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Morningstar Enterprises proudly presents...

A Bennettworks production...

DENZIEN

This story is an original work of fiction by Damion St. James. All characters herein are subject to copyright and are not open license without written permission. References to biblical people and places are done so for storyline purposes and any descriptions or representations of religious figures/places are done so at the author's interpretation. This story series contains violence, torture, and extreme circumstances pertinent to that of a hell environment; such as reasons for being in hell are strictly the opinion of the author and do not represent the opinion of Yiffstar.com. If this subject matter offends you please DO NOT continue reading this story.

This story also will (and is not necessarely in this installment) contain Homosexual sex, unprotected sex [who needs condoms in hell??], bestiality, cub, watersports, Oral sex, Anal sex, and of course Kissing. If any of this subject matter offends you, DO NOT continue reading this story. If you are not of legal age for your area, I am legally obligated to ask you do not read this (my opinion is irrelevant)

Otherwise Enjoy!

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{Prologue}

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Hello everyone, this isn't quite a prologue, more a letter to you my readers and fans. I'm sorry I haven't been posting much as of late, but as some of you know a virus crippled the main computer of Bennettworks, and I lost all my information. Tales From Apartment 232 is going to be held off indefinitely until such time that I am able to feel like writing again.

This story that I wrote is the opening chapter, a taste of things to come in this series. It's much darker than anything I've written before, and I'm kind of getting into it. The places and sights and sounds of the Hell you're going to read about is based upon my interpritation of hell. Hell has been described to me as a great many things, however this is the vision of hell that works best for me. Having gathered descriptions that make sense to me from numerous sources such as D & D, the bible, Dante's inferno, the Satanic bible, and even Neil Gaihman's the Sandman Cronicals have helped me put together this collection of stories involving Denzien the hellcat. Denzien is based off the Tattoo on my right inner thigh, also affectionately called my Demon Kitty. Much like Denzien in the story, the tattoo on my leg is just there, and only I know why.

I want to go on record for those Christian furs and other individuals that are going to be shocked about how dark this universe is. This is how I feel about hell, and these are my opinions. They can change over time, but for now these are my opinions. I'm prepared to acknowledge that these will, repeat will offend some people but this story is strictly for the erotic and literary entertainment of my readers and are not supposed to be a dictation of my religious beliefs regardless if the subject matter is based upon them. As such when you comment I ask that you DO NOT engage me in a debate about religion or criticize my views. All I ask is that you enjoy this story.

A final note, because this first installment of this series is still extreme, I've placed it in the Adult - Other Category for now because it, for the moment, lacks true homosexual content.

I love you all, please enjoy!

Damion St. James,

David C. Bennett

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It's hot...I know it's hot...I can feel it all around me. My hair feels dry, my nose burns with the sensation of hot air, its most unpleasant. My throat and tongue are parched, and are rough as sandpaper. My fur feels unnaturally crisp, like I've held my arm inside of an oven for a long period of time.

I don't want to open my eyes...

I realize as I get my bearings, I am naked when I didn't recall being naked before. I wasn't where I was before...I knew it. I didn't know where before was, but I knew I wasn't wherever that was. I could hear strange sounds all around me. The sounds were not unlike popping and bubbling sounds, like something makes when it's boiling. I could feel the ground rumbling slightly under my naked body, my back was being shaken as if I was on some sort of vibrating bed.

I still don't want to open my eyes.

It was then I felt a hot rush of air move between my legs, and I was convinced to feel along my body. I wasn't what I was before...I remembered being significantly less athletically built than I was feeling myself...and I definitely remembered having a penis and testicles before! What was happening?!

I had no choice...I opened my eyes.

