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Sometimes there was fire, and that was a relief compared to the alternative. Max didn't know what to expect of hell itself, but he was the most at ease when it closely resembled the fiery lake of lava and torment as it tended to be depicted in fiction. That was at least something he could understand. Sometimes, it was different, and he never knew what it was going to be like until he looked. A chaotic landscape of dark, shifting concepts writhed before his perception, some of them beyond his own understanding. Shapes and shadows danced across the twisted scenery, striking some buried part of his brain as almost familiar, but he couldn't recognize them or name them. They were simply things, as if two terrible realms were colliding with each other at once, forming something incoherent that left him feeling nervous, sick, or outright fearful. His only comfort in that scary place was the cackling demon herself. And she too had been ... different, since their first encounter.

He'd been spending most of his time in her bedroom, or her lair, as it were. He saw glimpses of something worse beneath the surface of the walls. There were hollows there, wails beneath the floorboards, hints of the terrible things that Shirazi did in her spare time. Or maybe that wasn't her spare time, but in fact whenever she was on the clock. But he knew she wasn't truly wicked. There were good qualities to her. He knew that from the very start, when she menaced and threatened him, showing her wild, demonic side, and ever since she first claimed and stole him away to her realm, she'd grown softer and sweeter to him. Sometimes she even seemed normal, speaking to him in a calm and affectionate voice, the sinister red glow in her eyes fading down and replacing with a kinder violet that was strangely ordinary, if a little prettier than a mortal could ever hope to be.

Even at its most mundane there was something terrible about the place. It was mainly the door. It looked like any other, but for the scratches around its frame, dug deep into the wood like scars upon an ancient beast. Shirazi told him to never, ever open it, and she spoke not as if she were hiding anything, but with something like genuine apprehension. Max didn't want to know what was behind it. When he looked towards it, he was overwhelmed by a sense of foreboding, by a tightness in his chest, like dread were a tangible force emanating through the cracks. When he slept, he sometimes dreamt he turned the knob just to peek inside, and though he couldn't see anything emerge from the place beyond he could feel some sort of presence, or even just an energy emanating from the darkness. He was never sure if he was really just dreaming or not, either, but when he snapped awake he always found himself comfortable and snug against the fluffy demon, wrapped up in her arms or just buried in her cleavage, if not completely smothered beneath her as if she were a big, soft blanket.

He wasn't sure if she slept. She was always awake when he was, stroking, fondling, cuddling him to sleep, and she was still like that when he awoke. For all he knew, she stayed like that all night long, enjoying the touch of his fur, occasionally draining some energy from him but being gentle enough that she didn't distress or wake him. He slept surprisingly well for being dragged down to hell by a demon, aside from the dreams, and his days were packed with attention, affection, and intimate touches the likes of which he revelled in. When he awoke that particular morning, or whatever time of day it actually was, she was all over him already, her tongue dragging along his cheek, her fingers kneading deeply into his chest and playing up and down his sides. Her breath was as sweet and warm as the rest of her, her presence bringing a sexy, yet strangely soothing feeling over him that ensured he was calm even when he felt those occasional twitches passing through her body as she calmly played with him.

"I'll be nice to you. I like being nice to you. It feels good. But someday ... holding it down is going to make it all come out at once."

That was what she told him. More than once, in fact. It was something important to her, always said with an earnest look in her eyes. That was the same look she gave when she told him about the door. There was always a feeling of slight worry in him whenever he was around her. Right that moment, between her slurps, she seemed to shiver, even shudder, like something was taking control of her. Sometimes she shrieked in alarming ways, pulling away from him, depriving him of that cradling touch he loved so much, left to convulse on the floor or slip briefly into snickering that never fully built to her haunting cackle. The time passed, and she was herself again, smooching and tending to him like nothing unusual had happened. He'd learned not to bother asking questions. She had no answers for him, or for herself, and she left him to wonder as she departed suddenly, leaving him with no idea of when she'd be back.

