Garden of Hellish Delights Ch. 10

...yeah... Sorry I've been so long between the last chapter and this one.

Here it is anyway, the concluding chapter of Garden of Hellish Delights. Questions get answered, twists get turned, and John gets his entire spunk reserves sucked out of him. Again.

If it's been a while, you may wish to read the previous chapter (or all of them, if you're really keen) to jog your memory, as this does just go right into it. There will be more creepy lady monsters to come, but in different series in different settings. This is very much the end of the road for the garden...

In his panic, John had passed out in a matter of seconds, his brain unable to process the raw fear of the fall. Because most of his encounters in the garden, no matter how potentially lethal, had been a battle of seduction, he hadn't really experienced the sheer terror of something like a drop from an unknown height.

When he awoke, he was lying in a pile of webbing, though this time the strands were piled into dense bedding rather than wrapped into a cocoon or an invisible trap.

Only John's head emerged – his body completely covered in the thick material.

Despite being deep underground, he was surprised to find a dim light was throwing some illumination on the area, and as he tried to find its source, he noticed thin streaks of light along the cave walls, like whitish veins leading from the outside world deeper into the underground caverns.

They even seemed to be pulsing – carrying the source of light away from the surface to the cave's dark depths.

As John tried pulling his arms from the webbing to push himself out, the silky material pressed against every inch of his body.

The more movement John made, the more the strange caress kept up, flowing around his sides and wrapping round his arms, and gliding along his thighs and against his crotch.

Seeing that he wasn't getting far enough to push himself out by his arms, John decided instead to swim out of the webbing.

Shifting his weight onto his front, he began doing his best breaststroke to guide himself towards the edge of the pile. The only problem with his strategy was that the change in position meant the uncannily smooth material was now gently yet snugly tugging at his cock.

With each stroke forward, John was stroked himself, in a full-body massage, while his member began responding more and more. Once fully erect, the velvety caresses became incredibly stimulating and he found himself having to stop periodically to catch his breath.

He was advancing ever closer to the edge but, just short of his last few strokes, his body instinctively shuddered as his member ejaculated into the webbing. It was unavoidable really – the last few metres had been a sheer effort to keep his mind focused on the task at hand.

Now he'd emptied his balls, the last bit of distance to cover felt like his genitals were being lightly tickled, rather than the intense stroking of the last couple of minutes.

With a final push, John was out, and he rolled down the side of the pile of accumulated webbing, shifting himself round to come to a landing on his feet.

Standing up, he dusted himself off and took a final look at the bizarre lump of white gossamer-like strands.

Too bad he wouldn't be able to carry any back home with him, he thought – if he found a way back of course. Stick a porn star in that stuff, shove some washing machines against the sides of the pile and you've got a dynamite porn flick.

Looking up, he noticed several lumps of the stuff suspended from yet more webbing – Lascivia had really had time to spread herself out in the pit, it seemed.

As John peered closer at the bundles, he realised they were man-sized... and seemed to be carrying writhing figures with a very human physique...

His body chilled and he decided not to stick around any longer.

Naked as the day he was born, he turned round to face seemingly the only tunnel forward, and continued his journey deeper into the cave.

****

The trek through the maze of tunnels in the cave seemed to drag on forever.

After what felt like hours of walking on the hard rock beneath his feet, the pulsing veins around him seemed to be growing more intense, and John could have sworn he felt the bass of a beating pulse.

As the tunnel opened up, an enormous cavern, full of rocks of varying heights, stretched out before him like a gigantic hall. Holes the size of tractors tunnelled into the ceiling.

The ground beneath his feet began rumbling, and a large blur shot out of one of the tunnels, landed on the floor and shot towards his position. Thinking on his feet, and to avoid being crushed, John clambered up a nearby rock face, reaching the top of the raised platform just in time for the blur to rush past him.

As it slowed, he saw it was a demon. A very feminine demon...

She was enormous. Her torso was human in appearance – only far too perfect to be mortal. She possessed smooth, creamy skin that shone with polished brilliance and betrayed not a single pock mark or blemish.

