“COD, of course,” the hellephant said anxiously.
“We don't need no usual terms for no fifteen minute job!” Black yelled. “Fuck your COD! Make another offer."
But Klo had already come to her decision. “Yes, then. Usual terms. COD."
The hellephant made a motion like a bow. “Very good. Observe."
They observed. The creature faced about, stretched forth its trunk, harrumphed a few times, and began squirting hot liquid fudge against a section of the icewall. It was like the jet from a rusty fire hydrant. Brown fluid splashed away, but soon the heat and force of it ate a hole in the ice, and the hole grew steadily wider and deeper.
“I could have used that technique on the second branch,” Prior murmured appreciatively. “But when does he suck it up? I never saw him inhale."
“Keep watching,” Black said smugly. “The hellephant ain't no genius, but he's a good, honest craftsman."
The hole broke through the first rim, and the fudge disappeared down it, draining elsewhere inside that makeshift vagina. But the hellephant continued to blast it forth, still never taking a breath. Gradually the level of the pool subsided, revealing more of the elephantine body. The creature was squatting on the bottom, its hind end lowermost. It wore a G-string with a tiny patch in front. There was a turbulence around the base.
Finally the chocolate level dropped below the demon's torso, stranding the floating candle on a bar of brown ice. There was a horrendous sucking sound, as of three hundred bathtubs draining simultaneously: gunk, gunk, GUNK! Now Prior saw what was happening. The hellephant was sucking fudge into its rectum and spewing it from its trunk. No wonder the thing never took a breath. But the supply of hot liquid had been exhausted. There was only a bubbling puddle where the original hot spring operated, but it would take many days for it to fill the pool again.
The brown jet sputtered to a halt. The hellephant sucked wind, choked, then farted bellicosely from both ends, clearing its tubes. Caked chocolate shot out, the refuse from its filters, and plopped down like so many bushels of diarrhea. Clouds of chocolate-flavored mist enveloped demon and people. Prior gagged, knowing where it had come from, but he still had to inhale the stuff or suffocate directly.
“I believe the connection is complete,” the hellephant said politely. “Do you wish to verify it before making payment?"
“We'll take your word,” Klo said. She turned to the two men. “Well, I guess I won't be seeing you..."
“What do you mean?” Prior asked. “We have to stay together, or the robots will come and stop our mission."
“The robots'll never get past the hellephant,” Black said. “The demon gets very fussy about interruptions, once it starts."
“Once what starts?"
“She agreed to the usual terms, despite my advice,” Black said. “COD."
“Cash on Delivery,” Prior agreed. “Sure. I'm not stupid. And I'll pay her back what it costs."
“You can't,” Klo said.
“Not C.O.D., turd,” Black explained. “COD. As in cod-piece. He's the cod, she's the piece. Only more so, in the case of the hellephant. Much more so."
“Precisely,” agreed the demon, removing the eyepatch from its crotch. Underneath was a tiny penis, proportionately—no more than eight or nine inches.
“COD—Cunt on Delivery,” Klo said. “Everyone knows that.” She splashed into the pentagram, removing her chocolate caked clothing.
“The hellephant only fucks once a century,” Black explained. “But he makes that one count. He prefers human females, because they're comfortable, they don't have frigid cycles, and they live a fair spell. Most animals only get hot every so often, and are pretty uptight when not in heat."
“Yeah, I saw two dogs stuck together once,” Prior said. “If that's what you mean by uptight. So the hellephant's fornication kills them? With a trunk like that, I'm not surprised."
“Of course not. He doesn't use his trunk for that. The hellephant is always polite and gentle—that's why most female demons won't touch him."
“Makes sense,” Prior admitted, remembering what bitches the female demons he had encountered were. But he still wasn't clear on the nature of the deal Klo had made.
Klo reached the creature and lifted her chocolate arms. The hellephant curled its trunk carefully around her body and brought her in close. She scissored open her legs, and the demon's little member pushed up and in, not stopping until it was completely embedded. There was no panting, no preliminary byplay; just that matter-of-fact coupling, lubricated by liquid chocolate.
