Abominations

An unnamed, bottomless horror had Stond's whole body in its cold grip, as the terrible female apparition studied him. His legs spread out wide and his arms above him, tight ropes around wrists and ankles, he could barely move. Could barely feel the chilly air on his naked body.

 

The creature's unnatural eyes of pure malice then turned down on his front, and a most hideous grin revealed cragged, filthy teeth.

 

Stond's eyes followed hers, to his own achingly hard cock. This terrible dark arousal that had enthralled him. It was evil. He knew it. Pure evil!

 

He squeezed his eyes closed. It all felt like an abhorrent nightmare. But he knew it was reality. Horrible, inescapable reality.

 

The truth was, he could only blame himself. After all, he had been warned direly about coming to these parts. This corner of the world, they said, was cursed, populated by unmentionable horrors that hunted men. But he had laughed at such talk, considered it superstition of the weak minded. All he knew is that cutting across these parts was the quickest way to his destination and that was all that mattered. A young man full of vigour, he was after his fortune and let nothing stand in his way, least of all old wive's tales.

 

Stond had needed a guide, however, and had been fortunate enough to be able to purchase a ride from a group of female warriors who said they knew their way around here. Even better, seeing that he was a quite handsome man, they had shown keen interest for his flesh. What better way to travel than having sex with all of them in turn at the back of the wagon! Although, when he though of it, they probably wouldn't have taken no for answer. Luckily was into it. He'd never before had four women at once.

 

Later, as he had been lying between the women, trying to decide whether or not he had just been raped, all spent and languid after vigorous lovemaking (they were demanding and ferocious women) he had suddenly become aroused again, his cock growing so hard that it hurt. It was strange, but not only was it far too early, there was a terrible anxiety going with it. As if the arousal itself was a form of terror.

 

As he had gotten uneasy, the women had smiled at his reactions. "Something wrong, lover boy?"

 

And then the wagon had come to a stop.

 

"What's this?" he had asked.

 

A knife had appeared on his throat.

 

"End of the line for you. Let's go."

 

They had forced him out of the wagon, naked, and he had been cursing his poor luck. Or more like his poor judgment. And now they were going to rob him.

 

He should have been that lucky!

 

Then, just as he had been about ask what they were waiting for, figures had emerged from the trees. Bandits, he had initially thought, but soon had seen his error.

 

And then the horror had struck him.

 

The things that walked out were not human. Their female nature was evident, as they were all naked. And perhaps indeed they had once been human. But there wasn't much humanity left in them. Tall and spindly with long limbs, bodies verging on emaciated. Saggy breasts, waxy sallow skin. Distorted and angular facial features with hideous teeth and unnaturally colored eyes.

 

Utter horrors!

 

"We brought you a gift!" one of the women had told the creatures.

 

With cold horror, he realized what she had meant. Him.

 

The eyes, he had seen then, of the abominations were all on his nakedness. And in those eyes was a hungry gleam.

 

"What is this!" he had asked the women, desperately.

 

"We have reached a sort of agreement," the women had explained. "They leave us alone and we bring them men. They seem to prefer them like we do, young, handsome and well-endowed. They are in luck this time. you're a real catch. It's almost a shame to give you up."

 

He hadn't been able to say anything. Too tongue-tied by sheer terror.

 

"Awww, poor thing. Maybe we should give him a fighting chance, girls."

 

The knife had come off his throat.

 

"Go on." A mocking whisper in his ear. "Run!"

 

And he had run. To where he thought the creatures were not. But they had been everywhere and caught up with him without trouble. To the sound of the women laughing.

 

He tried to fight, but never had any chance. Even one of the things was much stronger than him, and there were many. They lifted him as easily as a little child carried to be bound hand and foot to a carrying pole.

 

"Have fun with him!" the women had called as they had making their leave.

 

"And good luck, Stond! Pray it will be over soon."

 

"It won't be!"

 

There was such cruelty in their laughter.

 

And he had been brought here. A village of some kind. Taken to the center and tied to a sturdy wooden frame. Utterly helpless against what was going to happen next.

 

What were these things? What did they mean with him?

