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[b][u][center]Hurled Through Hell

Chapter 8

For Damiekinz

By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]

Eoghann gritted his teeth as the surprisingly ‘fancy’ kobolds took to dressing him. For all that they were shorter than him by well over a foot and seemed more like dragon knock-offs than anything fancy themselves, they carried themselves with a certain dignity that surprised him. They tutted under their breath as they ran strings around his hips, down his legs, and then over his arms and chest. They squeezed his ass, nodded in approval, but never took it further than that, almost like they were genuinely touching something at market rather than measuring a person that needed clothing.

He didn’t know how to feel about that. He almost didn’t know how to feel at all.

When the silks came out, he was surprised again. Hell had been indulgent at times, no doubt about it, but even in the Circle of Indulgence, he hadn’t felt silks of such quality as what were being draped around his hips and over his groin. The harem pants that he was supplied with were [i]completely[/i] transparent, of course – black, starred with golden specks, but still see-through – but the touch of the silks…

The badger shivered as the sheer luxury of his new clothes made itself apparent. Not once, not in all his many years in the Material Plane, had he been able to wear something like this. It felt like sensual hands stroking over his cock with every movement, with inquisitive gropes and squeezes across his rump. The shimmering bolt of fabric across his chest, barely covering his pecs and nipples, was no different, teasing him as it dragged across his flesh and made him remember the pleasure that could come from there.

“Mmmph…”

“You are certainly more up to standard now,” one of the kobolds said, chuckling under his breath. “Our master will be more pleased with this than with that gaudy loincloth. Modesty and display, all at once.”

“Mmmph. It’s not…a bad look,” Eoghann admitted.

“It merely needs one thing to complete it.”

“And what – oh, you fuckers…”

The kobold held up a bejeweled golden butt plug, one that was big even by Hellish standards. In the mortal world, it would have been completely absurd. He doubted that he could have taken it up there without some sort of spell to make his ass stretch and his hole expand to fit the damn thing.

But down here…

The badger groaned as he remembered the knots and more that had gone past his pucker. He had taken cocks that were far bigger than he logically should have been able to fit. It was probably part of the ambient magic of the Circles of Hell, and that meant that the plug would go in just fine. Even if he wished that it wouldn’t.

The kobold gestured with one finger, teasingly flicking it down, and Eoghann grumbled as he pulled the back of his new silk pants down. The kobold walked around him, grabbed his ass –

“Quite the pillowy rump…”

And finally teased the plug in. There was no sudden thrust like there would have been in the Circle of Punishment. Instead of the ramming, popping feeling, there was more of a sense of the heavy metal plug rubbing against his pucker, teasing it, rolling against his hole. The tip eased in, out, in, out, before slowly sinking forward, and he could only imagine how that must have looked in his mind’s eye. The slow spread of the pink rim, the way that his hole bent and opened up, giving into the bejeweled think, and –

Squelch.

A much larger shiver ran up his spine as the plug slid in. No pop this time, but rather a wet, sliding, accepting feeling that made his ass feel far more like a fuck-toy than any of the knot-fucking had. The sheer ease at which the plug had slid in made him whimper, a bright red blush running across his cheeks as he realized what the past twenty-one years had done to his body.

[i]How much of a slut have I been? I never sounded like that when I was…alive…[/i]

He didn’t have an answer. If there was one, he wasn’t sure he wanted it.

The kobold patted his ass as he stood up again.

“That will be far closer to the master’s standards,” the kobold said.

“This one should appeal. Aside from his pact, of course.”

“Decent enough in shape.”

“Wide hips, which the master appreciates.”

“And a face suited for worship.”

“Yes, and soft…”

“Soft all over…”

Biting his lips, Eoghann forced himself to let go of the bitter words that were coming to mind. He wasn’t in the Circle of Punishment anymore, and he certainly didn’t have the protection that was Ym’s submission around him anymore. Fighting back right now would only tempt fate, and fate had been particularly brutal of late. Best not tempt it to go further right then.

