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In Hell Part 1 free porn video
Jennie was dead.
The opposing truck's headlights had morphed into a great white expanse after the deafening crash. There had been no pain, not even any sensation beyond utter surprise. Some drunk wanker had taken a turn way too hard and fast, right into the only other vehicle driving around at this ungodly hour. And wham, that was it for Jennie van Sant, and her best friend Catherine Belmont. Cause of death : Loss of third dimension.
A shame, really, but Jennie always knew her last words would go something like "FU-". She lived fast, loose and without much of a plan. She had been an emaciated twig with greasy, long dark hair in her teenage years.
Poor Catherine was pathologically shy. She was physically unremarkable, a solid 5 in every aspect, with the added bonus of a stammer and an innate fear to talk to strangers unless spoken to. Oh, she had been a well-meaning girl, ready to live the life you were supposed to in this day and age. She had found a job, tried to fit in...and got burned. Now she was withdrawn, dedicated only to her hobbies, but unable to fend for herself. As a result, Jennie had been conning for two for a good while now.
And now there was nothing but the light.
"J-j-jennie? What's hap-p-penning ?"
The girl was startled by her friend's voice. How could she hear her ? Both of their bodies were bound to look like toothpaste by now.
"...I'm pretty sure we just died, Cat. Fucking drunk trucker hit our pick-up head-on. Sorry."
The only answer Jennie gets is a pained little whine. No wonder.
"So I guess we're going to find out what's at the end of the tunnel, heh ?"
"...I'm n-not in any hurry, Jen."
"Whaat ? You think we're going to Hell ? Come on, we may be lowlives, but we're not evil !"
"Maybe b-b-but...I mean, we're f-f-falling..."
Jennie's eyes shot open.
"Holy shit, you're right."
She couldn't see TCat in this blinding light, or indeed distinguish anything at all, but her senses didn't lie...they were, indeed, falling. Which, given the context, couldn't possibly be good news. And while Jennie's Sunday-school-related knowledge was as hazy as it was secondhand, she was quite sure that Hell had a fairly inclusive admittance policy.
"Oh shit oh shit oh..."
And with that realization, the light turned into a sea of fire.
"...FUUUUUUUUCK !"
They were high up in the air. Way, way high. High enough to see the curve of a planet of glowing magma inside an immeasurably huge red cavern. In Earth terms, they were higher than the International Space Station. Yet they could breathe...and they sure as hell could fall.
Trisha, afraid of heights since c***dhood, was screaming her lungs out, scratching her own face frantically but unable to wake up. Jenny was too mesmerized by the sheer, gut-punching unreality of the scene for its terror to sink in.
Six hundred kilometers. Five hundred and ninety-nine kilometers. Even at terminal velocity, the fall was slow enough for the rocker to see small islands break the lava's surface, connected by thin stripes of land. Were they inhabited ? Hard to tell since everything was on fire, but the island they were falling towards formed a perfect, half-circled shape. That clearly screamed artificial.
That was the extent of Jennie's analysis before the thought of hitting the floor sank in, and her brain switched to panic mode. The half-circle was closing in fast, and the joys of skydiving were, let's say, mitigated by the fact that it was clearly just the beginning of Hell's torments. She closed her eyes as soon as the first buildings became visible, and missed the rooftop of the one in the center opening.
Jennie and Catherine spent several seconds processing what had just happened. The bed was soft, but when you fall at terminal velocity, weren't you supposed to superdie even when hitting water ? And sure, you weren't supposed to die in Hell, but you were definitely supposed to suffer. Was this some sort of trick ?
They were in a red bedroom, with a comfortable king-sized bed and the basic amenities of an hotel room. And sure, hotels can suck sometimes, but calling them Hell would be somewhat of a reach.
But as they wondered what exactly this painless fall revealed about the mechanics of this place, the door to the small bedroom opened.
"Hmm ? Two birds in one stone, eh ?"
A man in his early thirties, sporting a white shirt and black tie combo, short, black hair with bleached ends and the mug of a gritty action movie hero. He looked perfectly human, save for jet black eyes with demonic yellow irises. Cat yelped and tightened her grip on her friend's wrist. Jennie was looking for something to reply when he snapped his fingers, creating a lit cigarette out of thin air.