My eyes burned and stung and for a moment I thought I was in a fire, when I realized that wasn't totally the truth. Above me, like some distant sky, was a rolling endless sky of fire and smoke. Every time a cloud broke the sky would roll with thunder and burst with a fireball of enormous flames. I looked, and I was in some sort of boat. The moving sensation I felt beneath me was a live ocean of lava that seemed to go for eternity, save for the visage of enormous and utterly titanic volcanoes that were almost impossible to fathom. I sat forward in my boat that I was in, realizing it was more of an elongated canoe more than anything. The canoe was elaborate in it's morbid design: The whole structure appeared to be made out of black marble, and was augmented with bones and flesh and sinew. The front of my canoe was a spinal column that was capped with some sort of canine skull that I could have sworn was watching me. The "seats" of the canoe appeared to be down-turned rib cages still speckled with flesh and meat. Behind me, I saw a tall and lanky hooded figure that was using a long pole to steer this canoe. I didn't see any hand, just skeletal bones clutching hard to the rudder with the proverbial death grip. The hood covered his face, and all I could see was black shadows inside, and I honestly didn't know weather or not I wanted to know what was behind that hood.

Looking down at myself I saw that my body had been completely transmogrified into something that wasn't there before. My penis was gone and there was nothing there but a flat ridge of muscle like I had become some kind of comic drawing. My hands had become much more talon like, and my claws were elongated and black. My tail was much longer, like something out of some kind of anime, and my feet had changed to match my hands - becoming something almost like gargoyle claws.

I felt my head and felt my head was still feline, but my hair had grown significantly. My bangs hung in my face and the rest of my hair, which now went to the middle of my back, had been braided. I also noticed my fur had changed colors. My arms, and legs and back and tail were all purple with the slightest yellow tint, and my chest and crotch and hair were magenta pink. I was far from what I used to be, but what I was...I don't remember.

I looked up to the hooded figure, and cradled my legs into an Indian sitting position, and looked up at the hooded figure. He was the only sign of...dare I say it...life in this seemingly hellish inferno I'd landed myself in.

"Hello?" I asked, my voice about the only thing that I felt was the same.

I was met with nothing but silence from the tall figure. My rational mind seemed to agree with my irrational mind that the figure probably either couldn't or just didn't talk. Then again was I going to want to hear what this...thing would say?

I decided if I was going to be comfortable, I'd have to suck it up and take a seat. I sat upon the rib cage, and my tight firm buttocks found little difficulty sitting upon what I thought would be a frail and fragile set of bones.

Off in the distance I heard something reminiscent of a requiem bell, a gong of some sort, and the smoke parted. My mouth dropped at what I saw. It was quite literally everything you think of when you think of hell. Giant black buildings that rise almost endlessly into the fiery sky, a light rain of embers that floated down through the smoky haze like snow along with a minor dusting of ash. I was now moving down some sort of river of lava that flowed through the center of town, some of the buildings seemingly built on this ocean not unlike the buildings of Venice. Every so often I caught glimpses of shadows moving, and glowing eyes staring at me. I felt very disarmed and very uncomfortable. I felt beyond naked, I felt like I was on display for some reason.

The buildings ranged in architecture of every style imaginable: there were perverse pagodas that seemed to be made out of giant bones and flesh, to giant high rises of iron and chains. Statues of gargoyles and demons and devils and creatures of all types horrid and beautiful in their malevolence decorated everything else, the eyes of the statues also seeming to follow me. Every so often I heard the sounds of whippings, and screams. Oh there were screams, but also there were choruses of deep baritone voices singing somewhere...adding to the uncomfortable din that filled my ears.

And then, the boat came to a stop, the ground at a level that I'd have to step up into. There before me, was a great and terribly handsome demon. His wings seemed to stretch on forever as he flexed them, folding them draconically behind his back. His skin was a bright and shiny red, adorned with black tribal tattoos all over his body. His head was fox like in shape, though he had no fur on his body, just deep red and white skin matching the normal fur pattern of a fox. His penis...was something that made my mouth water...as if I'd been thirsty for a thousand years. It hung nearly a foot in length and an inch or so in diameter, it's prodigious hooded foreskin hiding its head from sight. It was white and decorated with the same tribal tattoos, His knees, elbows, heels and eyebrows were decorated with handsome horns, the horns on his forehead extending and swooping back like a dragons. His tail was like mine, long and almost serpentine.

