Trent the Traitor

Trent wanted to be sick, but knew if he was the succubi would cast him into the vile orgy without a moment's hesitation.

"There," Lophi said, pointing ahead. "The Sarus Tower."

An enormous gray stone column, as thick across as a house, thrust upwards out of the writhing mass of flesh and up towards the unseen ceiling far above. Seams of void-black obsidian ran through the stonework like bulging veins. A spiral staircase coiled around it like a filigree serpent.

"What's up there?" Trent asked.

"The higher echelons," Lophi answered.

"Sounds fancy," Trent said.

"It's a place reserved for those of the highest honor," Lophi said.

"And that's me?"

"You're a hero to us," Chauli said. She gave him a hug that pressed a soft breast against his side. "Without you many of us might have died."

It was true.

"I'm just an Average Joe that happened to be in the right place at the right time."

"We're going to take you up to receive your reward." Lophi turned back to smile at him.

Her eyes looked like orbs of polished jet. Trent couldn't read them and was afraid to stare at them for too long in case he found himself sucked through into a place light never visited.

They picked their way through the cavorting throng and reached the foot of the staircase. It looked like a fire escape made out of gold. Trent placed his foot on the bottom step and a cold shiver ran through him.

Like someone stepped on your grave.

He had the disturbing premonition he was climbing the steps that led to his own gallows.

No. Push it aside. Any sign he was anything less than a hundred percent with them and they'd tear him apart just like those poor slobs all around him. He had no option but to keep playing his hand. Keep playing it like it was a winner. Keep playing like the river was going to come up and make his hand. He had to stay in right to the end, right until the last card was flipped over.

They followed the spiral stair up and rose above the debauched pandemonium of the great hall below. After one complete circuit of the column Lophi took them out onto a platform that looked like something a royal or head of state would use when addressing the masses. Off in the distance Trent saw other massive columns. The hall was vaster than an aircraft hangar and the floor was carpeted with cavorting demons as far as the eye could see.

Lophi shouted out to gain the attention of the crowd below. Her voice had a strange sing-song quality that might have been beautiful had it not also possessed cadences that sounded like iron nails scraping across a blackboard. She held up his arm like a fight referee. He didn't understand what she said, but the demons below looked up and roared.

"Enjoy it, hero," Chauli said from behind him. Her hands roamed over his ass.

A bubble of pride and elation welled up inside him. He waved. They were cheering... for him. Was this how it felt for the Golden Boys when they picked up their trophies and medals? Trent didn't know. He was an Average Joe. No one ever cheered for an Average Joe.

That's because they were too busy bowing and scraping to the Golden Boys, stepping aside so the guys who already had everything could take even more. Not Trent. He was going to play his crummy little hand however it took to win. Traitor, hero: two sides of the same coin. All that mattered was being on the face-up side when it flipped.

Trent saw a face he recognized in the crowd. She was a pretty young orderly from one of the medical teams. He couldn't remember her name, but he liked her. They'd spoken a couple of times in the mess hall. She had a spunky sense of humor.

She wasn't looking up and cheering. She was being raped—spit-roast between two barrel-chested monsters with wild manes and savage features. Her eyes were flat and empty, the lights switched off and no one home.

Trent still thought her eyes were accusing him, even though they were as empty as a doll's. That's what she was now, a broken doll of flesh and bone.

And he'd made her like that.

No, put it aside. Don't dwell on it. He'd done what he'd had to do. If he hadn't it would have been him down there.

"What's this about?" he whispered to Lophi.

"You're the guest of honor," Lophi replied, and didn't elaborate further.

So was the sacrifice in every one of those devil-worshipper films.

"I like the sound of that," Trent said. He smiled and waved like royalty and tried to ignore what his eyes saw.

It was as every good gambler knew. If you played as if you expected to lose, it became a self-fulfilling prophecy. Trent was playing to win. He was a winner. He was a hero, their hero. Because of him the enemy stronghold (his base) had been smashed and its soldiers (his friends) all captured or killed. He was going to carry on up these stairs and collect the reward they were going to give him, because that's what winners did and he was a winner.

Shauna Jay's—that was her name, he remembered now—dead eyes stared back at him accusingly from the inside of his eyelids. They were marked there forever, like an indelible tattoo.

He turned and followed the succubi up the winding stair.

