Drummer Boy - Back Into Hell Ch. 03

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Worst. Road trip. Ever...
19.3k words
4.77
6.8k
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Part 3 of the 11 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 04/19/2018
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Hello all, Lady D here! I had to put a rush on this to make sure it was entered in time for the Literotica Thanksgiving Day contest. It took up the entire holiday, but I finally got it in. Yay, me! I'm totally gonna win that prize!

What?! There's no Thanksgiving Day contest? Oh.

No, it's okay. I'm fine, it's just allergies. Or something. Just...read the next installment while I ... check on that sudden weeping noise in the closet.

* * * * *

"Sounds kinda fishy," Leanne said.

"Super sketch, no doubt," Jason said. "And considering what I found out about Tarterus humans later..."

Leanne shook her head. "Ain't no one ever tellya don't stick your dick in crazy?" she said.

"I'm tellin' you, I didn't have a lot of choice in the matter!" protested Jason.

"I hear that from you a lot," Leanne said. "Real convenient, innit?"

Jason threw his hands up in frustration. "You know what it's like there," he said. "What else was I supposed to do?"

"Rhetorical question," Leanne said, "but I'll grant it ya didn't have a lot of options."

"Gee, thanks," Jason said sullenly.

"Alright," Leanne said. "So you successfully you fucked a human. Congratulations, but not exactly boss level. Get on with it."

"Okay," Jason said, "so after that, we got underway..."

* * *

Jason was mired in an awful dream. There were demons, Spines, a whole lot of them. And a sickening amount of fighting, with all the horrid carnage that went along with it.

He saw his arms, golden and feminine, cleaving the raging, beefy Spines into pieces, wielding a sword of brilliant yellow energy. He usually ended them with a final, swift strike to lop the head off. But not always. If he felt generous, he simply split them in half, right down the middle. If he was feeling playful, he took the time to slice off their horns and their limbs, "Boxing Helena"-style. This ensured that they were out of the fight but, unable to die while their head remained attached, they could only watch in impotent horror while he continued to slaughter their sisters.

His extra-special favorite method, though, the one that gave him the biggest thrill, was crushing their heads in between his powerful, golden thighs. He really did like this way the best, and not just because it left his hands free for more carnage. He could carry the Spine around between his legs while he flew. Trapped and flailing, unable to either escape or penetrate his lustrous skin, the Spine squirmed deliciously down there, filling him with rich, sadistic pleasure. When he finally squeezed his thighs together, crushing the Spine's head into bone-splintered meat, it provided one final profoundly satisfying spasm, before the still-jerking corpse fell away, to land somewhere among his justifiably horrified enemies.

Then his perspective whirly-jerked around to a new target, and he'd do it again. And again. And again. The enemies seemed as endless as his power was limitless.

And after the fighting...mmm, after the fighting...

He walked among the corpses of his fallen enemies, surveying physically and searching mentally for those few who remained alive. Their condition whether blind, limbless, or disemboweled, didn't matter. When he found one still living, he picked her up and, with his great strength, tossed her onto a rapidly-growing pile of defeated foes. He knew that, across the battlefield, his battle-sister was doing the same, helping him in this process.

Once satisfied that he'd retrieved them all, he made his way back to the grisly mound they'd created. Scores of writhing bodies, most of them incomplete. Some still shouted epithets, some pleaded for mercy, but most were unable to do more than groan pitifully. As he got closer, a few of the Spines who were still able tried to zap him with lightning from their horns. Although his hide reduced their best efforts to a whimsical tickle, he nonetheless appreciated their spunk.

Reaching the edge of the mound, he spread his wings and rose into the air. Only then did he see his sister, across the pile of bodies, hovering in the same manner. She presented to him an image that must have mirrored his own: a winged woman with horns and a tail, shimmering with power and glistening with gore. Especially between her legs. Oh, yes, he and his battle-sister shared similar appetites.

As one, their eyes sparked into magical fire as they linked into all the minds below at once, invading them. At first sniffing around their surface thoughts, as if lapping at the savory juices of their suffering. Then, diving deeper, to rip at the tenderest parts of their collective psyche. Delicious already, but it was about to get better.

