The Monk Ambrosio Ch. 04

This is kind of an epilogue that explains what happens to Ambrosio once he becomes property of Matilda in Hell. If you are unsure about the situation, go back and read Chapters 1, 2 and 3. Thanks for any feedback!

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'Intus Abyssus' (Latin - In Hell)

Ambrosio felt warm. It was the first sensation he felt when he woke from his sleep. He was so comforted by the warmth that he didn't open his eyes. It was silent around him. Matins would be commencing soon, but he could not hear any of the monks moving outside in the corridors. He meditated on his strange dream, one of dark delights and being engulfed in flames. His neck felt tight and he reached up to rub his fingers over the muscle. Instead of his own skin, he felt the cold steel of a shackle. His eyes flew open. His vision hadn't been the invention of a slumbering mind, rather it was true!

Instead of stone walls and ceilings, he was surrounded by slabs of black marble and ornamentation of onyx and gold. He could hear crackling of flames distant and near popping in his ear. Adding to his panic was the fact that he was alone and naked. He lay upon a bejeweled bed covered in the fur skins of unknown beasts. On the air was the slight stench of sexual congress and the iron smell of blood.

"No!" he whispered to himself. "No it cannot be!" He stepped off the bed onto the floor which showed his own reflection. He looked down and could see his panicked face and the gold shackle which tethered him to the bed. His hand went to his chest, where the pit of anxiety in his chest was burning white-hot. To his horror, he found there was no heartbeat!

"Oh god! I am dead! I am in Hell! Oh my soul!" he cried. A sudden jerk on the chain from behind sent him sprawling onto his back and arrested by invisible hands.

"My dear Ambrosio," said a soft voice. He knew immediately that it was Matilda.

"Matilda!"

"You will address me as 'Mistress' and never by that filthy human name again, do you understand slave!" she thundered. He was aware of where she stood now and could hear her footsteps some small distance away. "Mephistopheles has given me a new name, a far more beautiful name. The Dark One addresses me as 'Baelesta.'"

"Please Matilda, let me go. God will forgive me if you only let me go!" he entreated pitifully. "I shall never wrong another again, if only I can go return to the monastery. I would pray a thousand prayers."

"DID YOU NOT HEAR MY WORDS, FOOL!" her voice boomed. "Wish not for succor, for there is none in Heaven, Hell or Earth for you!" She laughed her dark, evil laugh then approached him. "You belong to me now," she said softly.

Looking up he could see the blossom of her womanhood, swollen and raw with desire. A small bit of her juices dripped onto his face. A leather corset boosted her large breasts. She was still the Madonna of the painting he had possessed while he was a monk, gorgeous and exquisitely beautiful. He tried to tear away his gaze, but he was consumed with an unwarranted lust, the strength of which had never before been known to him. Now he was her slave... and something else, no more a human.

His manhood reacted and gazing down he could see her hand waving over his organ and then unseen forces were stroking him. Small pearls of clear fluid issued from the tip and dripped down. He moaned in unadulterated ecstasy. It was the most amazing feeling he had ever felt.

"You will feel the depths of pain as well as pleasure you filth. Now come, you piece of excrement!" she commanded.

"No! Leave me! I am dying!" he said in his panic. The pleasure was more than he had ever felt. Though he was sure he was already dead, he felt that death was coming again for him and he would sink deeper still into Hell.

"Come you dirty whore! Come for your demon mistress!" her voice boomed.

With a guttural cry, his orgasm ripped through his body like a bolt of lightning. He shot hot ropes of liquid from his cock and he laid back, still arrested, weeping while she chuckled.

She stood over him, her wet channel at such a level that if she squatted, he would enter her. She opened her hand and into it materialized a thick black whip, jewels set into the handle.

"I will punish you this way for all eternity," she said, lifting a heeled foot. She shoved the spiked heel into his testicles. He yelped in agony. "I will make you wish you had never wanted her. I shall use you until I no longer want you, then I shall cast you into the lake of fire," she promised. She lowered to her knees and shoved his softening member into her cunt. It was hot as a brand inside and the pain caused him to cry out.

"Do you like this cunt? Is it as good as Antonia's?" she teased. Her hips lifted up and then settled back down until his soft sack was pressed tight under her buttocks.

"Please, please let me go..." he repeated.

"BE SILENT!" she screamed and lashed his face with the whip. Red stripes appeared there and tears fell from his eyes again.

She rocked up and down on his cock until she was smiling and breathing hard. Confusion mixed with guilt, mixed with enjoyment. He couldn't contain his moans and groans. Each stroke was more exquisite than the last. He imagined no greater pleasure but then she began fucking him violently until his aching organ began to spasm again. Once again he sprayed an alarming amount of seed deep into her womb.

"You unforgivable SLUT!" she yelled. "You have come without permission!" she reproached. "NEVER come without my consent!" she ordered and lifted herself from his soft, raw dick. She stood and took a few steps until her dripping slit was just above his face. "Since you love coming so much, CLEAN IT ALL UP LIKE THE SLAVE YOU ARE!"

She dropped her hips and shoved her swollen lips against his mouth. She reached down and spread the folds until her tight hole was exposed. His fluids spilled from it. He tried his best to avoid the drips, but some of them dropped on his tongue and a little got in his nose. Some dripped over his cheeks and onto his ears.

"OPEN YOUR MOUTH SLAVE OR YOU SHALL DRINK GALLONS OF IT!" He was weeping again, his face dripping with sweat, tears and his own spunk. He opened his mouth and sobbed as she held his nose. He choked on the gush of white liquid that issued from her until he felt as though he were drowning. When it was gone, she lifted an eyebrow as if asking why he stopped.

"My command was for you to clean it away," she said gently. He swallowed what was left in his mouth, then stuck out his tongue. Gagging, he licked the warm salt from the tiny nub and the folds there. "INSIDE!" she insisted. He stuck his tongue out and stiffened it. She lowered even further, so he could barely breathe. His nose nudged the button nested in her blonde curls. He licked in wide circles inside the passage of her channel until he was sure he had cleaned it all.

She didn't stop there. Instead her face was flushed again with the madness of lust. She ground her fuck-hole onto his hardened tongue. She was fucking his face as she might his cock. He choked and sputtered, trying his best to keep his tongue stiff. She gripped his hair, riding his face. He felt as though he were going to pass out from being deprived of breath, when a torrent of piping liquid bathed his already sticky face.

Shame flooded him as he realized that somehow his manhood was standing at attention once more.

"Want to come again, aye?" she asked. "This is the beginning of your eternity, Ambrosio. You come when I say you come. You love who I say you can love. You obey your Mistress now. I own you." She stood and smiled down at his disheveled form, utterly humiliated, tethered to the floor... hers forever.