 

And he remembered. One of the people had told him a story. The story went that once a race of people had lived in these parts. Beautiful, tall, rich, and happy. And they had been cursed by a malicious, powerful witch. The curse had killed all the men and children, and turned the women into vile, vicious creatures who gave no mercy to anyone how happened to wander too close. Women they killed immediately. Men, something much worse.

 

Being told that story, he had laughed.

 

He wasn't laughing now.

 

Stond opened his eyes. The creature in front of him was staring at him. This one seemed like a leader of some kind. Maybe a queen, with that thing on her head. The only one who was dressed in any way. All around were countless others. All the attention on him. This demonic arousal, it was cause by their proximity. Part of the curse, it must had been.

 

"What do you--"

 

The words died on his lips as the queen gave Stond a hideous, blood-curdling grin. She barked something in a harsh language, gesturing at him with a bony hand.

 

Then the horrid creatures were all over him.

   

He could scarcely get a breath in, so overwhelming was the sensation of all those eager bony hands with long fingers and long jagged nails all over his naked body. There was scarcely an inch of him left unmolested, but most hands were going for the places that were the most vulnerable. The creatures vying over the right to violate his cock and balls, his anus, his nipples. Hands grabbing his hair, his face. Fingers going inside his mouth. All over, he was being scratched and pinched. The abominations forced back his foreskin and attacked the sensitive head of his cock, wet with arousal. Stond gasped hopelessly against the overwhelming sense of violation of his intimate parts thus invaded and desecrated. He could not have begun describe the awful sensation. Their touch alone engendered indescribable feelings of wrongness and terror. Their touch alone was nothing short of torture. It some dark magic. The same one to cause this unnatural, horrid arousal.

 

But he was utterly helpless against it. He could not help crying, the sound cut off by all the fingers invading his mouth, making him gag.

 

It wasn't only hands on him, but mouths as well. Licking and nibbling everywhere around him. In addition to the general unpleasantness of their teeth and tongues (the latter which felt coarse and abrasive) on his sensitized skin, the same wrongness which went with their touch in general applied here too.

 

Then mouths went for his cock and balls. Those coarse tongues. Those horrible teeth. And that feeling of pure evil. He screamed, or tried to. But it changed nothing. He was helpless.

 

There was no way to describe the agony of being the creature's hapless plaything. He felt as though he was being devoured from within as well as without. A complete inverse was was most sublime and holy about the human experience. Surely this was damnation, of which priests always warned about. Absolute desecration!

 

His head was bent forward by a hand clutching his hair. As if deliberately forcing him to look. Three creatures had their mouths on the head of his cock, two from the sides one in front: eagerly licking, sucking, biting. Hands pumped on the shaft. His nipples were sucked on, licked on, bitten on, by two creatures on each side of him. A hand from behind him had his balls in a tight grip, and his anus was being raped by several fingers (how many he could not begin to guess).

 

The things knew exactly what they were doing! And despite the hideousness of it all, he found that he could not close his eyes from the sight of it.

 

This was the worst kind of abuse he could have ever imagined!

 

Yet it only got worse. For he could shortly feel the awful feeling inside him grow and grow, building toward something. It was, he realized in abject terror, a powerful orgasm building up (if that word could even be done such injustice to as by pinning it on the absolute horror he could already tell it was going to be). And all his helplessness, the ghastly sight of the creatures abusing him, the pain, the fear, and the way he tried his best to resist it, all of that only made the feeling more powerful. His cock, trapped in the torture of their hands and mouth, was so hard and so big, more so than he though it had ever been!

 

And then it happened.

 

A deep cry of terror and torment tore out from deep within him just as a hideous convulsion of soul-wrenching agony, pulsing out from his genitals to the very tips of his toes and fingers and his scalp, took over his being. Never had he imagined such a torturous sensation could even exist. It was not pain in the usual sense, it was something far worse. Like his very soul was under torture. He tried to scream but a hand clapped hard in front of his mouth stopped him. Then another hand clasped his nose so that he could not even breathe. All that was left for him to do was to bodily convulse, twist, and shake, while he at once feared and wished he would soon die.

