Underworld of the Chevaan

Part IV

Formal Reception

Satyra writhed in agony as the flames lapped over her naked body, running in searing sheets over the exposed flesh of her legs and buttocks, up over her midriff, around the puckered cleft of her womanhood, over the full swell of her breasts that expanded mightily as she sucked in air to give another animal scream of pain.

Positioned thigh deep in the burning liquid of the great golden bowl the priestess stood with her arms pinioned behind her, her legs spaced generously by the shackled about her feet that were anchored to the base of the cauldron. The fiery liquid within bubbled and hissed as flames ran over its molten surface, questing around her legs and then sorcerously climbing like serpents of fire, causing patches of her smooth sun bronzed skin to burst into flames like the flesh of some beast being roasted on a spit above the cooking fire.

Satyra struggled with all the strength of her half-satyr heritage, strength that would have shamed many a mortal warrior, but her shackles held her firm. Escape was impossible; all she could do was somehow hope to endure the awful pain.

The flames died for a moment and she cast her tear-glazed eyes down over her body. Between her legs she could see the vile contents of the bowl simmering less than a foot from her exposed labia. The pain from her legs where they were fully immersed in the molten broth was such that it seemed the flesh must be dissolving off her bones, peeling away in great chunks and joining the noxious contents. It was not of course; that was the whole point of this sadistic initiation to the Underworld.

Behind her Satyra sensed the looming presence of her would-be master, eyes devouring the torment of her tender body. She trembled and struggled anew, feeling a new surge in the activity of the boiling mass she was confined in. Large bubbles rose to the surface and burst volcanically, showering her with liquid fire. Some landed on her cheek, some amid her flaming red hair near the rams-horns of her forest–spirit heritage. A huge glob of the stuff spattered against the top of her right breast, sitting on the curving flesh and burning, filling the fleshy orb with new torment as Satyra screamed in pain and in horror and in prayer to the goddess that this torture would end.

It didn't.

Some time earlier…

The red haired priestess woke in another cavern, larger than the one with the serpents and darker. Consciousness came painfully, and she groaned as she opened her eyes. Every part of her body felt as if it had been pummeled and wrenched. She lay on her back and breathed in long slow breaths that did not cause too much pain to her tortured ribs.

After a time Satyra rose, clambering slowly and carefully to a sitting position. Her naked body bore the bruises and bites of her encounter with the serpents, the former dark purple mixed with patches of yellow, the latter angry red wounds crusted with dried blood. Her breasts were swollen beyond even their normal impressive size, and felt heavy and sore; their curved surface a patchwork of dark splotches where the coils had brutally squeezed the tender flesh. The space between her long legs was a constant throbbing ache where the wicked coils had ground the soft mound of her pubis against the pelvic bone beneath.

Sitting with her head on her knees and fighting exhaustion and nausea, Satyra closed her eyes and summoned her strength. Her tumbling mane of red hair hid her face, but every aspect of her posture spoke of a woman who had been tested to the limits of her physical endurance.

And she had barely even arrived.

With a groan the Chevaan moved to get to her feet. She put out one arm to steady herself against the wall, and no sooner had put weight on the limb than she screamed and fell back to the floor, clutching at her still dislocated shoulder. She struck the twisted joint again as she fell and was straight away blind with pain. She rolled slowly to her other side, face twisted in anguish, the nausea overcoming her as she dry-retched on the stone floor.

When her gagging coughs had subsided she rolled back onto her back and lay with her eyes closed again. Her whole body assaulted her with its messages of pain.

Noises of someone approaching brought her back to awareness. She opened her emerald eyes and stared over at the wall as part of it swung back and away, admitting two new arrivals' to her prisons.

The creatures were vaguely humanoid, walking upright on two think legs, but they had long feet with curving claws, and padded forward on their toes, so that their heels never touched the ground. Their legs, like their whole body, were covered in leathery skin that glistened wetly in the red light of the cavern. They leaned forward from the hips, their weight balanced by long reptilian tails that stood out behind them, hovering above the floor and moving back and forth as they shifted from one foot to the other as they walked. Above the waist they were man-like, with powerful torsos and chests to which were attached at their broad shoulders arms rippling with muscles like knots of cables beneath the dark flesh. Their faces were bestial to look upon, one with narrow features and evil slanting eyes, the other like a type of human toad, with sagging cheeks and a wide flat nose. Their ears were wickedly pointed, and each had a set of short dirty ivory horns protruding from their foreheads. They had neither hair nor clothes, and between their legs swung their prodigious male organs, six inches long as they hung flaccid, bobbing gently as the creatures moved forward.

