Title: Hellish Reward II Part 5

Category: Paranormal
Author Pen name: Knorg
Email: paxgronk@hotmail.com
Description: A year after the disappearance of the dude from Hellish Reward, three old friends quest to find him. He probably owes them money. Meanwhile, he’s in Hell.

Part 5 contains: MM/F-Tentacle with some pain.

 

Pete and The Narrator Vs A Tentacle-Demon

 

What happened to us next? A bad day got a whole lot worse, that’s what.

 

“Why didn’t you warn me about that shrubbery?” Pete started to complain. I quickly cut him off.

 

“I did,” I said, “near the end of the last fucking part, but one.”

 

“The what?”

 

“Never mind, dude. We’re through the lobby now. Listen: we’re gonna take the quickest path through Hell I know to get you out of here. I’m not exactly familiar with the way out myself. Still, with any luck we’ll make it out before Dave and Jim-Bob come looking for me. What the hell are those stupid crazy bastards considering braving Hell for anyway for the likes of me?” I asked.

 

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t have bothered,” he said. The right bastard.

 

“Are you ready for this? We’re gonna take a trip through the sewers soon!” I told him cheerfully, “Say Yay!”

 

“Hell has sewers?” Pete didn’t get into the spirit of things.

 

“Of course. Where do you think boy bands come from?”

 

I was walking ahead of Pete down this sandy-floored passage with a low roof. There wasn’t much to look at there – it was like an early 3D game design. I was ahead for two reasons; the first was that I supposedly knew where I was going. The second, and more important, was so I didn’t have to look at Pete’s hairy naked dead ass. The truth of the matter was that I wasn’t really sure where we were going. A lot of the layout of Hell and places within respond to psychic stimulus, so it’s often changing as people and things come and go. It was still possible to aim for a destination and eventually arrive there, if you knew what you were doing.

 

I hoped I knew what I was doing.

 

“Anyway, look on the bright side Pete – those minor demons who did notice us took one look at my collar tag and stayed out of our way. I hoped that’d happen. After all, it’s obvious you and me couldn’t have broken my chain so nobody’s gonna think I’m helping you escape. They think She must have done it. Logic, see?”

 

That was what I assumed at the time was happening, It didn’t occur to me until much later that they could probably also smell Lilith all over me. I had the mark of a powerful demon and her powerful mum upon me, and all Peter had was his hairy dead ass. That might well have been enough to protect him – even demons have limits, you know what I’m saying?

 

Things had been going pretty good – the only real problem had come when Pete hadn’t been able to control his shock at seeing a McDonalds franchise. Of course, naked dead guys don’t carry a whole lot of change  - some have a couple of coins - so I had to drag him away as best I could.

 

As with evils, all dull sandy corridors must eventually have their ends. I led Pete around a bend and we walked into a fairly large grey-walled room. It was pretty damn dark in there. Shadows jumped about from flickering torches set into the walls. The ceiling of the room was shadowed above; I couldn’t tell how high it went. I could see three other doorways out of the room aside from the way we had come in; there was a doorway set into each corner. They were small, as hell-doors go, seemingly not designed for the passage of large things. Set above each of the doors was an iron portcullis on a chain, ready to fall. The only other thing I noted in the room was a big smooth column, easily five feet across, in the centre. The top disappeared up into the shadows. All in all, the room looked like a ‘dungeons and dragons’ player’s dungeon dream. Yeah, you heard that right.

 

“Which way do we go now then?” Pete asked.

 

His voice echoed for an unnaturally long period. I started to feel about as uneasy as little Red Riding Hood did when she saw her mum putting dog biscuits into granny’s food basket.

 

“Well…” I began. 

 

Behind us, a woman laughed. I spun to the side as quickly as a virgin shoots his load. I caught the briefest glimpse of a pale skinned woman. As soon as I focussed, there was nobody there.

 

Pete was both a Star Wars fan and a SomethingAwful reader, “It’s a trap!” he said. I wanted to slap him, even though I thought I was right. He has that effect on people.