“Then let’s go to Marthim and see how he feels about me.”

“Heh. Yes. We shall present you to the master. Follow us.”

The kobolds led him away from the lava river, going deeper and deeper into the realm of Luxury. The great mountain was no longer volcanic, but more like the slopes of a mountain retreat favored by rich merchants and nobles for their time away from the great cities. He imagined that it had been used regularly by other demons of power when they were allowed to leave their circles.

As they led him along a winding path, the badger wondered what would happen to him here. Haborym had put him through the wringer with the arena in various shades, and before that, Astaroth had indulged him, giving him the ultimate in terms of pleasure before kicking him out and leaving him reminiscing about it all the time. Before that, Berith had forcibly expanded his mind, ripping away his identity for a time and making him see the world from a hundred different perspectives that he wished to see again.

All of them had given him pleasure, and all of them had teased him with it before taking it away and reminding him that he would not get it again for years. What would Marthim want of him?

They reached the end of the path at the top of the mountain, where the peak arched over the smoothed stone and led to a cavern within. The path dropped down, spiraling, spinning further and further into the great mountain. He followed the kobolds down, feeling each little step as a thump down his back, reminding him that he was descending into the lair of a great dragon Archfiend.

He didn’t know how long they descended, but it must have been far, because there was no sky to be seen, nor any light that penetrated this far down. Smoke, not from wood but from incense, rolled up through the staircase, flooding his nose with the rich smells of lavender, sandalwood, and other things that were often burned in the homes of the wealthy. A softer sound, something dull and yet tinkling, filled the air to go with it, and he recognized it as a certain sort of drum made for the high courts of the world above. Only a certain amount was made every year, and there were few indeed that could play them.

[i]He’s collecting the greatest signs of wealth that he can,[/i] he thought. [i]Collecting all the scarcity and showing it off.[/i]

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Eoghann gasped as he saw the hoard laid out before him. Gems and gold were the least of it, though the most plentiful as they spread out like a flood that shifted and lapped at the ‘shore’ of the room whenever the great dragon in the center shifted his weight. As the gold coins flowed forward and back, they carried with them smaller but more valuable treasures of rings and amulets, bracelets and gauntlets that shimmered with magic, and more.

He turned in place, looking at the edges of the room where braziers emitted rich, colored smoke that carried the scents of different incense. Endless lines of kobolds fed them fuel, and some were attended by servants with fans, mortals that flicked the smoke toward the dragon that owned them, only moving from one brazier to another when the Archfiend demanded some hint of variety between his pleasures.

Finally, Eoghann’s eyes went to the middle of the hoard. A great cushion, far bigger than even the throne rooms of the greatest kings, was sat atop the treasure, and on the cushion itself was the Archfiend Marthim. Eoghann’s breath caught in his throat as he looked at the massive feral dragon, the black and gold creature lounging with his chin resting on one of his forepaws, and his eyes were fixed on the badger.

He froze, pinned under the gaze of the dragon. The kobolds darted to their positions in the chamber, clearly unaffected, but he couldn’t move.

“Hmmmph…it took you quite some time to arrive,” Marthim said.

“…The others had me first.”

“Yes, yes. Twenty-one years of waiting. Twenty-one years of interest, as well,” the dragon said, a small chortle following his words. “I would hope that you continue to be worth such interest. Turn.”

The command was nothing like the forced obedience in the Circle of Punishment, but there was something powerful behind it, nonetheless. Maybe it was the power of an Archfiend, or…maybe it was just the natural charisma of a dragon. Whatever the reason, as Marthim gestured with his other forepaw for the badger to turn in place, he followed the order and did just that.

As he spun in place, he could feel the faint jiggles that still remained despite the hard life of the Circle of Punishment. No matter how hard he worked in the arena, there had always been something from Indulgence that remained in him. His ass remained soft, as did his thighs, and the name they gave him –

“Hmmm, Pillow-Butt indeed.”