 

With the orgasm, semen had squirted out of him with terrifying force. The creatures devoured it eagerly, sucking it from deep within his cock as though sucking out his entire essence and spirit. And even while his whole being was in agony, he still felt the most minute and worse aspect of it in that most vulnerable part of his anatomy, which the creatures still tortured without respite or mercy with their lips, tongues and teeth.

 

And in spite of all this, that arousal which so had bewitched him, from all this abuse, it only seemed to grow. And the creatures showed no inclination of stopping. They did not even slow down.

 

The torture went on and on.

 

---

 

Stond had suffered through several of those horrendous unholy mockeries of orgasm in the creatures' clutches. Some from their ghastly mouths, some from being masturbated by their revolting, skeletal hands. Each climax of agony, though he could hardly believe it, had been more awful than the last. And there had never been the faintest shadow of doubt that the abominations had taken enormous pleasure from his abject suffering.

 

Now they had allowed him a moment of respite, although this too was wrought with hopeless misery. He hung there in his bondage, sobbing. His whole body feeling as though afire. Utterly ravished throughout. Yet the arousal still held him. His abused cock as hopelessly hard as it had ever been. The dark evil clutched tight around his hopeless heart.

 

He didn't think things could get any worse.

 

Stond became aware, then, of something standing in front of him but he had not the strength nor the courage to lift up his head. But then his hair was grabbed without gentleness and his head lifted for him. He recoiled in terror as he was again faced with the creature he had in his mind dubbed the Queen.

 

The Queen placed its abhorrent, uncannily long-fingered hands around his face, studying him. He could not help looking into those horrid eyes. How could any sight in this world hold such terror!

 

The thing was visibly pleased by what it saw. Taking pleasure of Stond's horror and misery. It grinned terribly, then hissed something in its foul, guttural language. Then it let go of Stond's head and instead took hold of his cock.

 

Stond whimpered at the feeling of its hand wrapping around his sore, aching cock. The unnatural evil of its touch. The Queen grinned, giving him a few agonizing strokes. Then, with its other hand squeezed around his balls, it slowly dragged its nails across the cock's length from the base to the tip, while Stond cried out. He cried even harder as the Queen ended its maneuver with a hard slap across the head.

 

The awful sound that erupted around him, like the death rattles of a hundred dying ravens, he soon understand to be laughter.

 

Still holding painfully tight on Stond's balls, the Queen addressed the creatures around. When she was done, another evil sound erupted from the creatures. This Stond took for a cheer. All of the abominations were grinning at him. His very soul recoiled in horror at that, yet his body was helpless at their disposal.

 

Then there was some bustle around. Giving him another ghastly grin, the Queen released Stond's balls and stepped away. The commotion struck alarm in his heart, as he well suspected something nasty was afoot. And soon he realized that many of the creatures were now holding objects in their hands. Then they were gathering around closer again with those objects.

 

A wail came out of Stond as he realized what the objects were.

 

Whips.

  

Stond was shrieking. At relentless pace, leather whips struck all over his naked flesh. Even in normal circumstances, such a trashing would have been agonizing to bear. But he felt as though the curse which had his body and soul in its grip made it even worse; not only did it make him feel more sensitive and vulnerable, but the powerful non-arousal that he felt only seemed to grow with physical pain. As though he body interpreted the pain as arousing, yet his mind interpreted that arousal itself as sheer torture. It made whatever he experienced infinitely worse. This was not like hell. This WAS hell!

 

The dark rapture in the creature's faces was such that he now suspected the pleasure took from his pain went beyond simple sadism. It was almost as if the drew physical pleasure from it, as though they would feel his pain and experienced it as their own pleasure. The more they hurt him the more enraptured they themselves became.

 

Whips struck him everywhere and he trashed heedlessly in his bondage, crying from deep within. Only his genitals, far as he could tell in his extremity, were spared. This did not keep him from being acutely aware, underneath all other other misery, that his cock was still ragingly hard, and this pain and torment only made sure it was going to stay that way.

