DISCLAIMER: The following is fiction. The content of the story is not representative of the writer’s beliefs, opinions, or attitudes. This story is intended for adult entertainment only. The characters and events depicted in this work are fictional. The author does not condone or promote any unlawful activity such as is depicted in the story. By continuing to read this work you acknowledge that you are an adult who wishes to read works of fantasy and fiction for the purpose only of fantasy. All the characters in this story are adults. They may play different ages for the fictional character that they are depicting but they remain at all times adults. All Rights Reserved © 2023 LITTLESALLY666.
STORY CODES: Blasphemy, Sacrilege, Young, Incest, Rape, Sadism, Sexual Torture, WS, Scat, Supernatural, Demonic, Satanic, Abuse, Corruption, Evil, Devil Worship, NC, Sexual Sin, Sex Demons.
CREATED: 17.12.2019 / REVISITED: 24.07.2023
Five Demons 5
FIVE DEMONS – SYNOPSIS
We’ve all seen A Christmas Carol. A ghost story of Christmas. This novella by Charles Dickens was first published in London in 1843. It recounts the story of Scrooge, who is visited by the spirits of Christmas Past, Present, and Yet to Come. After their visits, Scrooge is pleasantly transformed and everyone lives happily ever after…
Well, this ain’t that story.
Five Demons is a story of a pious cenobitic priest, who over time has become disillusioned with the whole ‘Heaven and Hell’ thing. And in this delicate time, as his faith falters, he is visited via his dreams (or nightmares) by five demons. Transported to different times of his life, the demons have been sent to increasingly corrupt his heart, mind, and soul. Eventually, as the last bastions of his faith are lost, will he be finally liberated and willingly becomes a servant of Satan in Hell?
CHAPTER FIVE – QUINQUE DAEMONIUM (4,015 WORDS)
Satan also known as the Devil, Lucifer, Beelzebub, and Mephistopheles, is an entity in the Abrahamic religions that tempts and seduces humans into sin. Satan is often identified as the serpent in the Garden of Eden as the Archangel Samael. Banished by god, he takes revenge and tempts Adam and Eve into sexual sin using the Apple of Carnal Knowledge.
He has often been shown in early medieval Christian art with horns, cloven hooves, unusually hairy legs, and a tail, often naked and holding a pitchfork. A more contemporary image of Satan is that of the ‘burning figure’ or ‘burning phallus’. Satan is sexual and erotic … using many forms to tempt and corrupt both men and women into lives of sin and therefore an eternity of damnation.
1 Corinthians chapter 7 verses 5 says, “Do not deprive each other except perhaps by mutual consent and for a time, so that you may devote yourselves to prayer. Then come together again so that Satan will not tempt you because of your lack of self-control.”
“QUINQUE. QUINQUE. QUINQUE.” They chanted.
It was a windswept wasteland.
Hot air blew orange and red sparks and black ash. Everywhere there were fires. Sulfur. Lava. Heat. And more heat upon heat. Charred skeletal remains lay strewn across the scorched earth as far as the eye could see. It was a sea of death. A few twisted clumps of thorned black bushes burned endlessly. There was something horrifically medieval about this – the darkest of all visions (or nightmares). A homage to the Inferno in Dante’s Divine Comedy.
Alp looked at his reflection in the burning mirror. Even as he gazed at himself, the very surface was warping like liquid magma under the tremendous suffocating heat. He hardly recognized himself. His once handsome mop of hair had been singed away to nothing. His face was now blackened and in places void of skin and even muscle tissue. His ears extended upwards in points. Upon the crown of his forehead, he could see he had horns that pressed through the blackish flesh like rose thorns.
From over his shoulders, he could see that he had acquired a pair of wings. Not birdlike (or angelic). They looked black, wet, and leathery. The wings of a bat maybe? His hands were no longer human hands – they had been transformed into long talon-like fingers. His groan was equally grotesque. His testicles are huge low in darkened wrinkled skin sacks. His cock was now nobbled and upturned, almost dagger-like, and seemed to be set in a permanent state of erection. He stroked his new demonic cock flesh and felt a strong surge of wanton perverted delight.