Using their horns, he and his battle-sister sent cascades of lightning into the mound, setting it ablaze. He found himself again pleased by the colors of their combustion. The flames tended toward violet, often darkening to rich plum near the center, and magenta licking the edges of the mound. The contrast against the red ochre landscape surrounding them was quite nice.

With the pyre of bodies burning below, he and his sister drank deep of those suffering minds. It was a heady brew of agony and despair, of terror and anguish. More than the thrill of battle, more than satisfaction of victory, this bliss was the true prize. Together, he and his sister had dominated their foes, humiliated them, conquered them utterly, and now they were obliterating their very souls. They drained the Spines' essences, absorbing that power and adding it to their own.

But he wasn't looking at the burning mass of flesh below. His eyes were only for his battle-sister. His cruel, beautiful sister, with her stained-glass butterfly wings. Her ferocity had matched his own in this battle, as it had in those previous, and he loved her for it. He knew, as did she, that they would continue this path, slaughtering and gaining even more power, until at last they reached Palladia herself. And then, oh, what transcendent pleasures her would defeat bring...

* * *

Jason awoke with a start, jumping awkwardly to his feet and yelping "No! No! No! Fuck NO!"

It was only after he had taken a few panicked steps before he realized, with great relief, that he was still in the armory. The room was as it was before, with its chests, battle gear, and Granny's sheathed sword leaning against the wall.

"Okay, Jason," he said aloud to himself, "calm your ass down. It was just a dream. A hella-fucked-up crazy-ass nightmare, but it's over. And you don't wanna look like a spaz in front of..."

A furtive glance around told him he was alone. The blonde woman had apparently decided to peace out while he slept. The only evidence of her having been there was on the sword, in the form of a big wad of ABC gum stuck to the sheath.

"Typical," Jason muttered. "They all say they swallow, but..."

Jason took a minute to shake off most of the post-nightmare jitters. Then he gathered up his clothes and finished doing what he'd started before, namely, dressing himself. While doing so, he realized he had another reminder of his tryst with the woman. He'd acquired several shallow scratches, all over his body. He must have gotten them during all the fucking; in the heat of the moment he hadn't noticed her clawing him up. Now, though, they stung whenever he moved, even moreso when he dragged his clothes over them.

"I hope Granny's got some bactine for this shit," Jason mumbled, after wincing for the dozenth time.

Low mutterings came from the other side of the door. He guessed it was Granny and Thumper, but erring on the side of caution, he carefully peered around the door.

His gaze was immediately met by a bright blue flash that left him momentarily dazzled. He blinked a few times, and chanced another look.

Granny stood alone in the barracks. While her clothes were either gone or in worse shape than they were before, she seemed to be completely healed of her injuries. In fact, she looked damned-near flawless: not a scratch on her, hair all filled in and looking salon-fresh, and she even had a well-rested glow to her. She seemed to be deep in thought, with her eyes closed and her wings folded tightly behind her back. Thumper, however, was nowhere to be seen, and that worried him.

"Calm your thoughts," Granny said suddenly. "Thumper lives on, though not on this world."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "Um, that's about what my mom told me when our dog Petey died," he said, "so I'm gonna have to ask you to be a wee more specific."

Granny now opened her eyes, fixing their pure blackness upon Jason. "I returned him to your world, once I was done with him," she said. Then, smiling, she added, "He remains mostly intact."

Jason sighed with relief. "I'll take it," he said. "I don't think he was ready for all this shit anyway. Hell, if I'm being honest, neither am I."

"You had best find some means of acclimating yourself, then," Granny said, "for we must be away."

"'Bout time!" Jason said. "I feel like if I spend another minute here, another one of your humans is gonna try and fuck me again."

Taking little heed of Jason, Granny threw the armory door open wide and brushed past him.

"What are you prattling about?" Granny said. She opened one of the chests and retrieved an assortment of leather garments.

"One of your horny, horny, humans," Jason said. "She jumped me while you were off skybanging Thumper."

"That seems unlikely," Granny said. "Even you should be more than a match for one of our birthing beasts." She assessed the gear she had chosen, and gave a satisfied nod to her selections.

"She was a beast alright," Jason said. "Scratched me all the hell up. Which was weird 'cause she was a tiny little thing. I mean her boobs were-"

Jason was brought up short by the sight of Granny lifting up the tattered remnants of her mesh top. For an instant, her gigantic breasts were hoisted high, their sheer size completely obscuring her face. Then the top was off, and Granny's boobs were free, bouncing back into place high on her ribcage. The motion caused them to jiggle enticingly against each other for a few seconds. Jason couldn't help but goggle at the sight.

