For Your Sins

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A love story set in Hell.
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The room was rectangular, featureless, and pastel. It had a bed, also uninteresting. On the bed, the man's eyes had just opened, but the lines and planes and colors were still wandering around bumping into each other in the haze. Gradually they connected, formed an image of the surroundings, and asked for an explanation.

Tom looked around and wondered where he was.

The room wasn't familiar to him. It wasn't even the blandness of a hotel room, where you had to check the telephone book to see which city was outside. It had no other furnishings, no doors, no windows, no apparent source for the even lighting. The bed had no blankets or pillows, just a soft surface. It seemed more of an idea of a bed than a real bed.

Tom tried to move, and found that he was bound. He felt soft bands that held him to the bed at hips, shoulders, ankles, and wrists. He could at least raise his head to find that he could not see the restraints that kept him immobile. He also found that he was entirely naked.

"Ah, you're awake Tom. That's good."

A woman wearing black hair down to her waist and nothing else walked into Tom's field of view. He twisted his neck around; there was no door there either. She came to stand beside his bed, incongruously holding a clipboard.

"Are you Stanley Thomas Wingert, generally known as Tom, born in 1962, lately of Seattle?"

"What do mean lately? I live there now."

"You used to live there. Now you're buried there."

"What? What kind of sick joke is this? Who are you, and where the hell are we?"

"Got it in one, Tom," she smiled sweetly.

"Got what? Oh . . . Now wait a minute! This has gone far enough! Did you drug me? Is this a ransom deal? Cut the bullshit and tell me what you want with me."

She consulted her clipboard. "If you are indeed Stanley Thomas Wingert . . ." she looked up for confirmation, and Tom nodded tightly. "You have just died of an aneurism, and will be spending the rest of eternity here with us."

"In Hell? For what reason?"

She looked at her clipboard one more time. "Infidelity." She tossed the clipboard over her shoulder where it disappeared.

Nice sleight of hand, thought Tom, definitely nothing up her sleeve. She was, in fact, gorgeous beyond dreams. She had dusky skin and dark almond eyes. Long hair the color of a moonless night cascaded over slender shoulders. Her breasts were perfectly full, just to the point of a slight sag and no more. Dark areoles were set high and just a bit wide. She followed his gaze down and raised her hands to gently heft them for his appreciation. "Do you like what you see?"

"Well, of course. But I'm confused. Isn't Hell supposed to be for punishment and torment?"

"We'll get to that soon enough," she purred. She climbed onto the bed next to him and leaned over his nude form. Involuntarily, his cock started to stiffen. She let her hair drift over him, swaying to let it brush him from head to toe. As he came to full erection, she made sure not to actually touch his cock, which strained for contact.

"Who are you? What are you doing?"

"I'm your personal demon. I was created to spend eternity with you, tending to you in my special way."

Tom gasped as she emphasized her point. "I thought demons had horns and tails and red skin."

She laughed, "How quaint! Do people still believe that? I could, of course. I can look like anything I want, but why would I? Don't you like this better?"

"Of course. You're very lovely."

"Do you like my tits?" She leaned over until they dangled inches from his face. He strained to touch them, but she kept them just out of reach. She moved her shoulders, making them jiggle invitingly.

She resumed brushing her hair down his body. His cock pointed achingly to the ceiling. "Touch me, please! That feels so good that I can't stand it!" he pleaded.

"That's the general idea," she leaned over close to his swollen member, inspecting it minutely. The head was turning purple from the unrelenting teasing. She blew softly on it, laughing at the gasp from him.

Tom had no idea how long her teasing went on. There was no way to measure time in the featureless room. There was no clock, no change of lighting. He did not get hungry, or thirsty, or need to pee. She kept him hard, varying her routine just enough to keep him on the edge of anticipation, convinced that at any second she would finally grasp his erection and give him relief. He thrust and bucked his hips as much as his restraint allowed. His back was arched, all the muscles of his arms and legs were rigid as he yearned for the climax that never came.

Eventually . . . finally . . . after a time. All these imply the passing of time, and time did not pass here. Nonetheless, at some point the demon paused and sat back, legs curled under her. She was still as composed and lovely as the moment she came in.