 

I spoke loudly and clearly, “Now, now… Pete… who’d want to trap us? We’re just going about our mistress’s business, eh?” I fingered the nametag on my collar, and continued, “I’m sure nobody would want to interfere in her business.”

 

Now, either Pete hadn’t quite cottoned on to what I was trying, or wanted to die twice.

 

“What the hell are you talking about? You ran away from her! You said you’d be in major trouble if you were…”

 

The portcullises slammed down. We were trapped like front row ticket holders at a Cliff Richard concert.

 

“Pete. You belong dead.” I spoke with heartfelt emotion and a Frankenstein’s monster accent. Or tried too – It came out Kentish.

 

“I can’t believe you got me into this!” he shot back, getting me good and mad.

 

“Bite me! I’m only here because you asked me to help you!”

 

We heard more laughter and looked towards the central pillar. This time there was an attractive pale white arm wrapped around the column’s bulk. Dancing shadows and the mass of stone obscured its owner. At least, I hope it was stone – you never can tell in Hell. The fingers wiggled, and then signalled for us to come to the column.

 

“What do we do?” Pete spoke with the same of tremor of fear of a likely painful defeat that he used whenever Zidane played for France, Van Nistelrooy for Holland or Heskey came on for England.

 

“Well,” I said, “If we stay here she’ll probably come get us anyway. Let’s go.” With a lot of trepidation and, on Pete’s part, hairy naked ass wobbling, we approached the wide column.

 

“I can’t wait until this is over with…” Pete muttered.

 

“Me either. Then I can stop talking about your hairy naked ass.”

 

“What?”

 

“Never mind, dude.”

 

We reached the column, and each walked around a different direction. We met on the other side. Uncharacteristically avoiding the obvious, neither of us said that there was nobody there. It was then that I noticed that there was a circle in the floor around the column, and that the floor there was slightly lower than in the rest of the room. Laughter sounded from the other side of the column so we trooped back around our respective column sides. This time we only got half the way around before we saw her. She was standing there in a kickass leather dress, with her pale hands on her blood-red leather skirt.

 

Hell – where Leather has never gone out of fashion. Or Mullets.

 

All in all, she looked like a ‘dungeons and dragons’ player’s wet dream - without dice. I recognised that her physical features were Japanese, without any obvious inhuman features beyond the pale skin – she was either a demon or blogger. An uncomfortable tremble of precognition rumbled in my stomach. I wasn’t a second sighter, but I’d developed a few instincts in Hell and right now, all I could think of was a big plate of spaghetti. I dropped down on one knee faster than a sinner on judgement day and started to beg.

 

“Great lady. We beseech thy mercy, pray forgive the foolish prattling of my simple minded and dead companion. He knows nothing. Our mistress would not willingly see us harmed…” Yeah, well, it was pretty fucking spur of the moment. Lets hear you try something better when your naked and in Hell.

 

“You what?” Pete seemed determined to get us royally fucked. Literally. He continued with a rant about how I shouldn’t be the one calling anyone stupid, and what a twat I was for getting him into this. If there hadn’t been a column between us, I’d have kicked his balls into orbit.

 

Of course, she just laughed. I enjoy the sound of woman’s laugher but she was starting to grate. The demoness lifted her hand and gently waved a finger from side to side. No.

 

“Is this… is this where we get raped by a horny demon woman?” Pete asked, rubbing his hands together. The woman smiled broadly as her legs glowed and blurred. She now had a huge tangle of blood red tentacles of differing widths and endings writhing beneath her. They emerged from her waist and a few were easily holding her up off the ground.

 

“I bloody well hope not…” I started, but it was too late. Tentacles extended effortlessly out and blasted towards us. “Shit. We’re fuckin’ Hentai’d and we aren’t even dressed as schoolgirls. ‘the fuck did we have to wander through Japanese Hell for?” I complained, as heavy tentacles wrapped around my ankles and wrists, and dragged my naked back and ass up against the column. Around the other side I could hear something similar happening to Pete. The tentacles around my wrists were smooth, firm, and felt as dry as healthy human skin. Our attacker continued to laugh as she whipped other tentacles around herself; too fast for me to get a good look at them. Pete started moaning and cursing around the other side of the column and then shouting angered defiance. One close look at those tentacles and I stopped talking and kept my fucking mouth shut, I can tell you.