The dragon’s rumbling voice echoed through the cavern, and his cheeks burned as the kobolds and mortal souls alike chuckled at him. Biting his lips, he kept turning around, and around, feeling the plug shifting inside of him and rubbing against his prostate just enough to start tickling an erection out of him.

Step.

Step.

Step.

He went all the way around, and then started going around again, feeling the gold chains running from his hips to his anklets clicking as he did. He could feel the tugging feeling of the weight of the plug dragging at his rim. He could feel his rising cock rubbing against the silk trousers that he wore, the hugging, squeezing, teasing feeling of the harem pants rubbing against his ass in the back, and –

And he was getting hard. Oh, he was used to public erections by now, but this one throbbed like he had when he’d first fucked Borymha back at the last Cycling. He hadn’t thought he could feel that hard without being filled with hate, but it seemed he could.

“Stop.”

He stopped facing away, his ass pointed back at the dragon. His cheeks burned again as he felt the stare resting on his cheeks, imagining that the dragon was probably getting a bit erect himself.

[i]Don’t flatter yourself. He’s the Archfiend of Luxury. There’s no way that he’s actually getting that turned on by someone like you.[/i]

But it was still…oddly flattering to think that someone like that might. He huffed through clenched teeth, fists clenched at his side, waiting.

“Acceptable,” the dragon said. “Turn to face me again.”

Eoghann did as he was told, turning on his heel to face the great black and gold dragon. Even from this distance, far from the cushion, he could tell that Marthim was the biggest and largest of the Archfiends that owned his soul. The feral dragon was large enough that he doubted that any of the mortal dragons on the Material Plane could have matched him. Hell, he doubted that there was a living being that could function as a pleasure partner for the Archfiend; he was massive beyond belief.

“Come.”

As the feral dragon curled the digits of his forepaw, space bent around the badger. One moment, he was at the edge of the hoard; the next, he was on the cushion, most of the way towards the feral’s hindquarters.

“You will start your service at my balls,” the dragon Archfiend said. “Join the others down there, and we will see if you’re worth putting anywhere else.”

“Your balls? That’s it?” Eoghann asked.

“Indeed. We’ll see if you can actually keep up with the others. I do maintain a certain level of quality.”

“So your kobolds kept saying…”

“Then you should believe it by now, heh. Now, get to work.”

The Archfiend rolled onto his side, and as he did, the various mortals that had been under him were revealed. There were dozens of them, some of them attending to the massive shaft pressed against the dragon’s belly, while some were kept under his mighty ass. Others still were pressed to his hind-paws, and the last were pressed against his sac.

And what a sac it was. The balls themselves were…huge. Huge enough that he could imagine some of them being crushed beneath the heavy balls, pinned in place until they drowned on his musk and suffocated against the flesh. Trembling, he approached, unable to shake the thought of being trapped there for gods knew how long.

Some of the other mortal souls – one a mouse, the other a seal – parted to give him space. He was put between the paired orbs, right where that little valley and crease began, and he laid down as the others did. The Archfiend rolled over, and as he did, the faint lights of the braziers were blocked off, and so was the scent of the incense.

As his world turned from fire and sweetness to darkness and musk, he forced himself to keep breathing normally. The scent, while strong, was no different to the many knots and ballsacs that had been jammed in his face for two and a half years straight in the Circle of Punishment. He could take this. He could…

He could…

The heady musk settled in his lungs, and his eyes started rolling back in their sockets as he realized the sheer pressure and power of a dragon’s scent. It wasn’t that it was foul, or strong, or unwashed, but rather that there was something to it that forced the mind to acknowledge it. It forced its way into his mind, wrapping around his thoughts, and it pounded through any and all of his defenses with certain concepts.

Power.

Richness.

Superiority.

He was surrounded by the lushness of someone higher status, someone that was more powerful, someone that had greater strength and richness and –

And manhood.

And masculinity.

And power.

And sensuality.

And – and – and –

His tongue slipped free without a thought, and he dragged his tongue along the scaly flesh over him. He heard the huffs and grunts of the other mortals around him and knew that he wasn’t the only one doing that very thing.

