Bigot in Hell

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A bigot is transformed into a gay sex addict...
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This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.

Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.

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Damien gasped, leaping upright, though the action didn't feel quite right to him. It had been too smooth, too fluid, as if his body had become light -- and just who jumped straight up onto their feet in a single motion when they had been flat out with their cheek pressed into the dirt. The last thing he remembered, as he blinked grit from his eyes and turned his head near-blindly back and forth, was being slammed face-down in an alleyway, that brute of a man looming over him. What the fuck was up with that?

But Damien had not led a good life on earth, even if he was not a man that would have seen it that way. He'd always been clean-shaven, a high-flyer in the office, a winning smile, dark hair and green eyes. He had been a man who had always been well-groomed and to say that he looked down on others would have been an understatement, but none more so than those men that liked men.

The memory rose unbidden as the blurry world around him came back into focus, a wretched city that appeared to be burning and broken, the sky a swathe of clouds and blistering with red, as if there was a fire burning up there. Yet he remembered, in excruciating detail, how he had mocked and belittled, how he had even gone after gay men, chasing them from places he frequented, nothing more than a thug dressed up in a nice man's clothing. He didn't see it that way, of course not, but the act of being cast down to hell would automatically show him exactly why he had been sent down there.

Those that ended up in hell, well...they rarely understood why they ended up there, even when the incidents and ways of living that had landed them there had been played out before their eyes. They always thought that they were right, that they were infallible, and he growled, brushing off his torn jeans.

"Where the fucking hell am I?"

"Well, sugar tits, you've already answered your own question."

Damien whipped around, one hand balled up into a fist, though the demon that greeted him, well...he was not a threat, not per se. Crystal Methin (say it quickly) grinned, a tall demon who could have looked gangly if he did not wear his skinny frame so well.

"And who the fuck are you?"

Crystal grinned more widely, his hair styled up, big and fluffy, his waist tightly tucked. A demon could look however they needed to, of course, though once they'd chosen a shape that was usually fixed for them. The stronger demons in hell, of course, could shapeshift and, generally, he stayed the fuck away from those. He was just there to torture the fresh meat that was tossed down from Earth, the scavenged scraps of the wretches of humanity. With blue fur and a skinny figure that commanded attention, there was a perpetual smile on his sharply angled face, not appearing human although he was, decidedly, humanoid. Silver slices of markings highlighted his blue fur, though he didn't have a tail or anything that anyone could notice.

"It's Crystal Methin, Crystal to you. How do you do?"

He bowed, wide and sweeping, a long trench coat style jacket falling to his knees, not revealing anything, but how tight his waist was, all belted up. His limbs were long and lean and he grinned toothily, his teeth sharp enough and obviously so that Damien took a step back, hesitant.

"What... I'm in...hell? That's not right! I shouldn't have died! I should be in heaven! I don't belong here!"

He stomped about with a snarl on his face, twisting his handsome features into something rough and grotesque, showing the hatred and vileness that, previously, had only laid within.

"You've made a fucking mistake, do you hear me?" He bellowed, red in the face, jabbing his finger at the sky. "Take me back -- I'm not done up there yet! I don't fucking belong down in this fucking pit! You arseholes!"

Crystal watched it all with a grin on his face, though, sooner or later, the show had to go on. It was supposed to be torture, after all, for Damien, not him.

"Well, toots, there ain't too much I can help you with, down here in little ol' hell," Crystal lamented, or at least pretended to, brushing one hand back through his fluffed-up hair. "You're a sinner and, honey, the lottery ain't been kind to you. You're one of us down here now and you better fucking get used to it!"

Damien hissed through his teeth, torso tipping forward, both hands clenched, shaking with fury.

"Why are you talking like that?" He practically snarled, though he already knew, hatred boiling and roiling in the pit of his stomach. "You... You're one of them, aren't you? You've been fucking sent here to torture me with your twinky fucking pansy ways!"

Crystal, who had been picking his teeth with the tip of a fingernail that was more like a claw, started, appearing affronted as he pressed one hand to the fluff of his chest.

"What? Me? A latent homosexual?"