He didn't look behind him.

"So this reward, any chance of a hint?" Trent asked after they'd completed another revolution of the great column. "The anticipation's killing me."

Lophi and Chauli shared a glance.

"Patience," Lophi said. "Soon you'll be experiencing pleasures even kings only dream of."

"Pleasure and king, that's two words I like the sound of," Trent said, forcing a grin.

Up above them Trent saw the underside of a strange metallic platform. It was curved, like the underside of a boat, but the flowing lines seemed more organic in shape. The column went straight through the middle of it. What a weird structure, Trent thought. Then it clicked and Trent realized what it looked like. In other circumstances he might have broken out in a cheeky smile, but not here, definitely not here. It was a gigantic sculpture of a woman's vulva, and the column passed up between giant golden labia.

There was something hanging beneath the platform, right at the top of the vagina where the sculpture curved to a point. Trent expected it to be a representation of the clitoris, or maybe an exotic clitoral piercing. As they climbed higher Trent realized it was the sculpture of an enormous breast, hanging from the underside of the other structure like an enormous overripe fruit. It was black in color, but edging more to the slate-gray of stone than the rich brownish-black of the darkest-skinned humans. Strange runes and symbols were etched in gold along the curved surface. They formed concentric rings around an enormous gray nipple.

Trent wondered what had happened to the rest of the sculpture. Had it toppled to the floor eons ago and left behind only this single breast as a remainder?

They carried on up as the staircase wound between the thick column and curved golden lips of the titanic vagina. Inside, the air was warm and thick with a musky odor that reminded Trent of hooker's bedrooms. Then they were through and standing on a curved platform far above the debauchery taking place below. Now it seemed to Trent as though they were standing on the curved deck of a pleasure barge with the column rising up like a mast. The spiral staircase continued up further towards the unseen ceiling, but the succubi chose this point to exit it. Smoking braziers stood up from the ground like torches and lined a pathway leading to the pointed end of the platform, where the floor curved down rather than up, and a naked girl awaited them like a queen sitting on a throne.

Odd place for royalty to sit, Trent thought. The big cheeses always liked to put their chairs higher than anyone else. Made it easier to look down on the Average Joes.

Wow, fucking awesome body, Trent thought as they approached her.

She wasn't human. You could tell that from her skin color—slate-gray almost bordering on jet-black. But she looked more human than the other succubi around him. She didn't have their horns, wings, or other devilish features. She also had the biggest pair of jugs Trent had seen outside of dirty Japanese comics. Strange alien symbols were tattooed or painted on her black flesh in glittering gold ink. The cryptic scrawl formed hoops around her nipples and midriff. Similar chains of shining gold were threaded through her braided black hair. She stared at them with eyes like pools of molten gold.

Who was she? Important? She looked important. A queen? Was she going to give him his reward? Was she his reward?

Questions, questions.

Could he reach the edge of the platform and jump off before the devil girls stopped him?

No. He'd come this far. He had to see it through to the turn of the final card.

They reached a lip in the floor. Beyond it the floor sloped down to the girl below them. He noticed the girl was sitting on top of the sculpture of the gigantic breast he'd seen from below. He also noticed her seat was located within a sunken depression and the polished floor curved down to her lap like a funnel.

"What have you brought me?" she asked. Her voice was rich and melodious.

"A special human, Saccopharyna," Lophi answered.

Special. Trent liked the sound of that. Special. Not another Average Joe chump.

The final card was coming off the deck.

C'mon, c'mon, hit it! Trent thought. Be the fucking Golden Boy for once in your fucking nothing Average Joe life.

"Without his help we wouldn't have been able to destroy the human base so easily," Lophi said.

"A traitor?" Saccopharyna said. She ran a tongue over bee-stung lips the color of an oil slick. "I love traitors. They have the most piquant essences."

Trent's heart hammered in his chest. He didn't like the word essences. He forced a smile. Had to play it through to the end.

"About my reward..." he asked.

...you can forget it, he wanted to say. Just let me go back home to Earth, that's all I ask. I don't need anything. Let me go back through the gate and I'll scream to anyone willing to listen to shut the thing down and call it off.

Because if they don't, if the demons here find a way back through, Earth is fucking done.

He couldn't. He knew, as any competent gambler would tell you, only chumps bought out. He'd come this far. He couldn't risk blowing it all by them taking offense over his refusal. He had to wait for the final card and pray it made his hand.