“Well, let's move on before the pool fills up again and covers our tunnel,” Black said.
“Right now? In a moment that intercourse will be over. He's already all the way into her."
Black laughed. “It'll be a long moment, whiteass. Why do you think I tried to warn her off? The hellephant fucks for life—and she could live to seventy or eighty."
Prior gasped. “You mean—they won't stop? Until she dies of old age?"
“That's what I was hinting at, pale-prick. She'll eat, sleep and shit right there—and that cock will never pull out.” He watched a moment more, then shrugged, accepting it. “She made the deal. She didn't have to, so she must have wanted it that way. Actually, I hear it's a mighty comfortable living for those who like COD. Cock onto Death, some call it. A pretty fair burial, too—the hellephant only comes when there's nothing left worth waiting for, when the fuck is falling apart, maybe two months after death. Then he creams up a storm and buries the bones in it. That's what I call a real send off—to be buried in your lover's cream."
“Yes indeed,” Prior agreed, shaking his head.
They left the lovers to their stasis as the fudge spring bubbled up around them, starting the tedious business of refilling the pool.
Chapter 27—Third Branch
The fudge had cooled and hardened, leaving an opaque tunnel into the bowels of the mountain. And bowel was what the brown-caked tube resembled. Despite the solid ice under the solid chocolate, the air was reasonably warm here, and by walking swiftly they were able to keep comfortable without clothing. Prior carried his sodden outfit in a wadded ball under his arm, hoping to rinse it eventually in some clear soda stream. Where there was one hot spring, there might be others.
No such luck. The passage debouched into a system of icy caverns. Red stalactites hung from the vaulted ceiling, and similar stalagmites rose to meet them, like sets of teeth slowly closing. Prior broke the tip off a small one and touched his tongue to it. “Cherry,” he said, noting the concentric rings of ice like the growth-rings of trees. “We're in the Orchard, all right."
“Well, get your rod hot,” Black said, shivering. “Once we meet up with those three other branches—"
Prior nodded nervously. Fate kept impelling him forward into this challenge, despite his willingness to slide backward. He had vanquished the first two guardian demons—but how would he handle three at once? The moment he reamed one, another would be reaming him. But he had to make the effort, now that Klo had given her all for the cause. All her vagina.
The cavern passages led generally down, and fortunately they did not become killingly cold. Perhaps there were hot springs here, after all, melting new passages and imbuing the entire system with some warmth. But Prior didn't like the direction.
“How can we find the Tree, if we don't get to the top?” he demanded, trying to sound more upset than he felt. He didn't want to be trapped in here, but if they really couldn't find those malevolent demons—
“Tree's got to be in the orchard, whitepiss. Keep moving."
Unfortunately Black was correct. They traversed a cherry tunnel, stepped into a dull red chamber, and came up against a demon.
It was large and male, but its penis was stubby. “Who the potash are you?” it snorted menacingly, evidently disturbed from some private contemplation, as its erect and throbbing member indicated.
Prior knew he had either to stand up or turn tail—and he was af
raid to present his backside to this demon, knowing what he knew of the propensities of these creatures. So with the courage of last resort he said: “I'm Prior Gross—and I've come to climb the Cherry Tree."
The demon frowned down at him, pulling on its penis reflectively. The organ jogged in and out like a telescope. “Have you any last wish before I dilate your puckered little ass?” it asked in the tone of a firing officer beside an execution wall.
“Just let me arm myself.” And Prior drew forth the prehensile unit.
The demon charged. Prior had forgotten that there was no pentagram to hold it back, and of course the infernal creature had no conception of fair play. The bundle of chocolate-stiffened clothing flew out of his grasp and he found himself hoisted in the air, his member unattached. The serpent dangled from his hand uselessly.
“I haven't fucked a mortal into oblivion in years!” the demon cried zestfully. “But I wish you'd had the common courtesy to be female. Cunt is so much more lubricious than colon."
