Lonely Week Night
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Jailbreak free porn video
Jailbreak
Megan Roman
Inspired by the picture "Jailbreak" found on Prinny77's deviantart site
(http://prinny77.deviantart.com/)
Steffie knew she hadn't lived a perfect life. For 21 years, she had
spent pretty much every day indoors, either watching TV, reading, or
playing videogames. She had no friends, no money, and no social life,
and meeting her end by accidentally touching a broken power strip did
nothing to change her activity level.
Hell didn't seem like a logical result, however. She knew sloth was a
sin, but three weeks into her eternal imprisonment in those sunless
lands, she realized she had been sent to Hell for being a couch potato.
That didn't seem right to her.
Hell was not a place for right things, though. Four weeks in, she saw
Gandhi. Just like that, out of nowhere, there was the guy Ben Kingsley
once played in a movie. He was shuffled off somewhere before Steffie
could get a better look at him or say anything to him, but she was
pretty darn sure it was him. She poked her head out from between the
bars of her cell. "Was that Gandhi?!" she cried to Grothos the Flayer.
On her third day in Hell, Steffie spat in her torturer's face and told
him her Greek grandfather had taught her that the word "grothos" meant
asshole. Grothos responded to this by pulling out all of her toenails.
Things (i.e., body parts) that get torn up or pulled out can grow right
back in in Hell, so he was able to promise that it would not be the
last time. On that first day, it was agonizing pain. On the twenty-
second, it smarted. Steffie quickly realized that as far as torture
goes, it's best to stick with what's predictable, so she kept screaming
every time he did it anyway. The lean, muscular, horned demon with the
pale greenish-gray skin took a quick break from his harlequin romance
novel to sneer at her. "No talking, slave!"
"...Eh..." Steffie sunk. "Jeez, Grothos. Y'know, we're going to be
here together for all eternity. You could at least make a little
conversation."
Grothos spun around and marched to her cell. She quickly backpedaled
into it. "I will not be casually addressed by scum like you!" Grothos
unlocked the cell and barged in. The skinny girl was powerless against
the demon as he seized her by the neck and pinned her against the hard
stone wall. "You will refer to me as Master, or Master Grothos, or
Lord Grothos, or Master Grothos the Flayer, or-"
This had happened before, too. Hell was not a place for right things,
but it was a place for repetition. Steffie had considered that maybe
that was part of the torture for her couch-potato ways: eventual, then
eternal, boredom. Until then, however, getting waved around by a demon
like a rag doll was pretty damn scary. "-Or My Master, or My Master
Grothos, or My Master Lord Grothos, or My Master Lord Grothos the
Flayer, or-"
Then, she saw it again.
On her fifth day in Hell, while Grothos was screaming at her for...
something (it doesn't matter what), she saw something shining in his
mouth. It was bright like fire, but shimmering like a jewel, and it
was way down in his throat. She had no idea what it was, but she
thought it was beautiful. Steffie had seen enough of Hell to know that
beautiful things didn't live here, so seeing something beautiful hiding
out -- even if it was inside a demon, of all things -- was actually
kind of nice. But, again, it was inside a demon, which was too bad.
Too bad.
Maybe it was too "too bad," because suddenly, Steffie felt a flash of
anger. This asshole was keeping nice things hidden away, and here she
was getting her toenails pulled out for binging on Netflix! Did that
seem right to her? Would that seem right to anyone? The answer to
both questions is the same: Hell, no! "-Or The Great Grothos, or The
Great Lord Grothos, or My Master The Great-!"
Steffie balled up her fist and shoved it directly into Grothos' wide
mouth. She was afraid that he would counterattack quickly by simply
biting her. One snap of his pointed teeth could probably take off her
arm, so she reached as far back and down as fast as she could and
brushed against his uvula. Steffie's plan worked: Grothos gagged,
preventing him from closing his mouth. He gripped her neck tighter,
however. Before he could collapse her windpipe, her knuckles bumped
against something hard within. She frantically grabbed and gripped it,
then yanked her arm back out.
"Aaaggh-garr!!" Grothos yelled, dropping Steffie on the floor and
backing up while gripping his own throat. "Slave!! What have you
done?!" Steffie wasn't sure. She looked at the thing in her hand, and
found it to be a small, translucent sphere, about the size of a
clementine, with a bright, shimmering light near its center. "Give
that back!!" Grothos stumbled forward to grab it, or her, or
something. Steffie was on her ass, and she knew from experience that
he was both stronger and faster than her. She had nothing in her cell
with which to defend herself. She didn't even have clothes on her
back. All she had was this small, strange jewel that she had pulled
out of her torturer's throat.
