The past hides many things: secrets, innuendos, betrayals, bullying, murders. It is the boundary between “was” and “is,” beyond which one can no longer remember who is sinful and who is righteous. Unconsciousness comes, depriving a reasonable assessment. Sometimes the Great Light turns out to be darkness, and the Great Darkness hides the light. Everything is relative and is weighed on the scale of events. Deed against deed, truth against falsehood, loyalty against betrayal — and what ends up being more determines the side. Anything less is written off, whitewashing or denigrating for the sake of dominance. Although in fact: behind the Great Light there is often an immense darkness, and behind the Great Darkness rises the true light.… Everything is relative, right?..
The events of the story “Dark Reality. The Abyss Between Us” takes place on an alternate Earth. Another dimension, slightly different laws and orders, despite the similarity with ours, build original storylines with a mixture of mysticism and fantastic assumptions. Erotic scenes are planned (pairs or triangles are different), sometimes of a violent nature. Each such scene has its own tasks and impact on the fate of specific characters: negative or positive — we will see over time.
I advise especially religious people not to look into history, as there are many references to demons, angels, the Devil and God in completely non-religious aspects. Take care of your psyche and pass by. Anyone who decides otherwise and muddies the waters in the comments, without delving into the essence of the story, will go to the “ban”.
The schedule of the calculation?
“As you write. And here a lot depends on the Muse)”
Well, after the colorful introduction: “On a long journey, The most daring!”
Chapter 1. She
The lace curtains swayed slightly under the gusts of wind that brazenly made its way through the half-open window. With him, someone unknown to science climbed over the windowsill into the semi-dark women’s room. A wild animal? The wolf? The goblin? This shaggy, unkempt creature looked like an unbridled male during the rut. The naked, fur-covered body cast an excited shadow on the white carpet, visible by the weak light of a night light located in the corridor.
A neon strip squeezed through the half-open door and hugged the column of a double, Victorian-style bed.
The creature did not pay attention to such minor details. He was interested in a girl sprawled on rumpled sheets, tossing in her sleep. Her loose blond hair created a heart-shaped halo around her face, and her pale, thin hands clutched at the fabric, clenching into fists. She moaned a little and moved her legs, sometimes crossing them, sometimes spreading them apart. A blush appeared on her cheeks. The beast, which was not really seen before, had excellent eyesight to notice this in the semi-darkness that reigned around.
Approaching the bed, the uninvited guest bent down, a wide palm with unnaturally long claws landed on the girl’s chest, squeezing it tightly. A louder groan confirmed what he had already smelled—the victim had fallen under the influence of the bloody deity Vaga, known for his depraved charms.
This ancient form of life manifested itself once a century, on the night of the Walpa. She awakened unmanifested witches born to seduce, just like the sex male who penetrated under the cover of night, by lust-obsessed junior priests. Peculiar rapists were raised in the “Temple of Wu”, which was located at the junction of two mountains — Bolshaya and malaya — and where the portal to Hell was located.
Novices were stolen from everywhere into the unusual temple, and then in special isolated chambers, the temptress-priestesses taught them the science of love and lust and taught them how to master a witch on the night of the Walpole — a difficult task and fraught with serious risks, despite the triviality of the process itself.
It was always necessary to take into account superpowers that could suddenly awaken during sexual intercourse. There have been cases where male sex workers have been burned alive or turned into blocks of ice. One of them choked on his own saliva, and then two holes were found on his neck, with cobra venom oozing out of them. The witch who bit him turned out to be Nagi, a snake—like goddess whose rage knew no bounds, and murder was her prerogative.
Either a wolf or a goblin, for the most part assuming human form, bowed his shaggy head and bit into the parted, moaning female lips with a greedy, demanding kiss. He was not taught to hesitate or doubt, everything must be done quickly and efficiently, so that the witch would know the full extent of pain and pleasure, because soon she would have to share a bed with the lord of hell himself, becoming one of his concubines.
Yes, that’s what sex males were created for. They introduced the newly converted witches into a stream of vice, fire and torment, so that they would not contradict the one to whom they were bequeathed by providence. The devil needed children from earthly women, because they could live in two worlds at the same time and carry the “Black Bible” to people. But not everyone could give birth to the most fallen angel, which is why witches were valued for their weight in gold in the man-made age.