"Ah yes, your reward," Saccopharyna said.

Lophi and Chauli were standing uncomfortably close to him.

"Hey, wait," he said as they started to pull down his pants.

"We're getting you ready to receive your reward," Lophi said.

She kissed him on the cheek and his skittering heart was buried under a blanket of soporific languor. Trent blinked woozily. He didn't resist as the two succubi undressed him.

Saccopharyna smiled, held out her arms and opened what Trent had mistakenly thought were her legs. A glistening fleshy tunnel opened up beneath her.

It was alive.

The globe beneath her shivered and pulsed—not a sculpture but flesh and part of her body. It jiggled like a gigantic breast. The girl sighed and the lurid pink gash opened wider and wider. A tunnel wide enough to fit him, the whole of him.

Trent's eyes widened. The latent panic that had been thrumming through his system ever since the succubi had forced him to accompany them finally erupted up through his façade of calmness. He started to struggle against the succubi holding him.

Chauli slipped a hand beneath his legs. Her long fingers cupped his balls and she inserted a thumb into his ass. The fight was sucked out of him and replaced with a sudden weakness. A warm glow enveloped his sexual organs and an irresistible horniness pushed aside all other thoughts. While she held him like this, Trent was nothing more than her glove puppet.

Chauli tickled the underside of his sac. Her other hand pumped up and down his growing erection. "See how eager he is for you," she said.

Beneath them, the lewd pink orifice of Saccopharyna gaped wide in anticipation. They meant to put him in there, naked.

"Wait! Wait!" Trent called out, trying to fight against the rising tide of incapacitating arousal pulsing from his groin. "I can give you more. Anything. Whatever you want."

Lophi laughed. "You're going to give us more. You're going to give us everything."

The succubi pushed him over the edge and he slithered down towards the yawning pink maw.

No no no, Trent thought. His feet kicked out and he scrabbled ineffectually in an attempt to check his slide. He knew now he'd been marching inexorably to this fate from the moment the succubi had captured him. But what else could he have done? Every other choice would have led to losing, his death and worse. The only play had been to see it through to the final card, and now that had come up blank, as he'd known it had been all along.

Trent's foot came up against flesh—soft and yielding. He tried to push away and his foot slipped over a fleshy lip and into a hole. His toes raked down soft squishy walls lined with warm slithery oils. A band of soft muscle bunched up, contracted around his ankle and pulled him deeper. Trent fell forward into the embrace of the demon girl with golden eyes and a gigantic boob for the bottom half of her body.

"There's no need to be afraid," she whispered.

Trent's mind thrashed between competing extremes. His upper body felt the warm embrace of a soft womanly figure. His lower body felt the slimy grip of an enormous toothless maw. Soft but irresistible flesh wrapped around his calves and tugged him down deeper. Moist labia, as thick as his arm, kissed his thighs. Trent felt Saccopharyna's boobs, big and soft like pillows, press against his chest. It wasn't enough to assuage his terror as another peristaltic gulp jerked him deeper inside her pulsing lower breast. He twisted and turned, trying to pull his body free like a man stuck in thick mud.

"Stop squirming," Saccopharyna laughed.

Her hands moved up to the back of Trent's head and she pulled him close for a kiss. It wasn't an expression of romance or passion, but a way of subduing prey. Trent felt a pleasant tingling on his lips and a comfortable languor drifted down through his body. He stopped squirming and his arms fell to his sides. His body rebelled and responded. He kissed her back, lost in the warmth of her embrace. The lips between what should have been her legs stretched wider and took in his hips.

Saccopharyna released him from the kiss and smiled at him with golden eyes. She rubbed a pink tongue along glossy black lips. The gigantic fleshy tit beneath her body contracted and then swelled, squeezing tight around his legs and tugging him down. His eyes were level with her chin.

It was over. The last card had turned up a death's head. His hand was busted; there was nothing left to play for. The demon was going to swallow him down into the fleshy sac beneath her body and there was fuck all he could do about it.

Swallowed up into a giant tit, was that cruel and ironic enough for all you bastards, Trent thought.

