You thought the decision was made when you died.
That your deeds during your life would either send you to heaven or hell.
That the trip would be almost instantaneous.
And then you are introduced to the River Styx.
Unfortunately for you, a ride on the river, to the other side, is not direct.
Like a cruise ship, there are many stops before you reach your final destination.
I am told each soul experiences the trip differently.
This is my story.
There were seven of us, seven souls on this trip across the river. Four women, and three men. None of us had known the others in life. Or was it that we no longer remembered, now that we were dead, what had gone before?
The trail we had followed had led to the edge of the river and we stood there, waiting, as three dogs trailed around our feet. They each licked us. A chihuahua, an Irish wolfhound, and an airedale.
The boat pulled up. It looked black and enameled, like a piece of Japanese woodwork. The boat was open, blood red inside, like some sort of Gothic gondola. The man?, creature? in the back was apparently in command of the boat and was dressed in a pair of black slacks and a black turtleneck.
"Cerberus!" His voice was thunderous. We all cowered.
The dogs stood together, and changed shape, merging, melting into one another, growing larger.
The immense three headed dog stood above us, growling.
The heads then began picking us up and placing us into the boat. The steersman watched with interest as each of us was placed within.
The last passenger embarked was one of the men. He screamed as the teeth of the second head pierced his body and he was dropped unceremoniously into the front of the boat. We all looked up, then forward, terrified, but the creature simply sat and separated back into the three dogs, which then approached an adult and a number of children walking down the path.
Most of the others looked ahead to where we were going. But I turned to look behind. Another boat was pulling up next to the shore and it was much bigger than the one we were in.
The steersman glanced at me and said, "Multiple dimensions."
I looked at the steersman more closely. He was dark skinned, bald, but sported a goatee. His eyes weren't the deep brown one would expect. Yes, they were red but not like flames. They were the deep red of coals.
He wasn't particularly tall, maybe five foot eight, but you could see the muscles ripple in his arms as he held the tiller. No tail, no horns.
He did, however, have a deep voice, in the Barry White vein. He saw I was examining him and smiled. There were fangs.
Actually, for a demon, or whatever he was, he was mighty fine.
Suddenly, noises that I didn't expect reached my dead ears.
I whipped around to see the man who had been bitten and dropped had one of the women bent over a seat. Her skirt was thrown up on her back and I watched him grasp his dick and plunge in.
The woman fairly screamed at his entrance. He grabbed her hips and started thrusting, grunting, then slapping her ass in time.
I turned back to look at the steersman. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Football player." The others on the boat either watched in boredom or ignored the sight completely.
I was shocked. At first. Then I started thinking.
No diseases. No risk of pregnancy.
He looked as he did when we joined up on the path, so, no wounds. No scratches or marks would last any length of time.
We could obviously feel things. Emotions. Sensations.
What would I do? What could I try? What had always piqued my interest?
Nasty little fantasies began running through my head.
I turned back to the steersman and found that he was not unaffected by the scene before him. A rather prodiguous bulge had formed in the front of his pants.
What would he be like? Anatomically?
And as I contemplated the being at the back of the boat my nether lips began to fill with blood and become slick.
I was in the middle of the boat, so I had a few rows of seats to move over to get to him.
I made my way slowly, even though the surface of the water we floated on was as smooth as glass, and finally sat before him. I was facing the rear of the boat, not looking at where we were going, but at him. While his eyes kept track of our course, he certainly knew I was there.
I eyed the bulge in his pants and put my hands around his knees.
"What do you want, little one?"
I licked my lips before I answered, then laid one palm upon that bulge. "This."
"Are you certain?"
I looked up at him then. His eyes, if anything, had grown darker as he looked down upon me. They shifted away slightly, then quickly back to my face.
He smelled earthy, smoky, definitively male. "Yes."
I slid my hands up the back of his thighs. The texture of the pants he wore was unusual, not really leather, rough, perhaps the skin of some reptile?
"Sharkskin." He said.
I cupped his buttocks in my hands as I heard other noises behind me, moans, whimpers, the squelching of wet flesh.