Tearing apart the weightless nightgown, consisting of delicate crossed lines and weightless folds of blue, the creature, leaving bloody traces, ran an open palm over the victim’s stomach. It lowered its arm lower, spread its legs, shimmering in the semi-darkness, and, bending down, with a long tongue like a snake, sharply struck into the depths of the cave, which opened and oozed juice.
The body beneath him arched and convulsed, but not from orgasm or pleasure, but from the tearing pain. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but the girl did not wake up, held by Vagi in the clutches of a nightmarish dream, where a huge hairy monster roughly thrust its excited organ into her body, tearing it in half. In reality, blood covered the sheets, and a nimble tongue covered with small thorns continued to draw a sign of power inside the womb, tying this witch to the Devil with indestructible bonds. The seal, sealed with blood, with the consent of one of the parties or not, did not matter. Only the one to whom the woman now belonged can remove her — the Lord and no one else.
After finishing the job, the sex male pulled back, catching a quiet moan, because the victim could no longer scream out loud after half an hour of tormenting himself. The skin of his face seemed deathly pale and exuded an almost otherworldly coldness.
The creature felt no pity or compassion. All unnecessary emotions were eradicated by the most cruel and brutal tortures in the first days of initiation into a new role. Looking blankly at the body sprawled on the blood-soaked bed, the sex man continued his initiation, descending from above and this time roughly bursting first into the vagina, and when he felt his own discharge approaching, he accelerated. The wild rhythm carried no tenderness. The rapist did not know what she was: all that mattered was to complete the task and break the witch before her power awakened and she realized her power.
The female body under the sex man seemed to be dead: the girl’s lips were slightly open, the closed eyes resembled dark holes.
There was silence all around, and the lights in the hallway were blinking intensely, as if the network had begun to fluctuate.
Suddenly, waves of electrical discharges swept across the surface of the female body. Space hummed, time hissed, and the bed began to shake. And the chairs standing against the wall, bouncing on the spot, fell sideways.
Sparkled… sparkled…
The darkness cowered in terror in the darkest and farthest corners.
The creature shuddered, engulfed in a chilling wild flame, but did not even try to stop, continuing to rush in, tear, torment, albeit an unconscious girl.
“I won’t have time to perform the second part of the ritual.… Someone else will have to,” was the last thought before the monster, who had once been human and thought of a happy future, crumbled to dust, having managed, true to his duty, to pour himself into a witch and leave a tiny snake—like mental creature inside her body, clinging to her body and curling into a fetal position.
Chapter 2. The High Priestess
A woman appeared in the room without making a sound. With a well-groomed finger, she slid over the cold forehead of the motionless girl. Torn apart on a crumpled and bloodstained bed, she sprawled like a broken doll.
The darkness of the surrounding space became thicker, and the streak of light could not disperse it: too weak and thin a ray, cautiously making its way into the room through the crack formed by the ajar door.
An electronic clock quietly measured the moment of eternity. Earth time is verified and understandable to everyone in a technocratic society. But the world beyond order is alien and morally unacceptable. A twisted snobbery that arose from the moment when the whole was fragmented into fragments of light and dark, righteous and vicious…
All this is a long—standing story. That’s not the point right now.
The uninvited guest in the room that smelled of torment and pain, where a special Temple minister had recently conducted the first stage of initiation, abruptly pulled away from the injured girl. Her face contorted with anger, she straightened to her full small height.
“Damn it! This male has neither intelligence nor quick wit! Master will skin me alive if the future concubine goes to Heaven…”
A short, frail woman in a scarlet leather outfit that openly flaunted her breasts, which were excessive for such a petite figure and hid almost nothing from below (thin threads did not contribute to this), shook her head in annoyance.
Now it is she who will have to personally conduct the final stage of initiation. The girl definitely cannot withstand the possession of a full-fledged demon, and sex males with predominant human characteristics, like the deceased, have already been distributed to other lands for today.
