candlelight. Then a man, equally hairless, joined the woman’s side and put an comradely arm about the woman’s shoulder…
It was Kyle!
His grin radiated like a knife-flash. Erect genitals bobbed as he leaned further to explain: “We’d love to join in, Donna, but we can’t.”
“We’re busy,” added the grinning bald woman.
And Kyle: “We’ve got to get dinner ready.”
What they said made no sense. Donna, though, didn’t care. She felt inclined to concentrate on her lust. Huge penises worked in and out of both of her lower entries, while a third plowed so far down her throat she thought sure it was in her belly. The exploding flood of warmth made her think further, then the slackening member was extracted only to be replaced by another.
In the distance, she noted more figures—inhumanly large eyes widened upon the spectacle of the low bed. They were…
The bald man and woman parted, bringing in trays of steaming kabobs, chunky soups, filets of seasoned meats. Seductive aromas wafted in the air. Rich sauces steamed above garnished, silver-plattered helpings.
Yet the
Next, a penis large as a typewriter platen eased into her sex; a greased fist popped into her rectum. Donna’s orgasms began to beat her to a pulp. Two long fingers stretched her mouth wide as yet another penis dropped strings of semen down her outstretched tongue.
Stringent liquor was poured next into her throat. Her desires rekindled; her breasts swelled in the same way ripe fruits burst to release their gush of seeds. More mouths, a veritable succession of them, lined up to suck her toes, her nipples and navel, her clitoris which ached as though it had been squeezed by a pair of pliers…
“It’s just a dream,” she whispered aloud.
Kyle’s bald head returned to Donna’s field of vision. An amethyst jewel hung from a silver chain about his neck, and when the bald woman joined Kyle, a similar stone glittered like a purple eye sunk into her navel.
“It’s just a dream!” Donna shrieked in unison with the next string of climaxes.
Kyle grinned above her.
“Hey, baby,” he said, “I hate to tell you this, but this ain’t no dream.”
— | — | —
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
MAGWYTH: A unique and immortal factotum, also known as The Servant of Demons. A second-generational demon himself, Magwyth is reported to be the chief purveyor of pleasures for the better-regarded occupants of the abyss. Though God rules in heaven, certainly Satan rules in hell, and his favorites he allows, whenever possible, the utmost liberties. Magwyth, in other words, has been trusted since time immemorial to serve his master’s favorites with whatever pleasures they desire, and at the expense, of course, of the less smiled-upon tenants of the netherworld—a luciferic pimp, in other words.
Vera squinted at the words, faintly amused. Naturally the name Magwyth had flagged her attention.
Magwyth’s appearance is not known, though it is known that he works with underlings, two vassals who assist him with his eternal duties: the Zyramon—the hermaphroditic offspring of the notorious owl-like demon Amon. The Zyramon is known to be quite sexual in her antics, reputed to