Steffie shoved it in her mouth and swallowed it. "No!!" Grothos cried,
then stumbled backward again and let out a mighty bellow: "Guh-
uuuuaaaarrrggghhh!!"
Steffie felt nothing for a couple seconds after swallowing the jewel.
Suddenly, she felt a burst of energy in her arms and legs. She stood
up as fast as the wind and felt the energy spread to her head. In an
instant, every sensation in that small, dark, lonely cell became ten
times more powerful. She could smell the rot and the mold. She could
taste the dry, dusty air. She could feel the heat radiating off of
every surface. She could see every little ripple of muscle on her
tormentor's body. Her hands felt thicker, somehow, like there was more
stuff in there. She looked up her arm, and was surprised to see muscle
where she had expected there to be her usual skinny, scraggly self.
"Slaaaaaaave!!" Grothos screamed, then charged Steffie full-steam.
Strangely, Steffie didn't feel scared. Even when she was bored, she
felt that constant undercurrent of fear and despair, but not this time.
This time, she felt strong. This time, she felt capable.
When Grothos was just two feet from her, Steffie raised one hand,
faster than even her eye could see, and grabbed him by the horn. He
froze for a split-second, and in that split-second Steffie cranked her
arm around his head, twisting his neck and tearing his head clean off
his shoulders.
Steffie suddenly felt jarred, as if someone had shaken her awake.
Grothos' body stood upright for a few seconds, still balancing on its
feet. Nervously, Steffie pushed lightly against the chest, and it
toppled backward onto the floor. "-Hah!" Steffie chirped, staring at
the thing in horror. Suddenly, she realized she was still holding the
demon's head -- she tossed it away and let out a louder "Haaaahh!!"
She couldn't believe it. She just couldn't believe it. She killed
him. She killed that bastard Grothos with barely a thought. She
looked down at her hands and arms, and she found her new muscle tone
was still there. It was all over her body, too -- it was like the
little couch potato had blossomed into an athlete, or at least someone
who gave a crap about things like diet and exercise. All she had to do
to get the body she wanted was die by electrocution, go to Hell, get
tortured, then kill a demon with her bare hands. Who knew? Gymnasiums
be damned, literally!
Steffie didn't feel bad at all about what she'd done. Hell was nothing
but torture -- there was no economy, no social scene, no art; only
torturers, the tortured, and torture -- and Grothos seemed to be
exclusively focused on torturing Steffie. Ever since she had arrived,
she had virtually never been tortured by any other demon, other than
that one time Grothos had swapped out with a blob monster-demon-thing
to use the restroom. Other demons hardly ever showed up to her cell.
It was like the guy had a hard-on for torturing her alone. Then again,
she was pretty sure that was the way it worked in Hell: one victim to
every monster.
(Sometimes, she considered that maybe he was some kind of manifestation
of her own sin, and that maybe the whole structure of Hell was actually
built around sinners torturing themselves. If that were the case,
though, why'd he have such crappy taste in literature? I mean,
seriously, this is the sort of thing he read: "He took her in his
vampire-werewolf arms. 'I vant to bite you,' he howled, 'but I also
vant to marry you!'" Read aloud, that passage alone had been enough to
make her scream for mercy.)
(Steffie realized the manifestation thing made a lot of sense.)
Though not remorseful, Steffie was curious about what she'd done.
There was no blood or guts leaking out of her tormentor's body or head.
She touched his chest and found it was still warm. His skin was rough
and coarse, like sandpaper. Something was missing, though. She pushed
his arm, and it moved too easily. She grabbed him by the shoulder and
lifted him, and he was incredibly lightweight. It had the right shape,
but this wasn't the body of a creature that could lift her while it was
alive. Where had his muscles gone?
It suddenly came to her: she had them. That strange jewel she found
inside his throat had given her his strength and speed when she
swallowed it. The new, more powerful Steffie flexed her muscles. I
have demon powers, she thought.
Coooool!
She also had a demon corpse, which was problematic, to say the least.
She wasn't expecting anyone or anything else to drop by, but she
couldn't just leave it here. Someone or something would come around
eventually, and they'd find one dead demon and one human missing.
Steffie wasn't sure what they'd do to a demon-murdering escapee, but it
couldn't possibly be good. She checked the stones that lined her cell,
but she couldn't pry any out. There was nothing outside her cell but a
small, medieval-looking wooden table and a uselessly tiny chair. There
was one window, but it was barred and looking out onto a barren
landscape that couldn't hide anything. Steffie tried to pull the bars
out regardless, but they were too firmly secured. The only way to
escape, and the only way to hide the body, was through the door into
the rest of wherever in Hell she was, and that wouldn't serve either
purpose.