I twisted my head around as I continued to knead his buttocks. They were firm, full, and felt good under my palms. He did nothing to stop the fondling of his flesh.
The others were in various states of undress, arousal, and sexual congress.
The football player was still going at it with the woman he was fucking. She was screaming, apparently in pleasure. The football player, himself, was groaning.
From the look on his face, you would think he had already shot his load and had lost control of what his body was doing.
In the meantime, however, one of the other men had yanked down his pants and was shoving his cock into the football player's ass. The second man's eyes were screwed tightly shut, in a grimace of pleasure.
The third man had his cock in his hand and would stroke, then jerk, his organ. His hips were bucking as he pulled roughly on his own flesh. His eyes were glued onto the other two women.
They, in turn, were kissing, hands in each other's shirts. One of them stood, took down, and stepped out of her pants. Her blond hair twisted about her head as she stepped forward and assumed a spreadlegged pose. The brunette seated before her moaned as she buried her face between the blond woman's thighs. The blond's hands went to the other woman's head and she threw her head back as she was eaten.
I turned back to the steersman, finding my hands had gone to the fastening of his pants. My fingers nervously plucked at them, to release the treasure straining behind the sharkskin.
Before pulling down the covering, I rubbed my cheek against it. Both of us moaned as I felt a twitch in the member my face was now very close to.
I looked up at him again as my fingers reached around the top edge of the pants. I could feel a slight burn on my cheek from the roughness of the sharkskin.
I wanted to see what he had, now.
I yanked down everything that had been covering him. Now free, the fascinating appendage that was his cock was now ready to be touched, sucked, adored.
I looked at it in curiousity. He was uncut, which I wasn't used to, so I reached out to touch the tip.
He groaned as my warm hand touched equally warm flesh. "I thought you would be.. cold." I grasped his foreskin, rather gently, and moved it back and forth a couple of times over the knob at the end of his penis. It was surprisingly flexible, and soft.
Another moan left his lips, almost sepulchral in quality.
I wrapped my fingers around his shaft, they didn't quite circle his girth, touching that soft smooth skin. There was a large vein on the underside and I could feel the pulse of the blood beneath my fingers.
It rose from a tangle of dark, curled hairs. It was also dark, thick, and rather long. Why did a being of the underworld need such an impressive piece of equipment?
His thick voice reached my ears. "I was once alive, as you were."
A drop of clear, thick fluid rose from the tip of his shaft. I opened my mouth and reached forward with the tip of my tongue to lick it from him.
Another noise from him. I moved forward and engulfed the tip of him with my mouth.
I heard moans and the squelching sounds of connecting flesh behind me but I concentrated on what I had before me.
The taste was salty, rich, kind of.. smoky. I wondered what the rest would taste like.
So, I teased that weeping eye briefly, pulled back his foreskin and swirled my tongue around his head.
Another loud moan from him as one hand went to the top of my head and rested there, lightly.
With no further prelude I sank down on him completely and his hips bucked at the feeling. That scared me a little. I hoped I wouldn't gag.
His hand gripped my head a little more tightly.
I came back, dragging my teeth lightly along his length. He growled.
I looked up, briefly, and caught his dark hooded eyes. He smiled, fangs showing again.
OK, I hadn't pissed him off. Good.
I bobbed up and down on his shaft, no longer registering the noises behind me. I sucked, I licked, I swirled my tongue around his shaft. He tasted wonderful and I hadn't even gotten a taste of his sperm yet.
I kept up the pace, trying to go deeper, and was surprised when my nose encountered the curly hairs at his base. I usually had trouble with that.
He started grunting, his hips jerking, and his fingers twined in my hair.
I took my hands away from his legs and cupped his balls with one hand, god, they were tight, and rubbed my index finger against his asshole.
One last deep move and I sucked for all I was worth, squeezed and released his balls, and penetrated his anus about the same time.
He let loose a roar that rocked the boat and shot his load into my mouth.
I didn't know how I kept up with it all.
As the pulsing organ slowed its eruption, I took time to taste what he had given me.
Yum. Rich, smoky.
He pulled me off his cock and tilted my head up towards him.
