Devil in the Deep Blue Sea

by A. J. Markam

  “Can’t wait,” I mumbled.

  As we were about to exit the rear of the house into a courtyard outside, a woman walked in and bumped into me.

  “Oh!” she cried out, and stumbled backwards.

  I stared at her.

  She was beautiful – and green.

  Smooth skin the color of lime sherbet. Dark green hair the color of pine needles, but smooth and luxurious.

  A nymph!

  She was wearing a black and white French maid’s outfit that emphasized her curvaceous body.

  There was no France in OtherWorld, and they didn’t speak French, but they had apparently had French maid outfits because – duh – sexy as hell.

  As soon as she bumped into me, the nymph looked in terror at Zali, then whispered, “Forgive me,” and ran away down the hall.

  “Who is that?” Alaria asked, and I could hear that horny Break me off a piece of THAT! tone in her voice.

  “She ees my servant.”

  “She works for you?” I asked.

  Zali shrugged. “She works, yes.”

  “I thought the Naga were at war with the nymphs.”

  “They are.”

  “So how’d she get here?”

  “The captain of the guard captured her from the marauding armee, and was kind enough to give her to me to work as a domestic.”

  “So she’s a slave,” I said angrily.

  “Are we not all slaves to our obsess-ee-ons?”

  “She’s not a slave to her obsessions, she’s a slave to you.”

  Zali shrugged. “I am a warlock. What can I do?”

  “Ian freed the slaves of Abaddon,” Alaria said.

  “So I have heard!” Zali clapped me on the back. Well, more like the lower back, he was so short. “You must free the neemph after you keel me! But first – first you must see my obsess-ee-on, and then you weel understand. You weel understand everytheeng.”

  “Fine,” I muttered. “Let’s go see your obsession.”

  That was a sentence I quickly came to regret.

  9

  Zali led us out the back of the house and into the giant, open space that we had seen as we swam towards the city. Turns out the vast expanse was a sculpture garden.

  Just not any sort of sculpture I’d ever seen before.

  Actually, I’d never seen anything like it, except in some really messed-up anime.

  Take one part hentai… three parts regular porn… two parts sacrilegious iconography… a dash of Hieronymus Bosch… throw in some centaurs for good measure… and blend until you had a frothy mix of fucked-up-ness, served piping hot.

  Every single thing appeared to be made out of pure white marble, or some other kind of white rock.

  The vast majority of statues appeared to be succubi and incubi, although there were a few other types of mythic creatures here and there. All of the succubi and incubi had carved marble collars on them.

  Made sense, I guess. Zali was a warlock, so he would probably sculpt demons the way he wanted them – enslaved.

  The sculptures looked incredibly realistic. I’m talkin’ super realistic. Down to areola stippling ‘n shit.

  The succubi were all hot, even if their beautiful colors had been reduced to pale white. And the marble incubi were all jacked and ripped male models, with erect members bigger than a summer sausage.

  First up was the forest of tentacle porn.

  At least half a dozen pure-white succubi were held aloft in the air by giant tentacles carved out of marble.

  By the way, the tentacles were all basically freakishly long penises that curved through the air like serpents or nightmarish vines. Big bulbous heads on the ends of veiny, 20-foot-long shafts bigger around than your wrist.

  The penis tentacles were wrapped around the succubi’s ankles, wrists, and waists… and were poised to penetrate every available hole, sometimes two at a time.

  I’m talkin’ DVDA – ‘double vaginal, double anal’ for those of you who aren’t porn aficionados.

  There was also some DO, or double oral. (I don’t know if that’s actually a thing, but it was now.)

  Tentacle porn is pretty standard fare in fucked-up Japanese anime, but it’s kind of shocking to see it in 3D right next to you.

  The only odd thing (you know, other than it being a life-sized depiction of tentacle porn) was that none of the women was actually being penetrated. The tentacles were right there at the doorway, but they hadn’t gone inside yet.

  Odd.

  Next we moved on to a little regular porn to cleanse the palate.

  A single succubus kneeling in the middle of a circle of incubi, her hands on two of the guys’ schlongs, her mouth poised in front of another, about to take the swollen head between her open lips.