There wasn't much more to do than wander around hell. Even the other demons were wary of her. He thought at first they were simply being nice to him, welcoming him or at worst ignoring him as he paced the chaotic halls of hell whenever his mistress was away spreading her corruption, as she put it. He saw hulking figures of flesh and metal, drooling hellbeasts, and soft, seductive succubi, and they often gave him a wide berth to explore all on his own. Perhaps she was more powerful than she seemed, and they feared her. Or maybe it was more, they didn't trust her, and her unstable mind, and what she might do to someone who hurt or bothered her pet. Max was unharmed wherever he went, if often painfully lonely. He longed for her touch even during her brief disappearances, pining for her warmth, her scent, her taste. But it was always worth waiting for when she returned.

Just because she was being nice to him didn't mean she was any less horny, nor that she desired the energy inside him any less. He was her little treat, her unending source of sustenance, feeding her, pleasuring her, helping her to thrive and grow as a demon. Now and then it occurred to him that she was using him as a conduit to drain the life energy from countless others. It had to come from somewhere. Maybe someone was suffering because of the way she was using him - but as soon as those thoughts formed in his mind, they vanished as quickly as they came. He didn't feel like they were being stolen from him so much as they simply didn't matter anymore. The urge to dismiss them felt as if it came from within, rather than from any sort of external force controlling him.

After a lengthy stroll through the fiery, shifting halls and tunnels of the underworld, he returned to tend to her empty lair. It was purely a symbolic task. Her choice of dwelling was a turbulent, ever-shifting place, and cleaning it was as ineffective as trying to exorcise it. But he quite liked the outfits she'd chosen out for him. It wasn't clear, but it seemed like she'd designed them herself. He was pacing up and down her living room with what looked like some combination of morning star and feather duster, wearing a black and white maid's outfit covered in metal studs. It clinked as he paced the catacombs of Shirazi's home. The halls shifted with his every step, leaving him lost in a labyrinth of warm stone, doors appearing where they hadn't been before or vanishing to leave him with nothing but smooth wall, but he didn't panic. Some part of him, some new sense inside his body he'd acquired from his time with her told him she was near. He welled up with excitement just to know she was in his vicinity, that icy loneliness melting away in an instant.

He'd learn to identify her cackles as a second language. This one meant she was in a mood. Whether it was excited, distressed, or just horny, he wasn't quite sure yet. He needed a bit more practice to really understand the nuance of her wild demon giggling, but he knew well enough to follow the sound through the maze just in time to meet her at the front door. She swished in, vibrating with laughter, naked to her stripes, her eyes gleaming with something so commanding he was at her feet in an instant, kneeling before his mistress with an eager wiggle of his tail. She loomed above him for a while, simply basking in her power over him, admiring his obedience, knowing he was clinging to her every action, waiting for a single word of command. It felt good to behave so well for her. She was an unending well of desires and pleasure, never fully satisfied yet infinitely happy to take and take from him. No matter how much he gave, she always wanted more. She was never overwhelmed, or broken, or hurt by any of his powers. It was like they were always meant to find each other.

"Looks like you've been a good boy," she told him. It was teasing in tone, but his heart swelled with a happy feeling anyway, just to get praised, in any way. "I think you deserve a reward."

She looked like a soft woman of modest strength, but she had ways of reminding him that no matter how mundane her appearance might have been, she was still a demon. The current reminder came in the form of her hefting him up with almost zero effort, grabbing him beneath the arms as if he were simply an empty paper bag, nearly weightless. Though he definitely weighed something when he came crashing down on her bed, clear the other side of the room. He hardly even remembered her tossing him. He was simply there, sprawled out in his outfit, feeling the studs digging into him slightly on landing, but it didn't hurt. For all the rough treatment she gave him, he was never in pain, never distressed. It was all bliss - if sometimes a little more bliss than he could handle at a given moment, reflected back on him until he made the squeaky noises she seemed to love.

It took him a few moments to pick himself up, and in that time, she was upon him. It was like she teleported. He found himself staring deep into her eyes as she grinned above him, watched her tongue playing over her lips, a drop of drool plunging down to spatter on his face. He let it rest on him, blazing hot but not uncomfortable. Her breath was as sweet as ever as she puffed it over his face, bringing a warmth that spread all the way down his spine and to his every nerve, giving him that tingly, contented feeling of being in his mistress' presence. He didn't dare defy her with anything uppity or assertive, but watching those glossy black lips glistening with her saliva, he could imagine how good it would feel to kiss her, like he had so many times before. There was no need for him to suggest it as a reward for his good behaviour. She knew what he enjoyed most without even having to ask.

