Leveling Up Ch. 57-62

The elevator door chimes and a crowd of eight or so devils rush in. Clawed hands grab each of my arms and legs and also my head, each set belonging to different infernal beast as I'm hauled down a long tunnel. While we walk, claws slash at my clothing until I'm left entirely naked. After going through a set of double doors, my body is violently thrown and crumbles against the dark concrete floor in a corner. Devils operating a powerful hose blast me with water and I raise my arms and hands to try to block the high pressure stream but fail, slip on the ground, and fall and hit my head on the concrete causing it to bleed. The large number of devils in the room all burst into laughter.

Several devils grab me and drag me towards a large industrial fan which thunders on suddenly blowing air over my body. After this, I'm lead out of the room and slammed down into a coarse and cold metal chair in front of a large metal desk. The computer chair swivels, creaks, and scrapes against the ground and a devil clothed in an elaborate red, white, and black robe smirks at my nude body. "This is CR24-399, Case of Theodore Tagliacozzi," he announces.

"I'm fucking naked!" I scream, flare my nostrils, cord my neck, and lewdly shake my limp penis at him.

"Shut the fuck up!" the robed devil screams through his frothing mouth, chords his neck, narrows his eyes, grabs a black gavel with a pentagram carved in its side, and furiously bangs it against his desk.

A devil approaches me with something in his hands. He pulls it taught and I see its a whip. My eyes slam shut and teeth clench as I hear the sharp crack and my bare back seethes in pain.

"Don't you dare ever speak out of turn again, profligate!" the devil judge scolds as he shakes his gavel at me before smirking. "This is not a mortal courtroom. Nonsense that goes on in your debauched people's courts of injustice won't be tolerated here. You speak out again and do know this court does apply capitol punishment as a remedy for contempt of court. It happens more often than you think, Theodore."

The large crowd of devils assembled in the room behind me snicker and chuckle.

"So, how do you plead, guilty, or not guilty?" the judge asks, leans forward, smiles knowingly, and wets his lips.

I blink, swallow, and tilt my head. "Plead g-guilty... to what?" I ask as I scratch my chin.

The devil judge chuckles. "You've been indicted, Theodore!" he says in a booming deep voice with a grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye. "The mortal realm. What you call Earth. Just like Perditus proper. Demons aren't allowed. Unless of course they're slaves and properly registered as property. Also, magic and demonic power. It's all very illegal. Here in the mortal world. Just because you're a human. It changes nothing. You used demonic power in public. The secrecy of our operations here. It's compromised now."

My eyes narrow and hands ball into fists. "How am I supposed to know any of this shit!?" I object in a raised voice. "Look, I'm just trying to find my wife, ok? This demonic power we seem to have. It was acquired accidentally. And we'd both be very willing to give it all up. It all started back when..."

"Enough!" the devil judge yells and slams his gavel down repeatedly banging it against the desk causing it to loudly bang. "This is not a trial. Guilty or not guilty!"

Well, he just said that he likes to execute people who are in contempt of court. Better not go with the first option. "Not guilty!" I yell, puff out my chest, and bare my teeth at him.

The robed devil chuckles, cracks his knuckles, smirks, and continues, "Bail to be determined by the outcome of trial by combat. Get this fucking reprobate out of my courtroom!" The gavel slams down hard with a loud bang.

"Wait, what!?" I object loudly. Multiple sets of clawed hands grab both of my arms and I'm lifted up and over to the judge's desk before my naked torso is slammed down hard against it. A clicking noise sounds and I turn and see my hands behind my back bound in boxy black handcuffs with a blinking red light. Like the FBI had used on Thalsyn.

I'm brought further into the tunnels to a room where a single devil awaits next to an ornate chest and wood carved chair. The first female one I've seen. She wears a purple robe of which her large voluptuous breasts hang out of. Even naked, bloodied, bruised, and handcuffed, my eyes immediately draw to the jiggling flesh of her crimson skinned chest. I'm plopped down into the chair and the woman bends over and using a comb begins styling my hair. As she does so, her jiggling cleavage presses right up near my face. My cock throbs and quickly hardens. She pulls away, notices, grins widely, twinkles her eyes, and giggles.

I blush and my stomach knots.

The chest creaks open and she retrieves a white cotton undergarment. With clawed hands, she pulls the underwear up and over my legs and eventually covers my swollen cock. "Ok stud, raise your arms up for me," she requests in a deep flirty voice.

