Belly of the Beast

by Belly Of The Beast (Lit)

  A sound, almost of rejoicing, or triumph went up from the priests.

  A moment later, she felt hands touching her and her legs were unbound, her knees pushed from the stone so that the weight of her own body settled her more firmly over the hard shaft, sending a stab of pain through her that made her gasp. Her ankles were bound and chained to the floor—she thought. She only knew that her toes touched something that felt substantial. She could not reach it well enough to push herself up.

  The manacles around her wrists tightened and she realized that the chain had been attached to something behind her. She stretched her fingers and touched something cold and hard. It helped her to balance, though.

  The chain running through her clit and nipple rings tightened as it, too, was secured—in front of her.

  Despite the throbbing pain of being impaled on something far too large for her body, she almost felt a sense of relief. She had taken it inside of her without being ripped in two. The fact that they were binding her seemed to indicate that she would not have yet another, larger shaft forced inside of her.

  She knew that she could not have taken anything larger without being shredded. She was grateful that they had not tried.

  Although she couldn’t see them, she heard the priests moving around them as they began to dance almost frenziedly. Their chant became more like a song. The rhythm of the drum increased in pace.

  In time, when the pain of being impaled on the huge shaft had begun to subside to a dull throbbing, the icy caresses began once more. With determination they stroked and caressed her until her body began to respond. Heat built inside of her, spreading moisture through her channel soothing the residual pain from the thing that had been forced inside of her. They teased and sucked and licked at her until tremors began to run through her and when she began to gasp hoarsely, they suckled her breasts more frantically still until they brought her to culmination.

  The clenching of her body was excruciating. She screamed hoarsely as it rocked her almost endlessly. The moment she ceased to convulse, before her body could cool, they began prodding her body toward its peak once more. Within moments, her body began to spasm, clenching around the thing inside of her.

  The moment she began to cry out and shudder, they began tormenting her again. Each time they did, because her body never fell far from the edge, her body responded faster, culminating in seemingly endless convulsions of rapture.

  She had reached the point where she began to sway, felt blackness rushing up at her when the mask was abruptly torn from her eyes. She blinked, trying to adjust her vision. Slowly, her eyes focused and she stared down at the thing beneath her.

  She saw that she had been impaled on the cock of the stone demon, Annomiz.

  As she stared at the frightening image, she saw a ripple of movement. She blinked, certain her eyes were playing tricks on her that they had driven her mind past rational thought. When she opened her eyes again, she saw the thing moving. Slowly, as she watched in abject horror, she saw the Demon Annomiz sit up.

  His hands reached for her, grasping her hips.

  The priests scrambled forward, releasing her manacles.

  When they had freed her, he lifted her, bore her down again. She cried out, expecting pain, but her body was yet heated to the point of combustion and all she felt was a momentary discomfort and a rush of pleasure. As he began thrusting inside of her, her body skated upward again toward crisis. Within moments, she was shaking, and then screaming as waves of excruciating pleasure washed through her.

  Holding her impaled on his cock, he stood, moved to the altar, lay her down upon it and began thrusting into her, jolting her with each lunge, pounding into her until, at last, he went rigid all over, lifted his head and roared as his body pulsed with pleasure.

  Mariel felt the jerking of his cock, felt his fiery, hot seed spilling inside of her and lost her grip on consciousness.

  She came to when she was dipped into the bathing pool, looking around fearfully.

  She felt little relief, however, when she saw no sign of the stone demon.

  They would return her to him, she knew.

  She began to think that she’d been wrong after all when they did not take her to the offering chamber. Instead, they took her to a room much like the one at the previous temple. She saw as they thrust her inside, however, and closed the door behind her, that Annomiz lay sprawled on the pillows, awaiting her.

  "Come," he said in a low, growling voice.

  Inside, Mariel quaked. Her legs seemed to lose all tone, but she managed to walk toward him. When she knelt at the edge of he pillows, he leaned toward her, grasped the chains attached to her rings, and pulled until she moved closer.