"You were saying?" Granny said.

"I...uh...uh..." Jason stammered. He found it really hard to form words when his dick was suddenly throbbing so goddamned hard.

"That's what I thought," Granny said, with a knowing smirk.

She turned away from him, and bent over, ostensibly to pick up the skirt she'd chosen. But the way she did it, slowly, with just the right amount of arch in her back to make her ass cheeks plump deliciously, so ripe and succulent that Jason was overcome with urge to squeeze them hard and give them a healthy bite, spoke of more than simple utility.

She glanced briefly over her shoulder, and the look she shot him was definitely deliberate. It was only a second's glimpse, but in that second he saw challenge and contempt, promised pleasures and hidden dangers, and not a shred of innocence.

She stood up and, still facing away from him, took her sweet time pulling up the knee-length skirt, making certain that Jason got an eyeful of the leather sliding along her flesh.

After some adjusting, she cinched a fastener at the waist, picked up the halter she had chosen, and turned around. Jason was in a dumbstruck haze, practically drooling.

"Yes," Granny said, "I think we both prefer this, don't we?"

Fascinated, Jason watched her pull the vest on, slipping her arms through the holes, and hiding away most of her colossal tits.

"So compliant," Granny said. "Much less chatter."

The vest hung open loosely in the front, and Granny set about tightening the laces. She took her time, though, starting at the bottom, securing each pair of loops with practiced care, her eyes constantly on Jason's.

For his part, Jason's eyes were locked on Granny's expansive, but slowly disappearing cleavage. With each lace she tightened, Granny's crimson breasts were pressed together just a bit more. But even as the jiggling decreased, the cleavage on display became more pronounced, suggesting a nice deep titfucking. A cock-stroking between Granny's big, juicy funbags so satisfying, it might even make him forget about Pearl and Kristin altogether.

Despite having had his balls drained so recently by the blonde woman, Jason again felt an urgent need for release. He felt like he was boiling inside. And when he finally exploded, he wanted it to be all over Granny. Blasting all over her big crimson juggs, slopping hot, creamy jizz onto her regal face, and drenching her hair with a healthy dose of his own man-made conditioner. And he knew she wanted it, too. She deserved it, all right, and he was sure as fuck gonna give her every last gooey thrust she had coming-

Granny tightened the final lace, concealing the last inch of her exposed cleavage. And just like that, whatever spell Granny had over him was broken.

Jason looked up, and right into Granny's mocking eyes.

"Satisfied?" Granny said. "Or is there some other nonsense you would like to bring to my attention?"

Jason, as angry at Granny for manipulating him as he was at himself for being so easily manipulated, fumed.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" he shouted. "Why you gotta screw up my head like that?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Granny said, feigning innocence.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Jason said.

"If you are referring to your current engorged state," Granny said, with a glance downward at his prominent erection, "I take no blame for your frustration. It is only natural that you find my many charms enticing. I am irresistible, after all. Perhaps you'd like to relieve yourself of that pent-up energy?"

Jason was too mad to take the bait. "Get over yourself, lady!" he said. "I wouldn't fuck you with a ten-foot dick."

"Intriguing," Granny said, raising a suggestive eyebrow at him. Jason folded his arms defiantly in front of him, saying nothing. When it became clear to Granny that her game was over, her demeanor abruptly shifted back to its usual haughty state.

"Fine," Granny said, adding second later, "Brute."

She brushed past him then, almost knocking him down in the process, to retrieve Fuck-Bringer from where it stood propped against the wall.

"Repulsive," she said, eyeing the gum stuck to it, and then flicked it away with a finger. She hoisted the sword, thrust it into the scabbard on her back, and exited the armory in a huff.

"Oh, yeah," Jason muttered to himself, "this is gonna be a fun trip," and then followed Granny out of the armory.

In the barracks proper, Granny was busy over at the Naughty Chair. With a grunt, she lifted the body of the fried Spine up over her head. Jason very deliberately avoided looking at where the head used to be.

With almost careless nonchalance, Granny carried the body over to the window. Then she simply flung it through.