Licking her plump lips covered with scarlet lipstick, the woman again looked at the unconscious, tortured victim of unholy arbitrariness. They just had sex with her, and she was almost dying.
“Why are all witches so brittle before they turn? Has nature compensated for dormant supernatural abilities with initially poor health? Look, this miniature doll will crumble to dust and ascend directly to God. Lucifer is going to kill me! — a logical conclusion, however, which did not generate fear. The senior priestess believed too much in her own strength to lose the concubine of the Lord due to an unfortunate mistake by one of the servants. — It’s already good that before his death, the sex male did his job completely and implanted a mental fetus into the body of the chosen one. Less hassle.”
Taking a deep breath, the woman in red exhaled slowly through her nose. Being one of the five main priestesses, and there were a dozen secondary ones, she knew the rules and procedures of treatment well. She understood that she was enjoying the grace of the Lord as long as she performed her duties faithfully and with full dedication. If she stumbles or unwittingly does a favor to God by giving him another soul, the torments of hell will seem like heaven to her compared to the wrath of the Lord of the Damned.
Pushing her long, curly black hair behind her back, Velasquia surveyed the field of activity with a professional gaze. The victim is thoroughly torn in several places, has lost a lot of blood, is barely breathing, pale, and almost cyanotic. Already Deathushka was standing nearby and waiting for the little man to give up the ghost.
“I wouldn’t be who I am if I couldn’t summon Cerberus and use the dog’s breath to bring one of the Lord’s chosen ones back to life! I mentally typed it in. — Today is a special day and the dead are superfluous. — The priestess involuntarily glanced at the pile of ashes on the mat next to the bed and fierce hatred flashed in her eyes: — Except for sex males… May they all get fucked up!”
Velasquia turned eighteen when they came for her to be initiated many years ago. Then, from a romantic angel who believes in fairy tales and fairies, they created a cold, calculating monster out of her, who knows no compassion, but remembers her original self. She was not a witch, but she was chosen by the Lord himself. For unknown reasons, he replaced a respected priestess of the Temple named Vare, who died in those days.
The memories of her own initiation never left Velaskia. Especially those who returned in dreams, where the confusion of the past and present caused unimaginable mental pain. But as soon as I woke up, the darkness took over, and the painful “gone” retreated into the recesses of memory, which always remained at work. She might not want to, but sometimes she spontaneously remembered how she had been abused, and hated those who had done it. But she’s on duty now, and she shouldn’t be distracted. On a special day of the century, one’s own emotions are a hindrance to professionalism.
With a slow movement of her palms, stroking her body from her chest to her waist and pushing all unnecessary thoughts out of her head, the Priestess stepped forward. Bright green eyes flashed with analytical analysis.
In addition to the unawakened witch lying on the bed, today there were five more to be turned into concubines, three into high priestesses (that’s how many died over the last century), six into assistants to temple servants, about ten men into sex males and three into priests.
The time has come to join the ranks of the templars, as it has always been done once in a century.
I should have finished here faster and seen how the others were doing. It was only sixty minutes after midnight. There are still twenty—three hours of initiations ahead (prey was caught not only on the “Night of the Walpa,” but also during the day), and after that, weeks and weeks of sex training for converts. With the possible exception of concubines, they were always taken to the Dominion by the end of the day.
Sighing, the Priestess looked around the work front again.
“It’s time to take the witch away from the “Lady with the scythe” and let the owner have another fruit in various poses.”
Drawing a pentagram in the air and uttering an ornately intertwined spell consisting of words in several languages: hellish, divine and earthly, Velasquia summoned a three—headed dog, the guardian of the gates of hell.
Without even glancing at the attendant, the glossy black-furred dog approached the future concubine of the Lord, tilted one of its heads and exhaled a bluish steam. A misty curtain instantly covered the girl’s fragile body, only partially healing the wounds. At this stage, a fully healthy witch is the key to problems: then there will be no benefit from physical and magical manipulations. It was necessary to break the chosen one, physically and mentally, before she found herself in Vladyka’s bed, rather than favoring her excellent health and rebellious spirit.
Having done his job, Cerberus grinned and leaned back.
