He Lies in Wait

Like locusts, they swept over her and took until there was nothing left, and they did it with such speed only confusion was left behind. In Elenore's case, when they ran cackling back into the cracks, crevices and gaps of the room, they left bemusement and a panting, fluid-soaked human woman, freshly violated and ripe for her next brutal fucking.

Murtocke mounted the altar, lovingly smeare d her in his tiny brothers' seed, and shoved the full, impossible length and girth of himself all the way into her average human snatch.

The bewildered, needy, disgusted, ashamed and aroused Elenore howled bloody murder, feeling her cunt actually split. The unbearable agony of it nearly stopping her heart. This was always the worst part, and it never got easier. She keened piteously until the black magic in the demon's spit and seed healed the unbearable wound, reforming her flesh to fit him. It was such release when she healed, and a rush like nothing else. Afterward, her body was able to take him completely, no matter how viciously he pounded her.

She was going to need it.

Murtocke did not hold back. One of the more mammoth of his kind, his male endowments were frighteningly large, and only the most innately perverse, lustful, unspeakably tormented humans attracted his notice, and therefore, were able to take his cock and sate his appetites. The organ was nearly two feet in length, thick as a body builder's arm, the head like a grapefruit in size and heft. It was the color of a bruise and flared when unsheathed by his foreskin, and he slammed this unearthly thing deep into his victim's cunt.

Elenore screamed loud and high, spine nearly snapping with how much she bowed herself upward. A club had been forced inside her, twenty inches of length and probably about that in girth, all in a hole that could naturally fit less than half that! Forget touching her cervix, he was tapping her diaphragm! It was only his forced and magic that her body remade itself to take the unhallowed lance of this beast's genitals. He slammed her without restraint, and the woman frothed at the mouth, thrashing beneath him.

So much demon-seed filled her pussy already, and the night had only begun.

Flesh stretched nearly to bursting again as he fucked, driving the spike of his cock impossibly deeper and deeper; tearing her apart and healing her, torturing her and pleasuring her far beyond mortal kenning. Elenore wept. How could this feel so good? How could being a demon's whore and plaything bring her such profound satisfaction in pain and extreme use...?

Whatever she was- some kind of lodestone for 'darkness', or something- there had to be a reason none of this was truly horrifying to her.

It was as natural as breathing.

Her tormentor, Murtocke, kept pistoning in her cunt as he lifted her lower half off the slippery obsidian slab, eager to add to the spill that lay glistening beneath them on the slick stone surface. The altar was a place for blood, sweat, saliva, piss, pussy-juice and semen, and each drop of the fluids they shed was an important offering. The energy and power of these liquids sealed a promise into the rock, a symbiotic pact between the human and her personal demon. That's what he was. He only came for the precious few whose sexual twistedness demanded his attentions.

But, he rarely arrived alone. Otherwise, would it really be "depravity"?

Eyes began to glow against the dull fire surrounding them. The promise shed on black rock gave them all a pound of her flesh for eternity- this was part of the second summoning. None of his fellows had the sheer size he did, and her pussy would not rupture for them individually the way it always did for him. Still, they had claws. They had teeth. Some of their pricks were barbed, others knotted like an animal's, and others had skin like scales or sandpaper. They'd each cause their own damages and take her pleasure, give her excruciating orgasms, and devour her meat only to have it regenerate while they fucked her body to their climaxes.

They'd spill seed and blood and spit and urine in her, on her, down her throat.

Murtocke roared as he destroyed her cunt again with a fierce and unhinged stroke, and she screamed until her voice shattered. Sperm flooded her ruined body, healing the wounds, driving her mad with spasms of pleasure. He ejaculated magma that burned and delighted in equal parts, searing her walls with blistering heat that melted into electric tingles against her g-spot. Demon-cum was addictive, and engorged her vaginal tissues to painfully sensitive proportions. Her legs were limp as he thrust himself empty, huge testicles slapping against her ass-cheeks. The flood poured into her, overflowed, and spilled as his cock squelched in her twat.