“Same to you, cherry branch!” Prior gasped, struggling to reach the floor and get some purchase. If he could just gain time to fasten on his member and whip it up into fighting condition! “Think I like to dirty my member on supernatural shit?"
“You need have no fear of that with me,” the demon said, chuckling. For a moment it wavered into the cherry-branch format, but its grip on Prior did not loosen.
“You're overconfident,” Prior said, feeling underconfident. “I defeated the first two branches, you know."
“That so? They were weaklings.” And this demon's strength did indeed seem greater. It threw Prior down flat, put a bark-hard knee in his back, and limbered up that horsehung penis. It had not been, after all, completely erect before.
Prior's own member was still in his hand. He brought it down and shoved it under his hips, scratching for the vital connection. But he was face down with weight on his torso, and he couldn't get it attached without more leeway.
The demon poked a woody finger between Prior's buttocks.
“Let's see your touch-hole, runt. If it isn't big enough, I may have to widen it, ha-ha!"
“Ha-ha!” Prior echoed heavily. He tried to defecate on the demon's hand, but the position was wrong and nothing came out. Instead the probing finger got inside and scraped cruelly at the tender mucous membrane.
“I believe it will fit,” the demon murmured with satisfaction, “after I enlarge it a trifle. Scream, please—this is going to hurt.” Prior clenched his sphincter as tightly as possible, as the demon brought its loin down and began expanding its member. The greasy tip of it slobbered along Prior's scrotum before centering accurately on his hole. The demon pushed.
The muscle held. “Fucking position's wrong,” the demon said, annoyed, but not completely dismayed by this challenge. It put bark-rough hands against Prior's hips and lifted his rear.
At first Prior resisted, stiffening his body. Then he realized that this was an opportunity for him. He bent in the middle, bringing his knees up under him while his hand jammed the prehensile member onto its socket and twisted it into place.
“Excellent,” the demon said, breathing on Prior's elevated rectum. “An extraordinary neo-virginal asshole! You must really have saved it for me! I like this attitude. It makes it so much easier when you cooperate. Now we'll just fasten you in place—” It muttered an obscure pornographic spell, and Prior found himself invisibly clamped where he was. He could not budge head, arms or legs.
This demon was tough, all right. The others hadn't used magic on him. But Prior still had control over his sphincter. Probably the spell had to exclude that, or it would have been frozen closed, and be impenetrable.
Meanwhile his attached member was swelling rapidly. So the entire genital region was free, as well as his eyes and mouth. The battle wasn't over yet.
“Easy does it,” the demon said, making itself comfortable behind Prior, dog-fashion. “First a little choice lubrication—” The ugly face moved down, and the huge canine tongue slurped over Prior's crack, wetting it down thoroughly with gooey saliva. “You've been consuming too much chocolate!” the demon complained.
“So what's wrong with healthy brown chocolate?” Prior demanded, momentarily gratified. So maybe he had gotten a little fecal matter out, and the demon had licked it up. Served it right!
“Cherry is better, as I shall shortly demonstrate.” The demon chuckled. “Get that? demon-strate.” But it became serious again when Prior did not laugh at the pun. “So you're still fighting it? Then we'll just brace against the portal and slide in a bit when it relaxes, so.” And that slimy skinned-wood penis shoved, not hard but very firm and steady.
Prior kept his sphincter clenched, but the muscle was tiring. He remembered how starfish opened clams by exerting steady pull on the shells, until the clams could no longer hang on. In time that insistent pressure would wear him down, and he knew he would have no chance once the outer defense had been breached.
But Prehensile was finally ready. What luck that he had selected this particular organ this time! Prior curled it down between his legs, out of sight of the demon, then under his own hanging testicles, across behind those of the demon, and up. It looped in a three-quarter circle back toward the demon's rectal region. He was about to attack from the rear.
Now came the ticklish part. He had to make a good entry on the first thrust, before the demon realized what was happening. If that failed he would not have another chance, because his leverage was weak and his own rectum was on the verge of yielding.
Get ready ... get set ... THRUST!