“Your mate screwed up,” he growled with displeasure, showering evil irony reflected in his gloomy eyes when he looked at the Temple attendant. — Watch your mutts more carefully. I don’t want to rise to the surface again in this uncomfortable cladding,” all the dog’s heads curled in contempt at the same time.
The priestess bowed, well aware of Cerberus’ displeasure. The real appearance of the guardian of the gate is different, but because of the image of the “three-headed dog” created by people, when crossing the borders of the worlds of hell and earth, he constantly had to match the mass imagination of small—minded people. There were certain laws that the inhabitants of Hell and Heaven obeyed on human territory.
“No more mistakes, I promise.”
—I’ll believe it,” almost ironically, and the next moment the three—headed dog disappeared.
Velasquia froze, clasping her hands in front of her face in a “prayer” gesture, and pressing her thumbs into her cheeks. She quickly whispered a spell, summoning the prisoner sealed in the “kant”, switching places with him at the time of the second initiation. And now, in front of the bed, there was already a real giant in a loincloth and a head encased in an iron mask.
Chapter 3. The Initiator
Released from the cave of the Abyss itself, Baigul climbed onto the bed. Spreading his legs wide on either side of the girl’s motionless body, resting his knees on the sagging mattress, he ran his tongue over his blood-red lips. Immediately, whitish droplets of the depraved potion that had been flowing in his blood since the dark transformation appeared on the surface. Leaning closer, the unkillable squeezed the contents from his flesh right into the half-open pale human mouth. Then, with a not particularly gentle kiss on the cold lips, he used his long tongue, which reached the reflex swallowing node, and forced the girl to take it in one convulsive gulp.
Whitish, slightly oily droplets rolled down the throat walls, leaving glowing traces, and falling into the stomach, they seemed to explode and rush back into an enveloping net, causing the girl’s body to tremble, breasts swelled, nipples fluttered — it came to life, ready to play a lascivious melody in experienced hands.
The female perineum contracted, and the clitoris, which was pulsating with currents, swelled. Her hips jerked up, demanding his attention, even though her mind continued to drown in a web of heavy dreams. The bestial thirst that flared up and itched in her overshadowed the pain of the previous copulation that her body had experienced, and now he only wanted to get rid of the gnawing lustful hunger.
The blatant invitation beckoned the unkillable to break in and hammer in again and again until the girl wakes up and sees who she is under. Who possesses it, who…
Baigul shook his head.
Possessiveness was repugnant to his nature and…
“It is necessary to blow up the witch’s psyche, drive her crazy with the realization of what happened…” sounded the long—standing instructions hammered into his transformation.
“Only a dead concubine is of little use to the master, and I have no pleasure from a cold half-corpse during personal games…”
Sliding her hand to the hairy bump between the slender female legs, the nimble hand of hell dived into the wet depths. Long fingers found the seal left by the sex man. Touching the clear edges, he activated the magical pentacle with a clouded mind, finally noting the anomaly: all initiates were usually conscious when the conversion took place, but now everything was different.
Catching the intoxicating scent of an aroused female body, Baigul forgot what he was thinking about.
The purpose of the first act of initiation was to break the human will, while the second was to create dependence on lust, to increase debauchery, in order to subjugate the spiritual component of the personality. Which was exactly what he was going to do, released for a short time to taste the sweetness of owning a still-sleeping witch.
As soon as the bluish grayness left her face and her lips turned red, Baigul got down to business. With his thumb sticking out the lower lip of the still dazed girl, he licked the corner of her mouth with his tongue, savoring the bitter-salty taste of sweat. A strong, muscular hand made its way to the crotch, fingers plunged into the wet grotto and then felt the warning breath of a mental serpentine embryo attached there.
Baigul growled, unhappy with the restriction. His pricked cock had already lifted his loincloth, striving for free possession, but it was impossible to damage the mark. He had to restrain himself, so far only with his fingers crumpling the dripping female folds, swollen, thirsty, so hot and sweet-smelling. The man trembled, and came only from this, flooding the naked female legs with reddish seminal fluid.