He collapsed back on the ground as if he had fainted, one arm cast over his head, dramatic to a fault. His other arms, other than the regular two, took that chance to appear, three pairs in total crawling over him, ripping his clothes off, down to sparkly, purple and blue lingerie that appeared as if it would have been more at home on a lady than him. That was, of course, at first glance. Anything that Crystal Methin purchased down in hell with their favoured currency was put towards his outfits and feeding his addictions, which could be indulged however he liked in hell, considering that he was a demon and all.

"I'll give it to you straight, cutie, since that's the way you seem to like things. You're not gonna get out of hell now, you're dead. Dead, dead, dead. You got it? But I'm gonna give you a grand ol' welcome to hell, show you a real good time!"

Crystal smirked, showing his teeth, advancing step by step, though Damien held his ground, trembling, his fists raised. It wasn't at all like getting into a brawl at the pub -- but the fucking homo was going to really try to punch him up?

"Don't you dare come fucking near me, fag!" He snarled, though fear laced his words. "You belong here, cunt, but I fucking don't!"

"Oh, darling, that's where you're wrong," Crystal crooned, his voice as smooth as silk. "I was born here. It's your life choices that tossed you down into this pit with me. But they always said I could queerify the straightest bastard on the planet -- so let's see about the latest bastard in hell then, shall we?"

It was not something that Damien was allowed an option in. Crystal laughed and sashayed up to him, making a kissy-face and swinging his hips. His hands were apt to wander, sliding down the man's body, squeezing and groping, laughing at his slight bit of a belly and showing him the barely non-existent bulge in his jeans, though those would not be required for much longer.

Damien flinched, breath catching in his throat, heart racing. Sweat even pooled under his armpits, darkening his clothes and soaking the hair to be found there.

"Oi -- get off!" He would have loved for his voice to not be as shaky as it was. "I didn't say... No, I don't fucking want this, you're all the fucking same, sex demons. This only proves that gays belong in heeeeeeell!

He yelped and squealed as his cock and balls were groped through his clothes, massaging and fondling as if Crystal already had him eating out of the palm of his hand.

"Oh, honey, you ain't seen nothing yet. But you're going to have to put out this less than fine arse down here too..." He pursed his lips, surveying Damien's body as if it was suddenly something that could be changed. "Think I'll give you a hand fixing that, but this torture is going to be suuuuuper fun for me!"

The demon knew his job and knew his role: after all, he had been doing it for eternity. Time had little meaning in hell and he went from one sinner to the next, lusting and fucking, taking his pleasure however he damn well pleased. That might have made him wrong, but fucking in hell was practically the same as getting coffee back on earth: totally expected.

Still, he spun Damien about with a smirk, his teeth showing, hair ruffled by a hellish breeze. There was no one about, but that suited Crystal just fine, taking the spoils of corruption in hand as he smacked Damien's backside. The man groaned and held up his hands, dizzy and off-balance by how he staggered, yet Crystal only saw that as an opportunity.

One moment he was clothed, however torn and dirty his clothes had been from that rough and tumble brawl back on the surface world, and the next he was nude. Stripped naked, his cock and balls hanging out, the demon already down on his knees before him.

What should have been a submissive position, typically, was turned into a position of power as Crystal smirked, hefting his cock and balls in his hand as if he was weighing them for size. His cock twitched, even as Damien looked on in horror, his body paralysed as if he was amid a night terror, mind twisting and spinning, blood roaring in his ears.

Crystal whistled, though it was a sad kind of whistle that came down on the endnote rather than up, fingers teasing and stroking his shaft.

"Huh, well it ain't nothing to look at but it'll have to do!"

"Stop it! I don't fucking want this, you homo! Piss off and leave me the fuck alone!"

"Oh... Brave words. Or is that what your mates said to you when you were kicking a gay fella down into the dirt? Do you even remember what happened to that guy you left at the lake? Do you know how many you put into the hospital, how many you cost jobs, how many you ruined the lives of, tearing apart relationships?"