So much semen. Easily a gallon or two, poured like molten metal into a mould. The rush of hot liquid breached her cervix and bathed her womb, crawled up her fallopian tubes and saturated her ovaries. How? That was fucking impossible. But both of them knew it was happening. He had the black magic of the underworld, and she could feel her entire inner reproductive system being completely filled. Once again swelling, uterus bloating with cum.

The eyes around the table manifested completely, their voices coming through in demented chorus. Murtocke's spunk gushed from her inhumanly stretched pussy, and he wasn't quite done with her yet. His climax was ebbing and the thick white river was slowing down, but he came to his knees and lifted her small, frail form up higher. His fellow demons waited and watched eagerly.

Elenore craned her neck, dazed, and wondered what the fuck he was going to do now that he'd stopped fucking her bestially. The answer came quickly after when he dug his nails into her thighs, split them painfully apart, and groaned in release as he began to drain a very different fluid into her well-used pussy.

The new presences surrounding the table went wild as she moaned, realizing that the tiny demons had done this too. Once they were done fucking her, they'd all relieved their bladders as well, unleashing their piss inside her holes, rendering her a sperm-dump and a toilet. Murtocke flushed her pussy of his come with his urine, heightening her twisted enjoyment by treating her as the vessel for his body's products that she was.

Elenore sniveled, and her tears struck the stone altar. It took so long, and the liquid just kept spraying down her channel. He held her legs upright so that it had nowhere to go but deep inside, and her abdomen swelled again with the influx of heavy, hot urine. She felt disgusting and bloated, a balloon stretched too thin and about to burst. Finally her body had taken too much, and it began to creep back up her passage to overflow all over Murtocke, her pelvis, torso, and the table.

The demons gave up a din of laughter, and their hands, cocks, tentacles, or tongues attacked her body all at once. Something crept into her asshole and began to gleefully fuck her there. Two cocks were shoved into her mouth- one that felt like snakeskin and had the same muscular flexibility, and the other cold and clammy to touch, but hard as steel. A foul musky taste filled her mouth as her throat was pounded relentlessly by both.

Her breasts were suckled, bitten, and molested, nails stabbed into the fatty tissues, her blood then licked up with relish. As Murtocke finished emptying his bladder in her body, no less than six fingers or somethings touched down and began stroking her clit again, making her shamefully peak as he drained the lizard of every drop.

When he finally finished, pulling out, Elenore's body collapsed onto the table and the rush of fluid let go, splashing everywhere and everything. The demons celebrated, spattered by their brother's unholy wet, eager to add their own into the sludge. Immediately the woman found herself flipped face-down into the layer of piss and cum, forced to breathe it in and reckon with it as her naked ass was lifted up gratuitously. Without hesitation she was breached, ass, pussy and mouth, and the mental/physical fucking began.

On the skin of her left ass cheek, she felt a hard scratch as a claw raked a line cleanly into the muscle. Murtocke leaving his tally. From there, the non-stop, insistent ravaging truly began.

Demons crammed her holes full of cocks- the way had been ploughed by their generous brother, and she was able to take so many at a time now. At least a dozen slipped into her pussy, knotting themselves together bodily in order to plunder the mortal's spasming sheath. Five had managed to cram themselves into her ass, even though Murtocke had not (literally) broken it in. Three or four were fucking her throat, and as fast as any of them came, forcing her to take her seed, they were replaced by others, and each left a wound behind on her buttocks, until there were dozens- then hundreds.

The shadow-imps reappeared and did their due work by leaving their impossibly small tally-marks on her tits, all fifty thousand of them. Their cocks had ejaculated into her too, after all. They'd bred her and pleasured her, and continued to do so now that their bigger brothers were making use of the delectable mortal's body.

The thumbling fiends attacked her nipples and clit again, using their teeth, tongues, claws, and cocks to push her once more over the precipice of orgasm, not letting up as the larger infernals pumped her orifices full of sperm and even more urine.

Elenore found herself embracing the oblivion of pain, perversion, climaxes and semen, swallowing everything they spurted into her mouth, rolling her hips back against each immortal, hell-spawned lover that slid a piece of himself into her body. She roared for more when a round was over, and they obliterated her again.