The taste of her lips upon his own was divine. Though he'd learned not to use that word around her. If she wasn't a demoness, she would have been a goddess to him. Her kisses were warm and sweet, and her tongue was a smooth, delicious treat upon his own. He sucked on it when she shoved it past his lips, delving deep into his mouth, making him swallow some of it. That used to startle him. It felt like a serpent wriggling around in his throat, that thick tongue with a life all its own as it delved in and out, as if she were fucking him with it. Plenty of sloppy demon spit splattered and overflowed from his lips as he fought to drink it all down. She was sucking on him all the while, wrapping her jaws around much of his muzzle, going from kissing to partly swallowing him, her teeth framing his vision as she overtook his entire face. And she was already gulping, her throat bulging with the fresh energy, with that essence she drained from him, using him as a conduit for her own pleasure and fulfillment, exploiting his connection to the worlds beyond with her every greedy swallow.

He was never empty, never fully drained, no matter how much she drank from him. She pulled back in time, letting her tongue whip about her lips, splashing juices everywhere. Her cock was hard by then. He caught her musk to go along with her sweet scent to form a perfect perfume of sinister lust, and watched her shaft throbbing up to thump her belly as it began to spurt pre. The warmth upon his fur was enough to make him swelter a little, even in those small misty drops landing upon his fur. He watched her bobbing back and forth, her eyes giving the occasional flash of red as she considered what to do with him, how to properly treat him and reward him. Just being deprived of her touch for that long was starting to make him antsy, sending him to squirming and almost reaching out for her. He couldn't bring himself to actually do it. His arms simply wouldn't move. That would have been expressing desire of his own, without prompting, and that wasn't how his body, and his condition worked. Though it was starting to feel like maybe someday that could change.

That wicked light faded from her eyes to be replaced with gently violet as before, and she came close to breathe on him once she was done with her considerations. Her tongue felt hot upon his cheek, and he was left to lean back as she licked her way down his body, the outfit melting from him as if it had suddenly turned to inky liquid, metal studs clanking together as they streamed off of him on a river of black. It stained the bed around them, leaving Max naked before his mistress, her tongue sliding down his throat and moving to his bare chest. He was already moaning, already whimpering some to feel her licking him. There was such care to her steady, sloppy slurps. For how wild they were, flinging saliva in all directions, smacking against his skin harder and faster, she had a certain precision. Every single hair of his fur got slathered in demon drool, leaving him sodden and soaking. Her slobber never seemed to run out. She poured it upon him, every drop silent praise of his flavour, and she kept on working until she was dipping down over his belly and waist, slipping between his legs.

His cock was almost always hard when she was giving him attention. That was what she wanted, and so it was, even when she wasn't doing anything more than hugging or smooching him. It looked modest, even small at first glance, but as a conduit for the energy inside him it was so much more to take than it seemed. She was licking along the very base of it, dancing along his crotch with the tip of her deeply-kneading tongue, making him dook and chirp, all the noises spilling out of him at once. But even better was the look in her eyes when she met his, gazing up from between his legs with a gleam of demonic affection. She took his wrist and placed his hand on her stripey cheek, letting him stroke and squeeze there. It was a wordless reminder that she cared for him, genuinely. Even if sometimes she was a little much for him to handle.

"You're going to enjoy this," she told him, and it was as much an affectionate thing to say as it was a command. His duty was clear. All he needed to do was enjoy while his mistress indulged him to the fullest.

He sat back, his hands poised at his side, and nodded to her. She lingered with her tongue for a time, swirling it around the base of his cock, getting him nice and wet. He was throbbing for her, making sure he didn't soften for a second so she knew how much he adored her and her every touch. A flick of her tongue and she was at his tip, swiping back and forth with steady slurps, already swallowing the invisible energy that gave his dick a few extra inches of girth and length for her to suck on. It made her look like she was kneading nothing between her lips, her throat starting to bulge as she went down on his energy before she got to his shaft. It already felt incredible, her sweltering hot maw wrapping around him, sucking, kneading, licking, massaging him with eager attention as generous as it was gluttonous. He was ready for a slow, soothing blowjob, happy to please his mistress with his offering, but he should have known better than to assume she might take it slow with him. He hardly saw the lunge coming.