Damien hissed and groaned, fingers twitching, though he didn't seem able to move them, not even as every fibre of his being screamed at him to get away from the demon and his long, grasping fingers around his cock. His body responded, even though his mind hated every second of it, nausea roiling and twisting in his stomach, though he would not have thought that it should have even been possible to throw up after dying.

"They all deserved it... Just like you, you probably did something to be put here too. Who's born into hell?"

"If you don't want it then, sugar-baby, why are you so still for me? Damn, you get hard quick! Maybe you're as darn homo as me!"

But he couldn't do anything, couldn't move, could barely think, panting and heaving, his head spinning and spinning. The sensation of nausea and wanting to empty the contents of his non-existent stomach remained, hunched over, but the demon had him hard and ready, even though he loathed it.

He didn't want to be there, his jaws hanging open in a gormless gape, a black hole into which sick things went to die. For there was a sickness in the man that had been sent down into the pits of hell, well and truly, the demon taking his cock into his mouth with a succulent smirk.

"No..."

"Mmmmm!"

Crystal, somehow, even managed to smirk around the length of his cock, even though his head swam, aching and pounding, not wanting to be there. Even though Damien was still able to keep and hold his body upright, legs shaking, he could do no more than that, shaking his head, lips opening and closing in soundless horror. He could not even be sure if he had even managed to cry out at all, heaving and panting, his chest rising and falling more and more sharply.

Crystal, however, was not to be dissuaded from that in the slightest, his arms all coming into play as two hands closed on Damien's thighs, drawing him in closer, another two groping and squeezing his nuts. It was not supposed to be entirely pleasurable for the man, after all, and he could be rougher with him than he was with a partner who he was trying to please, though the lines were so very blurred in hell. Those down there that did want to get freaky quite often enjoyed rougher play too, though Damien, well, he was a special case.

And Crystal had a very special place in hell for the deviant, the one who had been wrong all along and who should never have looked down on those for simply loving who they loved. Love was the name of Crystal's game, after all!

He groaned around Damien's cock, making a show of slurping on him, the man's hands moving above his head, though they didn't do anything to push him away. He could have, yes, by that point, Crystal's freezing influence only temporary -- but the force of a demon's lips around anyone's cock was too luscious to ignore. The man moaned and muttered something surely offensive, but as was befitting of his eternal, infernal punishment, Crystal had just the thing in mind for him.

Damien trembled, his eyes wide, though he could not deny that it was the best blowjob of his "after" life, so to speak. So wet and so hot, the demon's lips closing around him as they practically sucked him down into the back of his throat -- if his prick had been long enough, that was. He didn't want to thrust, but his body was moving of its own according, grinding his moderate length over Crystal's tongue as if he was really getting into it and wanted more!

Yet his body, down there in hell, was far beyond the limits of what he could have imagined and there was no further control that Damien could have over his body when there was a demon intent on torturing him. Only, torture did not have to be painful as his cock was gloriously sucked off, the demon's tongue curling and flicking around and over the head of his prick. Somehow, the damn thing knew what would work best for him, what felt the best, though Damien refused to even acknowledge that that was because he was homosexual and probably spent all day every day sucking dick.

He didn't want his dick sucked by a guy. But he was going to get it anyway.

Crystal lavished attention on Damien's cock, letting his essence seep into the homophobic bastard, letting him be infused by what made Crystal who he was. Damien gasped, yet he was helpless to stop his naked body from rippling and changing, another nuance of hell slipping through. Crystal grunted around his cock, bobbing his head, slurping and moaning, pulling out every last trick in the book that he had to drive Damien over the edge.

Yet it was only fear and horror that flooded the man, feeling as if he was thrashing and writhing but not managing to move at all. Even if Crystal had not had a paralysing effect on him, he still would not have been able to pull away as Crystal's hands latched onto him, seeming to grip him everywhere, too many, all at once.

His skin rippled and pulsed, though the soft cry he made at fur prickling to life all over him had his heart turning over, plunging into the pit of his stomach. Blue fur... Blue just like Crystal's. Did that mean he was turning into a gay demon too? He moaned deeply, head rolling back, pleasure overwhelming, twisting with disgust.

