she chocked down Fylth's evil fluid, spitting some out around the girth of green scaled cock so that it ran down over her chin and cheeks. Fylth continue to choke the bloodied woman for half a minute before he yanked his dick free and used he own fist to pump the last vestiges of semen from his shaft, spattering Zaraeth's throat and curving chest with as his emissions mixed with her blood and sweat. Vhyl also slipped his phallus from her nether lips, its shaft slick and shining with their mingled sex juices.

Grasping his spear in the victims belly with both hands Vhyl roughly yanked it free, releasing another fountain of black blood as Zaraeth screamed and tumbled from the stone. She lay there in a phoetal position, clutching her wounded belly as more blood seeped around her fingers. Satyra watched on, hoping the blue woman-creature would finally know the release of death.

'Arise, my little harlot,' Vulgus said from his throne, still working his cock gently in his fist. 'You have done well.'

To Satrya's shocked disbelief the demon woman stood up shakily, her hands wiping the congealing blood from her body. As she cleaned herself the area where the spear had pierced her became visible, the smooth skin showing no signs of any wound, or even a scar. It was as if the violent penetration had never happened.

Shaking on her feet Zaraeth made her way over to her lord, kneeling before him and nuzzling against one of the huge black haired legs. He stroked her hair and looked over at Satyra kneeling next to Sadiste.

'Now do you understand, little tramp of the forests,' came Vulgus rumbling voice. 'Death will not claim you here – your tortures will last as long as it pleases us to hear you beautiful screams, and watch the pain dance of you lovely body. The six torments you shall endure will seem endless, and in the end, I will break your spirit to my cause and you shall abase yourself before me as completely as this little cunt.' He ran a finger through Zaraeth's ebony curls.

Satyra pulled her head up to look at the hell lord squarely. 'Five,' she said in voice soft, but firm.

The collection of demons about the throne paused, and the rumble of the hell fires seemed to skip a beat. 'What did you say?' Vulgus finally asked in an ominous tone.

'Five,' repeated Satyra, looking undaunted, though in truth vision of Zaraeth's hideous ordeal was seared into her mind. 'The bargain made was for six torments, and I have already endured one at the fangs of your degenerate snakes. Only five remain.'

Vulgus leaned forward, and his shadow seemed to move out before him and chill Satyra with its touch. Even Sadiste seemed uncertain. 'You would seek to split hairs over your contract with me, little shit-whore of the Chevaan?' he growled.

'The contracts terms were simple,' Satyra replied, almost keeping the tremor from her voice. 'The rules of our bargain are clear.'

Vulgus guffawed, but his every breath spoke of deadly danger. 'You really think I care about rules?'

'Of course you don't,' answered Satyra, but with growing confidence, ' if you can get away with ignoring them through the ignorance or terror of your victims. But I am neither ignorant nor terrified – and I say you will hold to your terms, or find your contract in abeyance. You have had one chance to turn me, and failed. Five remain to you.'

Vulgus sat looking at her for a moment, eyes blazing. 'No attempt to turn you with the serpents was made,' he said finally.

'But the torment was your own devising,' Satyra shot back, sensing victory. 'It is not my fault if you squandered your chance.'

For a long time Vulgus sat looking at the naked woman before him, unclad but still defiant with her red hair a shimmering mane of fire about her face with its frame of curling horns. Sadiste stood stock still, holding her breath. All of hell seemed to be waiting.

At last Vulgus sat back, chuckling and stroking his chin. 'Oh I like the slut,' he chortled. 'A bold witch indeed, Sadiste, and a worthy one for our cause. She will be a great asset.' He paused and smiled without humor down at Satyra. 'As you say, my proud beauty, five torments remain for you. The second we shall administer here and now, in preparation of your long and eventful stay here. And furthermore,' he added, ' in recognition of your impressive courage I declare that no cock before mine shall gouge out your insolent pussy hole, and only after your pride has been stripped away. At which time,' Vulgus continued, his voice dropping to a thunderous whisper, ' I shall fuck your miserable cunt to a shapeless ruin of meat while you amuse me by skewering your own tits with burning irons.'

Satyra swallowed, but met the hell lord's gaze stoically. He leaned back into his throne and motioned to Sadiste. 'Bring in the cauldron.'

Sadiste bowed, and made a sign to the shadows. A dozen troll like beings, each less than four feet tall, appeared, carrying on their backs a huge brass bowl about eight feet across and two feet deep. Liquid sloshed inside it. From the rim, in five places, large poles three inches thick curved out for three feet and them back up towards and apex over the container. The reverse curve of the pole rose nine feet into the air, and fixed to each pole there was a woman.

Their hands and ankles were tied behind them, the brass shaft entering her body through the anus. The poles evidently continued up through their bodies, emerging from their wide open mouths near the convergence of the five rods. Satyra looked up in horror at the sight of the skewered women, made double horrific by the fact they were not dead. Each one moaned and wriggled at her impalement. The girls were all young in appearance, fair, though their beauty was marred by the pain of their ordeal. Two were fair skinned like Satyra, one with brown hair, the other honey blonde. Another girl had olive skin and curling black hair. She seemed shorter, with rounder hips and plump breasts, and her features reminded Satyra of the Roman's she had seen. The other two victims were of races unknown to her – one had skin like old ivory, with straight black hair, dark eyes, and small pert breasts with dark red nipples. The other was dark skinned, a brown that was almost black, except on the palms of her hands and soles of her feet. Her hair was a wide bush of kinky dark curls, and her large heavy breasts had black nubbins. She was the tallest of the five and had big lips that wrapped around the pole coming from her mouth, and an exotically lovely face with a broad nose.