He watched the mirror melt away as the blistering heat turned it to ash. Then it disappeared into the hot wind that blew across Alp’s demon face. Fire and brimstone. It was at this moment that he remembered something important about his given name.
Alp. The Alp?
It had originating from German folklore. The Alp was said to be a demonic elfin-like creature who was said to have climbed onto a sleeping victim’s chest, turned into a fine mist, and entered the body through the nostrils, mouth, anus, or vagina. Once inside, the Alp had the ability to control its victim’s dreams, creating horrible nightmares. Victims complained of being subjected to outrageous sexual perversions … from being molested, raped, and sexually tortured endlessly in the demon’s evil Neverland of vileness and debauchery.
His life as a pious cenobitic, as a man of Christianity … an atavistic man of God … seemed never to have been. Unreal. Misshaped. What was the dream and what was reality?
There was a deep groaning sound that echoed throughout the crimson sky like the rumbling of ancient thunder. Streaks of fire blazed upwards into the stratosphere and then black clouds rushed across the broken horizon. Sparks of red and black. A bonfire of perversity.
Alp instinctively began to rise. It felt exhilarating. He laughed out loud to himself. Wicked laughter. He rose further from the ground. His leathery wings stretched outwards beyond his black-charred shoulders. There was an exciting thrill to this new discovery. He felt himself rising up … he was flying … higher and higher.
The groaning was now more like a messianic chorus of deification, amplifying eons of suffering and pain. A deafening blizzard of screaming voices. No … The voices seemed to osculate between abject agony and orgasmic ecstasy.
From above he looked down and saw a valley of broken rock below. He saw rivers of lava that glowed like the orange branches of giant trees that spread out across the harsh broken landscape. The branches all conversing towards a distant dark triangular structure — like a blackened half pyramid or an Aztec-like ziggurat.
His demon eyes were sharp. He could make out the whitish skin of fresh arrivals. Naked sinners from purgatory. All daisy-chained together in heavy neck chains. They cried out hopelessly. Some of the sinners were old, some were men, some were women, and some were only children. Winged demons, not so unlike Alp, lead them across the scorching landscape toward the impeding structure. Leading or dragging them. He knew they were all lost souls.
More winged demons flew past him.
He saw their bloodied saurian talons held individual sinners that they held fast as they flew higher and higher into the sulfurous clouds. One sinner seemed to escape the hold of his winged demon’s claws but plunged helplessly downwards and was lost in a sudden burst of flames as he fell into one of the rivers of sulfurous lava.
Alp noticed that along the many stone pathways, at intervals that seem to be shorter and shorter as these pathways lead further up towards the huge blackened ziggurat, were heavy wooden crosses. These were not Roman crosses. They were all inverted and upon each one of them was mounted a sinner, who had been nailed in an up-side-down position — their arms stretched horizontally as they hung from nailed feet. They were all continuously screamed in torturous agony. There were simply too many for Alp to count. He noticed that there were smaller vulture-like creatures that pecked at their genitals, at their eyes, at their spilling intestines. He imagined there must be thousands of them, all scattered across the low horizon between the burning rivers of molten magma.
As he flew across this treacherous desert of the damned, he spied upon a small outcrop a single figure. A slender creature that was most decidedly human in form. Alp knew that this was no simple sinner awaiting the fate of Hades Hordes. No, this was someone special. The other flying creatures that passed him overhead paid no attention — distracted by their own malicious activities.
Alp felt drawn. Predestined. He landed before Her.
‘There you are, my love.”