Tom sank quivering to the mattress, exhausted. "Ah! Why don't you just end it?" he wailed.

"I don't think you've grasped the meaning of eternity yet, Tom."

"So what is this, a rest break?"

"Not really. I'm just providing some relative calm, so that you'll feel it even more when we resume." She ran her fingertips up his leg, right to the base of his cock as punctuation. Tom groaned.

"What do you want from me?"

"I don't want anything from you. Demons don't want, we just are."

"Well, I want a lawyer."

She threw her head back in a heartbreakingly rich contralto laugh. "Oh we have plenty of lawyers, but they're all otherwise occupied! Most of them a lot less pleasantly than you." She continued to walk her fingers across sensitive spots, keeping him from losing his erection.

Tom cast around for ways to keep her from resuming her torment. "Do you have a name?"

"No, I don't need one. I'm the only demon in here with you. Things only need a name if there's more than one."

"Are you worried that I'll have power over you if I learn your name?"

She laughed again. "Another quaint notion that won't die. No, I simply don't have a name."

"Alright, I need a name for you, even if you don't. I'll call you Jessica. I've always thought that was a very pretty name."

The demon looked at him as if she were oddly touched by his thought. "That's very sweet of you. It has a pleasing sound to it. But you're ready to resume now."

"No I'm not!"

She looked him over, a bored and unhungry cat regarding a mouse. "We have different goals, plaything."

She leaned over his cock, inspecting it critically. It was swollen and purple and ached deep into its roots from the continuous stimulation. Tom thought that it looked stretched, longer and fatter than it had ever been before. At one time he would have given anything to have a bigger cock; now it was only that much more agony. The demon breathed on it, and the rushing red tide swept all other thoughts out to sea.

In this episode of eternity, the demon would periodically touch his throbbing member. Each time a jolt of lighting shot through his pelvis through his spine to his brain, crisping every synapse it its path. Each one gave the hope of being the final push that would send him over the edge into the orgasm that would give him relief at last. Each hope perished as he fell short time and again. Tom tried to time his reactions to clench and thrust in time with one of her touches, in hopes of pushing himself over. The demon read him too well and varied her timing, and always caught him wrong-footed.

Tom switched tactics, and tried to think of humiliating moments in his life. Once in college he had had a series of promising but ultimately frustrating heavy petting sessions with a beautiful classmate. She had always gone willingly all the way down to panties and then stopped short, leaving him steaming on the siding. He belatedly remembered that her name was Jessica, and knew why that name had seemed right for the demon. Then on the night when she leaned down to where he was suckling on her tits and whispered in his ear, "I want to feel you inside me," she pulled down her panties and his boxers, only to find that some cold medicine he had taken that afternoon had left him unable to perform. Her scorn had been literally withering, and he had thought that his cock was going shrink back into his body and disappear.

He had spent years trying to forget that night, but now he replayed it in his head, trying to bring back every sneer and recrimination. He willed his cock to remember that insult and to wilt away from this reincarnation of Jessica. For a triumphant moment he thought he would succeed as he felt a slight lessening of the pressure in his crotch.

The demon Jessica looked up at him as she felt the change. "Naughty boy," she said, and leaned forward and took his balls in her hot mouth. The lightening storm that erupted in his hindbrain scattered his thoughts like sheep before the wolf. He surged straight to the edge again, and she held him there expertly while ages of the earth arose and waned.

When she released him to collapse in a quivering puddle of protoplasm, she stretched with feline grace and announced, "I have to go to a meeting. My division is getting reorganized, and attendance is mandatory. The rumor is that we're getting merged with Audit, since we both screw people."

Tom croaked, then had to wet his lips and swallow twice before he could get out, "Hell has reorganizations?"

"Well of course. Where do you think humans got the idea?"

She started to leave, and then turned around just before she reached the wall. "You'd probably like to stretch a little. Would you like me to loosen your bonds while I'm gone?"

Tom had to swallow again, not believing his luck. "Yes, that would be very nice", he said as levelly as possible. He didn't want to appear too eager.

"Alright, there you go," she said airily. "Be good." She faded from sight.