Demons.

Satyra watched the pair pad across the floor, the talons on their feet clicking against the stone. As they came to stand over her she pulled herself painfully back against the wall, staring up at them as they leered at her nude form. Each carried a crude spear in one hand that seemed to be made from a single piece of some dark mettle, heavily corroded and barbed at one end, and these weapons moved ominously in her direction as she lay before them.

'Hello meat,' said the narrow faced creature. His voice was thin and rasping. He smiled, showing a mouth full of teeth like small scimitars. 'Ready for some more fun?'

Satyra said nothing but tried to meet the demon's leering gaze as defiantly as she could. The demons chuckled and looked over at his toad faced companion. 'She's supposed to be a real choice morsel, this one.' He looked back at Satyra and used his free hand to stroke his male organ, teasing it to semi-hardness. 'I've waited a long time to dig out some mortal pussy with this shovel,' he went on, indicating his stiffening phallus; he gave a laugh like the sound of breaking glass and kept his eyes fixed meaningfully on the space below Satyra's belly as she kept her legs held tightly together.

'And you'll wait longer yet, Vhyl' came a feminine voice in reply. The demons turned as Sadiste entered the chamber. Despite herself Satyra felt a surge of relief at the she-devil's words. The demon called Vhyl had coached his organ to a prodigious size, at least nine inches long and of significant girth, and the ram-horned Chevaan had no illusions about the abuse that jutting member would inflict on her womanhood.

'Sadiste,' snarled the thin demon, turning to face her. He made the name sound like a curse. 'Still strutting about thinking you can command your betters? When will you realize your place, little whore – on your back with you legs around your ears?' The toad demon guffawed in support of his companion.

Sadiste never lost her smile, but stepped forward there was less than a foot separating her from Vhyl. One of the red skinned woman's hands curled around the back of the tall male devil's neck, while the other reached out and stroked the length of his still hard shaft. 'Poor Vhyl,' she cooed, running her fingers along the length of his cock so that it quivered with excitement as its owner growled low and deep. 'Such a big hard dick, and no chance of a fuck.' She giggled coquettishly. 'No wonder you're so surly.'

Vhyl stared down at the gorgeous she devil and moved his spear so that it prodded her gently between her firm bare breasts. 'One day, my pretty slut, I'll use this cock to rape your arrogant cunt until it bleeds,' he whispered with a smile.

'I look forward to it,' replied Sadiste with a like grin, then stepped past him with a last taunting flick of her fingers against his rampant penis.

Sadiste moved to stand in front of the exhausted Chevaan priestess, between Satyra and the demons. 'Well, my dear,' the red-skinned she devil said softly. She leaned over to inspect Satyra's injuries, framing her breasts between her arms while she teased the creatures behind her by thrusting her peach-shaped ass towards them. 'You've been keeping busy, I see.'

Satyra said nothing but glared up at the demoness.

'No welcome for your hostess,' said Sadiste in mock disappointment. 'Never mind. You'll find that we at least know how to provide a proper welcome.' She stood and turned quickly, holding out her hand. There was a small flash of flame and a set of crude iron manacles appeared in her hand. Sadiste tossed them to the toad faced demon. 'Put these on her, and bring her with us.'

The toad face creature scowled and his tail whipped from side to side. 'Why Fylth do what you say,' he growled.

Sadiste smiled even more beautifully and stepped over to stand in front of the squat demon warrior. 'Because,' she said in a voice like honey,' I'm asking so nicely.' She took a long slow breath and Fylth watched her breasts rise and fall hypnotically.

Suddenly while the demon stood entranced by her gorgeous tits Sadiste's hand flashed out, seizing his balls in her taloned grip. Fylth grunted and his eyes went wide. 'And,' hissed Sadiste, 'because if you don't our master will gouge out your putrefying testicles with a spoon and let me wear them as earrings.' She gave Fylth's balls a final brutal twist and then released him so that her stumbled back, grasping his bleeding scrotum.

Vhyl chuckled as Sadiste stepped out of the chamber. Slowly Fylth rose and staggered over to the prostrate Satyra. She tried to move, but in her weakened state she was no match for the demons speed and strength, even with him still using one hand to clutch his wounded genitals. He flipped her onto her belly and yanked her arms behind her, pulling her elbows together and making her cry out in pain. One of his feet held her down against the rough stone floor while they manacled her arms, then hauled her roughly to her feet. Satyra screamed again as her weight was lifted by her dislocated shoulder, and this time both demons laughed out loud.