Shirazi tipped her head backwards, then threw herself forth all at once, forcefully shoving every single inch of his energy-extended dick straight down his gullet, bulging it with the outline of a cock much bigger than his visible shaft. He cried out as if terrified, clutching at his head, but the sound was soon muffled as the sensations reflected back on him, making it feel like she was fucking his throat while she sucked him off. She didn't choke, or stop for air. Once she was latched onto his shaft, she didn't let go, bouncing, shoving, smacking her lips into his crotch, guzzling down energy as if it were precum, letting her belly start to bulge with the fulfilling meal of the essence channelling through his member. She absorbed it about as quickly as she drank it, feasting upon him, planting her palms on his thighs and thudding into the ground as she all but headbutted him with the harsh process of facefucking down on his shaft, guzzling and loudly gulping, giving some deep, muffled 'mmmmms' of pleasure to go right along with her hungry feeding.

"Ahh, mistress ..."

She spoke as if she didn't have her mouth full. He could feel her forming the words around his dick.

"Hold on. Let it build, pet. Let your balls get plump with all that cum you're churning up for me."

He did his best to do exactly as she said, though he was pretty sure balls didn't work that way. Maybe a demon's did. Even so, he could feel the tension, the tight pressure and force building up within them, making him whine a bit as he struggled to get a hold of himself. Cumming in her mouth before she wanted him to probably wouldn't have ended well. She had never punished him for anything before, but that was only because he hadn't failed her yet. He adored her, but he didn't want to see her angry. So he was left to grip the bed, digging his fingers into the sheets, watching as their surroundings shifted all around them to something more demonic. The pretty bedroom was more fiery, reddened with a sultry glow, looking more like a cave than a room. And for just a moment, Max was startled when he thought he heard the door creaking to his left, his eyes snapping to it only to find it hadn't moved. That didn't make his heart pound any less, especially as the demon blew him nearly senseless, turning his expression more and more to something she would wear. A drooling, grinning, blissful weasel lay sprawled out and panting, mouth hanging wide open, a look of delight in his eyes as he was drained and spoiled by his mistress.

When he felt the pressure building all throughout his whole body, he looked to her for guidance. For all his willpower, for all his want to be good, and to serve every single need of the demoness perfectly, she was having an effect on him unlike any other. She could make him cum before he was even ready, breaking him from the chains of only serving others. She made his body work in ordinary ways. To him, it was evidence of deep corruption. He might have looked as soft and innocent as ever, but there was something different. He could feel it. It was welling up inside him, making his hips jump against her palms, his tail wiggle, his legs and balls tense right as he started to move back and forth in her mouth. She hadn't told him to do that. He was being just slightly greedy with that subtle gesture. But he wanted to. Of course, she probably wanted him to want that too. Maybe it was all part of her plan that he might do something seemingly not according to her plans. That thought renewed his vigour just enough that he even dared to reach down and grab her head with both hands, his eyes shutting tight as he wailed his way to a climax that felt as if it might drain everything from his body at once, fluids and soul and essence alike.

The climax that erupted from him felt like it sent him to another realm for a few brief moments. For all he knew, maybe it did. It gushed straight down her gullet, shooting a fat load of his cum into her belly, emptying those pent up nuts and letting off all their need at once. He blasted her gullet, pumped her belly full, and even overflowed her muzzle to leave cascades of cream pouring down her chin and tits. He opened his eyes to the tight of a splattered demon, soaking in his seed while he panted and whimpered, and even when he thought he'd given her everything, the play of her tongue along her cum-streaked lips, and the squishing squeeze of her breasts soaked in weasel seed made him spray a few more ropes all over her. He felt his heart leap at the feeling, his eyes wide as he watched his own jizz gushing across the demon's grinning face, and hosing down her gorgeous bust, leaving her splattered and even marked by her exhausted, happy pet. It was a satisfaction like no other, and yet, he couldn't help but feel a small pang of fear to look at her, and what he'd done to her. She was wearing a mask of painted cream, thick strands running down into her cleavage, dripping from her tits. And her eyes had returned to red.

"Good boy," she snarled, snickers overtaking her as she dug her fingers deep into her own breastflesh with a messy squelch. The praise was good to hear, but the tone she used made it sound almost like a threat.

"Ahh ... I'm sorry, mistress. I thought I was doing exactly what you said, and ..."

She raised a finger to silence him.