 

Then finally, after a small eternity, the agonizing onslaught stopped. As Stond stopped bracing against the pain, he slumped in his binds, crying. His whole body afire from the merciless whipping.

 

As he then opened his eyes, he started at the sight of the Queen, along with two other of the creatures, having come close to him. They then put their awful hands on him, touching all over his painful, whipped skin. His cries seemed to please them so, the way they eyed him as he writhed under their touch.

 

The Queen's hands went to his aching cock again. He gasped. He would never get used to the feeling of their hands invading his most private body part. Even with the other creatures' hands exploring his stinging, burning skin, he whimpered at the sensation of the Queen's fingers wrapping around the head of his cock as the creature stroked it with slow deliberateness. Feeling utterly raped.

 

Then, its hand squeezed tightly around the base, the Queen's terrible eyes met with Stond's, and the monster gave him a sideways grin. It extended its hand over to the side, addressing its mates. To Stond's terror, they handed it a short whip.

 

"No, no, no, no please!"

 

His cries brought visible pleasure to the creatures.

 

The two others also took short whips, and the three stepped to stand in front of Stond. From behind, one creature grabbed his balls with one hand and the base of his cock with the other. It pushed the cock forward, presenting it to the ones with the whips. Another one took hold of his head, clapping a hand over his mouth, and a third put both arms around him to take his nipples into its fingertips.

 

And the three creatures in front started whipping his erect cock.

 

He screamed into the hand over his mouth. It periodically released him to air out his cries, then closing again. The deeply invasive attention on his nipples made the unbearable pain on his cock even worse. His body remained extremely aroused by this, and the arousal itself was sheer horror. He staid incredibly hard through it all.

 

All around, those directly involved and those only observing, the abominations all wore expressions and made sounds of pleasure and glee over his torture. Which felt as though it would never end.

  

For another unbearable little eternity the creatures had been whipping his genitals. Mostly his cock but periodically the creature behind him had held his balls for punishment as well.

 

Now he cried as the grinning Queen once again took hold of his genitals; grabbing both his cock and his balls into its hideous hands. It held him there for a moment, in firm grip, as if emphasizing to him his helpless position in its hands, as if that needed any more emphasis. Then a long string of saliva came out of its mouth and landed on the head. Stond gasped, as the feeling was like burning hot liquid hitting him. Then Queen's spindly fingers wrapped around the head, rubbing the saliva in, and started again to stroke the dreadfully sore cock. Stond whimpered piteously at the wet cockhead being stroked, while the two other creatures two plucked at his nipples. The combined effect was horrible. He fetl on some level like he'd never been touched at all before this. The touch feeling oddly fresh. And indescribably awful. Yet he could still feel the impacts of the whips at the same time.

 

Hands came from behind him to force him to look at Queen as she stroked. It studied him while tormenting his cock. Enjoying its power over him, the sight of its abomination of a face, that grin, those eyes, those nasty teeth, making things infinitely worse. Making him aroused, making him terrfied. It was as if the Queen knew by every minute detail his terror, humiliation and anguish, and drew physical pleasure from it. By torturing him it pleasured itself.

 

Soon Stond was close to cumming again. And just as he thought that cumming like this would be the worst yet, the creature grinned. Then it dug its nails in the cockhead, while the others did the same to his nipples. It was agony, and Stond screamed, trying hopelessly to twist away, getting nowhere. His head kept in place, the creature still studying him. Enjoying itself.

 

Stond could not help himself but begged, begged, and pleaded for them to stop, to stop the pain and the agony, handing there helpless, his legs spread out and arms above him, in their cruel hands. Crying out desperately. There was no indication if they understood his words but they clearly understood his meaning. And they drew great pleasure from it, as if his torture was the highest form of joy for them. And so they did not relent.

 

Until finally they did, letting him slump sobbing once again.

 

But more was coming. The Queen barked something, a command. Then something was carried closer.

 

Stond had thought his desperation had reached its pinnacle. But he had been wrong. He wailed as he saw what was brought over.

 

A brazier, full of glowing embers. The creatures pulled out long irons with brightly glowing heads and surrounded him.