Tom grabbed immediately for his cock, ready to beat off in record time. He felt like a gallon of cum had built up in his balls, and this was his one chance for relief. Just a few quick strokes should finally do it . . . His hands crashed to a stop just inches away from their goal. He grabbed and squirmed futilely for a moment, then pounded his fists in the bed in frustration. Demon Jessica had known just how much slack to give him. He could hear her deep laughter floating through the air.

If he could not get relief that way, at least he could try to let go of the erection that felt like it had lasted for eons. He stared at it, willing it to deflate. God, it was enormous now. It was probably twice the length and thickness he had before. It bobbed angrily in time with his breathing, steadfastly refusing to ease.

He found that looking at his own monster cock was stimulating enough to keep the cycle going. He closed his eyes, and tried to form an image of a grassy glade deep in the forest. A quiet stream tumbled over rocks that were warmed by a gentle sun. The moss was soft under his bare skin, and the music of the water lulled his tensions away. It was hard not to strain to relax faster, which would have been self-defeating. Just keep up the relaxing imagery: a gentle breeze moved through the leaves briefly and then let them rest again.

Now a lovely water nymph came down to drink at the stream. It was peaceful watching her stir the water gently with a finger into expanding ripples. She cupped water in her hands and let the droplets trickle over her bare breasts. She shivered and sighed, a new leaf caressed by a spring breeze. One hand arched to touch a nipple, the other curled between her legs. Her fingers moved in languid circles as she closed her eyes and lost herself in her pleasures. Tom moaned and redoubled his efforts to touch his inaccessible and painful hardness.

The nymph was quaking now, the leaf buffeted by a building storm. She arched her back, thrusting out her breasts to the sky and crying out in wordless joy, then collapsing in elemental relief as the leaves settled again to rest.

Tom realized he was sobbing, both at the beauty of the act he had witnessed and the frustration of the release that was denied to him. Even in his daydreams he was doomed to be tormented. He heard the laughter of Jessica returning and re-opened his eyes as she appeared through the wall again.

"Did you enjoy the show I arranged for you while I was gone? I wouldn't want you to get bored."

"I might have known you had your lovely, twisted hands in it. Do you do some sort of incantation to write a script for my daydreams?"

"Not as you would understand it. Words really have no power. I had to solve a multivariate system of symbolic equations to set up the parameters for your entertainment. It's mathematics that has the real power to move the cosmos."

Tom blinked. "Really?"

"Oh, yes. Forget all your weapons of mass destruction. The wrong bit of predicate calculus and the Earth would be toast. It's fortunate that few of you know how to think in higher-dimensional spaces."

"And here I thought you were just another empty-headed bimbo."

Jessica looked like she had been slapped, anger eclipsing initial shock. She fixed Tom with a look that suggested he was a cockroach that had just walked across a formal dinner table with all the guests present. He began to fear for his safety. Not smart to anger a demon who could decide to set the wrong term to zero in her next equation. . .

"That didn't come out right. I'm sorry. I meant that you just made me realize that there was far more to you than met the eye, er, I mean you're beautiful, of course, but smart as well, and . . . and . . . I'll respect you in the morning, too."

Jessica burst out laughing, great peals of laughter that did such incredible things to her breasts that Tom almost strained an eye muscle following them. He damned himself for a fool for noticing, and then thought sadly how redundant that was now.

"So, how was the re-org meeting?" he asked. The more she talked the more he postponed resuming his torment.

"I know the story of Scheherazade, too, you know." She came to sit on the bed beside him and ran her hand down his chest, following the trail of fine hairs leading down from his navel, down across his lower abdomen, trailing her fingernails across his balls. His cock jerked and bobbed and grew larger yet.

"The meeting lasted an eternity," she said as she let her finger stray through his curly hair.

"I've . . . sat through meetings . . . like that," he gasped.

"No, that's not it. In Hell, meetings really do last an eternity."

"But you just left and came right back."

"Eternity is sequential on the microscopic level, otherwise you couldn't have a conversation. But it's simultaneous on the macroscopic level, so it's entirely possible to sit for eternity in a meeting and return by the end of your daydream. You can't really say it in English, and the math is way beyond you."

"Uh, right."