 

“What’s she doing? What’s she gonna do? Let me go!” I heard Pete saying. I figured that she was making us anticipate her attack, letting us torture ourselves in a thousand inventive ways at the speed of thought before she even touched us. I shivered as I realised I was enjoying the fear and growing aroused. I felt ashamed, growing aroused at the touch of another demoness when I was supposed to be Hers. If you’d ever asked me as a kid if I thought that, one day, I’d pop a boner while pinned to a pillar by a tentacle demon I’d probably have looked at you a bit funny and refused to get in your car. You know what I mean.

 

“Arrrgh! Arrgh!” A new urgency in Pete’s cries dragged me from my mental reverie, and I looked to see two bundles of writhing tentacles splitting out of the mass and moving across the floor towards each of us. I grit my teeth and threw a pleading glance at our demonic captor. Fool that I am, she of course drank it in and enjoyed it. I looked down to see the bundle of tentacles writhing in front of me and found my fear rising. I’m thankful to this day I managed to avoid cursing a traditional ‘oh, bugger me’.

 

“Lady,” I called, forgetting to keep my mouth shut, “I am the property of a most powerful demon. I will not willingly give myself to you!” Then, with a little more fear in my voice as she laughed again, “Please, let us go. Please!”

 

It sounded like Pete was seeing the same things before him that I was, shouting about he didn’t want to be touched by a thick tentacle. The thickest tentacle of the bunch rose up out of the mass in front of me, stopping at groin height. I locked my eyes on it and was surprised by what I saw. It end of the tentacle was far from phallic, being flat, and rounded, with a slit that reminded me more hairless pussy lips than any piss-slit.

 

“Shit!” it nuzzled forward and began to impale itself on my semi-hard cock. I heard a high-pitched squeal from Pete. The poor bastard was clearly terrified. The large tentacle soon had my cock entirely engulfed. It was slick and warm inside and pulsed rhythmically around my meat. It felt like there were little clit like nubs just inside the tentacles ‘lips’ rubbing against my cock. 

 

That felt good. I was soon groaning gently, while protesting as best I could between my clenched teeth, as the tentacle worked my prick. Others ‘broke out’ from the bundle and rubbed up my legs, around my crotch and then up my chest. All the ones I could see had the same kind of ending as the one working my cock, but the ones still on the ground appeared different. I could hear Pete’s cries growing steadily louder and more frequent from the other side of the column; it sounded to me like he was trying to bang his ass against the column and pull his prick out of his tentacle. I didn’t have much sympathy for his plight as I was greatly enjoying the sensations in my cock. The pulsing around my prick increased milking my prick.

 

“That’s good…” I moaned, “I mean… uh… Damn you again for doing this to me! Damn youuuuu!”

 

I remembered Pete wasn’t anybody’s property and tried to alleviate his fear, “Pete man! Just relax and enjoy it!”

 

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU? SOME KIND OMMM AMPOTT!” Pete’s angered sounded was muffled, and it sounded to me like a tentacle pushing across his mouth must have cut it off. A few had rubbed over my face, and the slits smelt good up close, much like the demon musk I was used to.

 

Gently pulsing tentacles were soon wrapped around most of my body. They held me tightly as I came inside the tentacular-pussy. It pulled away and another moved in and quickly replaced it. The tentacles wrapped around my neck didn’t stop me looking over at our demonic captor. The leather straps on her dress were down, exposing a lovely pair of inhumanly perfect breasts with blood-red nipples. I saw that she hadn’t moved from her spot and was happily playing with her breasts. Her heard was hanging back, and her mouth hanging open. I thought I could hear her mewling with pleasure over Pete’s muffled cries. At least she’d stopped the fucking laughing. It was at about that time that I heard Pete’s muffled cries reach their peak. His rocking back against the column ceased and he groaned.