Her face projected an aura of beauty at once fresh, young and virginal, but also hinting at dark, seductive intent. It looked to John as if a deeply sexualised Barbie doll's face had come to life, only this Barbie was now surveying him with what looked like hunger in her bright blue eyes, as she licked a sleek pair of shiny purple lips.

Her face was framed by long luxuriant golden curls that reflected what little light filled the cavern so brilliantly, her locks almost became a dazzling beacon.

Below her waist, there lay a much different story. Her entire body segued into one long, smooth green organ, in a tube of flesh resembling like a gargantuan, bloated snake.

Lumps shifted and flowed through the bulbous form, which stretched far into the distance and became a complex maze of writhing coils that spread throughout the cavern.

While the tip of the tail end was nowhere to be seen, the joint with the more human aspects of the demon were marked by a bright pink maw where the creature's crotch would have been.

The orifice, which opened and closed as if hoping to swallow any nearby morsel of food, was distinct from the surrounding tissue not just by virtue of its bright cerise sheen, but by the slick juices dribbling out of it.

Its desperate gulping motions were causing copious globs of thick, transparent ooze to spill onto the floor and collect in sticky puddles.

To be honest, much of this was inevitably lost on John, as his eyes were having difficulty getting beyond her chest. Seeing as how her torso was John's entire height, her breasts – which were large even in relation to her own body – must have been the size of beanbag chairs.

As she brought her body upright, they swayed like pendulums with the motion of her chest.

"Mmm, what have we here? A mortal intruding into a lilim's domain?" she said silkily, as her eyes burrowed into his.

John focused on her mouth as he answered – about the one place where he felt he wouldn't lose his concentration.

"We... we have one seriously confused a-and angry bastard!" he shouted nervously.

"Oh, dear... Confused? We can't be having that. Come here, and let me put your mind at ease..."

She reached out with arms that, while slender in relation to her leviathan-esque body, were the length and width of small tree trunks.

As they hurtled towards John, he dived out of the way and rolled to the side, before sprightly rolling forward and picking himself up again.

"Move aside, or I'll... I'll be forced to defend myself!" he threatened.

The absurdity of the situation only seemed to entertain the lilim, who let out an amused giggle into the back of her hand.

"Oh, come. You really think you can hurt me?" she said.

"I can try!" he retorted.

"Is there really any need to?" she asked.

"Don't you wonder what my skin feels like? What... these feel like?"

She cupped a hand round one of her bulbous breasts to emphasise the point, its flesh gently quivering as she did so. As if waking up to her touch, a hole appeared on the nipple, which began to open outwards and pucker up like a pair of lips, before making lewd sucking movements.

"I can show you, if you like..."

John grimaced and hardened his resolve.

"Last... warning... Stand aside..."

The lilim sighed wearily.

"You know, you're far too aggressive for my liking. We need to calm you down."

She pressed one of her elegant palms to the ground, and a thick pink mist diffused outwards, covering the floor of the cavern in a thick coating of fog.

John backed away to escape the approaching mist, but found it had circled around him and was closing in.

As it got close enough to settle around his ankles, he felt it lightly stroke over his exposed skin. The mist had no tangible substance to it, but nevertheless, he found the hairs of his ankles and shins start to stand on end as the skin beneath them tingled.

It wasn't an unpleasant sensation by any means, and John almost felt inclined to stand still and let the tingling caress of the vapours continue.

As the mist finished coating the entire floor however, thick strands split off and separated themselves from the mass.

Elegantly coiling upwards, they took on new shapes and forms, filling outwards. Gently arcing through the air, the mist shaped into human-esque bodies, as wispy tendrils developed arms and legs.

A soft giggling filled the air around John, disjointed as if from several hundred different sources at once. As the forms grew more coherent, curvaceous, womanly figures coalesced in the surrounding mist.

Slender and elegant, the beautiful creatures trailed manes of vapours while their forms seemed designed to entice the man they had surrounded.

The mist-like women began to move in a slow and graceful dance around him, leaving echoes of distant mirth as they did so.

With tantalising slowness, they pirouetted and glided around John, each time closing in almost imperceptibly.