She smiled evilly and tilted her head in a way that pretended to be innocent. But Alp knew better of this evil creature. She had the same impish little face. Young and impetuous. Her long coal hair blew wildly in the hot wind. Her dark nipples stood upright like hard steel bullets. She rested her delicate hands upon her bony hips. Her public mound pressed forward vulgarly and dripped with juices. Her horned clit stood upright like a baphometic cock.
“Sister,” he replied.
It was Lilith. She looked so young, so divine. He found her, once again, naked and very arousing. She was a bizarre blend of demonized humanity. Almost human. Distinctly devil. Alp’s cock stood upright in perfect salute to her.
“Welcome brother, to the other side,” she added.
“He has called you?” she asked.
Alp was not sure what that meant exactly. He was here in Hell. A dream. The dream of the fifth demon? A death dream? A sensual nightmare? His body reconfigured. Evil. Demonic. He flexed his talons.
She laughed out loud. Explained nothing. Instead, she stepped forward and began to fondle his deformed cock, stroking it idly. As they kissed deeply. Brother and sister. Alp groaned into her soft open mouth as she pressed the head of his throbbing cock between her open legs. Their kiss was deeper than anything he had ever felt. Incestuous. Forbidden. Delicious. She began to fuck him and he felt the strength of her supernatural cunt muscles drawing him inside her, undulating in a way that no human could ever fuck. Her wet horn pressed firmly against his stomach wall. She ground her clit-cock harder and harder against him. Soon, she began to buck wildly against him, as he fucked her harder and harder, sinking balls deep into her demonic fuck hole with each stroke.
“You are here to make a choice,” she whispered hotly into his ear, just as he started to ejaculate inside her.
Lilith jerked violently and groaned, grabbing him by the stump of his leathery wings, as she too reached her own demonic climax.
She kissed Alp again. Demon to demon. They mashed their mouths together lustfully. Then, they slowly disentangled from each other’s infernal embrace. Alp knew that it was time. They said nothing further. He stretched out his inhuman wings and began to lift from the outcrop. He looked down and saw Lilith watching him as he rose. She looked back with her enigmatic expression, that promised that this would not be the last time that they would see each other … Maybe not in Hell.
He rose higher and higher. There were sparks of red and gold, as the winds blew stronger and pressed him upwards and onward, towards the darkened shape of the ziggurat … Where He was waiting.
As Alp reached the Aztec-like ziggurat, he saw, upon its flattened peak, a large throne made of human skulls. The Throne of the Antichrist was surrounded by pairs of free-standing phallic structures, each with its own bulbous cock-head and large stone testicles at its base. The sensuality of Hell was in sharp contrast to the suffering, he thought.
The ziggurat teemed with evil lifeforms filled with enmity. Crawling all over the structure, like angry ants, busy for their nest. At the lower levels, thousands of sinners, naked women, children, and males, all toiled like captive slaves — whipped by ghastly winged demons if they slowed their efforts. They all had the face of hopelessness. They seemed to be fueling huge stone furnaces with torn body pairs and mutilated unbaptized babies. Alp could smell the foul stench of pestilence. Burned flesh. Some of the slaves hung from makeshift gallows — possibly to spur the efforts of the others to do as they were told.
Along the next few levels, Alp saw more naked sinners being tortured in all manner of obscene ways. The tortures and torments got increasingly perverse the higher up he looked. Winged demons laughed as they administered the use of red-hot pokers and pincers tearing at the sinners’ flesh. Cutting chunks of flesh from the breasts of the women and severing the cock and testicles from the males. Skeletal bodies hung everywhere while the disemboweled crawled upon the ground helplessly, as they were trampled underfoot by those desperate to escape the torments.
At the very peak of the ziggurat, a burning demon now sat upon this mighty throne of human skulls. Among the abject cruelty and misery of it all, the burning demon looked incongruous, almost majestic. The demon was on fire. Flames burned around him … engulfed him … on him … through him … or was he just made of fire?
He was the Burning One.