The male wore on his legs and arms straps that made him look like he was from an S&M parlor. His chest was also covered in a matching harness. On his shoulders was a black see through silk robe with some cruel looking runes that almost hurt me to look at. The strange thing was, I'd never seen such runes like that before in life and I could understand what they read: and with every word I would read aloud in my head, my mind would burn as if afire.

"I am he who guides the souls, and I am he who polices souls - call me dictator."

"Ah welcome, welcome. Please step from the boat fledgling, and enter the city of Cyantiss!"

With fear I obeyed, and I stepped form the boat, finding walking with these newly formed feat was a bit more difficult, but I'd grow used to it in time...so I prayed. The boat behind me continued downstream. I looked and realized I was in some sort of forum, or staging area. Raised stair like platforms went up in disorganized semi-circles like a stairway leading up into the city. In the center of this circle on which I was on the divider, was some sort of compass of lava, with holes in the ground upon which I stood gave windows into. A thin layer of what felt like glass separated myself from the 2000 plus degree molten rock and metal.

The male in front of me carried a book of polished stone that seemed to be chained to his wrist by a moderate chain. A thick metal color of what looked like hematite was branded around his neck with similar cruel runes that spelled Malkijir. I sounded out the name in my head and again felt nothing but stinging pain of flames as spoke mal-key-jeer inside of my head.

I struggled to find my voice again, behumbled and frightened of this beautiful man in front of me. The male on second inspection did have long black hair atop his head, cleanly kept behind his head in a simple tail. It just made him all the more mysterious.

"Cyantiss? What is Cyantiss? Where is this? Where am I?"

The demon cackled with laughter, and brushed an ember away from his eyes. "You don't know where you are? Do you? You are in Cyantiss...the new capital of Hell. You fledgling are in Hell!"

I gasped, hoping this was some kind of bad dream. Yeah, that was it. I'd wake up right about now and have a good laugh and do whatever it was I did in my normal life. But being told I was in hell was not a comfortable feeling either.

"Hell? Hell?? I'm dead?" I asked, looking curiously up at the fox.

He nodded and smiled, baring shiny black fangs and teeth. "That's right fledgling. You're dead!"

"Dead?"

"Dead as Whitney Huston's career." The fox said with another laugh before he pulled a gold key that he wore from around his neck, and opened his stone book with it. The tablet "pages" of the book clanked as he turned them; giving me the impression this book was rather heavy. I saw those sick and gross runes that adorned his robe and his collar on the cover of the book, and presumed they were the same on the inside. I didn't want to read the cover of the book, because I knew it would burn. Though curiosity ultimately won out with me in the end.

"The Book of Hell - Laws, Rules, Decrees, and Protocols." Burned in my cranium. Every syllable was pure unadulterated agony. I knew that reading wasn't going to be fun and I was really going to have to reconsider my urges to do so.

"Now it is my duty to inform you of the 7 major laws in which governs this land. Please be silent until I'm finished." He began.

"

Abandon all hope

Repenting for your sins will only be considered an annoyance - don't do it

Calling for god will just make things worse on you

The flogging will continue regardless of the status of morale

Your wants are irrelevant - you do as you are commanded

Fledglings will always serve their masters - no Fledglings shall ever rule

There is no going back.

"

"Now then, lets look up your name on the list of charges." He said with a sick and twisted joy. He flipped the "pages" to the end of the book, and placed a black talon on the page, scraping it not unlike a nail across a chalkboard. I hugged myself and sat down on the glassy metallic/stony ground and rocked back and forth. I was finding it difficult to abandon my hope but at the same time...it seemed like a sound thing to do. I was in hell! What else are you going to do? Look on the bright side? The bright side of what, the lava?

Though I noticed the Fox's face fall to a look of confusion, or perhaps disappointment. He flipped a tablet page back then flipped it forward again. It was as if he had lost his place or was missing a piece of information.