Necessity might have forced him to play the role of the traitor, but he didn't intend to go out like one. No pleading or weeping from him, it wouldn't do any good anyway. He might not have lived his life to the ideals of people that didn't know how hard those ideals were to keep for anyone other than the Golden Boys, but the game was over now. He could act how he wanted. Be who he wanted.

He focused on a point of calmness within him. He straightened his shoulders.

He could still die a man.

Face set in defiance he stared up at the demon. "Fuck you," he said.

Saccopharyna put a hand to her mouth. The skin next to her eyes creased up in laughter lines. "My, how hostile," she said.

She wrapped her arms around his head and hugged him tight to her bosom. Trent's face was wedged into her deep cleavage. The soft swell of her boobs pressed all around him like pillows. Her softness surrounded him. It enveloped his lower body and he felt her slippery walls rub against him. It felt like countless hands giving his legs an oily massage. The giant breast swelled again and Trent dropped another couple of inches.

Saccopharyna twisted her upper body and slid Trent's face along the soft cushion of her right breast. The hard rubbery point of her nipple forced its way between his lips. The ample flesh of her breast shivered, the nipple squirted and it felt like a Fourth of July fireworks display was going off inside his mouth.

Trent couldn't recall a taste. Sweet or savory, no word seemed to fit. The fluid splashed onto his tongue, electrified his taste buds and all he knew was he had to have more, more, more. Helpless to stop himself, he fastened lips around the rubbery nub of her nipple and began to suckle like a newborn. More of the molten ambrosia gushed into his mouth and he swallowed it down.

No. What was he doing? He knew how it looked—him suckling on her nipple like a baby—and the last vestiges of dignity shriveled up inside him. He couldn't stop it. His body was not his to control. Saccopharyna's breast gently pulsed as she pumped more of her demon milk into his mouth. Trent swallowed it down and sucked eagerly for more.

He felt the liquid settle in his stomach and a pleasant warm glow spread through his abdomen. He felt a little odd inside—squishy—but it felt nice. Waves of warm bliss settled down in his balls like sediment settling at the bottom of a glass of water. A burgeoning horniness pulsed out from his groin and Trent's cock hardened in excitement.

No. What was she doing to him?

"That's better," Saccopharyna said. "Relax. The milking is really pleasant."

Her spine arched, she tipped her head back and released a lewd sigh. The orifice between her legs tightened around Trent's hips and dragged him forward. Trent's erection slipped between soft folds of flesh lined with wriggling villi and dripping with warm juices that sent pleasant tingles down the length of his shaft. A muscular peristalsis wrapped around and tugged on his member. Trent felt like he was receiving a handjob from a multitude of skilled oil-covered hands. Her great fleshy breast pulsed and swayed. Soft flesh as hot as a sauna pressed around his lower body and sent waves of luxurious sensation flowing through him.

Saccopharyna mewled in pleasure. She hugged him tight to her breasts and her hands roamed all over Trent's naked back. The soft tissues of the sac beneath her body continued to wriggle and rub all over his body. A froth of warm lubricant bubbled up around his waist. The giant boob swelled again. Her oversize, over-plump labia closed around his midriff in a soft kiss and sucked. Down Trent went, drawn inside her like a birth in reverse and unable to resist. His knees folded as her flesh packed up around him. He was sitting in her now, sitting within her monstrous lower breast as though she was a luxurious warm bath filled with scented soap, sitting within a luxuriously warm bath while a pair of incredibly talented concubines ran skilled hands up and down his twitching hard-on. Trent's arms, his chest, his shoulders were drawn inside her.

"Mmm, it's time to milk you," Saccopharyna murmured.

His head supported by the plush cushions of her labia, Trent stared up at a vision from a wet dream. A porn star goddess with enormous tits was straddling his chest. Saccopharyna pouted and tensed as though to ride him, which couldn't be possible, she was sitting almost on his neck, and yet it felt like his cock had plunged into a tight vagina overflowing with wet juices. Something that felt like a soft fleshy bag contracted around him. Somewhere deep within the smothered remnants of his psyche, terror rang alarm bells that failed to penetrate the comfortable enervation saturating the rest of his mind and body. Trent tucked up as her soft flesh packed around him. The gigantic breast throbbed with slow, regular pulsations. It felt like a woman's hips slapping down in his lap, again and again, not just fucking his cock but the whole of his body. The warm feeling had permeated out from Trent's stomach and left him feeling pleasantly woozy.