Whatever it was, it seemed the torrents of ash-wind had brought Alp before the Burning One. Alp descended slowly. Where he landed, there must have been hundreds of others, lesser demons, all awaiting their audience. They seemed to be sycophants … Awaiting some kind of reward? Was it his prescience or his fey imagination? Was he now some kind of diviner? Alp mused. They were all sexually excited in the presence of the Burning One. The evil seemed to arouse their sexual pleasure. Alp felt his own cock throb painfully. He wanted to ejaculate desperately.
Alp could see that some of these demons looked more like angels. Maybe they were half-angels or fallen angels? Alp was not sure. They had holy white wings of feathers and were pale of flesh. But there was always something about each of them. Albino-red eyes, sharpened teeth, claws … even vaginas where their mouths were supposed to be or erect cocks for nipples. All with misshapen erections, and some were hermaphroditic with other sexual oddities and deformities … these somehow gave away their true malignant nature.
At the other extreme, there were horned demons of various shapes and sizes, some with talons and even spiked tails. A few had only one wing, or no wings at all — just blackened stumps where Alp thought their wings would have been. He noticed that other demons were also missing limbs completely or had some other combination of horrific abnormalities. Their evil-looking faces resembled that of demented rats, bats, dogs, goats, and even tusked pigs.
No two demons were alike, except for the obviousness of their sexual arousal. Most of the evil horde were masturbating … yet others were copulating openly in either oral sex or anal sex. The bizarre menagerie of sexual perversity only increased Alp’s intense need to ejaculate.
The demon orgy continued, supposedly for the entertainment of the Burning One. There was also a large number of sinners already hung naked in heavy chains between phallic pillars of blackened stone. Other sinners had been nailed to crosses, erected like the crucified Son of God. Like the fucking Nazarene. There were dozens of sinners prepared for whatever was next to come. Most of them appeared to be young males. Their eyes saw but refused to believe the sight before them.
The assortment of demons toyed with them without intermission. They began to rape the sinners. They grabbed their heads and thrust their wanton cocks deep into their gasping throats. Their windpipes literally bulged with the inhuman length of their demonic perpetrators. Other demons wasted no time in impaling the sinners upon their cocks, raping them anally. A ritual of sodomites. Satan sex. The sinners cried out in pain and agony. They took no pleasure. Some demons just clawed at the sinners, ripping at their skin, gouging their eyes out, and tearing them literally apart. The frenzied orgy of sex, violence, and death continued to escalate until the Burning One stood up from his throne.
Seeing the Burning One stand … the other demons immediately began to retreat. They all pulled back but continued to pleasure themselves — masturbating furiously, incessantly. Some blew loads of black demon semen over the sinners that looked on, all bloody and torn.
Two demons brought forth a cowling nun. The nun held fast to her rosary and crucifix until one of the winged demons grabbed it from her. The rosary tore and the beads spilled over the broken stones.
“Oh God, save me,” Alp heard her cry.
But no god appeared. Nobody saved her. She was still dressed in her habit until one of the demons tore the back of her robe open and forced her down on her knees. The Burning One pressed his flaming cock against her rear, pushing it between her thighs. The nun began to scream as she caught fire. The Burning One fucked her as her body became engulfed in flames. As the Burning One reached orgasm, his semen of fire sprayed upwards through what remained of her body turning the nun to black ashes.
The other demons groaned and grunted in jubilation.
The Burning One stepped away from his dais. He pointed his finger towards the first of the sinners that hung closest to him. A streak of liquid flames leaped forward from his fingertip, setting the screaming boy alight. There were many grunts of demonic approval. The Burning One turned and then set another alight; and then another; and then another. Their screams were like music to Alp’s ears. Soon all of the sinners were alight, screaming and burning alive like human torches.
The Burning One then sat down again upon the throne of skulls. He turned towards Alp and smiled — if one could call it a smile or maybe more like a burning grimace.
The Burning One said in a deep booming voice that was more in Alp’s head than in his bat-like ears.