Steffie considered her severely limited options. Her eyes fell on the
dead demon's body, and they stayed there. She took another close look,
this time inside his jagged neck-hole. Never mind that he wasn't
bleeding -- he didn't have any organs or skeleton! All Steffie saw
inside Grothos was a dark, empty space, and a juicy red lining under
his skin. She wasn't sure how he had stayed alive. She figured it was
probably another side-effect of her swallowing the jewel. I really do
feel heavier, she thought. I must have absorbed his whole body, except
for the outer...
She had an idea. It was weird. Really weird. She didn't like it, but
she didn't really like anything anymore. She picked up his body and
carried it over to the table, which she sat on. His skin was tough,
but she was worried that she'd tear it as she stretched out the open
neck-hole. Fortunately, it didn't tear at all. She flopped him around
a bit until his feet were almost touching the floor, took a deep
breath, then plunged feet-first into the neck-hole.
Steffie slid into the skin like a glove. The juiciness inside
lubricated her entry as her legs went into his like a pair of pants.
The lining changed as her body slid into it: in the beginning it was
red and semi-solid, but it seemed like her body heat turned it pink and
goopy. It was cold and had kind of a chemical smell to it, but that
wasn't nearly enough to stop her.
After her stomach slid into his, she paused and stood up, letting
herself settle in. She slipped her hands under his armpits to keep him
from slipping off. Her feet settled into his feet, her calves into his
calves, her thighs into his thighs, her waist and crotch into his waist
and crotch...
Steffie was in shock. With one hand, she reached down cautiously and
brushed his fur loincloth. Something flopped around underneath.
Gingerly, she peeled back the loincloth, and all 10 inches of Grothos'
glory flopped out. "Eh-heee!" Steffie giggled, pleasantly surprised.
Her tormentor had never shown this off before! "I'm gonna... gonna
have some fun with you later," she purred, drooling a little.
Before doing anything else, Steffie stuck one arm, then the other, into
Grothos' shoulders. With one big shrug, she shoved her arms all the
way down into his hands, the motion of which pulled up Grothos' chest
the rest of the way. Pulling up his chest felt a little like
scratching her own skin with sandpaper, but she had been tortured with
far, far worse than that. Her breasts had always been tiny, so getting
them in wasn't a problem.
Grothos' body covered Steffie's perfectly. His skin was so tight, and
the goopy lining inside him filled the space between them so well, that
from the neck down, Steffie looked exactly like the demon when he was
alive. She found she had full freedom of movement, dexterity, and even
a sense of touch. This surprised her most of all -- she could feel
through his skin, like it was her own. It kind of is my own, she
thought. I absorbed his insides, and now I'm wearing his outsides.
She had never taken stock of him like this, but he was actually pretty
good-looking from the neck down. His body looked young, lean, and fit,
even if he had scaly greenish-gray skin and a thick, reptilian tail.
She imagined that he was simply covered in full-body makeup. She
remembered all the pictures she had seen of sexy cosplayers who dressed
like this for sci-fi and fantasy conventions.
Is this later enough, she wondered. I really want to play...
No, I can't, she thought. I can't do that now. She imagined taking an
ice-cold shower, sucked it up, then breathed out slowly. Four weeks
without any "satisfaction" was a long time for her. Now, she was
wearing the weirdest, kinkiest costume that was anything beyond her
wildest imaginings, and... well, she couldn't think about that right
then and there. She was in Hell, after all. She had to find a way to
stay safe and get out. That was much more important.
After rubbing out her ninth load against the wall, Steffie was out of
breath, despite her new strength. It had been more intense than
anything she could get with a vibrator. She briefly wondered where she
had gotten her new "seed" from, but at that point, she was willing to
believe anything. It's magic, sure, she thought. Magic demon semen.
Steffie wiped her brow, and she knew she wasn't done yet. There was
still one more piece to her disguise, if she wanted to get anywhere
outside this room. She lifted Grothos' head off the floor and looked
at it. She noticed his eyes were missing, and even though his head had
kept its original shape, his skull was missing. The opening within the
head's neck-hole looked much tighter than the neck-hole opening into
the body. Steffie stuck her finger in there and found it parted much
more easily, though. She doubted this would work -- Grothos' head was
much bigger than hers, with much more widely-spaced eyes and a snake-
like snout and mouth. She imagined trying to wear it would make her
look like Kim Hunter in ape makeup -- sure, it worked in the movies,
but this was real life. When he was alive, the demon had had a skull
that was entirely different from that of a human.