Lick.

Lap.

Lick.

Lap.

They kept tasting the heavy balls over them, the weight and pressure of the great sac pinning them in place. He licked in the crease, while another kissed along the heavy curve of the swollen orb on his right. Another was huffing, nuzzling, sniffing up the scent on his left. They were all helpless but to obey, to indulge, to give in to the dragon’s massive orbs.

Eoghann kept licking, and the taste smothered him, pushing him down as thoroughly as the weight and musk did. Little by little, the word began to fade around him, replaced with a sense of darkness…and duty…

#

[i]Time passed.

He shifted from the crease to one of the orbs. He wasn’t sure how big it was, or how long he had been in the dark, but there had been a change. Good enough to not be stuck in the crease, good enough to lick and suck on the edge of a ball rather than be dragging his tongue in the gap between. The taste was less powerful out here, but there was something else that held his attention, something else keeping him from thinking.

And that was the weight and curve of the sac, and how it pinned him down, and how the sloshy fullness of it ground against his body from time to time. It gave above him, grinding and rubbing against his own crotch, and he was hard. He was hard all the time, his cock dripping against the inside of his silken pants.

Was it magic that kept him clean? Or did he no longer feel the same sense of grime that he once did?

He didn’t know. He didn’t care.

He dragged his head up and down, licking over the heavy sac again and again, feeling the taste settling into his mouth. Elsewhere, the moans of mortals filled his ears, everyone sucked into the worship of the idol of the dragon overhead.

Breathe.

The power of a dragon, the sheer might and size, dwarfed them. They were smothered by a work of art.

Breathe.

The size of a dragon, the glittering perfection of his scales. He was the embodiment of wealth and luxury, and they should respect that.

Breathe.

His scent, the potent power of rich masculinity, and it was blessing them. Holding them down. Keeping them in their proper place to serve the font of luxury.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.[/i]

#

Time passed, and the sac lifted.

Wheezing, shivering, he stared up at the roof of the cavern as the great Archfiend rolled on his side once more. The breath of incense-heavy air was foreign to him, almost offensive after who knew how long under those balls. Some small part of him wondered why he would prefer someone’s sac to sweet, rich incense, but he couldn’t deny that most of him did, and he wondered if he was being punished for something. The other mortals on either side were huffing, groaning, slowly rolling over and fondling for something, anything to keep worshiping.

Before the badger could do the same, the dragon’s tail wrapped around his waist and pulled him away. The Archfiend’s voice echoed around the cavern, rumbling and thunderous in his ears.

“Better than I expected, Pillow-Butt. I feel we might need to get you a collar with that name on it. But not yet. You have been promoted.”

“Nnngh?”

“Yes, promoted. From sac-sucking to ass-adoring.”

“I…I…”

“You can thank me later.”

The dragon’s tail pulled him around and back, and he was given a perfect view of the dragon’s haunches. They were huge, the cheeks wide, and between them, two other mortals were already pinned in place. Despite working together, they were unable to cover the vast hole between the cheeks, unable to pleasure it properly between the two of them.

The very idea that someone was large enough, and had a big enough asshole, to need three people to rim it was something both absurd and…and oddly arousing.

Before Eoghann could think about it too much, he was pulled under the dragon’s tail. He groaned as he felt the heat of that hole burning so near him. No scent, nothing but the same sort of musk that he had become accustomed to, but that was still more than powerful enough to leave his head spinning.

Lick, lick, lick. He could hear the other mortals licking away as the dragon sat back on them, shifting his position. Now, all the weight of the Archfiend was on them, pinning them to the cushion and leaving them unable to escape.

This was somehow hotter, worse than the darkness beneath the sac. This was warmer, like a dry sauna, saturating them in the heavy, heady musk that clung under the tail. Clean, yes, but with…with a taboo size and power and…

And…

[i]Hard to think…hard to…[/i]

Eoghann groaned, joining in with the licking, the worshiping. He could feel the smoothness of the flesh and the little wrinkles here and there that were always part of someone’s pucker, but were normally too small to feel. Here, he could feel every detail.