"Doesn't happen often. If you don't fancy living together ye'll have to bother the local Lord. A right git, that one."
"We're fine together." Reflexively answered Jenny. "And, huh...aren't you supposed to tell us what our sins are or something ?"
"Nobody cares what you did topside, luv. Hell reads people, not their resumes." He nonchalantly replied, blowing some smoke. "Let me guess. You were just two bloody tossers, indulged your base desires and couldn't be arsed to care about anything ?"
His assessment was pretty accurate, but the two young women weren't going to admit it. Not to a damned demon.
"Ha ha ha, don't fret." He snickered. "That's the right thing to be down here. You're not here for the eternal torment. Well, not to receive it, anyway."
He was dancing around the bush, but the girls came to understand all the same.
"No..." Meekly protested Catherine. "We...we're supp-p-posed to be d-d-d-emons ?"
"Cat's out of the bag, eh ?"
"But...that doesn't make any sense !" Shouted Jennie as she stood up. "I mean, we're no saints, okay, but we haven't dealt with the devil !"
"Doesn't matter. Everything you know about Brimstone Central is pretty much bollocks, and to be honest I don't fancy explaining it all to you. Boss got me by the short and curlies and wants a new succubus around here. If I don't start training one before sundown, I'm back to Hell's sweatiest armpits. So...I'm not letting you leave her before at least one of you signs up."
Silence. The incongruity of the situation had made Catherine and Jennie forget where they were for a second, but they now felt the appropriate dread again.
"A succubus ?" Cautiously inquired Jennie. "Like, what's the alternative ?"
"Normal demon. You get your bearings, find out what eternity has to offer, and start tormenting whoever best gets your panties in a wad. The succubus, on the other hand, will start working at me brothel and reeducated to think about nothing but shagging."
Catherine trembled and whimpered. Jennie let out a powerful sigh.
"Well then, best of luck with Hell's sweatiest armpit, dude."
She took Cat's hand and walked to the door right past the demon. Alas, one snap of his fingers turned the door into searing hellfire.
"Don't think so, luv. I might not be Lucifer but you're just two humans over here. I've got a legal mandate to turn one of you into a super-slut, and just so you know, Hell makes sexist, elderly conservative gits look like lesbians."
"I can see that." Replied Jennie with simmering rage.
"Tell you what, I'll make it easier for your doomed human sensibilities." He announced. "First one who says 'not it' gets freedom. And an eternity of sexual frustration, but what can you d..."
"ENOUGH !"
Jennie was red with outrage. What was this guy's deal ? Being a demon, obviously, but sometimes you have to push the obvious aside.
"Look, asshole, we just got fucking pulverized by a multiton metal b**st, we're not in the mood for some pimp with a shitty tie whose name we don't even now. We are not volunteering, and that is damn well fucking that, CAPICE ?"
If said pimp was at all intimidated by Jennie's display of willpower, he certainly didn't betray it when he took a whiff off his smoke and answered with a touch of disillusion.
"Name's Chrysaor, but it's a bit of a mouthful so Chris is fine. And I don't know, luv, looks to me your mate could use some sexual liberation."
"Eeek!"
Jennie looked over her shoulder, and saw Catherine doing her best tomato impression. She knew it was true - poor shy Cat was by no means asexual, just too terrified of meeting new people to consider the social game worth the prize. She liked the shadows, and relished Jennie's willingness to support her in exchange for companionship, validation and putting up with her howlingly drunk moments.
In short, she was an otaku in some of the worst meanings of the term. She considered a 24-hour anime marathon to be an active and meaningful day, and spent hours recreating fictional buildings in Minecraft. From the day she was fired for phoney reasons, her only "contribution" to the world was writing amateur hentai comics with the aid of truly fucked-up dildos. She was simply damaged goods, hurt by the undeniable proof that some people would rather ruin some poor handicapped girl's life than accepting that a pathological introvert was not an open-space worthy extravert waiting to happen. Jennie couldn't understand introverts herself, but she knew, at least, that Catherine was her friend, and always would be.
And now, both the boozehound con-girl and the perverted otaku stood at the gates of Hell, at least one of them doomed to become succubi. The prospect wasn't entirely revolting, mind - it entailed supreme beauty, after all, did it not ? But it just carried this...repugnant load of subjugation, of being reduced to just a piece of tail. They knew they had to make a decision, even if it was the stubborn refusal of one. But they just didn't know. Chrysaor was familiar this state of utter confusion, and knew the occasion to score a double consent when he saw one.