  He examined her through narrowed, yellow eyes. "You are puny and weak… even for a human," he finally assessed her. "But your body pleases me. Your cries of pleasure please me even more."

  He pushed her down onto the pillows and began to suck and lick and bite her—sometimes almost to the point of pain, sometimes past the point of pain. She was nearly delirious with the pounding demands of her body when he spread her legs and thrust his cock into her.

  Her flesh yielded reluctantly, but his own body was more yielding now and the moisture of desire bathed her sex, allowing him to force his cock inside of her without the terrible pain she’d more than half expected.

  He brought her to crisis over and over, tirelessly pounding into her. She was barely conscious when he roared out his own pleasure.

  He allowed her to rest, a concession she would never have expected, but she sensed he feared he would break his plaything if he used her as he wished. She had no idea how much time passed, because she spent much of it in exhaustion or complete unconsciousness, but she thought he toyed with her for at least three days before he decided he was satisfied and allowed the priests to prepare her for the journey to the Temple of Efathziman, the man beast, the seventh and most powerful of the demons of Daeksould.

  When the priests had draped her in a sheer, white robe, Behsart led her away and they rode from town. She studied him surreptitiously when they stopped to break their fast.

  He did not seem angry and that worried her more than his anger had.

  She did not once catch him staring at her with the hunger she’d grown accustomed to seeing in the demon’s eyes and that worried her even more. After a few moments, when he seemed in no particular hurry to be on their way, Mariel settled on her side and began to play almost idly with one of the nipple rings through the sheer robe she wore—she hoped it looked unintentional anyway. "Do you think I have pleased the demons enough that they will allow me to keep my life?"

  When he didn’t answer at once, she glanced at him and caught him staring at her finger as it flicked the ring.

  He looked away. "They are pleased. Annomiz was not happy that he couldn’t fuck you more, but he concedes that, as a puny mortal, no more could be expected of you. You were wise to yield eagerly."

  Mariel looked down, plucking at the ring. "I could not help myself. I knew nothing of the pleasures of the flesh when you took me from my home. I had always believed that people only excused their failings—that they did not try to control their baser urges. Perhaps I was right, because, knowing that my life depended upon yielding willingly, I did not really try not to feel pleasure. And now it is almost as if my body has a mind and will of its own. When they touch those places that give me the most pleasure, I burn with the need to find release until I can not think of anything else."

  She heard him swallow convulsively.

  "I do not want to die. If I had had a choice, I would never have chosen to become the possession of the seven demons. I would have chosen only to belong to one…."

  She stopped herself before she said ‘man’, returning her attention to the ring. "I find the most pleasure when you possess me. I don’t know why, only that I do."

  He stood abruptly and dragged her to her feet. "We must go," he growled.

  She helped him gather the fe
w things he’d unpacked and followed him to the horse, standing quietly as he repacked the food, but leaning just close enough that his arm brushed her breast as he turned to lift her to the saddle. He stopped, watching the mound bounce.

  Finally, he grasped her and lifted her onto the horse. Mounting behind her, he spurred the horse into a gallop. She sat rigidly upright at first, but slowly began to lean back until she’d settled snugly against him. After a moment, his hand settled around her waist. She relaxed fully against him, satisfied that she’d made some progress, at least.

  When they stopped to make camp for the night, he surprised her by removing the manacles. She had worn them so long her arms felt strangely light without them. She rubbed her chaffed wrists, smiling up at him. "Thank you."

  His gaze flickered over her face, then dropped lower. After a moment, he rose and removed the bedroll, tossing it her. She untied it and spread it out next to the fire he’d built as he took the pack of food and the wine skin from the horse.

  When she’d finished smoothing the bedding, she settled on it crossed legged.