He was getting lost in the motion, but he'd learned his lesson from his earlier encounter and shook his head to clear himself.

He took a step forward and tried to make his way through the bodies of dancing girls, but with each step, slender arms reached out against him and brushed past his flesh.

Whispers flickered through the air and tickled his ears.

"Stay with us..."

Each time the ethereal shapes touched him, a soft and sensual tingle spread along his skin, making it grow lethargic and hard to move his limbs.

What began as a frantic rush through the ghostly forms became a slow struggle, as their potency of their touches accumulated.

Despite their bodies offering no resistance on impact, John found trying to move his body as if trying to wade upstream through a river.

Some of the shapes were brushing themselves against his crotch, making his member quiver excitedly at their touch.

In one final act of desperation, he flailed in a circular motion with his arm, cutting a clean circle through the enticing spectral forms.

Their forms slowly drifted apart with a sigh, floating apart like smoke carried on a breeze.

John's lunge had caused a small circle to open up, affording him space to manoeuvre. More importantly though, there was a ledge contained in this opening.

After ambling towards it as he prayed his limbs would awaken, John reached the edge and hauled himself up. Looking down, he saw his raised height now cleared him from the grasp of the seductive phantoms below, who had already closed the gap he had created.

Shaking his body back to life, John tried to refocus on the lilim. He scouted the nearby area, but to no avail – while her coils were still in view, it was hopeless trying to trace the mass of loops and folds back to either end of her body.

As his eyes shifted over the horizon, a panicked thought filled his head. He slowly turned round to find his fears confirmed as the head of the monstrous beauty came into view, level with his body and less than ten feet away.

Pursing a slick and juicy pair of ruby-red lips, she gently blew a warm, perfumed breeze across his body, which flowed over his exposed flesh, sapping his limbs of strength.

As he giddily tried to turn round again to flee, she blew a kiss in his direction, mimed with a wave of her hand.

As her hand left her lips, a rapid succession of wet popping sounds heralded a string of pink, heart-shaped bubbles, which made a swift beeline for John's exposed torso.

Before he could react, two of the bubbles had reached his crotch – one slipping neatly over his shaft, the other enveloping his balls.

A kneading, massaging motion was sliding up and down his cock in time to the beat of the heart-shaped spell covering it, while every expansion of its counterpart below caused a wave of relaxation to ripple through his body, shortly before a contraction pulled that wave back down again, to centre on his scrotum.

Seconds later, a third bubble had wrapped itself round his head, and his entire world turned into a soft-focus pink haze.

John's cock had become stiff at the attention it was receiving, while his testicles felt like they were expanding inside a warm tub of melted butter.

Explicit, sexually-charged images began dazzling his eyes, and at once John received visions of every beauty he'd ever yearned for, every woman he'd thought about taming.

They floated past his vision as the spell plucked deep desires – some he didn't even realise he'd had – from the furthest recesses of his mind.

As the illusory presence of his first babysitter – appearing naked and sighing in bliss – swam past his line of sight, the delightful suction of his member increased in intensity and a hot wave flew along his shaft as he emptied his balls into the heart-shaped spell.

Now it was the turn of the pink heart at his scrotum to double its efforts, its relentless massaging gripping his entire body tightly, as if squeezing his tension into his genitals, coaxing them to produce yet more and more sperm, and bulge against the sack that held them.

The third level enchantress who'd taught him some of the basics of magic, and who he'd harboured a deep crush on for many years, was now gyrating in front of him, her instantly recognisable robes, for the first time, nowhere to be seen.

The insidious suckling at his member merged with the fantasy visualising itself before him, and he emptied another load into the magicks that had ensnared him.

Caught in the rush of pleasure the pornographic onslaught brought him, John failed to notice his feet leave the floor beneath him.

By the time an orgy of porn stars of his mind's own creation began pleasuring him, John had also failed to notice he was drifting straight into the path of the lilim's open palm...

With an amused giggle, the creature wrapped her slender fingers around John's torso, leaving his waist and head exposed.

Holding him close to her lips, she blew across his body, and all three bubbles burst with a wet smack.