"You did," she said, her voice disturbingly calm for the depraved expression across her face, her interlocked fangs gleaming. "I loved making you cum for me, pet. But there's a problem."

Max flinched when she said that, his eyes locked on her.

"Wh-what's wrong, mistress?"

She crawled across him, his cum pouring from her to slather on his pristine fur, and leaned right down near his ear, licking it even as she wetly whispered.

"The door is open."

The panic hit all at once. Max was paralyzed. He didn't know what such a phrase meant, but his body, his instincts told him that it was very, very bad. Maybe it was the worst thing that could happen. Maybe nothing would ever be the same. All he knew was that she looked as wicked as ever, more than even when he'd first met her, as she loomed above, rubbing herself, moaning, cackling, stroking her dick as it poured precum down her striped thighs, pumping and throbbing hard enough to make her balls jiggle with every clench. Laughter became her, possessing her, leaving her shaking and rattling the bed as she clacked her teeth together, biting at the air. He couldn't move a muscle. All he did was lie there, staring, wondering what she was going to do to him. He didn't think she was going to punish him exactly, but he could see her losing control of the beast she was, and it didn't matter if she wished harm upon him or not anymore. It was liable to simply_happen_.

He didn't want to look away from her, but he could tell in the corner of his eye that what she said was true. The door had opened all by itself, and not just a crack. Max still couldn't see anything, but he could feel it all pouring out. An energy flowed over him, and it was nothing like that which he had flowing through him. It was darker. Heavier. He could feel it washing over him, and not with the gentle warmth of a blanket. It was more like a crashing wave, a smothering weight holding him down and ensuring he didn't move in the slightest as surely as if he was shackled. He wasn't breathing. She was vibrating. He could see the muscles tensing up in her body, her eyes shooting out what looked like sparks of demon power, bright and blinding, burning an image into his eyes and making them water while he stared unblinking at his unhinged mistress. Her whims were open and bare before him, and he couldn't fathom what she might do to him.

First she pounced. He gasped out as he felt her weight thud into him. She was soft, but she wasn't being careful. Gone was that tender, gentle touch of recent days. She grabbed him and harshly squeezed him, taking him by the arms and dragging him along the bed, swinging him like a flail as his legs flapped about uselessly. She was on her feet again, twirling him above her head, treating him like a toy while he cried out and did his best to hold on tight. Soon he was facedown, bodyslammed to the bed hard enough he felt it sag beneath him along with a heavy crunch of bone. Those weren't his own, thankfully, but instead the bedframe itself, built of assorted skeletons, crackling from the force with which she mounted him. He felt her cock slathering slickly along his rear, and her grip on the middle of his tail, harshly yanking it upwards, pulling it taut at the root.

His body could take a lot more punishment than others, but he was still scared. He felt her teeth digging into his skin, even his flesh, biting deeply into him only for the wounds to heal as quickly as they came. Not that he didn't feel them. Her teeth were even sharper than they looked, cleaving through his hide as if he were nothing more than a chew toy for her. She gave some nasty chomps all up his back, making him arch and squirm away, no longer enjoying the roughness. He was at least thankful that her cock was absolutely soaking wet with all the juices she was pumping out at a constant rate. It squished and squelched its way beneath his tail, grinding up between his cheeks, smearing along his hole as he did his best to relax. He didn't want to break, even if it would only be temporarily. That energy inside him always served to reshape and repair him whenever any damage came to his body, but it was a lot more pleasant to avoid the damage in the first place.

She bit, she gnawed, she latched onto to his throat with her deadly jaws, and all he could do was whimper while she shoved her cock against his ass and started pounding forth with feral lust. Part of him still loved the treatment. It was dangerous to let her get her so unhinged like that. Anything was possible. The moment it occurred to her, she was going to do it. But for the moment she wasn't hurting him in ways he couldn't handle. It seemed like she just wanted to fuck rathrer than to maim him, and for all his squirming, he did his best to be the best bottom he could be for her. The pleasure reflected back on him twice over, revealing just how much she needed it, just how much she was loving the sensation of sinking deeply into his backside, bottoming out in moments to thud down against his butt and let her balls slap against his own. The steady SMACK of her manic thrusts building to a brutal pace without any sort of buildup. Shirazi didn't need to build momentum. She just went.