“Good,” he growled in his mind, excited again and ready to break in. Baigul pulled back a little and, propping himself up on his palms, looked through the slits of his metal mask with a longing gaze. He was attracted to this blonde with dark circles under her closed eyes, a beautiful, refined face, lips as opposed to large drawings and a neat nose. And the figure — no demon can resist. “It’s good,” a convulsive, lustful breath filled the dim room.”
Spreading the victim’s legs apart, Baigul moved closer. He positioned himself so that the head of the penis rested on the clitoris — the focus of sweet witch magic. With deft, strong fingers, he pulled the loincloth aside, tucked the edge into his belt, completely revealing the throbbing organ.
Wriggling appendages of various sizes burst out of the risen, twitching flesh and burst into the vagina of the future concubine: the shorter one was securely fixed to the surface, tightly locking both of them. Long harnesses, bristling with semicircular spikes, danced inside the female receptacle, stinging in motion and forcing the unconscious victim from prolonged voluptuous moans to unrestrained screams of wild, outright pleasure.
The female voice spurred on Baigul’s desire. Pressed against her clitoris, the head of the penis swelled even more, opening in the core while the appendages swelled inside the female vagina. Her being convulsively contracted, pulsated, sucked in, while its alien component, multiplied by many sensitive swollen appendages, beat inside the hot container, forcing the witch to respond, impaling on him again and again.
Throwing back her head and gasping for air, the blonde was trembling with unsatisfied hunger. My chest was burning. There was no consciousness. Goosebumps crawled over his sweaty skin. The beads of sweat on the woman’s skin twinkled like stars, reflecting the light streaming in from the hallway.…
Only the darkness is stronger and thicker, and fate is mired in darkness. With true malice, she looked at Baigul and the unawakened witch he initiated, who, once she realized what had happened, would want to die, but would not be able to. And he, a prisoner of the Abyss, deprived of freedom of choice and having long forgotten his real self, accelerated the movement of his appendages, which brought mutual communion to a wild orgasm that clouded the consciousness of both, did not realize that he had personally condemned her and himself to hellish torments.
Clutching the sheets with his fingers with his long claws abruptly extended, he tore them to shreds when, with a wild cry, he finished on the female clitoris throbbing under the head of the penis. A viscous stream, as if alive, rushed into the female bosom and flooded the seal with a pulsating scarlet glow — it instantly burst into lightning bolts, abruptly branching and piercing through the body of the initiate.
The twisted little serpentine fetus inside the marked concubine of the Sovereign slightly raised its head. His eyes reflected contentment and cruelty, which would soon make themselves felt. The human witch’s nature will be broken, and a different kind of nature will grow up instead.
Chapter 4. Lucifer
At the same time, a murderously dangerous and handsome brunette sat on the throne, squinting and propping his sharply defined chin on his palm, looking straight ahead. Several demons were frolicking with a fragile stray girl who had recently fallen into his possession for an imperfect murder (she was framed by a vengeful ghost, but the divine office, as always, did not understand the subtleties and passed the highest sentence).
The new soul had already become quite familiar to the infernal employees. In just a couple of days, Lucifer received many offers to borrow this little man for very specific pleasures.
Vladyka was not attracted to weak souls: shush, they will disperse, and then wallow in bureaucracy. However, without knowing why, he took an innocent convict under his wing as soon as she ended up in Hell. He took care of her, protected her, and allowed himself to be served without any conditions.
However, such a strange charity evaporated quickly and, for the sake of boredom, heeding the pleas of his subjects, he allowed a couple of screw-horned creatures and one personal friend to have fun with a stray one. I made a bet on raising my lousy mood. Only the victim, instead of enjoying the moment of such obvious interest in himself, resisted to the point of impossibility. And this is despite the bloodshot cock bursting into the overstretched mouth, while the other one significantly stretched her much lower.
Grunting, twitching in the desire to free his hands, which were roughly twisted behind his back and began to bruise, is an annoying and by no means amusing picture for Lucifer.
Why, you ask?
The Lord of the Underworld is not as sadistic as it was commonly believed. Sometimes he got a whim, too: he wanted a romantic flair and complete reciprocity, even if he was acting as an observer. And here one lousy guy was spoiling the whole picture with his desperate resistance. Instead of moaning with pleasure and begging for more, she kicked when she could and tried to bite the benefactors — especially the cock of one of them, who loved her mouth.