Following Sadiste the demonic pair led the wincing Satyra out of the cave and into a winding tunnel. Heat and a sulphurous stench assailed the prisoner, and the air throbbed in her ears. A dull, unending rumble permeated the underground labyrinth through which the red-head Chevaan was led, a sound so powerful that it was not heard so much as felt. If Satyra had possessed knowledge of the great smithying houses in which the arms and armor of Rome were turned out she would have thought is similar to that, but magnified beyond any mortal effort.

As she was dragged stumbling by her shackled hands through the orange lit tunnel Satyra watched the hips of Sadiste swaying insolently in front of her and remembered the demoness' promise that she would join the ranks of the Underworld willingly. Already her body was a cacophony of tormented bone, muscle and sinew, and her time in this pit of despair had barely begun. Satyra knew her stamina exceeded that of any of her sisters, but now for the first time she prayed that her more than human abilities would be insufficient for the trials ahead. Not because she wished to surrender to the hellion strutting along ahead of her, but because she hoped that if all else failed, death would claim her before she succumbed to the torments of the damned.

As she staggered forward she felt a clawed hand on her backside propelling her forward, but also closing about the firm round muscle of hr ass cheek. Glancing up she saw the stout creature Fylth leering down at her and licking his lips as his hand squeezed her ass painfully. His gaze strayed up to her full breasts bouncing provocatively as she was hauled along and a thick line of drool dripped from the corner of his wide mouth. Satyra made a face of disgust and looked forward again.

Sadiste turned a corner and abruptly stepped out into an open space. A heartbeat later Satyra followed flanked by her escort and then stopped, her eyes and mouth wide at the sight before her.

The cavern she was in was immense, its existence a mockery of physical engineering principles that limited the scope of human construction. The walls roe up to an unguessable height, merging at some point with the stone roof but so far distant from the chambers floor that Satyra's eyes could make no gauge of the actual distance. Vertigo assailed her as she stared upwards, and she forced her eyes lower to fight off the sick dizziness. About her the stone base of the space stretched out, it's further limits masked by shadows. The dark patches danced in the flickering red light of hundreds of fires rising from the broken ground, some no bigger than candle flames, others emanating from fissures or craters a dozen feet across. In the illumination of those flames the cave was bathed in shifting hues of yellow, orange, or blood red.

But it was not the sights that were most disturbing; it was the sounds. From al around Sadiste came the pitiful, tortured screams of people in unspeakable pain. The echo of their wailing cries rose and fell like the tune of some demented orchestra but it never ceased. In the nearer walls Satyra could make out alcoves masked by more shadows, within which could just be made out the shifting shapes of men and women and other beings twisted and bestial who gibbered and laughed as the humans in their midst howled like animals and twisted themselves into shapes the human body had never evolved to mimic.

Satyra stood dumbstruck taking in the spectacle of suffering about her. Sadiste turned and observed the mute horror on her prisoners face, and smiled sadistically. 'Come my dear,' she purred, 'I can see you are eager to begin your initiation.'

A rough yank by Vhyl on her dislocated shoulder brought Satyra back to her surroundings with a shriek of her own, and the trio of Underworlders led her forward across the chamber. Not far away stood a huge pillar bracing an overhang from the cavern wall, its base concealed by more shadowy gloom.

The demons marched Satyra t within twenty feet of the pillar and halted, Sadiste in front, the others just behind the Chevaan to either side. The pillar was about forty feet across at the base, and the darkness seemed to cling to it like a poisonous growth. Vhyl and Fylth pushed Satyra to her knees before a small flaming pool in the floor. The priestess could sense a presence in the murk in front of her, and found herself trembling slightly. She cursed herself for her fear, but could not control the quivering in her limbs.

'Milord Vulgus,' intoned Sadiste, bowing reverently before the shadows, 'an offering I bring thee, from the lands of flesh.' Sadiste reached back and cupped Satrya's lovely, besmirched face in her clawed hand. 'Wilt thou not welcome her?'

Satyra struggled to pull herself free of Sadiste's grip, but froze as in the blackness two red points of light blazed suddenly to life, their light playing over her. A laugh like fall of great stones made the fires about the priestess flutter.

'Well done, my whore,' came the reply from the shadows, the voice deep and thick with malevolence. 'Let her see us in our glory and learn the true meaning of fear.'

Without warning the fires on all sides blazed up, stinging Satyra's naked skin with the heat. She winced as the glare of the fires ripped away the concealing darkness like torn black cloth, revealing the being within as for the second time Satyra stared transfixed with amazement and horror.