[i]Big, powerful, rare…[/i]

Which meant it was valuable. Even now, even now, he was given the chance to worship someone bigger, someone better, someone higher up the hierarchy than he was. This dragon was the height of luxury, a rare specimen that allowed others to partake in him. In his luxury, he was generous, and they were blessed to…to be allowed to…

Head spinning.

Cock throbbing.

He kept licking, groaning, his face sweating from the heat and the rest of his body following suit. His clothes clung to him, no longer baggy, but wet and tight as he sweated from head to toe in the dry heat of the dragon’s ass.

Pressure.

Sat on.

Pinned.

His face was sucked closer and closer to the center of the large hole, not pulled in, but pinned at the middle. There was no getting away from it, no escaping the sheer size of the Archfiend’s ass. The cheeks were all around them, squeezing from time to time, pinning them together. The warmth of the other mortals trapped there with him only added to the dry-heat feeling, the only moisture coming from their own sweat as they gasped and panted and wheezed in service to the Archfiend’s ass.

[i]Big…[/i]

So big. So impossibly big. He’d heard of men that had big enough cocks that multiple lovers were needed to service them, but Marthim took that further. He was…he was so large that his ass needed three people to worship it.

Mighty hole.

Beautiful rim.

Bountiful rump.

With each lick, his cock throbbed all the harder, and with each throb, he felt himself falling further and further into the spell that ass cast over him. That rump, that bountiful, glorious rump, had him entranced, and the sheer grandiosity over it – from the width of the cheeks to the pressure that came from being under it to the sheer size of that hole – broke something in his head. He moaned between licks, cock rising, throbbing, pulsing away as it got harder and harder until –

“Nnngh!”

Eoghann arched his back, cumming. His weak thrusts wobbled him out of his pants, his seed spilling on the fabric, and then on the cushion.

[i]I just…I just came from…[/i]

His face burned as the realization hit him. Hands-free, he’d just blown his load over the Archfiend’s cushion, and he’d cum from nothing but the size and pressure of that ass over his entire body. The heat, the size difference, the taste, everything had played a part in it, but it was still enough to have gotten him off.

Before he could quite process what had happened, the dragon’s ass lifted off him once more. The other slaves went to the mess on the cushion, licking it clean, but the tail grabbed hold of him and heaved him out of the space between the cheeks. The badger was still trying to catch his breath as he was heaved forward in front of the dragon’s face, his eyes meeting those glittering orbs as the Archfiend looked at him in bemusement and annoyance.

“You believe that you have the right to cum whenever you want, do you?”

“I…I’m sorry, I –”

“Mmmm, given the chance to appreciate my luxury and power, and you just spill your seed, instead.”

“I’m sorry. I…consider it…a tribute?” he tried to say.

“A tribute that is quite lacking in worth.”

“I’m –”

“I will not hear more of this. If you want to cum, then you can put that pillowy ass of yours to work. There are plenty of others under me that will be happy to take pleasure from it and pay for the privilege.”

“P-pay?!”

“You are my property, badger. And you will be useful, one way, or another.”

With a flick of his tail, the dragon threw him through space once more. For a split-second, Eoghann was in the air, flying backwards. The next second, he was somewhere else, falling toward a mattress. He landed with a thump, bouncing up, sideways, then stopping somewhere lying on his belly.

Groaning and blinking as he tried to collect himself, the badger lifted his head, looking around the small chamber. He was on top of a four-poster bed, much like some of the ones in the palaces in the Material Plane, but again, with far greater wealth and status painted over the walls and shimmering in sheets and curtains around the bed.

[i]Nothing in the Material Plane matches this,[/i] he thought, turning to stare at everything. [i]Just one little piece from this room would be enough to keep me in gold for a decade. And he just…has everything…[/i]

The more that he saw, the more that he understood the Circle of Luxury. It was the pleasures of richness, yes, but it was also the pleasure of status. Everything Marthim had was one more way of showing that he had it all, and that those that would serve him would at least enjoy being around it all.

