Ring of Fire

"Hi, Baby." My hand drifted down the Colombian track star's lean muscular body, as I pressed my lips to his ear. "Did you miss me?"

Roberto DeCosta was touching himself, that much was certain. I had been in his room before. One could say that I had a fetish-kink for watching my fellow patients sleep. I like to think I gave the beautiful nineteen-year-old all kinds of crazy dreams.

"Anna, is this a bad idea?" Sam Gunthrie's southern accent was so thick it sounded fake, like a f----- trying to not get raped in prison. It was why I considered him my gay best friend. (Although, I had a feeling he was just on the shy side. Maybe asexual? Who knows?)

"Don't be a pussy," I said, pressing my tongue to my teeth. 'You told me you were up for anything." I pulled my long ash-blonde hair back before removing the blankets. It was exactly what I expected to find. Decosta's powers rippled through his veins. He always kept a cool head, neutralizing himself with valium and morphine. That was why it took so long for anyone to witness his ability (he went all human torch when his beautiful caramel skin took control, transforming into a sensual controlled burn.)

I put my lips to his throbbing cock, licking the warm precum. "Just relax, BobbyD. I'm going to make you feel really nice."

I assumed the position; one hand on his shaft, milking him like a cow, while my other hand rested on his tight abs. I could feel the energy boiling under his skin.

"Anna, you sure this is safe?" Sam, like many, had never seen Roberto at full power.

"It's more than safe," I said with a smirk, my native soviet accent coming through.

"It's a high like nothing you've ever experienced." I took Bobby's sex organ down my throat, siphoning the raw intense power. The beautiful boy was moaning, whispering sweet words in his native tongue. I'd like to think he called me by his late girlfriend's name. I wanted to make him climax, fast and hard, and most importantly before getting caught. I knew Sam was my lookout, but there was always the possibility I'd not be able to control myself.

Roberto's body wanted to orgasm, to climax fire out of every pore. His eyes were closed, but he was gripping the silver mylar bed sheets.

With a finger and a whisper, I motioned for Sam to come closer. "It's almost time." With slow steady motions I spread his legs, letting my fingers caress his trembling thighs. I didn't need to go any further than that.

Roberto's cum was something inhuman. It gushed from his cock in thick ropes of shimmering light but his sweat and saliva was just as sweet. His body seemed to excrete pure energy.

Sam kissed Roberto's mouth, biting down on his friend's lower lip. After a few moments. the contact high was evident. Sam's eyes rolled back in his head. I was almost afraid he was going to pass out. "Woah."

"I know, right?" There was a crash from someplace outside the room.

Without a word, Sam ran off, disappearing in to the darkness of the hallway. I didn't bother to follow.

"The concept of peace was never an option," said a deep, sensual male voice. Although he was standing behind me, I knew full well who it was.

"Hey, Remedy." Remy Desilva was my mentor, my sponsor, whatever you want to call it.

He ran his fingers through his shoulder-length hair. "You're needed back in Hell, where you belong."

"Where I belong?" I laughed in his face with my usual confidence. "This is where I belong."

Remy walked around the bed. He stroked his fingers to Roberto's face. Each touch caused a path of crackling blisters. "Can I count on you to drag them to Hell? Or will I have to do it myself?"

"Drag them to hell?" I asked with a nervous chuckle. Roberto was convulsing. That meant Remy was prepared to kill.

"It'll be fun. We can have an orgy of all the delicious souls you've cut down in their prime."

I wanted to respond; I really did, but the feeling of his lips on my neck froze every muscle in place like a damn mannequin.

"What do you want to do to him?" Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Remy's legion; his demons just waiting to devour my body and soul.

"I want him on his knees." I bit the inside of my mouth. I needed to be more creative to get Remy alone. "No, I want to cut his throat while riding his cock, so I could take every last bit of his power."

"That's my girl." Remy closed off the view of his legion, ultimately ushering them back to Hell for the time being.

I lowered myself on to Roberto's cock. Rocking my hips, I was ready for a hard strong dose of his power but I knew I had to take it slow. Roberto was weak, if I took too much it would stop his heart.

Remy wore what looked like black leather pants (trust me, it was a much more exotic animal skin.) He didn't need to be unzipped; his cock emerged like a creature, starving, waiting.