 

“Knew… knew you’d get into it…” I muttered. A splash sounded loudly from Pete’s side of the column, suggesting he was shooting a porn-star’s quantity of spunk. ‘Far more information about Pete than I wanted to know,’ I thought. Of course, it was only later I realised the hideous truth.

 

A tentacle stopped right in front of my mouth and started rubbing my lips. I no longer felt like resisting. I stuck out my tongue and licked it, and then tasted just inside. It pushed more forcefully against my face. I could just see the demoness nodding me on as I pushed out my tongue and swiped it along the tentacle lips. They tasted sweet and I licked for more, pushing my tongue inside the warm pulsing tentacle. Working the small internal nubs seemed to bring little as I tried my best to orally pleasure my captor like I would a woman.

 

The new tentacle working on my cock was as good as the first, and it managed to get me hard again as it worked my shaft. I took a little longer, but I was soon gasping and shooting a load into that one as well. Pulsing writhing tentacles around my neck supported my hanging head as a third tentacle started to trouble my shaft. I realised that the demoness wanted me in all her many holes. ’OH SHIT’ I thought, as I felt the tentacles rubbing over the now very sensitive crown and trying to tempt my cock back to hardness.

 

“Gimmee… few minutes” I suggested, as the tentacle moved from my mouth. Pete was managing to impress me with his sexual prowess – and I sure as shit never wanted to know about that either. From what I had heard Pete was already servicing his fourth tentacle. Not me and Mr Floppsy though. We were done. The tentacles drew away from my crotch and for some reason I felt a surge of triumph. Can you ever imagine superman feeling heroic for not being able to get it up?

 

“Ha! You can’t rape me any more you… EEEEEEEEP!” was how I started to crow before two thin tentacles rose from the much reduced bundle on the floor. I was just about ready to shit my column as I saw their ends; they looked not unlike scorpion stingers and they were headed right for my balls.

 

“AARRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

 

A stinger struck each testicle, right on target.

 

“FFFUUUUCCCCKKKARRGGGHHHHH!” I was drowning out Pete’s frequent muffled cries in my agony. I banged my head back against pulsing tentacle – the only thing that stopped me braining myself against the column. I wanted to pass out, I wanted to die.

 

I was taking quick panicked breaths between cries as I looked down to see that the tentacles were withdrawing from my swollen scrotum, two dots of blood signalling their departure. The demoness was raptly enjoying the show, drinking my suffering. The fire in my balls spread through my shaft and then, incredibly, mercifully, faded. I looked down at my suddenly bloated balls and erect cock, and the precum-like liquid leaking from the end.

 

The tentacles began to swarm for my crotch again. The fastest impaled itself on my shaft and began massaging it within the slick, wet, tenticular heat.

 

“oooohhhh wowwwww,” I groaned loudly, “I’m I’m… oooohhh fucccckkk…”

 

The sensations were the best yet and I started thrusting my hips against the tentacle, willingly fucking the pulsing organ like the pussy it resembled. I came hard with the tentacle milking me like cow a cow’s udder as more cum blasts than I’d ever shot blew into it. Finally the tentacle reluctantly pulled off with a wet sucking noise and another took its place on my hard cock.

 

I could still hear Pete’s loud muffled complaining along with his rhythmic cries of pleasure and pain on the other side of the column. I was in no mood to listen  - I assumed she wasn’t either, hence the muffling - as the tentacles drove me from climax to climax and milked the seemingly-never-ending streams of spunk from my balls. It seemed like hours passed as we were trapped and our captor employed tentacle after tentacle upon us. My fingers were flexing spastically as I hung in my soft prison, my whole world reduced to the multiple orgasms flowing through me. Sometimes I had a tentacle in my face to lick, or near my fingers to massage and prod, but she seemed mostly interest in milking my balls.

 

I was near dead from exhaustion when she unwound all her tentacles from us without warning. I landed hard on the cold floor. It was no longer hard and I began to sink into it - Pete did the same. I was too tired to resist as warm grey mud washed over me.

 

She started to laugh again.

 

Everything went black.

 

End of Part 5!