The tally eclipsed her ass and bled down the backs of her thighs. Even as the tiny fiends fucked themselves against her again, they added to the numbers, slashing down her belly to keep up with the count.

The wounds only hurt and bled at their giving, and then after glowed a crystallized crimson as the session kept going on.

The woman existed only as a vessel for debasement and pleasure, and one demonic beast after another was only too happy to oblige. After they'd all fucked her in a mind-breaking gang-bang, with as many dicks slammed inside her as possible at once, they switched it up- suspending her by chains in the ceiling so she could be fucked and the contents of her pussy left to splatter onto the stone below. For this, her legs were shackled upright in the air and her anus and vagina were both defenselessly exposed.

From there they took turns, watching and cheering each other on. Murtocke took her asshole for the first time as a favored friend of his ravaged her cunt simultaneously. The male demons pounded her ruthlessly and climaxed at the same time, leaving her howling as the seed sluiced out of her passages. A wolf-like demon knotted inside her snatch and rode her for forty-five minutes while a lamprey-like creature was set on her clitoris and left to suck her into several forced orgasms.

The second-largest male demon was shark-like, and his cock (while not as large as Murtocke's), was barbed and the skin rough. He put Elenore in an agony of sexual heat as he scraped her insides and forced his sperm into her clenching womb while she cursed aloud. Still another humiliating and rapturous torment was forced on her when a creature made entirely of tentacles ravished every one of her entrances at once, laying eggs in her orifices so that she was made to disgorge them hole by hole.

At one point, pain and quivers started in her belly, and the demon horde cackled as they realized what had happened. Elenore was engorged with their brood, and her stomach grew bigger and bigger as numerous pregnancies took root and gestated at mind-boggling speed, causing her to give birth to dozens of variously sized, fully-grown demons- male and female alike- one after the other. She shrieked herself hoarse as her own devil-children crawled from her vagina, keenly aware and ready to begin their lives as infernals. The females paused to rut with their seed-givers before vanishing into the underworld, and the males stayed to join their fathers and brothers to continue assaulting their pleasure-toy.

There was no end. It was Samhain, and her apartment was no longer on Earth, but had been dragged below ground into a pocket dimension where no daylight could reach them. For the entire weekend they were uninterrupted while the inhabitants of the underworld's nastiest bowels violated her- not just bodily. Their sexual games and foul torments had penetrated down to the very soul of her being and forever stained her essence with themselves.

Elenore was a demon's whore, and in turn a whore for thousands of unholy entities. No mortal could ever come close to what Murtocke the Depraved was to her.

By the time the 31st had ended, Elenore's mortal form and her ever-lasting spirit had been gang-banged, ravaged, fucked, besmirched, tortured, shredded, bitten, pierced, stroked, pleasured, and lovingly used by an incomprehensible number of demons.

One hundred thousand tallies were clawed onto her skin, for all the loads of cum she'd taken and the pricks she'd endured. Her breasts and belly were red and swollen, her ass and thighs stinging. Her pussy was on fire and her anus sore.

She'd drunk enough demonic fluids to sicken her, but desperately kept them inside her body. She was theirs. They were hers. When all this was gone, right down to the inhuman capacity of her cunt and the tally on her skin, she'd wish for their spunk and piss and claws to come back.

Oh, in her logical mind she knew all this was horrific and wrong, that she'd never been given a choice. All of these creatures had raped her profusely, but she'd never call it that. Not when she loved it so. Not when she craved it, needed it, longed for it when they were gone, until the next time the ritual must be performed.

Not when she loved him so.

Murtocke could only appear to the human when she needed him desperately. When her own depravity threatened to drown her real life and break her mind. That was when his power rose, and he was able to fulfill his purpose- giving her whatever sick desires lingered in her heart, and making her a whore for a demon.

Out of the few dozen mortals perverted enough to draw his attentions, Elenore was his most favored concubine. He greatly looked forward to the day she'd belong to him eternally, and he could satisfy all those twisted needs inside her that drew him forth in the first place. The three nights and two days they had been together this time were undoubtedly the happiest he'd ever been.