  Behsart stopped abruptly as she folded her legs, staring down at the clit ring that gleamed through the sheer fabric as it caught the light of the fire. After a moment, as if he was completely unaware of the lapse, he settled beside her and cut a portion of meat and bread and cheese for each of them. He stared at the fire while he ate.

  Mariel fell into thought, wondering why he’d released her when he’d never done so before. She would’ve liked to think that he might be unbending, or offering her an opportunity to run, but she knew better. More likely, he was testing her and if she failed, she would deeply regret it.

  When she’d finished eating, she brushed at the crumbs that had fallen into her lap and finally flapped the material of the robe, trying to shed them. Behsart was looking at her when she glanced toward him. She swallowed uneasily. "I need to relieve myself."

  He studied her unblinkingly for several moments and finally nodded. "Do not make me come for you," he growled when she stood. "You will not like it."

  She’d had no intention of trying anything. She wasn’t stupid. It wouldn’t take him ten minutes to run her down if he had been no more than a man. It was far less likely that she could escape a demon so easily.

  The warning made her heart flutter uncomfortably, however.

  She took care of her needs quickly and moved down to the stream, within his view, to bathe herself. Since she had nothing to dry herself, the robe stuck to her when she’d pulled it over her head once more.

  It was a minor discomfort beside many others she’d endured since her journey had begun, however. She moved back toward the fire, drying herself and the thin fabric with the heat wafting up from it before she moved to the pallet. Behsart seized her wrist and jerked her toward him so that she fell across his lap. She stared at him wide eyed, her heart thundering in her ears.

  After several unnerving moments, he released her. Rubbing her wrist, she moved meekly to the pallet and lay down, curling onto her side. He remained as he was, staring at the fire for some time. Finally, he rose and left.

  She lay tensely after he’d gone, listening for sounds of movement that would tell her where he was, what he might be doing. Finally, she heard the splash of water and knew that he’d moved to the stream to bathe. The splashing stopped after a time and she listened for his approach. He halted nearby, merely standing for many minutes and she supposed he was drying himself at the fire as she had.

  "Take it off."

  Mariel rolled onto her back and discovered he’d come to stand over her. She stared up at him blankly.

  "Now."

  Without a word, she sat up, grasped the robe and pulled it over her head. When she had laid it aside, she saw that he had knelt at her feet. Grasping her ankles, he tipped her onto her back, pushed her thighs wide and buried his face against her pussy. She gasped at the ferocity of his assault on the tender flesh, feeling fire course through her. Within moments she was gasping for breath, quivering, jerking as bolts of pleasure stabbed through her. When her crisis caught her, he lifted her hips and thrust his tongue inside of her. She screamed at the keen sensations that tore through her.

  Catching her arm, her dragged her upright and pulled her across his lap, thrusting into her. Heated delight surged through her still quaking channel at the invasion. She groaned, looping her arms around his neck as he guided her along the length of his shaft, thrusting upward and grinding against her clit each time she sheathed him to the hilt. Her muscles fisted tightly around him with each thrust until he began to groan, trembling as his body approached orgasm. Feeling his cock jerk as it neared ejaculation, Mariel’s body shot toward the summit, erupting fierily even as he came.

  He held her tightly as the tremors slowly dissipated, breathing harshly. Catching her hair, he dragged her head back and opened his mouth along her throat, sucking the tender flesh. After a few moments, she felt him growing hard inside of her once more. Twisting, he lay her down on her back and began the rhythm once more, moving slowly at first and then more quickly as his body began to reach toward the peak. As he began to shudder and jerk, he rolled onto his back, carrying her with him. Grasping her hips, he pushed her down on his cock, thrusting upward into her body until his seed spilled inside her once more.

  She lay draped limply across him for a time, too sated to consider moving. When she finally gathered the energy to move off of him, however, he wrapped his arms tightly around her, holding her. She subsided and within moments passed into oblivion, his cock still firmly inside of her.