The creature Vulgus sat on a throne that appeared to have been carved from an outthrust spur of the great stone pillar. His arms and torso were like that of a man, but more powerfully built than any man Satyra had ever seen; every ridge and nuance of his rippling musculature seemed to be visibly beneath skin as red as the demoness Sadiste's. Set between the thick shoulders his head and facial features were roughly humanoid, but bestial, with a broad face with high cheekbones, a short wide nose, and thick dark brows beneath a broad forehead. From that forehead sprang two thick black horns that curled back about the side of Vulgus' head and then flared out like those of a wild bull, while his hair was a shaggy mane that fell to either side of his face and down his huge back. His eyes, which bored into Satyra's own, were a like two fiery coals, and his grinning mouth was filled with razor teeth that showed as his studied the girl kneeling before him. Looking up Satyra struggled to come to terms not just with Vulgus' overwhelming physicality, but his sheer size. Even sitting thus he rose in height to almost twice that of a man.

Below the waist, any resemblance to humanity in the lord of Hell ceased. His legs were like those of a goat, ironically not unlike Satrya's own wood-spirit father, covered in thick curling black hair that glistened in the light of the many fires. His feet that rested widespread on the floor were two cloven hooves that shone wetly like dark iron. Another demoness with curling hair and blue skin stood between those splayed limbs, her head level with the demon lord's navel, diligently attending Vulgus' most eye-catching feature.

Nestled in the mat of dark hair that covered him from the waist, the demon's giant male organ was huge, oversized even in his already giant form. The girth of the phallus was that of a man's leg. The blue demoness, as she used her tongue to lave at its red skin, used both her hands to support its semi-erect weight, and still her fingers wrapped around its girth failed to meet. The enormous penis oozed thick, noisome fluid from its tip that the she-demon lovingly lapped up, licking the residue from her lips and chin as her hands moved up and down the four foot shaft. Satyra could only stare hypnotized by the cock being tended in front of her, struck dumb by its power. In her mind she tried to imagine what that organ would look like fully engorged, and reeled in horror at the awful damage it would do as it tried to penetrate her to small form, shattering her pelvis, tearing her apart with its massiveness.

'Greetings, little witch of the Chevaan,' rumbled Vulgus in his volcanic tones. The blue demoness continued her work on his cock which stiffened a little as he looked over the bruises and bites on her naked body. 'I trust you are enjoying our humble abode.'

The monster's mocking tone as he enjoyed the evidence of her defilement sparked a flare of anger in Satyra, and she wrenched herself free of Sadiste and straightened her back, meeting the hell-lord's stare brazenly. The blue demoness looked up at her as she sucked at the head of Vulgus' cock and smiled at the Chevaan.

Vulgus himself stared back into the priestess' green eyes for a dozen heartbeats, then chuckled evilly. 'Oh, I like the slut,' he said to Sadiste, who nodded her head deferentially. 'She will be a fine addition to our ranks, all spirit and big tits and nice tight pussy. You should come up with something special to tame this one.'

'I will die before I swear service to scum such as you,' Satyra said boldly, and her heart trembled in her chest as she thought of the consequences of angering this huge creature. But the consequences of allowing herself to be turned were even more terrifying, and given the choice, between falling prey to Vulgus' depredations and goading him dealing her a swift and violent death…

Vulgus, however, showed no inclination to be baited by her defiance. Instead her threw back his maned head and laughed so that the rocks about the demons and Satyra shook and rattled.

'No, little witch-whore,' Vulgus said as he brought his eyes back down to rest on the prisoner. 'Death will not find you in this realm, and you have no hope of that sweet release. Our sport here would be poor indeed of our guests died during our ministrations. Your suffering will be without surcease, until you pledge service to me.'

'If Sadiste can do what she says,' chimed I the blue demoness, glancing up lovingly at her master from her licking of his shaft. 'Another session like that with the serpents and her firm body will be good for little besides food for milord's hounds.'

Sadiste watched Vulgus glance down at Zaraeth and pat her head roughly as she sucked him, and narrowed her eyes. The insolent look in the blue skank's gaze had told Sadiste all she needed to know about the unexpected savagery of the serpents during Satyra's testing. You little cunt, she thought, though she was also somewhat impressed that a cock-slave like Zaraeth could come up with something so subtle. She tossed back her black hair and sized Satyra by her red tresses, staring down in her angry green eyes. 'Perhaps we should demonstrate to our new sister the nature of her imprisonment.'