John snapped back to his senses with a sickening swiftness, his stupefied reaction prompting more amused titters from his captor.

"Did you enjoy my spell, little one?"

"G-get off me, I'm not your plaything, you evil bi-"

"Hush, little one. Such strong language from such a pretty young morsel."

John snorted. She barely looked older than him, but given his experiences so far, he wouldn't be surprised if she dated back to the beginning of time itself.

He strained at the fingers confining him, but found his arms only sank further into the digits' flesh.

"That won't do you any good," laughed the lilim.

"You're supposed to be a warlock, are you not? Why aren't you using a verbal spell to escape? Why encroach on my lair, unarmed, and do nothing to defend yourself, when you could send a thousand fireballs flying from your fists?"

John stopped struggling for a moment to consider this.

"Because... because ever since I arrived here, it's like I haven't been able to think properly. Like something's been affecting my mind..."

The lilim laughed.

"Oh yes, your mortal mind will be affected by this place alright. But not your ability to use magic...

"...if indeed you have any. Go ahead. Use one simple spell. I promise I won't harm you or retaliate. If I wanted to, you would be crushed by now."

John paused and pondered which spell would prise her leviathan fingers off him.

And paused...

And paused...

He started to grow aware that he should have already reached his decision, when the lilim spoke once more.

"You can't, can you? You don't even know a single spell."

"I... I don't understand," he protested.

"I've been practising magic all my life... right up until... until..."

"Until you came here?" she offered.

"Yes. Why... why can't I remember my spells?"

The lilim leaned down and pressed her cheek against his face, whispering in his ear.

"Because, my dear, you're not a warlock..."

John's blood seemed to stop pumping round his body and freeze in place.

"You're not a warlock. You're not a magic user of any kind. You're a regular, run-of-the-mill pleb."

"N-no, that's not possible," John laughed nervously.

"I've been studying the arts for years..."

"No, you haven't," came the simple reply.

John was growing confused, worried and above all, starting to grow angry by the mysterious rhetoric.

"Explain yourself. If I haven't been doing this my entire life, what have I been doing?" he demanded.

The lilim sighed and looked at him with what seemed to be pity.

"I think," she said, "it would be easier if I just showed you."

Before he could protest, she pursed her lips and pressed them to his face. So large were the cherry-red pair, that John's entire head began to slip inside them as she sucked.

With his head snugly and firmly secured between them, the slick pulling sensation grew stronger, and John began to feel his consciousness slipping away, swallowed as it was down the lilim's mouth.

***

When light returned to John's eyes, he found himself back where his entire journey had so disastrously begun. The Nag's Head.

The pub where he had so recklessly cast his teleportation spell in a toilet cubicle.

Was he out?

No. Something was wrong here. Something was very wrong. There was an unreal warmth floating through the building and the sound felt muted and distant, as if underwater.

What should have been deafening banter was reduced to quiet, rumbling echoes. Then there were the patrons. As he turned to look at their faces, he saw nothing but a hazy blur, as if God himself had got careless and smudged the finer features of his own creations with his thumb.

Only Alf the landlord and his barmaid Suzy were in sharp focus as they wandered behind the counter top, scooping up finished pint glasses and running a dishcloth through washed ones.

"Alf? Alf? What's going on?" he called out to him.

"He can't hear you," a familiar voice said from behind him.

John turned to meet its source. A column of pink mist was floating behind him, its eddies caught in a perpetual rising motion.

Towards the upper half, John fancied he could make out womanly features through the column and, as his eyes reached the top, he saw, for a split second, the face of the lilim.

Whenever he tried to focus on a single part of her anatomy however, it became lost in the smoke surrounding it, only to reappear later, in the corner of his eye.

"He can't hear you, because neither of us are really here," she explained.

"This is a memory. Your memory to be precise."

John looked round the room once more and found himself nursing a pint, sitting on his own in the corner, wearing the exact same clothes he'd lost to the garden, after his first encounter with the lust bugs.

The double of his past self pulled out a mobile phone and peered at the screen. John leaned over for a look and nodded to himself.