  A succubus in a threesome, straddling one incubus with another right behind her, about to take one cock in her pussy and another in her ass.

  An incubus standing in front of four kneeling succubi, their dainty hands and white tongues just millimeters away from his massive cock.

  A succubus on all fours, her mouth open, about to make the ‘wobbly H’ with an incubus standing in front of her and another about to penetrate her from behind.

  A succubus lying spread-eagle on a table, another succubus kneeling between her thighs, about to give her cunnilingus. Seven incubi stood around the lying women, hands gripping their junk, caught for eternity mere seconds before they were about to shower her bukkake-style.

  I noticed that with every single statue, the demons were almost at the point of penetration or touching or licking, but not quite.

  Except for the fisting section.

  Jesus, the fisting… those poor succubi… my asshole hurt just to look at it.

  Speaking of Jesus, next up was the blasphemy exhibit.

  A dozen 15-foot-tall marble crosses rose up from the sandy seafloor. They weren’t regular Christian crosses, though; the horizontal arms were raised up at a 30-degree angle, sort of like an inverted peace symbol (minus the circle around it).

  God Jr. wasn’t up there on any of them, either. Or the Good Thief. Or that other dude who made the spectacularly bad mistake of dissing Jesus right before he died. (Yeah, I wonder what happened to him in the afterlife.)

  Nope, it was all hot, naked succubi – thankfully tied to the crosses with sculpted marble ropes on their wrists and ankles rather than impaled with spikes.

  Of course, some of them were on the verge of getting impaled – just with a tongue or a marble pork sword. Yup, every single cross had two crucifixes: some women, some men, but all arranged in a 69 position, tongues positioned over pussies, open mouths about to swallow massive cocks.

  If the Catholic church employed that kind of iconography, I’m sure they could get a whole lot more 18-29 year-old dudes into mass every Sunday. Probably a whole lot more married men, too.

  Anyway… yeah. Multiple 69s on a stick. I’m sure the Pope woulda loved it.

  Then there was the BDSM portion, with every conceivable form of bondage and light torture you could imagine. A whooooole lot of marble whips and paddles and nipple clamps in that one.

  There was a Hieronymus Bosch-inspired section with incubi being crushed between giant, disembodied asses… succubi hugging 10-foot-tall marble penises as big around as an oak tree… and incubi and succubi licking and massaging a 12-foot-tall vagina with a clit as big as a beach ball.

  And I’m not even going to go into the marble-sculpted Cleveland steamers, dirty Sanchezes, or gay porn.

  I moved through the garden in a kind of awestruck horror – both at what I was looking at, along with the fact that I was kinda, sorta uncomfortably turned on by some of it.

  Okay, a lot of it.

  Not the Cleveland steamers, though.

  Or the dirty Sanchezes.

  Or the gay porn.

  The most astounding part? Even though I’d just seen more three-dimensional porn than I ever had in my entire life, the outdoor arena was only a fourth full. There were still d
ozens of acres of open, sandy seafloor.

  We ended the tour next to a ‘water installation’ – a fountain you probably weren’t going to see anywhere other than on the private estate of a dirty old millionaire. A gleeful marble faun on a pedestal peed a parabolic arc right into the open mouth of a naked stone succubus. The overflow trickled down her face into a circular stone pool, where she knelt submerged up to her waist.

  Did I mention that the water was yellow-colored?

  Yeah.

  It’s the little touches that really make something ‘art.’

  How the fuck Zali got liquid to travel in a parabola through seawater was a mystery to me, but, hey, he was a warlock.

  I shuddered to think what else his powers entailed.

  Strangely enough, at the base of the faun’s pedestal was a table with a silver tray and four champagne flutes.

  “Well?” Zali asked as he picked up a champagne flute and held it up so it interrupted the airborne (waterborne?) stream of liquid, filling up the glass.

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” I screamed, my eyes bugging out of my skull.

  “Geeetting you a dreenk!” Zali said affably as he held out the glass to me.

  “WHAT THE FUCK, DUDE?!”

  Zali looked around in confusion. “Who ees ‘Dude’?”

  “He means you,” Alaria said in a bored voice.

  “It’s an expression,” Stig said in an equally bored voice.