I sucked off my mentor, allowing Remy a contact high. My body felt like a circuit, sucking energy through my pussy, up my hips, sternum, out my lips into my master's waiting cock. It didn't take long for Remy to be satisfied. He ejaculated in my mouth, his luminous cum dribbling down my chin.

Remy took a step back, disappearing into the shadows. With that issue dealt with, I kissed Roberto on the forehead. "Sleep well."

Before I could even move Roberto release a shallow breath, "I want to die."

"No, you don't," I said with a comforting tone as I held his hand. "What's next is not much better than this place."

"Heaven or hell?" Roberto's eyes were still closed: he was talking in his sleep.

I found that kind of cute. "Wouldn't you like to know?" I kissed his cheek one last time, before leaving for the night. As I exited the room, I made a point to glance up at the round camera above his doorway, flipping the bird. 'Good night, Dr. Reyes.'

The next day Roberto wasn't at morning meeting. This was very noticeable when the group consisted of just four drug-addicted freaks and Dr. Reyes.

"Bobby tried to off himself again?" I asked casually as I took a seat in the circle. There were ten chairs for only four people, so it wasn't uncommon. "I guess that's what you get for putting him on kitchen duty."

"Anna!" Dr Reyes said with a glare, as if I was a preschooler who feared middle aged women in lab coats.

"Don't we all come here to die?" I asked, leaning back in my folding chair.

"No, Ilyanna, the majority of your peers are here to get better. they want to move forward with their lives.

"Yeah, that's why there are only four of us right? Now three. Is it because we're all so close to being cured?" In the time I'd been at the facility I had seen maybe ten people. The facility was massive, with multiple wards, so it was possible those people were still around, someplace. (Likely in pieces, or on ice.) "People don't leave this place. We're all here to die."

Dr. Reyes slammed her fist against a nearby chair, sending it flying. "That's enough!" she stood up, grasping a binder to her chest. "You may all talk among yourselves." she stormed out of the room.

Raynee Sinclair sighed. "You know you're getting sent to solitary." The small girl looked younger than her eighteen years. I think she used to be a gymnast or something but currently, the poor dear, thought she was a werewolf.

"And I'll just escape again."

Sam rolled his eyes as he sat arms crossed. "Yeah, 'escape,' being the key word."

"I escape in my own special way," I replied with a smirk.

I looked around to the in-room camera. Dr. Reyes was always watching. For the moment I decided to self-isolate in my room, with the comfort of my books, stuffed animals and art supplies. I picked up Leon, my purple dragon, it was one of many toys that had been sent to me by my adoring fans. "Hello, Leo. How are things with you? Remy leaving you alone? Do you think he really wants me to stay with him?" I hugged the dragon, using him as a pillow. "I'd miss you too much." I tried to sleep, but I awoke in the fires of Hell.

On this occasion, Hell took the form of a retro-style freak show. Stepping into the massive tent, I saw a series of exhibits all bathed in spotlight; two girls sewn together, a man with a fish tail instead of legs, etc. It was pretty unimpressive, so I followed the arrows to the main event.

On a performance stage made of bright limestone, an older blond man was crucified on a cross made from wood the color of blood. He seemed normal, so I was curious. I climbed on stage, where I stood at nearly eye level. "Hello?"

I suddenly felt a blow to the back of my head.

"Blonde vs blond," Remy said in his usual jovial tone. His sneak attack had forced me to my knees, so I was now at eye level with the man's limp cock.

"Who is he?"

"Nate Gunthrie," Remy replied with a sick sense of glee.

"Sam's father?" The idea was just hilarious. "Hello, Sir. So nice to meet you, I know your son!"

The man didn't reply, probably because his mouth was dripping blood. It was possible he had no tongue.

"Are you able to speak?" I stood up kissing him on the lips. his blood tasted sweet, as it drooled down my chin, to my breasts. I had been wearing the clothing from the institute (t-shirt and sweatpants without a drawstring,) but now I wore a long evening gown the color of Nate's blood.

Remy gripped my hair, pulling me backward. "This is the man who allowed his meth-head son to blow up the third largest mine in Kentucky." He shoved me to the ground before continuing.

Clearly, my master wanted me to take action against this man's genital region. I had done this form of torture before, but for this particular soul, I wanted to wait and hear Remy's full plan.

Remy pressed his lips to the man's ear. "You killed everyone you ever loved. Now you can endure their level of agony as my apprentice eats your cock."