"Okay then, the one who says 'not it' gets to be the other's chaperone until graduation." This actually was common knowledge, but Chris liked presenting the granted as a bonus. "You'll need the other for when you're not entirely clear on who you are."
"Not int..."
"Training starts by giving you a whole new identity to help accept your eventual protean being." He continued, unfazed, before staring at the two girls with intense focus. "Lessee...Hmm, so, if Catherine's the one, I'll turn her into Jennie always wanted."
That one came as a kick to the head for the con girl. Right in her brain's gutter, where unwelcome desires fester and empathy goes to die. She did wish her best friend could be more like her, could share her love for badass tunes instead of those nauseatingly expressive Japanese comics. But she knew she couldn't push Cat towards it, even if it would have made their collective "fuck it all" tour across the country way easier.
Having this desire was bad enough, but having it laid bare in front of Cat, with her too shocked to even deny it to her no doubt bewildered friend was deeply distressing. Jennie couldn't bear looking at the introvert, afraid of the look she would get. But, worst of all...was the temptation. Maybe this was the way out for Trish. Maybe she needed this...Or maybe it was just Jennie on the brink of utter inhumanity.
"Aye, that's a nice glint in the eye, is it ?" Smiled Chris, proud of his manipulation skills, before turning to Catherine. "Don't worry, luv, I'll make it even. You give her to me instead, and I turn her into a cute Japanese girl."
Shy little Catherine's hidden desires weren't any purer than Jennie's. She loved her friend, no doubt about that, but she was...disappointingly 3D, you know ? And as supportive as she was, she was still more than a bit intimidating. Jennie would just be perfect if she was cute little Shinju-chan, the main character from her doujins. As independent and street smart as Jennie was, but so girly and cute. No more drunken slurs before bed.
"No ! I d-d-don't want that, I love Jen..."
"Me neither ! Cat is fine just the way she..."
Their gazes met. Their voices died down. The demon smiled.
"Funny thing about Hell number fifty-one : The Lord of Lies got his arse kicked out."
The opposing truck's headlights had morphed into a great white expanse after the deafening crash. There had been no pain, not even any sensation beyond utter surprise. Some drunk wanker had taken a turn way too hard and fast, right into the only other vehicle driving around at this ungodly hour. And wham, that was it for Jennie van Sant, and her best friend Catherine Belmont. Cause of death : Loss of third dimension.
A shame, really, but Jennie always knew her last words would go something like "FU-". She lived fast, loose and without much of a plan. She had been an emaciated twig with greasy, long dark hair in her teenage years.
Poor Catherine was pathologically shy. She was physically unremarkable, a solid 5 in every aspect, with the added bonus of a stammer and an innate fear to talk to strangers unless spoken to. Oh, she had been a well-meaning girl, ready to live the life you were supposed to in this day and age. She had found a job, tried to fit in...and got burned. Now she was withdrawn, dedicated only to her hobbies, but unable to fend for herself. As a result, Jennie had been conning for two for a good while now.
And now there was nothing but the light.
"J-j-jennie? What's hap-p-penning ?"
The girl was startled by her friend's voice. How could she hear her ? Both of their bodies were bound to look like toothpaste by now.
"...I'm pretty sure we just died, Cat. Fucking drunk trucker hit our pick-up head-on. Sorry."
The only answer Jennie gets is a pained little whine. No wonder.
"So I guess we're going to find out what's at the end of the tunnel, heh ?"
"...I'm n-not in any hurry, Jen."
"Whaat ? You think we're going to Hell ? Come on, we may be lowlives, but we're not evil !"
"Maybe b-b-but...I mean, we're f-f-falling..."
Jennie's eyes shot open.
"Holy shit, you're right."
She couldn't see TCat in this blinding light, or indeed distinguish anything at all, but her senses didn't lie...they were, indeed, falling. Which, given the context, couldn't possibly be good news. And while Jennie's Sunday-school-related knowledge was as hazy as it was secondhand, she was quite sure that Hell had a fairly inclusive admittance policy.
"Oh shit oh shit oh..."
And with that realization, the light turned into a sea of fire.
"...FUUUUUUUUCK !"