Soon he was locked in her embrace, getting himself pounded halfway to oblivion, his eyes rolling back in his head as the energy flowed from his throbbing cock. Her forceful strokes kept his pre flowing, until it felt like he was already cumming for the spurting mess of thin cream soaking over his chest and belly. His past orgasm dripped down on his back, squelching between their bodies, soaking into his fur as she rutted him without pausing for breath. Full speed, full power, thud thud thud, the bed creaking and breaking beneath them, splinting into pieces that scattered all over the floor. Max felt nearly as broken as the demon had her way with him, treating him more like a piece of meat as she drooled all over the back of his head, her tongue dragging up and down between his ears, sucking in his taste in eager swallows.

Her voice was as piercing as a banshee's wail, rattling his skull with every shrieking word.

"Good. You've been GOOD. You give me so much. I can feel it WRIGGLING down inside me. I'm stronger than EVER and it's allllll thanks to you."

She dropped her voice and settled instead into a sultry moan, sticking her tongue inside his ear as she spoke. Her pounding pace never slowed even as she whispered words like a gentle singsong lullaby to him.

"I'm going to givvvve you something, Maxy. I want to know how it feels to take you all inside. Tasty, luscious little treat. Little squirmy weasel for your mistress to eat."

He didn't know what to think about such a statement. She could have meant it a thousand ways, only some of which were literal. There wasn't much he could do about it but let his body get thrashed back and forth, smashed down to the bed while she fucked his brains out, knocking his thoughts from his head and leaving him to drool for her. A harsh grip on the base of his cock kept him spurting, her fingers pressing deep into his modest prick, kneading, stroking, jerking him off at the same reckless speed she fucked him. He could already feel his belly bulging with the steady stream of pre pumping into him, her fat demon dick flexing and bulging, shooting strands of steaming hot juices beneath his tail. His whole body was seizing up tight, his face fading to a desperate furrow, his lips trembling as the whimpers spilled from him. He curled his toes and bit his lip, curling up beneath her as much as he could while he tightened around every inch of her pumping dick, feeling it plunging and grinding against his little pleasure button. For all her savage lust, she still knew how to pleasure him, how to sending him tingling to a climax that felt as if it was ripping free from the very depths of his soul.

Max didn't recognize the sound that came out of him when he his his peak, cumming for his mistress, giving her everything. He screamed, sort of. It was more of a wail, his voice briefly sounding more like a chorus of tormented souls than a weasel. His seed gushed forth right past his face, instantly flooding the whole bed, a pool of jizz spreading out beneath him. It was an obscene mess, an impossible cumshot, all milked out by his mistress' dick grinding his prostate, pushing that pleasure button over and over, gripping his cock and making sure not to stop squeezing until she was sure he was done. He felt the warmth of her own seed inside him, pumping, filling, shooting straight up into his belly from the sheer force of her orgasm. It flowed steadily, unceasingly, not so much a spurt as a constant outpouring of every single drop she had welled up inside of her. Before she finished, she pulled from him and hosed him down, getting every inch of his fur that was already soaked, adding a second coating of cream to the mess already clinging to him.

She left him a panting ruin, bathing in his own saliva as much as his cum, his eyes open but unseeing as he struggled to recover. The energy was at work, repairing him, sealing over the bitemarks she'd left in his skin, healing his sore rump after she spanked it raw with her hips. All through it, she was oddly quiet. He heard her licking her lips, felt the bed shifting as she rocked her weight back and forth. Eventually, he felt her finger, clawing down his back in such a way that he couldn't help but shudder violently, twitching down to his toes as she manipulated his nerves. She could do anything to him. Including break him to pieces, if she desired. She'd never done anything sadistic with him yet. He trusted her not to hurt him on purpose, unless it was part of something sexy. But the way she was twitching, oddly vibrating, silently leaping in place with her inner laughter, he had to think that anything was possible.

"Max ..." she whispered, so softly he could barely hear her.

It was a struggle to answer her, but he swallowed some air and puffed his chest to try to project his shaky voice. "Yes Mistress?"

"Kiss me."