Elenore was gripping his hand so tightly while she warbled in rapture. Several of his kind were licking her battered quim delightedly, cleaning her flesh of spunk and worshipping her pussy with pleasure. The woman wept, unable to move, and she begged them to lick her there, to fill her ass, to make her come. She whimpered Murtocke's name and thanked them for destroying her.

The broken pieces of her mind had been jolted whole again.

When human and demon lay together, alone for the first time in so long, he held Elenore in his lap, against his chest and stomach. The bedraggled, depleted sacrifice shook against him, and he wrapped her in a blanket to chase away the chill. Murtocke also made her drink water and hot broth. Dawn would come soon, and with the sun he'd be banished back to Hell, everything returned to normal at her apartment, with no one the wiser.

He wailed sadly. Leaving her behind was always the worst part.

"Murtocke," she eventually mumbled, after the shaking had subsided. "Why am I this way? Why was it me to need these things, and bring you forth?"

He fell quiet for a few minutes, shifting her closer in order to cradle her fully. The action brought her head to rest on his shoulder, and she snuggled in.

"Chance," he began, "is a funny thing. It's almost that... you were randomly chosen to bear this role, but since you were chosen, this is your eternal fate. The constant dance of our symbiosis, ending only with your death, but ,i>never ending forevermore. You were born with a shard of darkness in your soul that cannot be removed, destroyed, purified, or ignored. It does need to be appeased now and then."

The woman stiffened. A tithe of blood, sex, and pain. That's what it took to keep the force (or essence) of darkness inside from stealing control.

Murtocke took her hand then, and laid it upon his chest.

"Your shard, Elenore, was broken from the piece of darkness that makes up my own soul."

Her heart flipped. The pair of them were bound together by destiny, and that was just their lot. At least they each had someone who understood. A modicum of strength returned to Elenore's legs, and she managed to support herself on them in order to reach his face.

"You didn't choose to be what you are, any more than I did," she remarked softly. He shook his great, grizzled head, and for a second she said nothing more as she stroked a caring palm along the length of his left horn. Murtocke stared up at her in wonder. Then, she looked at him seriously and said: "Each time you come to me, I think I can't possibly take being ruptured by you and conquered again. I think I can't really find it arousing or fulfilling to have my body ripped apart and violated... but I do." She fell on his neck, arms wrapped around the thick column, and rubbed her cheek against his hideous visage. "I should hate the way you humiliate and objectify me, and the way you give me to your brethren. I should want to tear my own hair out for what nightmarish shit you put me through- but I don't. I never have, even that first time."

Before he could reply, she kissed him. Deeply, sweetly, passionately, purely. A kiss of thanks and affection. Elenore looked into his eyes the entire time; they entwined their tongues and devoured each other. She ran her fingers through his mane and touched him everywhere, and he could tell just from her actions how she really felt.

Him being a denizen of Hell and one of the ghastliest creatures ever born there didn't put her off in the slightest.

She spread her legs for him once more as the night waned, and for the first time ever, they made love. She took him slowly, swallowing him inch by inch in her pussy more naturally, and her body stretched to receive his thick shaft without injury.

Murtocke thrusted gently, stroking her into the most tender orgasm he'd ever given a mortal in all his years, and he came in her when it broke. Afterward, they held each other tight.

Feeling an urge he could not ignore, fearing the light of day would interrupt him if he dallied, he leaned close to her ear. Something uncertain in his mind plagued him to say it, and the whim betrayed a secret insecurity in himself.

"This would stop happening to you if you simply found a way to fulfill these desires, Elenore. It is possible to reach similar heights in mortal ways." For all his talk of 'fate' and 'destiny', he knew free will had the power to change her eventual doom. She could find ways to appease the shard herself, and thus free her soul from his claim.

That, more than anything, he dreaded.

The exhausted woman panted, unable to so much as lift her head after their final bout. Still, she found a few hoarse words for him.

"But... I want you to come," she replied, croaking with the last ounce of strength she had. "No mortal man could ever give me what I need, what you give me... I love you, Murtocke."

His heart swelled. He drew her closer to his chest and kissed her simply.

"I adore you, my precious Elenore. I yearn for the nights we are reunited."