They were high up in the air. Way, way high. High enough to see the curve of a planet of glowing magma inside an immeasurably huge red cavern. In Earth terms, they were higher than the International Space Station. Yet they could breathe...and they sure as hell could fall.
Trisha, afraid of heights since c***dhood, was screaming her lungs out, scratching her own face frantically but unable to wake up. Jenny was too mesmerized by the sheer, gut-punching unreality of the scene for its terror to sink in.
Six hundred kilometers. Five hundred and ninety-nine kilometers. Even at terminal velocity, the fall was slow enough for the rocker to see small islands break the lava's surface, connected by thin stripes of land. Were they inhabited ? Hard to tell since everything was on fire, but the island they were falling towards formed a perfect, half-circled shape. That clearly screamed artificial.
That was the extent of Jennie's analysis before the thought of hitting the floor sank in, and her brain switched to panic mode. The half-circle was closing in fast, and the joys of skydiving were, let's say, mitigated by the fact that it was clearly just the beginning of Hell's torments. She closed her eyes as soon as the first buildings became visible, and missed the rooftop of the one in the center opening.
Jennie and Catherine spent several seconds processing what had just happened. The bed was soft, but when you fall at terminal velocity, weren't you supposed to superdie even when hitting water ? And sure, you weren't supposed to die in Hell, but you were definitely supposed to suffer. Was this some sort of trick ?
They were in a red bedroom, with a comfortable king-sized bed and the basic amenities of an hotel room. And sure, hotels can suck sometimes, but calling them Hell would be somewhat of a reach.
But as they wondered what exactly this painless fall revealed about the mechanics of this place, the door to the small bedroom opened.
"Hmm ? Two birds in one stone, eh ?"
A man in his early thirties, sporting a white shirt and black tie combo, short, black hair with bleached ends and the mug of a gritty action movie hero. He looked perfectly human, save for jet black eyes with demonic yellow irises. Cat yelped and tightened her grip on her friend's wrist. Jennie was looking for something to reply when he snapped his fingers, creating a lit cigarette out of thin air.
"Doesn't happen often. If you don't fancy living together ye'll have to bother the local Lord. A right git, that one."
"We're fine together." Reflexively answered Jenny. "And, huh...aren't you supposed to tell us what our sins are or something ?"
"Nobody cares what you did topside, luv. Hell reads people, not their resumes." He nonchalantly replied, blowing some smoke. "Let me guess. You were just two bloody tossers, indulged your base desires and couldn't be arsed to care about anything ?"
His assessment was pretty accurate, but the two young women weren't going to admit it. Not to a damned demon.
"Ha ha ha, don't fret." He snickered. "That's the right thing to be down here. You're not here for the eternal torment. Well, not to receive it, anyway."
He was dancing around the bush, but the girls came to understand all the same.
"No..." Meekly protested Catherine. "We...we're supp-p-posed to be d-d-d-emons ?"
"Cat's out of the bag, eh ?"
"But...that doesn't make any sense !" Shouted Jennie as she stood up. "I mean, we're no saints, okay, but we haven't dealt with the devil !"
"Doesn't matter. Everything you know about Brimstone Central is pretty much bollocks, and to be honest I don't fancy explaining it all to you. Boss got me by the short and curlies and wants a new succubus around here. If I don't start training one before sundown, I'm back to Hell's sweatiest armpits. So...I'm not letting you leave her before at least one of you signs up."
Silence. The incongruity of the situation had made Catherine and Jennie forget where they were for a second, but they now felt the appropriate dread again.
"A succubus ?" Cautiously inquired Jennie. "Like, what's the alternative ?"
"Normal demon. You get your bearings, find out what eternity has to offer, and start tormenting whoever best gets your panties in a wad. The succubus, on the other hand, will start working at me brothel and reeducated to think about nothing but shagging."
Catherine trembled and whimpered. Jennie let out a powerful sigh.
"Well then, best of luck with Hell's sweatiest armpit, dude."
She took Cat's hand and walked to the door right past the demon. Alas, one snap of his fingers turned the door into searing hellfire.
"Don't think so, luv. I might not be Lucifer but you're just two humans over here. I've got a legal mandate to turn one of you into a super-slut, and just so you know, Hell makes sexist, elderly conservative gits look like lesbians."