He was all at once relieved to hear it. His body was knitting with every moment, making moving easier, if still slightly laboured, and he managed to roll himself over so that he might properly fulfill her command. She knelt there, waiting for him, holding her hands out to him. When he approached, she wrapped him in a tight embrace, putting enough pressure on his gut that some cum started overflowing from his backside. He felt into her deep smooch, and was happy to find it was pure. No biting, no tricks, just a warm, soothing kiss with his beloved mistress, letting him suck on her tongue and feel his body recovering, resetting back to normal, as if he'd never been rutted senseless by a demon. Other servants, other pets would have been broken by then. Maybe they wouldn't even have survived. But he was different. He was better than them, objectively, able to give her anything she wanted, without ever so much as a complaint. Even if it was scary sometimes.

What he didn't expect was to be so suddenly staring down her gullet, his vision framed by her teeth once more. It was different than before. She wasn't simply showing off. She was taking him inside, moving from embracing to roughly shoving him between her lips. There was no way he would fit, he thought, right as soon as she proved him completely incorrect. He felt his whole head bulging in her maw, flooded by the spit pouring down on him, and then he was in her gullet, gripped from every side by wickedly powerful demonic peristalsis. The fleshy walls squished upon his features, smothering and silencing him, fiercely directing him downwards into the utter darkness that was her throat. No light entered that place. The insides of her body were entirely black, leaving him immersed in his other senses, listening to her heart, to her puffing breath, the air growing hotter and more humid the deeper she took him, gobbling past his shoulders without so much as a word, or a cackle. She was singularly focused on her goal of devouring her pet.

Max had survived in hostile environments before. His particular curse wouldn't let him die. But it had never been pleasant, and those were simply situations where he was dealing with natural hazards, or harsh weather. There was no more hostile an environment as a demon's stomach, and that was where he was headed, one squishy gulp at a time. She jerked her head, flailing and flopping him around, holding him aloft with the strength of her jaws locked around his chest. Her teeth dug into him, her tongue lashed all around his body, and she wouldn't stop pulling him with the strength of her swallowing alone, squeezing those muscles tightly around his features, forcing him towards the gurgling pit that waited for him below. Such noises it made. It wasn't just the usual gurgles of a digestive chamber. There was something deeper, something fierce about it, with a steady rumble like a rising roar, as if the thing itself were alive, were its own entity. The heat hit him harder with her every squeeze, until he was just a pair of legs sticking straight up from a hyena demon's jaws. For all the forces already working against him, gravity was one of the strongest.

ULLLP came the sound, resonating all around him with a commanding sense of finality. She wasn't inching him down any more. She needed all of him, right that very moment, and she finished the process of devouring him with a mighty lurch, her body convulsing, rocking about as she sent him to his digestive doom. Or at least, to a fate as of yet unknown. He had no idea how a demon's insides might interact with a body like his, but he was about to find out. Max sputtered as he smacked down to the bottom of the demon's belly, splatting into simmering juices, feeling them sticking to his fur. They were surprisingly inoffensive. There was nothing particularly caustic about them yet, and the whole slimy prison wrapped around his body in a surprisingly accommodating way. His feet vanished between her lips as they sealed up tight on the tips of her tongues, her tongue slithering in between them before she tipped him back and downed what remained of him. He was in a moment enveloped by his mistress, tucked away in her swollen body, stretching her body to a gravid roundness, bloating and filling until a satisfied shape. All he could hear was the echo of her sultry 'ahhhh!' that came echoing down to his chamber, the internal noise soon overwhelmed by the gworgling process of her digestives starting to slather over his fur.

He didn't fight her. She'd decided he was going to spend some time in her belly, and there was nothing he could do about it. As cramped and overheated as it was, he had to do his best to be a good pet, to please her. Though the churning, squishing, squeezing grip of impending digestion wasn't making that easy, crushing him into uncomfortable shapes, mashing him down into a tight ball that tested his flexibility. She couldn't digest him - but did she know that? She was sitting back on her demonic bed with a fat gut full of live prey, jerking her cock to the feeling of his wriggling. She couldn't even feed off of him when he was like that. All his energy went to keeping his body intact, to repelling the efforts of those digestive fluids as the oozed all around him from every angle, coating him from feet to face in a caustic solution of sizzling acid. It would have burned, but he just felt a bit of numbness, his body healing as quickly as it melted, his fur falling out only to regrow, his skin growing red only to heal back up like it was before. Maybe she was getting some sustenance from him, but she wasn't going to overcome his inner energy, no matter how long she kept him stewing down in that slimy pit, kneading, even harshly massaging him as if to crush him to pieces. Yet he endured, never breaking, never coming apart, letting the fleshy walls become his new home as he stretched out his mistress' belly, making her look pregnant with her pet turned prey.