He was panting, sweating. He pulled me up to him with his free arm, and into a fierce kiss.
His other hand never left the tiller.
I barely felt the gentle thump as we connected with another dock. I looked up as he called out, "Vangloria! Everyone out!"
I looked into his eyes as he gave me a slight nod.
His eyes glowed more brightly than they had before and he reluctantly released me.
Everyone else looked surprised as they were suddenly no longer actively fucking, sucking, or otherwise pursuing carnal pleasures. They got off the boat.
I was the last. "Is this heaven?"
He shook his head. "Will you be here when we come back?"
It was amazing. Reporters and paparazzi swarmed us when we stepped onto the island.
It was warm, beautiful, and the entryway was covered in billboards showing our faces.
It was like we were the most celebrated people on the planet, um, world, OK, underworld.
We passed under an arch made of pink marble with gold streaks and walked into a space filled with opulent shops and houses. The grandest space stood before us, about a quarter mile away. A large, well, castle, I guess, stood behind an enormous fountain spouting water. On top of the fountain stood one of our party. A statue, made in her image.
She squealed at the sight, and said something in Russian.
Her adoring fans were yelling in Russian, as well, and the throng pressed her forward, toward the mansion or castle or whatever it was.
Some of the shops had names on them. I saw mine, emblazoned in gold, and walked towards it. It was difficult, as flashes kept going off in my face.
I finally lost my temper and yelled at the reporters and paparazzi as I tried to enter the shop. "Leave me the hell alone!"
Just like that, they vanished.
"What the hell?"
"What can I do for you, Ms. Canton?"
"I don't know. What do you do here?"
"Anything you want, Ms. Canton. Absolutely anything."
I had no idea at all what that meant or what to ask for. "Perhaps we can start with some pampering?"
"OK. Pampering sounds good."
And, poof! Four women appeared. One pulled off my shoes and started soaking my feet; one soaked my hand and tsked at the other one; one took down my hair and began to brush it; the last pulled out a purple silk dress with a full skirt and hung it before me.
It seemed like hours later. I'd had a manicure, pedicure, facial, scalp massage, hair treatment, and my body hair had been stripped, painlessly.
The dress fit me perfectly and a photographer took several beauty shots.
As I was looking over the pictures, I heard his voice. "Time to come back to the boat."
I smiled and stood. "Thank you, all. I have to go."
As I walked away, I was joined by five of the others. We returned to the dock and got into the boat. I turned around, looking for the Russian woman.
I realized they were pulling away from the dock and turned to the steersman. "Wait."
He shook his head at me.
They were now six.
And, again, with nothing better to do, the football player and one of the men made their way over to the brunette. The football player's original playmate was no longer on the boat.
They began to remove her clothing, touching, licking, sucking along the way.
The football player stripped down and, with his manhood, such as it was, standing tall, lay down in the bottom of the boat. The other man had been working the woman, with a hand between her legs. She was moaning as he toyed with her.
The football player spit on his hand and lubed his rod, then spit again and rubbed it between her ass cheeks. The other man moved her backwards a bit, positioned her over the football player's cock, and started lowering her.
Her eyes went wide as her anus opened to accept the invader and then she started cooing at the sensation. She sighed when she had slid completely down on his cock.
The football player grabbed her tits and started thrusting up into her ass.
The second man crouched down, kissed her, bit her neck, and worked his mouth down to one of her ample breasts. He bit and licked there as she bounced, his hand back between her legs. He took some of her juice and rubbed it on his cock, then dropped down and pushed it into her wet pussy.
Damn. Never in my life had I seen a double penetration.
OK. I take that back. I guess I wasn't alive anymore and a boyfriend had me watch a porno once that had dp in it.
The other man had thrown the blond on the bottom of the boat and was busily slurping away.
The blond was up on her elbows, head thrown back, moaning. Her legs shook.
I had my eye, once again, on the steersman.
I climbed back over the benches in the boat and reached out to his pants.
"No." I looked up at him, confused, and pouted.
"Touch yourself for me."
I blinked at him and he smiled. The points of his fangs were a little scary but his eyes showed a brighter red as he looked at me.