“Why are you fussing? They love you so completely and openly. What more do you need? What kind of people went? To them with all my passion, but still nothing! Annoyed, Vladyka scratched his cheek, continuing to watch the performance with increasing apathy. — Doesn’t the little one realize that with her aggression and disrespect for the needs of others, she’s signing her own death warrant? For the sake of appearances, what is it worth? Bend in the small of your back, bulge your butt to make it more comfortable for others, and then roll your eyes in ecstasy and roll your hips. Is it really difficult? You will please yourself and others. Accept such sparing infernal entertainment, since Heaven screwed up and sent you to Hell. Why make others angry? Lucifer squinted slightly, leaning forward in interest. “Or not just to anger?”
He studied Shiatsu, a close friend and loyal colleague, with close attention. Despite his recent interest in Zaletnaya, he did not participate in the orgy. He stood aside and stared unblinkingly at the resisting girl. Fully clothed, with a sense of superiority, the supreme demon looked at the tangle of naked bodies on the floor. It was the first time Fallen had seen him so intently thoughtful and a little detached.
The “red demon”, Shiatsu, the ruler of the fiery element of the underworld and its overseer, branded souls, loved bloody mush, and invented torture methods himself, which is why his technique of tormenting sinners had no analogues in cruelty. The Punisher was feared by the powerful of this world, everyone except Vladyka, who knew about the reasons that motivated his friend to tear everyone apart.
However, now in the Punisher’s gaze, directed at an innocent soul, there was neither satisfaction with her torment, nor the insidious gleam that appeared in anticipation of slow and brutal experiments on another test subject. There was tension bordering on rage in the frozen figure of the two-meter giant.
“Interesting,” thought the master of the world of sinners.
Leaning back on the stone back of the throne sewn into the rock, Lucifer condescendingly said:
— Maybe you will punish the “suicide bomber”? It’s a tedious picture. Primitive fuss, no solidarity. She’s small and can’t yell like a human, she just mumbles.
“She’s got her mouth full,— is the dry reply.
“No enthusiasm! What’s the matter with you, my friend?”
“What am I talking about?” No passion in the body at the age of twenty – it’s boring. Take it to your “workshop” and change this order of things. Next time, I want to see a moaning demoness willing to do anything to satisfy others. Hell knows, it’s already sickening to watch this travesty.
The “red demon,” so named not only for his fiery talents, but also for his skin color, squinted at Vladyka with his steel-cold, transparent gray eyes. The muscles in his petrified face twitched and froze.
“Call off your demons, then I’ll think about it,” he replied in a clear falsetto.
Shiatsu belonged to a breed of demons who didn’t give a damn about orders, he obeyed them if he saw fit, otherwise there was no other way, because he sought profit in everything without exception. The respect and reverence inherent in the subjects in relation to the ruler, he had never had.
However, Lucifer didn’t really care. He knew perfectly well that his friend’s loyalty was unconditional.
Shiatsu, as always, was dressed inconspicuously and humanly simply (had such a weakness): pale blue loose jeans, a white shirt unbuttoned to the middle on the chest, beige shoes on his feet. Lucifer himself preferred black, so straight-cut trousers, a formal shirt and dragonskin shoes added an intimidating gloss to his toned figure.
The Obsidian gaze collided with the unflappable gaze of the infernal executioner, who did not consider it necessary to repeat the demand twice, even if the Ruler looked at him with overwhelming grandeur and imperious steadfastness. He chuckled ironically.
Lucifer snapped his fingers, signaling to the others that the fun was over.
With displeasure on their almost bestial faces, the two flesh scavengers retreated, reluctantly obeying the order. Their full-length genitals caused a lot of inconvenience when walking, as they waddled out of the hall on slightly splayed legs. Surely, along the way, they will grab the first “mating” and show her the bright colors of real Hell.
“What do I care…”
Vladyka mentally brushed it off and directed his irrepressible interest in a different direction.
EPISODE-1
LUCIFER and HER
End of the introductory section.