"Damn, Granny," Jason said. "Not even gonna say a few words?"

"For the disappointing battle she afforded?" Granny said. She sniffed. "Hardly worth the sentiment."

"Aren't you worried the Spines are gonna come back and be like, super mad?" Jason said.

"They most certainly shall return, eventually," Granny said. "But though there be none left to defend my Aerie, the Spines shall not take Fist-of-Dark."

"Why's that?" Jason said.

"You shall see," Granny said. "Observe."

Granny walked back over to the Naughty Chair. She brought out Fuck-Bringer, and leveled it at the Chair.

"Resto ta-kalak, kara pal, an-kin," Granny said. She touched the tip of the sword to the Chair and repeated, "An-kin."

The restraints on the Chair blazed back to life, glowing with that pink energy. Then, without her having to say it, the last words of her chant echoed throughout the room.

"An-kin...an-kin...an-kin..." The words grew incrementally louder each time, and with each repetition, the glow emanating from the Naughty Chair increased correspondingly.

"Excellent," Granny said, barely audible over the rising din. She replaced her sword in its scabbard, and then, dropping to one knee, spread her wings wide.

"Now, beast," Granny said, "you will mount me!"

"I already told you I wasn't gonna-"

"We must fly from here," Granny said, "and I shall carry you."

"Oh...yeah..." Jason said. "I knew what you meant."

"Hmmph," Granny said. "Make haste, savage. I assure you, this is far more humiliating for me than it could possibly be for you."

Jason rolled his eyes. He walked over to Granny, and straddled his legs around her waist. He wrapped his arms around her massive leather-covered bosom, and hugged real close to her back.

"Okay, I'm-" Jason said.

Granny took off with a whoosh that stole Jason's words away. Instinctively holding on for dear life, their exit from the Aerie was just a blur. It was only when Granny paused in mid-air a few seconds later that he was able to take in what was happening.

The glow from the Naughty Chair was expanding, and rapidly. There was now a big, bright pink bubble, emerging right through the stone, spreading outward and downward at an alarming rate. The expansion was accompanied by the echo of Granny's voice, repeating "An-kin...an-kin...," loud enough that Jason could feel the vibrations in his chest, even at this distance.

"You made a force field?" Jason said.

"Essentially, aye," Granny said. "I merely channeled the energies of the Aerie's own furnaces into the Naughty Chair, extending and amplifying its binding power."

"Now that's home defense," Jason said.

"Aye, for the time being," Granny said. "The spell is constructed such that none save myself possess the skill to dissolve the barrier. And the power needed to break it outright is beyond all but the Three themselves."

"Um, is that a concern?" Jason said.

Granny, significantly, didn't answer. The bubble continued to expand, until at last Granny's echoing chant died away. At that point, the entire Aerie was completely covered by the shimmering pink dome.

"Now we can be off," Granny said.

"'Bout time," Jason said. "How long until we catch up with the girls?"

Without a word, Granny leveled herself, going from upright to horizontal, picked a direction that seemed, to Jason's eyes, the same as every other direction, and got to flapping. Within a few wingbeats, she'd found her stride, and they were moving at an impressive clip. Jason looked back and watched, as the shimmering Aerie receded into the distance.

"I'm sure not gonna miss that place," Jason said.

That is because you are an ignorant savage, Granny sent, speaking into his mind. And while we are in flight, speak with your mind if you wish to be understood.

Duh. That made sense, now that Jason thought about it. It was a much better strategy than trying to shout over the wind rushing about them.

He kind of opened his mind up a little bit, like he'd done before with Pearl. But in doing so, he felt a strange sensation. He wasn't sure what it was at first, but the feeling gradually coalesced into something more concrete, until he was able to articulate what it was.

Hey Granny, Jason sent, There's like...a little radar in my head.

Radar? Granny sent, annoyed.

Like a direction finder thingy, Jason sent. It's picking up Pearl and Kristin, I think.

How nice for you, Granny sent. And?

Well, it feels like we're going the wrong way.

How interesting, Granny sent. Then, I would advise finding some other way to amuse yourself as we travel. It will be some time before we set down again.

Granny, Jason sent warningly. What aren't you telling me? Are we going away from them on purpose?

They are not our immediate objective, Granny sent.