Prehensile lunged forward, a striking snake, aiming blindly but with pretty good judgment for the supernatural anus. The azimuth and elevation and orientation were almost perfect; Prior felt the glancing contact of thorny buttocks, the bald alcove between them, the base of the crevice. He was driving for a hole-in-one!
Except—
Where was the aperture?
Up and down the veneer-polished crack Prehensile undulated, seeking its entrance—and there was none. From balls to back-bone, the demon's bottom was sealed.
“Ha-ha!” the creature bellowed. “Thought you'd pull a fast one, eh? Well get this, dimwit: I saw your friggin’ worm, I let you put it on, and I near busted out laughing. You can't get me with that! Know, oh mortal—I have no asshole! You can shove and slither all you want—you can tickle me but you'll never nudge my shit!"
It was all too true. Prior was sunk. The demon had only been playing with him, letting him think he had a chance.
“That little torment was for fucking my innocent little brother out of existence,” the demon gloated. “Now I'm going to get even for what you did to my precious little sister, she of the small sweet ripe cherry."
It brought its hulking head around, at the same time cuffing Prior's frozen body sidewise. Its face was grotesque: tiny near-spaced eyes whose whites were blood-red (technically, cherry-red), purplish wiry hair, monstrous flaring nostrils, pointed ears, and a chin whose cleft surface sported two sprawling hairy warts.
But it was the mouth that horrified Prior. The lips were black and blotchy, peeling back to expose jagged animal teeth.
“You tried to ram my rectum, touch my twat,” the demon said. “Well now you can fuck my face.” It crunched those devastating dentures together loudly. “See—I'm giving you more chance than you ever gave my mistress!"
“I thought she was your little sister,” Prior said, his eyes following the thing's clacking jaws. His poor member would have no chance at all in a beartrap like that. But he could not move even one hand to shove the mouth away or disconnect Prehensile.
“Same thing. It doesn't count when it's all in the family. Not that I ever could quite get into her tail, in man-form. In flea-form it was possible, but then it wasn't much fun."
If he whipped Prehensile aside, Prior thought, those jaws would follow, playing cat and mouse until there was no further room to retreat. No doubt that was what the demon wanted. Bu
t if he detumesced it, he would still be disarmed.
The Cherry Branch meant to bite off Prehensile, then sodomize Prior at leisure while he bled to death. And there was nothing he could do to prevent it.
“Use your bleached gray matter, whiteface!” Black called from a safe distance. “Is that the best you can do? I thought you were a real fucker!” And the big Negro blew his nose disdainfully.
Black wasn't even a fair-weather friend. He had expressed nothing but contempt for Prior all along. Now he was rubbing it in. Blowing his ebony nose, while Prior was getting demonically chewed and screwed.
Nose...
The demon's breath was hot upon Prior's scrotum. The huge teeth hovered near the quivering glans. The mouth came down, smiling evilly. Slowly, slowly, tantalizingly slowly...
Think ... real fucker ... nose...
Prior launched Prehensile forward, a rattlesnake. The tip bounced off the demon's stubby chin, scratched nauseatingly against the hairy warts, skated over the slimy upper teeth scraping away a channel of smegma-like plaque deposit, skidded on the cleft of the mottled upper lip....
And plunged at last into the gaping left nostril.
“Oomph!” the demon cried, jerking back.
But Prehensile followed, thrusting deeper, wedging a passage through the caked snot inside. Three inches, four, five! The force of it slammed the demon's head back against Prior's raised knees, stopping the retreat.
Six inches, and he was well settled in the sinus cavity, warm and soft and slick. “Go, go, go, gonads!” Prior grunted.
In and out his faithful penis thrust, heating the membranes by the friction of its travel while the demon howled and clawed futilely at it. Then the Cherry Branch got belatedly smart: took a deep breath, pinched shut its other nostril, closed its big mouth, and prepared to blow its nose violently. This was a blow-job that would finish Prior—
Suddenly the spasm came, sending its fluid coursing along the winding hose and into the demon's pressurized sinus.
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