"I can see that." Replied Jennie with simmering rage.
"Tell you what, I'll make it easier for your doomed human sensibilities." He announced. "First one who says 'not it' gets freedom. And an eternity of sexual frustration, but what can you d..."
"ENOUGH !"
Jennie was red with outrage. What was this guy's deal ? Being a demon, obviously, but sometimes you have to push the obvious aside.
"Look, asshole, we just got fucking pulverized by a multiton metal b**st, we're not in the mood for some pimp with a shitty tie whose name we don't even now. We are not volunteering, and that is damn well fucking that, CAPICE ?"
If said pimp was at all intimidated by Jennie's display of willpower, he certainly didn't betray it when he took a whiff off his smoke and answered with a touch of disillusion.
"Name's Chrysaor, but it's a bit of a mouthful so Chris is fine. And I don't know, luv, looks to me your mate could use some sexual liberation."
"Eeek!"
Jennie looked over her shoulder, and saw Catherine doing her best tomato impression. She knew it was true - poor shy Cat was by no means asexual, just too terrified of meeting new people to consider the social game worth the prize. She liked the shadows, and relished Jennie's willingness to support her in exchange for companionship, validation and putting up with her howlingly drunk moments.
In short, she was an otaku in some of the worst meanings of the term. She considered a 24-hour anime marathon to be an active and meaningful day, and spent hours recreating fictional buildings in Minecraft. From the day she was fired for phoney reasons, her only "contribution" to the world was writing amateur hentai comics with the aid of truly fucked-up dildos. She was simply damaged goods, hurt by the undeniable proof that some people would rather ruin some poor handicapped girl's life than accepting that a pathological introvert was not an open-space worthy extravert waiting to happen. Jennie couldn't understand introverts herself, but she knew, at least, that Catherine was her friend, and always would be.
And now, both the boozehound con-girl and the perverted otaku stood at the gates of Hell, at least one of them doomed to become succubi. The prospect wasn't entirely revolting, mind - it entailed supreme beauty, after all, did it not ? But it just carried this...repugnant load of subjugation, of being reduced to just a piece of tail. They knew they had to make a decision, even if it was the stubborn refusal of one. But they just didn't know. Chrysaor was familiar this state of utter confusion, and knew the occasion to score a double consent when he saw one.
"Okay then, the one who says 'not it' gets to be the other's chaperone until graduation." This actually was common knowledge, but Chris liked presenting the granted as a bonus. "You'll need the other for when you're not entirely clear on who you are."
"Not int..."
"Training starts by giving you a whole new identity to help accept your eventual protean being." He continued, unfazed, before staring at the two girls with intense focus. "Lessee...Hmm, so, if Catherine's the one, I'll turn her into Jennie always wanted."
That one came as a kick to the head for the con girl. Right in her brain's gutter, where unwelcome desires fester and empathy goes to die. She did wish her best friend could be more like her, could share her love for badass tunes instead of those nauseatingly expressive Japanese comics. But she knew she couldn't push Cat towards it, even if it would have made their collective "fuck it all" tour across the country way easier.
Having this desire was bad enough, but having it laid bare in front of Cat, with her too shocked to even deny it to her no doubt bewildered friend was deeply distressing. Jennie couldn't bear looking at the introvert, afraid of the look she would get. But, worst of all...was the temptation. Maybe this was the way out for Trish. Maybe she needed this...Or maybe it was just Jennie on the brink of utter inhumanity.
"Aye, that's a nice glint in the eye, is it ?" Smiled Chris, proud of his manipulation skills, before turning to Catherine. "Don't worry, luv, I'll make it even. You give her to me instead, and I turn her into a cute Japanese girl."
Shy little Catherine's hidden desires weren't any purer than Jennie's. She loved her friend, no doubt about that, but she was...disappointingly 3D, you know ? And as supportive as she was, she was still more than a bit intimidating. Jennie would just be perfect if she was cute little Shinju-chan, the main character from her doujins. As independent and street smart as Jennie was, but so girly and cute. No more drunken slurs before bed.
"No ! I d-d-don't want that, I love Jen..."
"Me neither ! Cat is fine just the way she..."
Their gazes met. Their voices died down. The demon smiled.
"Funny thing about Hell number fifty-one : The Lord of Lies got his arse kicked out."
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