The troll creatures set the bowl down and withdrew. Vhyl and Fylth came over and grabbed Satyra under the armpits, carrying her over to the bowl. Sadiste joined them. Inside the contents seemed like dark red wine, but the metallic odor coming from the liquid left no illusions about its true nature.

'Put her in,' Sadiste said without preamble, and the demons hoisted the shackled Chevaan into the bowl and set her down in the blood. Satyra struggled instinctively but was unable to prevent them attaching her legs to two clamps hidden on the inside of the bowl, the metal restraints circling her legs just below her knees and forcing her to kneel with her legs spread. Moving forward she would only pitch face first into the blood with her hands still bound behind her. Backwards she could sit in a kneeling pose, but she had not desire to let more of her body rest in the coagulating fluid than she had to.

Sadiste ran her hands over the surface of the blood where a thin scum was forming. 'This won't do at all,' she tsked. 'You two,' she said, calling to the demon warriors. 'Freshen the infusion.'

The demons laughed, reaching up with their spears. Satyra lifted her head to watch. Vhyl pressed his spear against the left breast of the blonde prisoner, then pushed, piercing the flesh. The girl howled and jerked and blood gushed down the spear to add to the contents of the bowl.

Satyra pulled back to avoid the red shower and almost overbalanced. As she did Fylth readhead over her shoulder with his spear and stabbed the dark skinned woman in the belly, making her scream and shudder as Zaraeth had done as her blood ran free.

Round and round the bowl the own demons continued, using their spears on the women's bellies, their breasts, their throats, and their pussies. The blood gushed freely from each, but like Zaraeth the helpless women showed no signs passing out or expiring. After a time their wounds bleeding would slow, and the demons would repeat the process to keep the blood flowing. There were particularly vicious with their stabs at the tits and genital of the victims, and laughed at the anguished cries that always followed.

As the demons stabbed, Sadiste began to chant in a low sing song voice, her body moving rhythmically, like a serpent's. She passed her hands over the blood, moving around, her eyes alternating between the sobbing prisoners and the ram horned captive. Satyra shook her head and leaned this way and that, trying to avoid the red liquid spattering her. It hand risen now up to her thighs only a foot below her exposed sexual organs.

Finally Sadiste paused and reached down beside her. When she stood up she held a flaming coal in her red palm.

'By all darkness,' she intoned, 'let the fire of hell enter the flesh of the living. Let her body be infused with its eternal flame, that she may endure without respite, and her pain be never ending.' She smiled evilly at Satyra. 'NOW!'

With her last cry Sadiste tossed the coal into the blood. Instantly the liquid roared to flaming like, as if it were oil from the earth. The flames shot up, engulfing Satrya's naked body in their scorching embrace.

Now…

'YeeeeeeaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRHHHHHHHH!!!!!'

Satyra howled and writhed in the pool of blood for what had seemed centuries. Her mind registered nothing but the hot pain blazing in her legs, her arms, and her body. When the magical flames wrapped around her breasts those large soft orbs felt like they were full of burning coals, swelling until they must surely explode outwards to release the trapped heat When the fires shot up between her legs the meat of her womanhood became a sizzling inferno that left in such anguish that she could not even scream. Only hold herself rigid, her head back and mouth wide in a silent paroxysm of anguish.

The fires lit her hair and wreathe her head in leaping flames. She lived on, and the hair reappeared. It turned her skin to red and then to black charred flakes that peeled away from her body. New skin grew back, ad still she lived. Her fingers bound behind her withered like sticks in a fire, her pussy lips hissed like frying strips of bacon, and the round crests of her breast cracked and bled down over her slender body. But she didn't die.

Over and over as she suffered she heard the soft Voice of Sadiste in her ears, urging her to surrender. Sometimes it offered pleasure without limits. Sometimes it promised the pain would never end. Always her refusal to accept its terms assured her suffering continued. Satyra wept and struggled and screamed and cursed and prayed, but the only words that would end her torture caught in her throat. And the horror went on.

She did not have nay awareness of time, but eventually she as if from a great distance a voice nearby. 'It is done,' it said, a woman's musical tones. 'Finish it.'

Satyra opened her eyes and say her body burning and blistering, the flames tearing at her without consuming her. She made another effort to rip her legs free of the shackles beneath the scalding liquid, pulling and tearing, then felt two points gouging her seared back. She pitched forward, mouth side in a scream as she fell beneath the surface.

Instantly her pain increased by an order of magnitude, the boiling liquid entering her mouth and lungs and searing her form the inside out, her eyes reduced to melting lumps of goo. Her brain shrivelled inside her skull then exploded like a birthing sun.

Then it was over, and she was upright again. The fires had vanished. Her body from the top of her head down was stained with the thick red slurry, and she shook it out of her eyes.

Rough hands reached in and removed her shackles and she was hauled out of the bow and dumped on the ground. She coughed and wheezed, looking up at Sadiste standing brazenly over her, and the more massive shadow of Vulgus behind her on his throne.

With a wrench the two spears tore loose from her shoulders, and she fell forward with a cry. Sadiste straddled the priestess and wiped away some of the bloody residue wear the points had pierced her. No wounds were left behind, and the skin, once bronze, now showed as an alabaster white beneath the clinging scum.

'Excellent,' rumbled Vulgus, as he pushed Zaraeth's head down over his dripping cock. 'Now we can truly begin.'

Satyra lay before the lord of hell, sucking in air, dreaming of the death that now would never come.