Once I lay down on the bench in front of him, I never took my eyes off him.
I pursed my lips, licked them, and then pushed aside the silk that covered my taut nipples. I pinched, I pulled, I twisted my nipples making them crinkle up tighter and throb.
Then, feeling a spreading dampness below, I pulled up the skirt on the dress, revealing what lay beneath.
I had gotten a little daring with my undergarments. I was wearing a deep red garter belt with black, seamed stockings. There was no underwear, no panties. My brown curled hairs showed the wetness I had built there.
I swear he practically drooled at the sight.
My hand, ever so slowly, wandered down my body, until my fingertips rested in those curly hairs. "Yes," he breathed.
And so, I twisted a little further, so I was open to him. So that he could see everything I was doing.
Two fingers slid down my labia, then down the inside of my thighs. They shook slightly as I stroked them.
I knew what my lower lips looked like. Darker. Swollen. Fluid seeping from between them.
I ran those fingers between those lips and across my clitoris, slowly.
I gasped lightly and brought my other hand down between my thighs.
Two fingers ventured into my welcoming pussy and came out covered with my sticky secretions.
As I began to rub my little nub with one hand, I brought those two fingers up to my lips.
Opening my mouth, I sucked them inside.
I swear his knees began to buckle, but he caught himself.
There was a very noticeable bulge in the front of his pants.
Then, with the fingers of one hand, I held my lips open for him to see. With the other hand, I stroked and rubbed myself to orgasm, now and then dipping my fingers into the wetness that flowed from my pussy.
My legs tightened, and shook.
My back arched as I let out a very loud groan.
I came on my own hand, a rush of fluid emerging from the warm wetness that was me.
His eyes flicked quickly to the side and, coming down from my climax, I looked in that direction.
We had come to another dock.
He took a couple of deep breaths and yelled, "Superbia. Everyone out."
I rearranged my dress, and stood facing him.
Pulling my skirt up one more time, I gathered some of my slick juices onto a finger.
I brought the finger close to his face and his nostrils widened.
He opened his mouth and I put the finger in my own mouth and sucked it clean.
I then gave him a libidinous smile and left the boat.
He growled lightly at my departure.
We all found ourselves on the dock and the six of us walked to the archway and our next experience of the River Styx.
The archway here was made up of a golden stone, almost like amber, that shone in the light. The whole place was very brightly lit. It was almost blinding.
Again, there were signs with our names on them. At the end of the road, however, there was no grand house like the last time we had docked.
We all glanced at each other and entered our own respective shops.
And here I found a man, well-dressed and polite, who took me by the hand and walked with me through what appeared to be a museum of me.
There were test papers where I had gotten A's or scored highly.
There were my graduation certificates.
Pictures. What appeared to be my first steps, my first ride on a bicycle, my senior prom.
A good performance evaluation from my boss. The announcement of my promotion.
My heart swelled a bit. This was a review of a lot of the good things I had done.
But it wasn't all of them.
There was nothing to do with my volunteer work at the nursing home.
Evening driving delivering meals to shut-in seniors.
Reading to my nieces and nephews.
I looked at my guide, "Where is the rest?"
He simply smiled and gestured, broadly indicating the small array of achievements from my life.
I took one more turn around the building and thanked him for his time.
Once outside the shop, I found myself returned to the boat.
The others returned also, in short order.
The boat again left the dock. We were still six.
I shot a questioning look to the steersman and he shrugged his shoulders and beckoned me closer.
He grabbed me with his free arm and held me tightly to him, my back to his front.
I had full view of the rest of the goings on in the boat.
The others divested themselves of their clothing once again.
Two men again were working on the brunette. She was on her hands and knees, with the younger of the men pumping away behind her. He'd slap her ass in time with his thrusts. I couldn't tell whether he was in her pussy or her ass, but she didn't seem to care. She was grunting in time with the man's thrusts, mostly because her mouth was full of something else.
The football player stood before her and was being treated to the warmth of her mouth, the tightness of her throat. He had his eyes screwed shut in pleasure as she was pushed forward and backward on his pole.
The blond was straddling the last man, riding him as if he were a mechanical bull in a bar.