Maybe she was really trying to melt him down. He had to wonder if he could really endure forever. Sure, he wasn't natural, but neither was she. A demon could do almost anything, or at least she could in his experience. He felt her patting him, even petting him through the layers separating him from the outside world, rumbling and given a few moans. He even felt the spatter of cum hitting her gut when she stroked herself to a climax, spraying herself down with thick ropes, all worked up and milked out by the pleasure of eating him. That brought him comfort in that dark place. He was pleasing her. Just by being inside of her, he is bringing her enjoyment,even getting her off, and surely she'd never eaten anyone like him before. All the others she'd eaten couldn't have satisfied her like he was. They probably just fell apart in minutes under such an onslaught. But no matter how long he stayed in there, he never broke, never melted, leaving her with that warm sensation of working off a big meal that never faded. It was enough to compel her into a nap, but not before soothing his worries with one final murmur of praise. The madness was gone from her voice one more. He couldn't see them, but somehow he could tell that her eyes weren't glowing red anymore.

"Good boy. Simmer and rest. It feels so good. Yesssss." She wetly hissed through her teeth.. "I won't keep you there forever. Promise. But I needed this. I needed you inside me. My toy. My plaything. My prey. Mine."

The darkness was even deeper then. It had always been black, but he felt as if he had fallen into a void, knowing only the sensations as his mistress sprawled out on her back, palms planted on the rounded shape of her prey, slowly churning him as she drifted off to demon slumber. It was the first time he'd ever actually known her to sleep. Her body slowed, her heart rate lowering, her breathing going rhythmic. The trembling chaos that ran through her body was receding, and somewhere in the distance, over the steady digestive cacophony that overwhelmed his ears, he heard the thud of a door shutting. It was closed again. She'd let it all out, at least briefly, and ended up devouring her precious preything whole. But surely she would realize on waking that she still had many uses for him. He'd still be intact, still be whole, and she could let him out to serve her in ways that didn't involve stewing in her belly all night long. Or day. Or whatever time it was, down in the darkest of pits, in the deepest of hell. He didn't know how long until he awoke, but all he could do was serve her with his body, with his existence, and trust that he would remain himself all throughout a session of demonic digestion.

After a while, it was starting to feel good. He wasn't sure if it was actual pleasure, or simply knowing that with every churn, every sloppy squelch around his body, he was pleasing his mistress further. Her pleasure was his own, and she was satisfied and relaxed, murmuring something in her sleep about flesh and fire. After a while he was faintly murmuring in there, despite being almost totally immersed in digestive acids, hearing them sizzling and burning away at his body. Eventually he was moaning. He was doing something nice for his mistress, getting her nice and plump like he was a holiday meal, feeding her curves and padding her out, if it even worked like that. Maybe she chose to work that way. Either way, she was going to be thicker and softer by the time she let him free. Every part of her that was already juicy got even juicier. There was going to be so much to squeeze, to admire and worship.

Maybe she was harsh with him sometimes. Rough, aggressive, or seemingly cruel. But others wouldn't understand like he did. She knew what was best for him. And that was doing whatever it was she wanted with his unbreakable body, finally fulfilling his need to be needed in ways he could never find anyone else. He was certain she'd never leave him. Every depraved thing they did together just brought them closer, and in his unchanging state, he never even grew corrupted from her influence. He was as he begun, innocent, caring, and subservient, willing to do anything for the pleasure and approval of others, to endure anything they desired. Even if it meant, so he'd discovered, dunking him down in a fleshy pit of acid, and steadily digesting him in a bulging, wobbling gut over the course of many hours, without ever making progress. He knew she'd make it up to him for the discomfort. She always did. And with the door closed once more, he could look forward to her sweetness, to her kindness, and her warmth. That was all he had to think about to turn that inhospitable stomach into a warm, tender embrace, wrapped all around his curled-up form, like a full-body hug. He loved his mistress. He loved that she was using him, exactly how she wanted. And he'd endure stuffing her gut for as long as she wanted, if it meant that she was happy, for that happiness was his own.