  “But I am not ‘Dude’ – I AM ZALI!” he said, throwing one hand theatrically up into the air.

  Unfortunately, it was the hand holding the glass.

  Yellow liquid splashed out in the air –

  Water –

  Whatever –

  Towards me.

  I instantly jumped back ten feet like that shit was acid, let me tell you. “AAAAAH!”

  Zali looked at the now half-empty glass.

  “Do not worry, Ee-an… I weel get you more,” he said, and topped off the glass in the faun’s eternal yellow stream.

  Then he offered it to me again.

  “I’M NOT GOING TO DRINK PEE!” I yelled at him.

  “What, you theenk this ees…?” Zali trailed off, then laughed uproariously. “No, my freend, I am a voyeur. I create… I do not partake. Thees ees champagne!” he said, pronouncing it as sham-PAHN-ya!

  “Oh HELL yes,” Stig said.

  My imp jumped up in the air like a dog, grabbed the glass out of Zali’s hand, and chugged whatever was left in the champagne flute as soon as he landed.

  “Dude, don’t drink that!” I yelled at him.

  “Oh, he ees ‘Dude’!” Zali said, as though he finally understood.

  “No, I’m Stig,” my imp said to Zali, then looked back at me. “It’s good, boss!”

  “Just – OH, GROSS!” I yelled as Alaria filled her own glass and took a sip.

  “It actually is champagne,” she told me.

  “YOU WERE WILLING TO TAKE THAT CHANCE?”

  She shrugged. “Why not? I’ve had to do it for real before, so – ”

  I threw my arms out in horror to shut her up. “OH MY GOD – ”

  “Wheech one?” Zali asked innocently as he filled up another glass. “Here, my freend!”

  “STOP – I don’t want that – STIG!”

  I looked over in horror to see Stig perched on top of the marble succubus’s head, leaning out like a gargoyle on a cathedral’s buttress, letting the golden flow of liquid splash directly into his mouth.

  “GET DOWN FROM THERE!”

  “Awwww,” he pouted, withdrawing his mouth.

  “No, no, eet ees fine!” Zali said. “Dreenk, my leetle friend, dreenk!”

  “Okay,” Stig said, and stuck his whole face into the flow.

  “Jesus FUCKING Christ!” I snarled.

  “Oh ho, thees Jeeesus sounds like my kind of god!” Zali said, and lifted a glass into the air. “Cheers!”

  I stood there in disgust and horror as Zali, Alaria, and Stig all drank.

  “You are sure you do not want some sham-PAHN-ya?” the hatchetfish asked me.

  “NO. NO, I DO NOT.”

  “Goddess, it’s just champagne,” Alaria said with a roll of her eyes.

  “WELL, I DON’T LIKE THE WAY IT’S DISPENSED.”

  “Your freend – I theenk he has a stick up his pulchritudinous buttocks,” Zali whispered loudly to Alaria.

  “Unfortunately, that’s the ONLY thing he’ll let up there,” she snickered.

  “Oooh, oooh – I should sculpt that,” Zali murmured. “Hees pulchritudinous buttocks about to be forcibly pee-nee-trated by a – ”

  “STOP!” I yelled. “Just – STOP!”

  “Fine,” Zali sighed, then smiled eagerly. “What deed you theenk of my art?”

  “Blblb-tasty,” Stig burbled through the arcing stream of liquid.

  “It’s pretty fucking perverted,” I muttered.

  “YES! YOU UNDERSTAND!” Zali cried out, his hands gesturing towards me as though I was the single soul in all of creation who really got him.

  I just arched one eyebrow and stepped back slowly.

  “What about you, my succulent muse?” Zali asked Alaria.

  She sighed. “Well…”

  “…yes…?”

  “I absolutely hated when you used to make me pose, but…”

  “…yessssss…?”

  She glowered. “I’ve got to admit, it’s pretty fucking hot.”

  “YES! HA HA!” Zali crowed.

  “Ew,” I said, wincing at her.

  “Oh, spare me, Mr. ‘I’ve Got A Pup Tent In My Pants,’” she shot back at me.

  “Haha! Meester ‘Pup Tent Een My Pants’!” Zali cackled.