I swallow, look around the dark, mostly concrete room, and do as she says.

A hard, heavy metal object slides over my arms until resting on my shoulders. My eyes stare, blink, and my mind realizes its... a bronze armor breastplate with a long skirted bottom? What the fuck? She then takes my arms and suits me in brass gauntlets followed by my legs in golden cuisses. A scarlet covered cape is wrapped around my neck and the cleavage of her fat breasts again jiggles right in front of my face. The tip of my hard penis presses up against the cold hard brass of the armor I wear through the cloth undergarment. At least no one can see I have a boner this time.

The female devil smiles at me, traces the claw of her right pointer finger down her neck until it arrives at the top of her exposed cleavage, leans towards me, kisses my left cheek, rubs her spade tipped tail against my right leg, and whispers into my ear, "Good luck stud. If you're the champion, look for me in the lounge bar later. Never seen a mortal who was so... big." She winks, squeezes my right bicep with her clawed hand, places a brass Corinthian helmet over my head with a mohawk-esque crest of crimson dyed horse hair, and steps away.

Clawed hands grab my arms again and I'm hauled down yet another dark tunnel. As we proceed, a distant din is barely audible but with every step forward it becomes louder and more boisterous. We approach the end of the wide tunnel and there are two very large closed doors. The noise at this point is clamorous. There is clearly some sort of large crowd assembled in the next room.

A whir sounds before a buzz as the large doors creek and slowly begin to open via a mechanical process. Something clicks behind me and I feel my wrists free from the boxy handcuffs. Several sets of claws push against my back moving me forward. Slowly, I plod ahead towards the opening set of doors.

The din grows even louder and I enter what is essentially a subterranean arena encircling a stage bordered by a tall and wide circular shaped cage while a cube shaped video screen above broadcasts closeup pictures of the ring. The stands surrounding the center stage are filled with a mixture of devils and humans. Devil bookies in bright colored suits traverse amongst the crowd taking bets while the audience drinks various iterations of booze, laughs loudly, smokes cigars and yells at each other. The entire arena is filled with smoke and smells acrid and foul as one might expect. As I stumble ahead I see a group of devils and people in designer business suits snort lines of cocaine together off the railing in front of their seats. "Fuckkk!" one of them screams as his nose wiggles. Nearby a human woman dressed in an immodest outfit revealing much of her huge flopping tits gives a clothed lapdance to a hulking male devil sipping whiskey.

I walk towards the stage down the hallway and approach a male devil wearing a baseball cap. My eyes draw towards his hip where a holstered handgun rests. He gestures towards a table next to him.

A machete and a small bronze shield. They want me to fight someone with these? I pick up the machete and remember how Remy tricked me. I slice the surface of the tip of my left pinky and draw blood. It's sharp. My left hand grabs the shield and I swallow hard before slowly moving forward.

A strange echoing buzz sound emits from the dark and smoke-filled arena. "You're all in for a treat today!" a deep voice thunders out the loudspeakers mounted on the ceiling above the caged stage. "Instead of the devil fugitive and criminal thief Malzor, our fight tonight will feature a mortal capable of demonic strength and power." The video screen shifts away from live cameras facing the ring and plays recent viral video clips featuring me fighting Troy Daniels and Jason Colter. "He cuckolded Troy Davis, an NFL lineman and patron of this venue, and left him a bloody mess. Not only this, he humiliated action star Jason Colter when he rendered the black belt champion unconscious in an upscale steak house in Beverly Hills. They call him Mr. T!"

The crowd loudly boos with disapproval. "A mortal, are you fucking joking!?" a heckler's loud voice screams from the stands. "That's not the real Mr. T!" another one hollers while slurring his words.

The door to the caged stage swings open and I walk inside. A devil dressed in a suit rushes behind me to shut the door from the outside and lock it behind me.

What bullshit is this? Why am I being booed? Am I the heel or something? Loudly I roar at the crowd and slam the blade of my machete against the brass shield in my left hand causing it to clang. "Fuck!" I scream as loud as I can. A mild cheer erupts from the mostly distracted, hedonistic crowd.

The odd buzz sounds again and the loudspeaker continues, "Our opponent tonight made quite the scene. The way he tore up Central City. The FBI itself intervened and arrested him. But as our treaty requires, he was promptly extradited to here, Hell's embassy in North America. An incubus from the outer realms, degenerate scumbag, and altogether piece of shit, Thalsyn the Gh'ulzor!"