So long as they showed respect.

So long as they knew their place.

So long as they showed how they could worship someone that was clearly good enough to have all these things of value.

“Well, well, well. Looks like we get the Pillow-Butt first.”

Eoghann whipped his head around. Six kobolds had climbed up from the other side of the bed. None of them were his size, but they outnumbered him enough to take away that advantage. Two grabbed him by the hips, rubbing his ass cheeks and spreading them together, while a third stepped forward with a few glinting pieces of metal in his hands.

“You are going to be making our master some money with that money-maker back there, Pillow-Butt,” the third kobold said, chuckling under his breath. “Maybe you’ll be able to work your way back up to being under his ass once more. Maybe not. But one way or another, you will understand the luxury of serving under someone like him.”

“Am I supposed to be some kind of whore, then?” the badger grunted.

“That implies that you were ever anything else. Sold yourself to the master and the other Archfiends, didn’t you? Sold yourself. It’s what every whore that ever lived did, and it’s what you will always do.”

“…”

“Now, lean forward – that’s a good Pillow-Butt.”

“Stop – nnngh!”

His attention was pulled from his burning cheeks to his nose as the kobold pushed a ring up against his face. The cool metal was one thing, but it was the tingling that followed that grabbed his thoughts and held them tight. The ring pushed through his flesh, sliding through his face until it hung half-in, half-out of his nostrils. As the kobold let go, he felt it settle, somehow painlessly becoming a piercing through his nose, a golden nose-ring that hung down with just enough weight for him to feel it there. Tingling, twitching, tugging, somehow more sensual than it had any right to be.

Before he could process it, the kobold took it even further, jamming two more pieces of gold against his chest. Once more, the tingling, almost tickling feeling of the rings passing through his skin stopped his thoughts in their tracks, and he huffed, gasping, shivering as the pieces of metal were wiggled into position. The strange magic allowed them to pass through his flesh painlessly, melting through it and taking their position through his nipples.

And this time, when the kobold took his hands away, they were heavier. Not painfully so, but there was a faint weight to them that was more substantial than the one through his nose. He felt like they would be keeping his nipples hard all the time, and a blush burned on his cheeks as he realized what he looked like: a whore.

And then…

Then one more. Right in his belly-button. The badger tried to avoid it, but the kobolds were too close, too strong for him to fight. A little tingle-tickle later, and he had a final piercing at his stomach. A little gold ring, glinting among the creamier fur around his stomach, shining in the low light of the bedroom. There was no missing it, and his cheeks burned all the brighter as he realized he’d been marked as nothing more than property.

Property of the rich man.

Property of the better man.

Property of the dragon.

“Mmmph…”

“Hehehe, that’s better. Now, you know what all these do, Pillow-Butt?” the kobold asked, looking up at him with a hand on his hip.

“…No.”

“Then let me show you.”

“Oh, oh, me!” one of the other kobolds shouted.

“No, me!”

“Shut up!” the first one growled. “Master said I could do it, so I do it.”

With no more warning than that, the kobold snapped his fingers. As the click echoed in the tiny room, Eoghann’s eyes went wide as the four pieces of metal started buzzing away, vibrating through his nose, his nipples, his stomach. A wave of ecstasy rolled through him and he tumbled to his hands and knees, his mouth hanging open and his eyes rolling back as pleasure rammed through him.

“Ah…ah…ah…”

“Someone get the plug out. Pillow-Butt is going to earn his keep…”

[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]

Summary: Eoghann goes through the first bit of his time in the Circle of Luxury, and learns that it’s rather different than the others.

Tags: M/M, Size Difference, Butt Plug, Badger, Dragon, Intelligent Feral, Demon, Archfiend, Hell, Magic, Sat On, Ball Worship, Rimming, Kobold, Orgasm, Cum, Musk, Series,