No... No, it was wrong, so wrong, even as the arms of ecstasy beckoned, the demon warping him through the blowjob as he grew a little taller, leaner, muscle definition softened from his body. His chest plumped up a little with a thicker ruff of fur, almost giving the illusion of breasts if they were pushed together into cleavage, yet Damien was only a bystander to the horror of his own body. His fingers twitched, growing longer, finer, more delicate, no longer recognisable as himself, though no one in hell would have wanted to know the bigot he'd been anyway. Oddly enough, especially in hell, that sort of thing was not tolerated down there.

"No... Please... No... Mmmph... Puh...leash..."

He tried to talk, but his lips twisted, his face softening and rearranging his features so that he became more feminine, fluffy all over and fur tickling his nose. His nostrils slimmed down and his nose flattened, his legs so thin that they did not appear, on first glance to be able to support his body, though Damien would come to learn in time that that sort of thing did not matter too much in hell, the laws of physics and whatnot.

He grunted, head swimming, yet the changes were far from complete, silver lines and markings appearing struck through his blue fur, the blowjob exquisite. He didn't know how to focus on either his transformation or getting head, but if he didn't think about who or what was blowing him, it was almost okay. Damien was not emotionally intelligent enough to understand that that was just as homophobic as all the things that he had said and done before in his life.

The demon twined his tongue around Damien's cock, slurping and drawing him deep, his prick growing, becoming a mirror image of the one that Crystal Methin had -- and, oh, what a cock it was! Far, far better than that measly little prick Damien had before, reaching the back of his throat, though demons were rarely blessed with oversized genitalia. It was still hell, after all, and everything was under Satan's rule at the end of the day, even if there were no discernible days either.

He'd have the man, yes, turning him into the image of what he hated the most, smirking around his cock, his gag reflex non-existent. For the rest of eternity, demon after demon would use him, would fuck him, would take him over and over again, letting horror reel and wrack his mind, breaking down what Damien had been before. He would forget, in the end, the man that he had been, but his disgust would remain as a part of who he was, Damien driven to fuck only males in hell, lusting for them with his body even while his mind begged and begged him not to do it.

Eventually, he would be broken and not even realise it, taking loads of cum down his throat, getting sucked off, his backside bruised and abused, cock begging for more. Crystal's eyes danced at the thought. Oh, he couldn't wait to see just how his creation would be tortured!

For it was the impure image of Crystal that Damien was to be fully transformed into, even his eyes becoming larger and more appealing, a brilliant sapphire just like Crystal's. He didn't have Crystal's sparkling blue and purple lingerie, of course, but he embodied the spirit of it, his body thrusting and humping as if he was a porn star, all of a sudden. Of course, Damien could not know what Crystal did in his life down there, if life in hell could be considered such.

"Oh... Yeah, baby..." He moaned, horrified by the words slipping from his lips, fully in the image of Crystal as his new, final shape settled over him, forever transformed. "Do it just like that... Mmm... I love it so much..."

What was he saying? That wasn't him! Yet Damien no longer had an existence that he dictated, facing his eternal punishment as the lure of orgasm bubbled within his gut. It strained, though it would seal the deal on his transformation, finally forcing him to become everything that he hated, to live his days down there until the end of time itself was wished for.

He couldn't help it, pleasure brimming over, groaning deeply, hating his life, what his existence had become, spilling his load straight down the demon's throat. Crystal moaned around him, far too openly relishing in everything for Damien's liking, though there was no turning it back, not as his transformed form locked in around him, that of a sex icon down in hell, someone that everyone and anyone would want to fuck. Even if he was not the real Crystal Methin, they would want to screw him anyway, whether it was sucking, fucking or something else entirely, using and abusing him only in the kind of sexual encounters that, frankly, he should never have shied away from anyway.

Who knew... Perhaps Damien was shoving down his attraction to men the whole time? He had eternity to work it out, though his torture would ring eternal, even as Crystal less than lovingly lashed his cock with his long, slippery tongue, winding it around, pulsing and teasing. That tongue did wonderful things, weird things, horrific things that a human tongue could never have done, reminding him, once again, that he was in hell, his spunk pouring down Crystal's throat.

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