The crowd boos loudly, much more so than when I entered the arena. Clearly these sorts don't like me but at the same time they really hate demons like Thalsyn. Maybe I'm not the baby face but he is definitely the heel. As the boos die, a new chant grows in volume repeating, "Gh'ulzor! Gh'ulzor! Gh'ulzor."

Thalsyn emerges from his hallway dressed the same as me and also holding a bronze shield and machete in his clawed hands. As the audience antagonizes him, he repeatedly looks up at them, spits on the ground, snarls, and raises the middle finger of his clawed hand. He limps slightly on his right leg. Special Agent Boulder blowing out his right knee. It's still kind of fucked.

The cage door on the other side of the ring creeks open and Thalsyn enters. He sighs, quickly shakes his head, and looks up at me. His eyes bulge, jaw drops and feet take a step backwards. Standing steady, he stares, puffs out his chest, and a smile slowly builds on his face. He begins to clang the machete repeatedly against his brass hand-held shield. "Where's your slut wife, faggot?" he mocks.

"Hopefully getting fucked by some other guy so I can get good and powered up and barbecue your ass like I almost did last time," I threaten, scowl, widen my stance, and bare my teeth.

"I think I might have seen her when they brought me down here just a little while ago," Thalsyn claims as he stretches out his arms, legs, and wings. "Can you believe those uptight bastards at the FBI didn't even honor my right to see my attorney? I can't think of anytime my dicks been dry for this long. When I am done chopping you into taco filling, I'm going to find your nasty wife here and fuck her again. Her pussy felt so good the last time I cucked you and I haven't been laid in so long. The load I'll leave in her. It's going to be massive."

I rush Thalsyn, swing the machete, strike his shield with a loud resonate clang, he pushes my arm to the side, and shield bashes my face.

I fall, clunk against the ground, blink, see his clawed machete wielding hand swing, roll quickly, and hear it clang loudly against the concrete floor.

I jump up and step backwards askew. That jacked up knee of his. I'll pretend to go for the neck with the machete and kick him as hard as I can in his fucked up joint. I rush, swing at his neck, kick intensely, miss his leg because he jumps, uses his wings to hover, and he slices a deep cut in my right shoulder drawing blood which spills on to the arena floor.

My eyes glass, body winces, and I release a gnarled grunt before stumbling backwards. The intemperate crowd cheers excitedly at the sight of my blood spilling.

Thalsyn's wings flap as he hovers above me. "How did you end up here again?" he asks before a knowing grin spreads over his face and his chin raises up. "Oh yeah, you used your demonic power for stupid self promotion. Fighting an NFL lineman and an action star at a buffet. Getting into the tabloids. Pretending you're not some cucked loser teacher from a city no one gives a shit about. There's a reason most people don't believe in devils and demons. Because all of this shit operates in secret. But you couldn't help but exploit the power you stole from my clan. From Lohrnihr. All to boost your own trashy reputation!"

He mourns his relative. Maybe I can reason with him. "You've got it all wrong!" I yell at him. "Lohrnihr possessed me briefly and showed me what happened. I know he was betrayed by Nemara and Asmolt on his wedding day. They humiliated him, cursed him, and electrocuted him. I'm not the enemy you make me out to be, Thalsyn! There has to be some way to free Lohrnihr from my wife and I!"

Thalsyn hovers in place, hesitates, swallows, and presses his lips together into a grimace. His body quakes, eyes water, chin quivers, and he presses his palms firmly against his cheeks. "Bullshit!" he finally screams. "Y-you're lying! There's only one way I'll ever get Lohrnihr back and its killing you!" Thalsyn screams, dives at me, chucks his machete which I block with my shield causing it to clang before falling backwards with another sharp clang followed by repeated clinks. As he dives now though, his clawed hand is free and he slices four of his claws into my already bleeding right shoulder.

I cry out in pain, bash my shield into his breastplate with a loud clang and cause him to stumble back. My left hand grabs at my right shoulder and when I look at my palm its covered in blood. The air reeks of iron and fills with the cheers of the drunken, drug addled, and debauched arena audience.

My breathing labors and right shoulder sears, blood runs down my arm, drips on to the concrete and my legs stumble backwards. That knee. Fuck the machete. If I bash it with the shield. Maybe I can shatter his leg.