The man still did not speak; not to beg for mercy, or cry out in fear. That felt off.

My moment of hesitation earned me yet another slap on the back of my head.

"Bite!" Remy was not pleased. "Bite it like the sick little slut you are."

"No," I said with a smile. "I'm not in the mood."

"You're not in the mood?"

"Cut him down, I wish to do a reading."

"Help yourself." Remy tossed me a sickle. The curved blade looked like something out of the 17th century.

I held it for a moment, before cautiously standing up. Since he had conjured the weapon out of midair, he could have easily made another. After ten nervous seconds of attempting to read Remy's expression, I felt safe in the assumption that my master did in fact want me to cut Nate down.

"Don't mind if I do." I pressed the blade to Nate's sternum, down his stomach to test the sharpness. My efforts produced a steady stream of black blood. I repositioned my aim to cut along his collarbone. When I had a nice graceful cut, I pressed my lips to his shoulder, gliding my tongue along his chest, stopping just above his heart. Nate Gunthrie was still silent, but I could feel the frantic tempo of his breath. His agony was simply delightful.

"I sense you died of a fever, as your blood rotted in your veins. I can taste the fear, the pain. Oh, how it lingered. Were your last thoughts of your wife and children? Did that keep you strong?" I knew Sam had a younger sister who left home at eighteen and his mother was still alive somewhere. I took another lick, this time taking a bite of his dead flesh. Now I had the full story. "There was a source of water above your face, dripping on to your lips. That was what kept your body alive for as long as it did. The process was much longer then intended; just long enough for you to lose faith in your Christian God." With a swift cut I freed his legs.

Nate wasn't injured; if he was powerful enough, he could've attack me, but he chose not to. So, I cut him down completely, letting his limp body fall at my feet. I looked up at Remy who was still watching. "Can I keep him, Master?"

"I thought you might." Remy took a few steps backward, disappearing through the wall of fire. "Have fun."

I knew what he wanted. Being a hell spawn was essentially a pyramid scheme and I needed to recruit. When we were alone, I cupped the older man's face. "Close your eyes." He did as I asked, allowing me to administer a soft gentle kiss. "Let's go someplace a little more comfortable."

In a blink, we were now in the small dark bedroom of a trailer home. "This is nice."

Nate, still naked, sat on the bed, looking around. "So, this is Hell?" His voice was deep, southern, just the way I pictured Sam's daddy to sound.

"Kind of,' I said, taking a seat by his side. "I was under the impression this was your house. Did Sam and his sister grow up here?"

He nodded. "My wife left when Sam and Paige were in high school. I think she lives in Maryland with her new husband, some tech guy, or a truck driver, I don't even know."

"You never remarried?" I asked, rifling through the nearby drawers. There was usually something nice in these memory places. I located a bible that felt unnaturally light.

"I ain't got time for that shit. I was working sixteen-hour shifts, eight days a week. My children pretty much raised themselves." He reached for my hand, opening the book to reveal a hidden box. It was a half dozen marijuana cigarettes, and a box of matches.

"Nice." I helped myself to one while handing Nate the rest of the box. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why did Sam take a job in the mines?" Although I could see in to his mind, that was one question I couldn't find the answer to.

"I was sick, late-stage bowel cancer," he said as he lit a blunt.

That was odd, but not impossible. The fact that I couldn't detect it, meant that the illness was not his primary cause of death.

"I was bleeding really bad. I covered it up the best I could, until the seizure. My boy had been out with his friends, doing God knows what. He got home at around two in the morning. According to him I was unconscious in a pool of blood, piss and vomit. He called 911, as anyone would. I was taken to a hospital where they gave me a barrage of tests, all before realizing I had worthless American health insurance. I think my deductible was like 10k or something." He took a long drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs.

"That's when they found the cancer?"

"Yeah, it was everywhere. My lower intestines were completely rotted away," he replied with a chuckle. "They wanted to send me to hospice. The government would pay for part of it but Sam would need to come up with a couple thousand." Nate laughed at the absurdity. "We left the hospital AMA; against medical advice. Sam would get a job, so we could save up some money. Then the emergency room bills started coming. Everything was so bleak and I was in so much pain. We did what we had to do."

"Are you saying you blew up the mine and let Sam take the fall?"

Nate continued to laugh as tears of blood streamed down his rough, unshaven face. "I didn't think he would get arrested."