  Chapter Nine

  Mariel didn’t quite know what to think of Behsart’s behavior. Having resisted the temptation to possess her for so long, it began to seem as if he’d simply accepted the inevitability of it. Before, he’d been both angry and fearful when he’d lost the battle and yielded to his lust. This time, when they faced the worst demon of all, he behaved as if he did not care what the penalty of disobeying might be. Instead of trying to hide the fact that he’d fucked her, he spent the days of their journey taking her at every opportunity, sometimes stopping along the way only to do so.

  She didn’t object, even though, to her vast disappointment, she could see no sign of Cavan—and she didn’t know what to think about that either.

  She did begin to worry about the consequences, however.

  If Efathziman was displeased with Behsart, would he not also be displeased with her? Would he destroy Behsart, freeing Cavan? Or would he destroy them both? Would he be displeased enough to demand her sacrifice after all, even though she had pleased the other demons and they were willing to allow her to keep her life?

  She didn’t try to question Behsart.

  He remained so unconcerned she began to wonder if there was any chance that he’d decided he would not take her to the temple, if he’d made other plans.

  She dismissed the thought almost as soon as it occurred to her, but it kept coming back as day after day passed and they did not reach the temple. After a time, she was able to put the fear from her mind for short periods of time, to simply enjoy his lovemaking, to allow herself to daydream about a future.

  On the morning of the fifth day, her hopes were completely dashed. They topped a rise at the edge of the forest and, in the distance she saw the temple of the most dreaded demon, the Demon Efathziman, the man beast.

  She glanced fearfully at Behsart. His face was grim, but otherwise she could tell nothing about his thoughts.

  A shiver skated through her as he kneed the horse and set it into motion once more. Dread seemed to mount inside of her with every mile they covered until she began to feel cold and ill.

  They reached the temple mid-morning. Again, Behsart left her with the priests and vanished. She was taken to the purifying pool and bathed, oiled, scraped and bathed again. When the priests had prepared her to receive, her hands were bound behind her back and a black hood lowered over her face.

  The moment the thing fell over her f
ace, blinding her, seeming almost to deafen her, as well, her blood ran cold with stark terror. She was only slightly reassured when she discovered that she could breathe without difficulty.

  She’d been blindfolded when she was taken to Annomiz and she didn’t want to know it the hood had been placed on her head for the same reason, or if this ordeal would be even worse.

  It took an effort to keep from blubbering in terror when they lifted her and carried her to the chamber. The dread did not dissipate as she was set on her feet. Instead, her stomach tightened even more. Her hands were unbound. Gripping her wrists tightly, the priests led her a short distance and then turned her and pushed her back against something solid. Lifting her arms out to her sides, they clamped manacles around her wrists once more.

  Despite her fear, puzzlement descended upon her when she realized that the ‘wall’ seemed to end somewhere along the middle of her back.

  Hands gripped her legs just above her knees and her legs were lifted and spread wide. For many moments, she hung from her arms while something almost as wide as the length of her thighs was wrapped around them. It was tightened, lifting her thighs wider and higher. The pain in her shoulders eased, but she thought the pain in her thighs might have overshadowed it anyway. Fingers parted her nether lips. Something hot, moist, and faint rough penetrated the mouth of her sex, startling a reflexive jerk from her.

  It was pushed slowly along her channel, almost as if it was exploring the cavity, until it touched her womb. After a few moments, it was withdrawn.

  The tension went out of her as it was removed. A few moments passed and then she felt fingers parting her flesh once more. Again, something hot touched her. This time, however, it was smooth, rounded, large and solid. She gasped, panting as it was pushed inside of her, stopping a hair’s breadth from her womb.

  It was so hot that for the first few seconds after it was pushed inside of her, fear surged through her that it would begin to burn. To her relief, although it felt hot inside of her, still there was no discomfort from the heat of it. Neither was it so large as to cause her pain, although the rigidity of it did produce some discomfort.