Thalsyn retrieves his machete from the floor. "You could just surrender and let me kill you," he offers cruelly. "It'd save you all the pain of bleeding out slowly. He flies forward and slices, I dodge rapidly, the blade of the machete slams against the metal bars of the circular cage with a sharp scraping noise. He spins quickly and swings at me again and I block with the shield. The blow is powerful, resonantly clangs, and the shield vibrates causing me to shiver and step backwards.

"Fuck you, faggot!" Thalsyn yells, lunges, I dive with my shield aimed straight at his fucked up knee, his wings flap, he dodges, and as I crash against the ground I feel the blade of his long machete slice off a chunk of my neck. Blood pours from my shoulder and neck. I try to stand up but feel light headed. My vision fades in and out. The crowd roars in excitement.

59. The Ruby Red Lounge - Ritual Dungeon Room - Hollywood

The glowing amber lights in the room are dim rendering the mostly empty space dark. A red and black checkered marble tile floor surrounds a center square of all black tiles. My vulnerable wife, stripped naked and bearing all that was promised to me in our marital union, bends forward at the center of the black tiled square and in the middle of a pentagram that appears to have been painted in blood. Bound and restrained in a black T-shaped pillory, her ass hangs out the back, raised just so that with the borrowed black stilettos he suggested she wear, my wife's back was perfectly positioned so that any man located behind her could easily slip his penis inside of her ass or vagina and enjoy all the benefits her warm body could provide. Her narrow waist fit through a tight hole in the center of the infernal restraint post which bound her arms backwards behind her through two additional holes so that her palms also popped out from the back of the top of the T where they gripped a metal bar above her spread legs. Cool air lingers on her exposed erect nipples rendering them erect and sensitive.

A door opens behind Wendy followed by the sound of feet stepping on marble. A rich cinnamon tinged smell reminiscent of Middle Eastern cooking wafts into her nostrils and grows ever stronger as the foot steps sound closer. As he steps around the side of the pillory, Al comes into view dressed in glasses, a blue bathrobe, and dress shoes. He holds in his hand a thurible which ejects the strong smelling mist and fragrance. As it dangles in front of my restrained wife's naked torso, her pussy starts to throb and she feels moisture seep out of her vagina and down her thighs leaving them damp and cool.

Al chuckles before stepping out of view. "Often when I do this with women, they get scared and nervous," he explains from behind my wife near her bound, risen, and easily accessible soaking pussy and puckered asshole. "This is the perfect blend. Ingredients fresh from Perditus. It helps females relax and accept their inevitable insemination. Also, we do a lot of rituals here. The smell can get a bit funky. I'm sure you can imagine."

She feels one of his rough hands grope at her right buttcheek. "Given your little predicament, I doubt we're going to have much of a problem!" he taunts before chortling. A distinctive soft clatter sounds consistent with a bathrobe dropping against tiled marble. "To concentrate on the spell, I'm going to drop the illusion I've been projecting, ok?" Al asks.

"Illusion?" my wife asks as she feels Al's hard penis press inside of her wet and extravasting vagina.

It pushes deeper inside of her and it feels large and girthy like mine. Maybe even bigger given how tall and muscular Al is.

Wendy gasps before releasing a deep moan. Her body shivers, lips part, and eyes close. "Fuck," she mutters and enjoys the feeling of yet another man's swollen cock inside of her throbbing hole.

Al grunts loudly before he thrusts again before repeating. His fat penis slams in and out of my wife's pussy as he pounds away at her helpless, bound and lifted ass. With every push inside of her, Wendy's fat tits bounce lewdly underneath the long horizontal top of the pillory. "That feels great, doll," he praises before releasing a moan.

Wendy, eyes still tightly closed, gasps as she feels his large prick pump in and out of her followed by his right hand groping at her own jiggling right breast as it reaches around the black pillory. A moan escapes out her parted lips as her erect right nipple is squeezed. The hair on the back of her neck stands at attention. Something is... wrong. Her eyelids jet upwards as her eyes laser focus on her right breast. It is not a man's hand but one with red skin and sharp long black claws instead of fingernails. The gaudy jewelry and gold watch leave no doubt however that its still Al fucking her.

Wendy's body grows pale and shaky, skin glistens with cold sweat, chin trembles, and legs feel week. "A-are y-you... a demon?" my wife inquires as the muscular, clawed, bespectacled man laughs and plunders her wet married pussy with his engorged penis.