Vulgus stroked his chin and continued patting Zaraeth's curly head. He smiled wickedly at Sadiste. 'And would you be willing to undertake such a chore, dear Sadiste,' he asked in a low voice. Nearby Sadiste sensed the two demon warriors tense suddenly as they sniffed the chance for sport with the demoness who had recently humiliated them. She could imagine their eagerness to repay her and railed inwardly at the thought of their leering visages as they had their way with her, while Zaraeth stood by gloating no less, but she only said, 'I exist only for my lord's will.'

'Yes, you do,' Vulgus replied, and Vhyl and Fylth shifted in anticipation. One of Vulgus fingers traced the outline of Zaraeth's horns as he sat considering. 'A demon -stration then,' he chuckled. Zaraeth looked over at Sadiste and grinned in triumph.

Abruptly Vulgus seized one of Zaraeth's horns and hurled her to the stone floor. The blue demoness fell heavily and cried out, her head whipping around to stare in horror at her master, who now fondled himself with his other hand. 'Milord,' gasped the naked blue woman, her yellow eyes wide with fear, 'I live only to serve you.'

'Of course you do,' said Vulgus, smiling as she leaned forward to stare down at her. 'And you shall.' He straightened, and looked at Vhyl and Fylth watching the prone demon-woman. 'Boys,' he said with a smile, 'in dul ge yourselves.'

The two devils looked at each other, and Sadiste saw Vhyl flick his yellow eyes over towards her. Clearly Zaraeth wasn't the only one wishing that she was not the one to be used as an example. But after barely a second both he and Fylth sprang forward and seized the woman lying on the stones and dragged her up as she screamed in terror and Vulgus laughed long and heartily.

Satyra watched as the demons dragged their blue skinned kinswoman over to a low flat stone. Fylth stood near her head and grabbed both her arms above the wrist with one hand, dragging them up past her head. Her buttocks rested on the rock and her legs hung free, kicking wildly as she screamed, but Vhyl moved forward quickly and set his spear tip against her belly. Zaraeth looked up with a mixture of fear and anger and tried to kick him in the crotch, but he twisted out of the way, using one hand to grasp her ankle and force her leg down. In one swift motion his taloned foot came up and slammed down, the claws of his toes gouging into to top of her foot and pinning it to the ground beneath his weight. Dark blood spurted from the pierced flesh and Zaraeth screamed in pain.

While his victim was temporarily stunned Vhyl dropped his spear on the ground next to him and moved to grab the demoness' other leg. He repeated the process, laughing at Zaraeth's fresh scream as his other foot pinned hers with its wicked talons.

Vhyl leaned over Zaraeth and used the god chain about her throat to pull her head up. 'Please milord,' the demoness sobbed, twisting to look at her master. Her breasts with their purple nipples rose and fell rapidly as Vhyl inspected her nakedness spread before him. 'Have mercy on you servant.'

Vulgus paused, considering her request. 'No,' he smiled finally, then nodded to Vhyl.

Reaching down with a clawed hand the demon stabbed a finger brutally into Zaraeth's hairless vagina, digging his claws into her flesh as he worked his way inwards. Zaraeth gave a muffled shriek as she flung her head to one side, tears seeping from beneath her long lashes.

Vhyl moved his hand around, stretching her pussy walls painfully, probing with his claws. The fingers still outside the woman's body squeezed and pinched the blue flesh of her thighs. When he had pulled and twisted at her folds for a few minutes he shifted his grip and pushed a second finger in next to the first, widening the entry to her sex. Zaraeth moaned and arched her back as she felt her cavity violated. A little blood seeped from the entrance to her pussy in evidence of the lacerations Vhyl's claws were doing inside of her.

The demon moved again, shoving a third finger into the blue she-devil, stretching the woman flesh agonizingly. She was weeping freely now, alternately crying out and pleading for mercy. Fylth dropped his spear and reached down to paw one of her round breasts as she was racked by quivering sobs.

Shifting his weight again Vhyl moved to push his hand deeper into the victim's bald twat. He pulled his arm back a little, extracting his fingers to the first joint below the tip, then rammed his arm forward again. Zaraeth cried out and thrashed on the stone. He did it again, and again, each time more forcefully. The blue woman's gorgeous body heaved and shook as his claws raped her, battering her and cutting her at the same time. More blood leaked from the bottom of her quim hole, spurring the red male demon to more violent efforts, this fanged mouth wide in smile as she watched her squirm in pain and scream as his penetrated her inmost womanhood. Zaraeth's sobs and groans grew louder and more frantic as he continued, and she shook her head from side to side so that her mane of curling midnight hair whipped across her face. She tired to gain leverage with her legs to pull herself away form his scaled fingers, but only succeeded in tearing her feet against the male demon's claws and adding to her own suffering.

