Evil shunted in, straight into a hole that was unslick, unstretched, and unprepared. Bawling, flailing while tears fell, she screamed, “You are my God!”
The creature tearing her ass apart roared. It was not the sound of a man in pleasure, but a demon set free from the abyss. Unwilling to turn her head, she imagined great wings had spread behind her tormentor to beat the air as he pulled her down that blood-stained cock.
The damage was extensive, for the devil had been unshackled.
He claimed his due from her flesh.
A single, worthless soul.
One that God had rejected long ago. One that was treasured by a monster who relished perverting love into pain.
Empty of hope, full of cock.
That was how she died inside. Any proselyte knew there would be no forgiveness in the eyes of the Lord for this.
The flesh agreed, twisting up around the pulsating intrusion. Her cunt fluttered, opening up like a little mouth seeking a sweet kiss. The nub at the top of her sex throbbed as if an overripe berry near bursting.
Despite how he ravaged her hips, it was her touch that found that pulped flesh and dove in to fill the empty hole. He bellowed a sickening laugh to see little fingers play.
When she came, it was while riding a scream of pain.
He sprayed white globs of stinging grossness so far inside her, it would linger like a stain she could never push out.
What had she done?
On fire, pinned under the weight of a monster lazy with slaked lust, her tears fell hot and free.
At last that organ was shrinking, slowly worming its way out of her ass. But the mark he’d made on her, the blasphemy he’d drawn from foolish lips would never seep out, no matter how many holes she tore in her flesh.
“I am lost…”
Filth crusted nails raked her chin, forcing her to twist her neck at an impossible angle so that one large blue eye might find his devious smile. “I so ador—”
The floor dropped out from under them, and with an earsplitting crash, dust and debris snowed down upon her room. It was as if the earth itself shook, as if it worked its jaws, intent on devouring the vampire whore and the beast panting on her back.
“HE WOULDN’T DARE!” Darius pulled away, careless of the damage he caused, or the detritus that followed the path of his dick from her anus. Once on his feet, the ground wrenched again, almost upsetting the devil’s balance. “You.” Turning his fury on the bleeding woman soiling the coverlet. “Stay there! This insurrection will be crushed at once.”
Through tears, Pearl saw the air bend, distort, and Darius, the devil she’d named as her God, vanished.
It would be easy to say that the rocking of the earth which sent her candelabras toppling over was a sign of her salvation. It would be easy to claim divinity smiled upon her.
It didn’t.
In fact, no one came to smile, threaten, bleed her, or denounce.
Hours she lay under a ceiling that dusted her room in a fog of ancient dirt. In that time her body mended.
Darius did not return.
One by one the candles began to flicker and wane. All the soft golden light of her cell faded, snuffed out to scent the air with a wisp of smoke. It was not until the last three had almost met their end that Pearl found the will to rise from the bed. New tapers were lit, and had she been wiser, she would have rationed her meager supply.
Rocking herself in the shadowy room, surrounded by fine paintings, by jewels, by sumptuous furnishings and a tub grown cold, she saw the cell for what it was.
A tomb.
Her tomb.
Days passed, Pearl sleeping anywhere but the soiled bed.