“I have summoned you here to Hell from the land of the still living. You are not yet dead.”
Alp knelt down on one knee before the Burning One. For he was Satan. Satan, the great Lord of Demons. The Light-bringer. The Master of Lies. The Antichrist. The Adversary. He burned with the perverted passions of wickedness.
“I have been here from the beginning … The beginning of time … “ he said, ”I seek those who call to me. They call to me, because, like you Alp, they have come to realize the truth … You will return to the domain of the living and you will fulfill your ordained destiny… You are not like the others, Alp … Your place is here … And when you die, you will rise and live again in my service … You must seek out the cripple boy and nun called Eva … And together, you must remind the Holy Fathers, that it is me, the ‘Burning One’ who is to be obeyed.”
The Burning One held forth a black metal dagger. A sharp implement, triangular in cross-section, with three angled blades coming to a singular point with a phallic rear bolster. It looked ancient. Alp took it in his taloned hands. The metal felt heavy and hot to the touch.
Then, the Burning One turned away and called his flaming steed. The majestic winged animal was also on fire – burning brightly as did its master. The steed snorted flames. The Burning One mounted it and continued stroking his upright burning cock.
“Now it is time for you, Alp, to make your choice,” the voice of the Burning One still boomed inside Alp’s mind, “Make your choice!”
The choice. Yes, there was a choice to be made. A door of opportunity remained open. The Burning One pointed a flamed finger towards the sharpened blade of a sinister-looking dagger that Alp still held in his talons. So, it was to be a blood choice. To sign his name in Satan’s registry of souls. He was to draw his own blood. To make his mark — he knew it was an eternal choice. Evil before good. Sin before piousness. Wickedness before holiness.
Alp awake abruptly.
He could feel the fire deep inside his blackened soul. It burned, not just a fire but a burning passion. A burning passion to do evil things. His body felt hot, sweaty, and very excited. Returned from the land of the dead. Alive like never before. His cock was so hard and ready, that as he touched himself he was immediately blessed with a glorious ejaculation.
He groaned maliciously as he was overcome with the power of orgasmic pleasure. His semen spurted upwards into the air, over his chest, neck, and mostly onto his face. He gasped for the longest time. Breathing belly deep. And as his panting finally slowed, his fingers scooped up his semen and eat it. Pan. Lilith. Baphomet. Belphegor. Now the power of the fifth and final demon … The Burning One had called to him; as he had called to the Burning One.
Alp leaped up. He dressed quickly in his simple robe. Inside his robe pocket, he felt something sharp. A dagger. A three-bladed ritual dagger. Its metal felt hot to the touch. Alp knew its origin and its purpose.
He went down to the monastery library. He passed row after row of leather-bound knowledge. The collective intellect of a thousand years or more. His bare feet made only the slightest of echoes against the huge vaulted ceiling of the darkened library. Everything was dead quiet and though it was still pitch dark, Alp knew his way exactly to the Reserved Section — to the very shelf that contained the thing that he sort, the book entitled, Quinque Daemoniorum (The Five Demons).
He carefully lifted the heavy publication from its place on the shelf. The Quinque Daemoniorum felt prickly against his sensitive fingers, as it had done the first time he’d handled it. His penis was rock hard immediately in response. A strange stimulation. His hips bucked subconsciously back and forth, ever so slightly, fuck the air and chaffed himself against the coarseness of the inside of his robe.
He carefully wrapped the heavy volume in a piece of linen and tucked it under his armpit. The tingling receded somewhat. He took a last look around, just to make sure his presence had gone unnoticed. No sound. He was still alone in the darkness of the old library shelves. He sighed to himself, then hastily made his way back to his cell.
Once inside his cell, he locked the door. He checked it twice. Then, he brought the heavy volume carefully under the oil lights and set it down upon his chest of draws. He laid the sacrificial dagger to one side and then proceeded to strip naked. It felt so wicked. Ritualistic. He fingered the lock mechanism and to his amazement, the lock opened by itself.