"Eh," Steffie sighed, "I've got nothing to lose." She positioned the
head's neck-hole over her own scalp and pulled it down.
For a little while, Steffie could not breathe or see anything. All she
heard was a low thrumming sound instead of the distant buzzing and
screams that made up Hell's typical background noise. She remembered
his ears were positioned differently on his head as well. How would
she work her way around that? It just couldn't work. Grothos' body
was humanoid, but his head was... well, it was also humanoid, almost.
She briefly saw light. Steffie looked out of one of the eyeholes in
Grothos' head, but she couldn't see out of the other. She repositioned
the face so she could see out of the other eyehole, but not the first.
She shifted it a bit.
Suddenly, she could see out of both eyeholes.
"-Orraaaa," she gasped out of an unfamiliar mouth. She stuck out her
tongue, and something much longer than what she expected came out.
"Ah! Uhhh-" She swallowed, and her throat felt different. "Wh-what-"
Her voice sounded very different. "What is...?"
It was Grothos' voice. She was speaking in the demon's low, growling
voice. "Oh...!" Suddenly, she wasn't hearing the thrumming noises --
she was actually hearing things. She was smelling things. She touched
her face, and it felt longer, both vertically and horizontally. She
ran her tongue over her teeth, feeling razor-sharp points. "Oh!"
Grothos kept a small mirror in his loincloth -- he sometimes took it
out to pick things out of his teeth (like food, bugs, Steffie's severed
body parts, etc.). She pulled it out and looked at her face, and was
momentarily startled to see Grothos looking back at her. "Holy shit!"
she gasped, with his growl. She touched her new face and felt its
roughness, its flared nostrils and pointed ears. She tugged on the
horns and felt them pull on her scalp. I gotta be careful with those,
she thought. She saw movement in her neck, and she nervously watched
as the jagged seam grew back together into Grothos' normal, scaly skin.
Sealed within Grothos' skin, Steffie looked exactly like the demon,
from horned head to toe. "Ehhhnnn...," she groaned, afraid she was
trapped inside. She fingered her neck, rubbing it, scratching it, then
trying to tear it. She felt momentary pain as she forcefully yanked on
the skin, ripping it open a little, but she was relieved when she
discovered that under it and a layer of the goopy pink stuff was her
own recognizably human skin. She pulled her finger back out and after
a few seconds, the goopy pink stuff filled in the hole, and Grothos'
skin sealed back up.
That was a relief, but what delighted her came when she took another
look at her new face in the mirror. She looked at her eyes, which had
turned yellow and slitted, like a snake. She looked in his nose. She
looked in his mouth, at his yellowed teeth, forked tongue, uvula,
and... something else. She saw something strange when she looked in
the back of his throat. It wasn't where the jewel had been; no, it was
behind the uvula.
Teeth. Grothos had an extra set of teeth back there. They were a
normal-sized pair that were only visible if someone were looking
closely inside his mouth. Steffie opened his mouth wide to get a
better look at them.
To her happy surprise, they were her teeth! With the demon's mouth
opened wide, she found she could open and close her normal teeth, and
even see her own tongue and a little of her lips. "That's my mouth!"
she whispered, in her own voice. In that moment, she felt like she was
wearing a thick mask. In that moment, she felt happy as she remembered
she was still human. She closed the demon's mouth and felt her mouth
"slip" into his again
She looked in the mirror and felt revulsion at the sight of his face.
But only for a moment, because truthfully, she felt proud. She had
done something amazing. Steffie had not only defeated this monster,
she had conquered it. She had absorbed his powers and completely taken
over his body. She could slip in and out of his flesh whenever she
wanted. It's my body now, she thought. It's my alter ego. My Grothos
disguise. She wasn't sure what she could do in this disguise or where
she could go, but it had to be more than what she could do as plain old
Steffie. She had power, she felt that power, and it was greater than
anything she had ever felt before. She never could have guessed that
she'd have to die before she felt this alive.
"I am Grothos the Flayer!" she growled into the mirror in her Grothos-
voice, pumping herself up. "Yes! I am Grothos the Everlasting
Douchebag!" She threw up her arms and screamed, "I... am... Grothos!!
Lord of Cunts!! King of All Assholes!!"
"We get it, you're Grothos," someone in a nearby cell -- someone human
-- groaned.
"Silence, wretch!!" shrieked a gravelly-voiced demon. The human
screamed with pain for a few seconds, then went silent.
Steffie winced. "I-I'm Grothos the Flayer," she said softly, keeping
her voice down.
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