"Sam is a meth addict. He was found in possession of the components of the bomb."

Nate nodded. "I told him how to escape, I knew he'd survive. I should have realized he'd get the blame pinned on him once he tried to for the life insurance payout."

"Ah, life insurance, the number one reason for people ending up here."

Nate seemed truly remorseful. "How many people did I kill?"

"According to Sam's arrest records the cave-in killed thirty people, but only six bodies were recovered."

Nate nodded, silently blinking tears from his eyes. "You said you knew Sam? Is he in prison?"

"Not really a prison, more like a rehab or the Hotel California; you can check out anytime you want but you can never leave."

Nate turned to me with a look of confusion.

"It's a place where high-risk young offenders go to die."

I could see, my explanation did little to soothe his discomfort. "I've been in there for a little over a year, seen people come and go. Maybe they're stealing our organs, maybe just executing us and disposing of the bodies. The people in lab coats, they've tried to kill me a few times but it's always been easier to just keep me locked up."

"How'd you end up there?"

"I've always been a bad girl. Technically I escaped a child sex slave ring by killing sixteen people (some of whom were very powerful, influential men.) I made the news; people were calling me a hero, and inspiration. Which was why they sent me to the island of lost toys."

"Does this place even have a name?"

"Not that anyone knows. Kids like me and Sam, we go to sleep in our local juvenile detention facilities and wake up there. The place houses international criminals from all over." As far as I knew, all our stories were the same; Raynee, Roberto, and all the others who came before. We were arrested in locations around the globe then somehow (while asleep or likely drugged) we awoke in the unnamed, unguarded facility under the watch of Dr. Reyes (and whoever she reported to.) "I know the only reason I'm still alive is because I sold my soul to some powerful friends of my own. And that's what I mean to do for you."

Nate nodded, taking a few calming breaths.

"If you want to. I can't force you. You'll just go back to being chained to a rock for all eternity. At least with me, you have a friend."

"What would I have to do, to pledge myself to you?"

"Prove that I can trust you," I said with a sweet smile. "I know what you're thinking; if something seems too good to be true, it often is." I turned to face him, letting my clothing melt off until all that was left was soft skin the color of peaches and cream. "And that's smart. I can't even describe what I had to do for my master. However, all I want is someone to make me feel like a real girl."

Nate didn't move.

Maybe he still didn't believe me? Whatever. I flopped down on the bed, making myself comfortable. "Is this the side where your wife used to sleep?"

I didn't wait for an answer. Feeling warm and comfortable I closed my eyes, spread my legs, and started stroking my labia. I kept myself shaved since that was the way Remy liked it. Just feeling the air on my naked flesh made me so wet.

I licked two fingers and started to rub my clit. It didn't take much to give myself a nice orgasm. I raised my hips slightly as my muscles tightened. "So, what do you say? Do you want to be my friend?"

Nate chuckled awkwardly as he walked his rough fingers down my ribs to my slender stomach. "You remind me of my daughter."

I cupped my hand over his limp cock, giving his balls a tender squeeze. "Daddy, can I have a kiss?"

Without hesitation, Nate kissed my lips, his coarse facial hair brushing against my cheek. I wanted to grip his head, to hold the kiss longer. The older man tasted like ashes and rot and I wanted more. He kissed my neck, down my collarbone to my breasts. Caressing my curves, Nate kissed my nipples each in turn; licking, biting, as I moaned.

I reached my hand down to my throbbing clit, desperate for a longer, deeper release. I had barely touched my wet pussy when Nate grabbed my wrist, pinning my arms over my head. "Do you want me?" Looking into his blue eyes I was ready for his cock, but Nate had other plans.

Disappearing between my legs, he put his mouth to my labia. His tongue was long, thick, and he was French kissing my pussy. I gripped his hair, giving his scalp a hard tug. "Yes, Daddy, yes!" I nearly screamed as he repositioned himself, locking his lips on my clit. He was licking and sucking. I was climaxing over and over. My thighs trembled as my swollen clit was pushed to its limit. I was at the height of my orgasm, with my back arched and my legs around his shoulders when Nate ended with a tender bite.

My heart nearly burst out of my chest. I was seeing stars. For the first time in years. I could taste the air in my lungs; crisp, clean, I'd never felt so alive. There were tears in my eyes as my body trembled in ecstasy. Only then did he put his cock inside me.