Open, the book smelt of spent semen and dried blood.
Without thinking about it, he began touching himself and then masturbating his torrid flesh. His heart beat faster and faster. His fist gripped his cock tightly and he thrust up and down on his eager, wet flesh with renewed vigor. Alp, turned the heavy parchment pages of the Quinque Daemoniorum with his left hand so that it could continue his unbroken self-pleasuring that seemed to only intensify his unholy delight. His cock throbbed with a wicked thrill at the sight of the dark archaic calligraphy and illuminated manuscript emblazoned with a demoniacal and pornographically appointed content.
Alp turned to a page marked with a broad red ribbon. Pre-orgasmic delight — It was the only way to describe the euphoric feeling … Just touching the ‘damned’ book made him squirm with unnatural delights. His fingers tightly gripped his cock as he continued to pump up and down upon his wet and wanton flesh. Another orgasm gaining speed.
His wide eyes viewed the written contents between the perverted and illicit imagery (that reminded him of the sensual terrors he’d witnessed, firsthand in the land of Hell … of the demonic sexuality of all the demonic visitations … of Pan, of Lilith, of Baphomet and of Belphegor). And between the highly pornographic images, there were names. Each page contained lists of many names. All signed names. Signatures. And they all seemed to have been signed in human blood.
At the bottom of the list, the latest entry, Alp saw his own name, signed also in blood. The wetness of it, still shined as it was freshly inked in his own blood. He looked at the bloodied edge of the ritual dagger. He noticed that there was a cut across his narrow wrist. Not a deep one. He couldn’t actually remember cutting himself. His signature shone in the dull illumination of his cell.
But, obviously, he’d made the choice.
The words of the Burning One rang in his head …
“You are not like the others, Alp … Your place is here.”
He wasn’t like the others. He was the Alp. A demonic creature with the ability to enter the mind of others … to affect their dreams as the Burning One had affected his. The five demons had awakened him.
“And when you die, to you rise and live again in my service …”
He was alive. The demon made flesh. His oath was made in blood …
“You must seek out the cripple boy and nun called Eva … And together, you must remind the Holy Fathers, that it is me, the ‘Burning One’ who is to be obeyed …”
Tomorrow, he would seek out the cripple boy and then the nun called Eva.
THE END OF CHAPTER FIVE
YET TO CUM …
It was a cold morning and light was dulled by the winter sky. Not the time or place to be so exposed to the elements. But there he was. Shivering. They called him the cripple boy, puny and damaged. Maybe he was not yet twelve. He looked overly thin and wasted. His legs hung lifeless. His face is drawn and gaunt. His skin was sallow. His clothing was ill-fitting and filthy. A small plate with a few meager coins in it lay before him. A personification of human hopelessness. He looked up and his eyes dilated at the sight of Brother Alp.
“You have come for me?” He asked.
She was more of an acolyte than a full nun. Her immature face was radiant and full of life. Angelic in fact. Spotless and unspoiled. An empty canvas. Small for her age, she was yet to bleed. But all of her youthful loveliness was garbed in a drab grey habit of her faithfulness. She stood clutching her wooden rosary and battered copy of the bible. She had been waiting quietly and patiently. They were alone in the holy chapel. Brother Alp stood up from the pew and adjusted his robe.
“You’re here for my soul?” she asked.
1 Timothy chapter 4 verse 1 says, “The Spirit clearly says that in later times some will abandon their faith and follow deceiving spirits and things taught by demons.” Matthew chapter 12 verse 45 says, “Then it goes and takes with it seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they go in and live there. And the final condition of that person is worse than the first. That is how it will be with this wicked generation.” Ephesians chapter 6 verse 12 says, “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world, and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.”
If you have enjoyed this story or would like to offer praise to the author, who is always hungry for encouragement and affirmation, please email email@example.com