  “That was just in the regular porn section!” I protested, blushing furiously. “And a little in the tentacle porn part… and maybe the crosses…”

  “I think it was most of the time, boss,” Stig offered helpfully, taking his mouth out of the parabolic yellow stream just long enough to inform me of my error.

  “YOU SHUT UP,” I yelled at him.

  Stig just shrugged and went back to drinking.

  Then a new voice I’d never heard before spoke up – a woman’s voice.

  “Zali, can I move while the imp is drinking? Please?”

  I looked around in alarm for the source of the voice. On the very last word, I realized that it was the fountain succubus statue’s lips that had moved.

  She was alive.

  “AAAAAAH!” I screamed as I stumbled away from her.

  “No, you may not move!” Zali yelled at the statue.

  Right behind me, another new voice spoke up. “Or can you at least let him fuck me?! Just for a second?!”

  A man’s deep voice added, “PLEASE!”

  I turned around to see a succubus on all fours, her ass in the air, an incubus right behind her, his engorged member poised just a millimeter away from her pussy.

  But I noticed something else for the first time.

  The succubus’ pussy was dripping wet with beads of lubrication… and the wetness had removed some of the white coloring over the lips.

  Red, wet skin shone through.

  She wasn’t carved out of marble.

  She was merely coated in some kind of white paint.

  WHAT

  THE

  FUCK?!

  “Just let him put it in me once,” the succubus moaned.

  “Just the tip!” the incubus pleaded.

  “NO!” Zali yelled.

  “Holy fuckin’ shit,” I whispered as I stared in shock.

  “YES! Ho-lee fucking sheet!” Zali whooped. “Now you understand!”

  “They’re ALIVE?! ALL of them?!” I asked in horror.

  Zali looked mystified. “Of course.”

  “I thought you SCULPTED them!”

  “I deed! I create LEEVING sculpture! FOR I AM ZALI!” he cried out as he thrust one hand into the air again.

  “How long have you had them frozen like that?!”
<
br />   Zali shrugged. “Years.”

  “YEARS?!”

  I suddenly felt horrible about every time I’d pitched a pup tent over the last 20 minutes.

  “I take back what I said about it being hot,” Alaria said. “You’re pure fucking evil, do you know that?”

  “Tee-hee!” Zali giggled, like a naughty three-year-old caught after he’d eaten all the cookies from the cookie jar.

  “I’m serious!” Alaria scowled. “To have a succubus poised on the edge of orgasm for years is cruel and unusual!”

  “You know no-theeng about art!” Zali yelled at her.

  Alaria leaned over and got right in his three-foot-tall hatchetfish face. “I WAS art, you fucking asshole!”

  Zali pouted for a second… then relented. He turned back to the succubus and incubus almost doing it doggy-style and sighed. “Alright, alright… just the teep.”

  The succubus and incubus both looked elated – and then the incubus leaned forward two inches and eased his swollen head between the succubus’s wet lips.

  They both came immediately.

  The incubus’s orgasm was pretty obvious, as you would expect, since his entire shaft engorged and deflated in split-second bursts – but I could literally see the succubus’s pussy contracting around the crown of the incubus’s cock.

  “OHHHHHHHH!” the succubus shrieked.

  “GAAAAAAAH!” the incubus roared.

  Zali started angrily stamping the ground with one foot like an ichthyoid Rumpelstiltskin. “AAAAH! You SEE?! The art ees ruined! Pull eet out, pull eet out NOW!”

  The incubus groaned and pulled out of her. Contact with the succubus’s juices had rubbed away the white paint on his cock, exposing his dark, vermillion-colored skin – but just on the swollen head.

  Of course, now there was other white stuff coming out of him, which spurted out and floated midair.

  Uh, mid-water.

  Whatever.

  The succubus was nearly crying, she was so frustrated.

  “You could at least let them finish!” Alaria shouted at Zali.

  “Bah!” he yelled as he ran over behind the faun’s pedestal. “YOU KNOW NO-THEENG ABOUT ART!”

  Alaria crossed her arms and glared at the hatchetfish. “Bastard…”

  I pointed at the doggy-style couple. “That’s what you meant by ‘posing’?”