"Anyway, it was a standing meeting . . ."

"A regularly repeating eternal meeting?"

"No, I mean there were no chairs."

"What, to add to my torment I have to be your straight man, too?"

"So all the demons were standing in a crowd, listening to the Boss go on about efficiencies and quotas. And of course demons don't wear clothes. I began to realize that the male demon standing behind me was interested in me."

"Did he try to hit on you?"

"You might say that. You see, male demons have muscles in their penis, like an elephant's trunk. And this guy had a long one. I began to feel something caressing my legs, coiling softly around my ankles, and slowly stroking towards my thighs. I shook him off the first few times but he persisted. The lights went down and they started the Powerpoint presentation . . . Don't look surprised, we own the patent on that and a number of other instruments of torment . . . and I was feeling bored, so I let him continue.

"I could feel his serpent sliding up and down my ass crack. It was hot and smooth; the skin was silky but bands of steel moved beneath the surface. I moved my leg slightly, and he took the opening, slid between then, and made his way up past my navel. He was very skilled, and coiled around both breasts, squeezing and fondling them. His hot length was sliding down my ass crack and up across my clitoris as he worked on my tits. He descended again, and soon I could feel the head of his penis nuzzling at my opening, trying to find a way in. His hands came around me in the dark, and cupped my breasts, like this." She held them gently in her hands, and began playing with her nipples. Tom watched them harden and grow until they jutted out like erasers.

"Now I was starting to get wet, so he began to work his way inside me. The head was very bulbous, almost a knob, and he had to work steadily and patiently to ease it inside. Once he had managed that, he kept inching more and more inside me. I have no womb, so I took over eighteen inches of him inside. He began rocking gently in the darkness and pinching my nipples harder and harder. He inched more of his cock inside me, making it thicker and harder, and filling me until it could not move any more.

"Now I squeezed back, trapping him inside me. It became a battle, where he would push and thrust inward, and I would squeeze like a python on her prey. He mauled my breasts and his testicles felt like tennis balls against my ass. Then he lifted my from my feet with the strength of his penis alone, and dangled me on the end of his pole.

"Finally, after eons of struggle, I felt the eruption course through the penis that joined us, deep into my body, exploding scalding ectoplasm into my innermost parts, and running in streams down my legs. My own ecstasy came a moment later, and I grasped him in a crushing grip, and sucked from him two more molten eruptions to fuel my fire. I could have drained him, unwise as he was to couple with me with no means of retreat. But he had been diverting during an interminable meeting, so I let him slip free, and all the demons around us applauded quietly."

"Uh, wow. That was hot. Why is it you can keep me on the edge even by telling me about a meeting?"

"It's my purpose. I was created to torment you, so everything I do has that end."

"Did you enjoy the male demon? Did he give you release? I never get to do that for you, so you must be as frustrated as I am."

"The only thing a demon enjoys is fulfilling her purpose. The main reason I let him take me is so that I could use the story to torment you more."

"It did. It made me crazy that he was able to touch you the way I've been wanting to. I want to pound my cock in you in the worst way, and shoot this load that you've built up over I don't know how long. But I feel jealous too. I want to make you scream out and lose control. I want to make you come until you see stars. I want to hold you afterwards while you gasp and tremble from your orgasm, and fall asleep with you in my arms."

The demon looked uncertain for the first time since Tom had awakened under her care. "Why do you want to do that?"

"Because you're funny and smart and beautiful. You're totally devoted to me, in your own way. You've been my only company for ages, and we're going to be together for eternity, or so you tell me. I suppose it's only natural; I think they called it the prisoner syndrome. You come to love your captor after long enough, and I think that it's happened to me."

The demon sat lost in thought for a while, though she still remembered to let her hands roam over Tom's body to keep him in his unrelenting state of excitement. She reached up to inscribe rows of fiery symbols in the air with a graceful finger and considered the results. "That wasn't supposed to happen." She made some alterations to several of the lines, then nodded. "I can work with that."

"Jessica?"

"Yes?"

"Kiss me."

She looked at him in surprise, then back at her equations. She rubbed out two symbols and wrote slightly different ones in their place. She smiled a dazzling smile in his direction. "You asked for it."