Finally Vhyl slid his fingers out of the demon woman's abused vagina, lifting them to his lips and licking the blood and pussy juice from them and moving his pelvis until his now fully erect cock was nudging her splayed thighs. Zaraeth lay with her eyes closed as Fylth pinched and twisted one of her firm round nipples. She moaned again.

Vhyl leaned far over her, the movement bringing the head of his cock up to rub against her belly between her navel and the top of her opening. He used the hand still slick with some of her blood and vagainal fluid to stroke her soft cheek, so that she opened her yellow eyes and stared fearfully up at him. 'I want to hear you beg, bitch,' he hissed at her.

Zaraeth paused, struggling a little in Fylth's grip. Vhyl moved his hand down again and brutally thrust his claws into her crotch. She screamed and reared back as the bony points stabbed into her meat of her sex. Vhyl wrenched his claws out of her, and she collapsed back to the stone, sucking in air and weeping. Again he used his hand to stroke her cheek, the fresh blood leaving a dark smear against her opaline skin.

'Beg for my shaft, slut,' Vhyl growled dangerously.

'Please,' Zaraeth moaned through her tears, 'oh please.'

'Yes,' Vhyl said again, flexing his fingers before her. He smiled like a loving parent. 'Go on.'

'Please…can I…have your sh…shaft,' she sobbed. Her full breasts trembled a little as she wept.

Vhyl smiled wider and looked up at Fylth, who chuckled. 'Where do you want my hard shaft, whore?' He curled his toes and his claws bit deeper into her feet.

'In me,' Zaraeth gasped. 'Put it in me, please, put it in.'

'Inside you?' Vhyl asked, all leering smile. 'You want my shaft to go into you? You want it in your belly, slut?'

Unseen by Zaraeth, Vhyl's long tail moved across the rocky ground to where he had dropped his long iron spear.

'Yes,' Zaraeth said, her spirit completely broken. 'I want your shaft in my belly. Please, I'll do whatever you want.'

Vhyl pulled back a little, his cockhead moving down so that it nudged the entrance to her pussy. The humbled demoness moved her hips a little, inviting him to move into her, wanting only to be free of her painful humiliation as quickly as possible. It was not the first time Zaraeth had found herself helpless in the grasp of creatures such as Vhyl and Fylth, and she knew that resistance would only add to her torment.

Satyra watched from the side and felt herself grow sick at the sight of the blue demoness demeaning herself before her attackers. The female spread her legs a little wider and moved her hips, teasing Vhyl's thick nine inch penis with her outer lips, the lips that were still stained with the blood of his claws tearing at her. The spectacle of a woman, even a demon woman, made to debase herself and beg to be raped made her want to vomit. She tried top look away, but Sadiste held her by the hair at the back of her head, forcing her to watch the unholy scene playing out. Satyra flicked her eyes towards the ground to try and avoid the show, and saw Vhyl's tail curled around his spear on the ground. With barely a sound he lifted the weapon with this tail and moved it towards his left hand that had strayed down next to his hip.

Wit a sudden explosion of clarity Satyra saw what was about to happen. Instinctively she began to shout a warning, but Sadiste's long nailed hand wrapped itself over her mouth, stifling her outcry. 'Patience,' the red demoness whispered in the priestess' ear. 'Your time will come.'

Satyra struggled as the tail moved the iron spear into Vhyl's waiting hand. His cock was now almost parting the devil woman's labia.

'You want me to ram my shaft into you belly,' he growled, his face becoming angry. Zaraeth looked up at him in terror and swallowed hard. 'Then say the words, cunt. Say it!'

'Please,' she half whispered, half wept, 'ram your shaft into me. Ram it into my belly, please.' She closed her eyes, opened them full of fresh tears. 'Please.'

Vhyl moved his hand back down to her breast, cupping it gently. 'As you wish,' he said softly.

With the swiftness of a viper Vhyl reared back, towering over the victim on the stone. Zaraeth felt his cock push up into her to the edge of her inner sanctum, bracing herself for the penetration, then saw his hand with the spear coming up and angling over Vhyl's shoulder. She shrieked in terror and tried to squirm aside, but it was useless. 'No!' she screamed. 'NO!!!"