"This...this can't be. You, what's your name?" He asked as he glared with his piercing yellow eyes. For the life of me, as hard as I thought, I couldn't remember, and it was most aggravating. I didn't remember anything about my life except the last thing I did which was go to sleep. So I told him so. He scoffed and said. "Perfect, I forgot that little detail...we all forget our real names but the book normally never lies. But...there is nothing here for you! I've done this job for 100 years, and never have I come across this before. There's always a name and a description of my charges...and it has nothing for you...nothing at all! This has to be one of Bunny's tricks I'm sure of it!"

I wanted to ask "Bunny?" but instead I thought it better of myself if I didn't say anything. The fox checked the tablet over and over again and shook his head in frustration before glaring at me once more.

"Well you're here...but the book says you're not. So I have no choice, I must take you to the big man." He said as he grasped my hand, and yanked me along like a lost child. I followed, more scared than I'd ever been in my life.

The ground as we walked up the stairs, was warm and made my feet sizzle, as if I was standing on a warmed hot plate. I didn't like it at all. As we made it to the main avenue, I saw some of the most horrid sights I could imagine. People being skinned in the street and their pelts being sold by the barrel full, black chariots that were being pulled by damned souls with hooks and chains imbedded in their backs, and people hanging from chains acting as street signs and decorations.

We ended up in a chariot that was being pulled by something that looked like it was once a pit bull, but now looked like a slightly rotting corpse. "Master...you called for me?"

The fox walked up to the put bull and spat something black and acidic in his face, I could almost feel the dog's pain as he yelped in sudden agony, then...near erotic pleasure as he rubbed the black acid onto his face. It was definitely a sickening sight, but even more odd was how his skin seemed to regenerate back to the rotten form it was before. How trans-mundane!

"You're here aren't you? You felt the call, and you showed up - Do you think I have the time to summon you to my side because I'm bored? No! But you are loyal Spartan, and for that I think I may use you again this evening, but for now take us to the palace. I must meet with Lucifer before long."

"Oh dear! If you need to see lord Morningstar then it must be serious! You only see him if there's trouble."

"And there is trouble. This soul here is lost. He is neither fallen nor damned...he is just...(growls) Here! And the book of Laws says nothing about him, so I must take him to Lord Morningstar to have his name checked in the Book of Souls."

"Yes sir...I will take you there with haste!" The slave nodded as I sat down on the chariot, and felt the surprisingly ice cold metal chariot beneath my buttocks, and I sat in it as if it was a savior's open palm.

The fox produced a cruel looking whip from no where, and whipped the pit bull across his back, opening up a puss filled bloody wound, and the dog pulled at his chains, tugging us forward towards what I could only guess was the home of the devil.

* * *

The palace of Lucifer Morningstar, the unquestioned arch-duke of hell, definitely seemed to expand high into the clouds of smoke and fire. I didn't want to look up much due to the constant snow of embers and ash that was falling. But, your first impression of this place would be a fair one if you thought this was one of H.R. Geiger's wet dreams. That is the only words I could use to describe it...phallic and sexual organs carved into the architecture, skeletons, alien shapes and perverted art...all interwoven into some twisted orgy of evil.

A tremendous flaming sigil hung over the front of the entrance. A goat's head with 3 horns was along the bottom, a naked woman in the middle with the middle horn buried deep within her vagina. There appeared to be a pentagram behind them both which was inverted, and made the image more evil in my eyes. And yet...for some reason as I saw that woman riding that goat's horn like it was the penis of her most intimate lover, and her arms and legs spread unabashedly in the anatomical position, I...I felt like I wanted to be her. I wanted to feel a penis sliding into me...and I didn't know why. Was I...gay?

I didn't get much time to ponder over it. We exited the chariot and walked towards the entrance to this grand castle. The red carpet appeared to be made of cloth, but as we walked I came to realize the cloth was soaked with a viscous red substance...blood. I shivered slightly and noticed the demon next to me didn't seem to notice or care, leading me once more by the wrist.

The hallways of this castle seemed to be uniform, and infinite, and expansive. Shields adorned the wall every so often, with what looked like a face, terrified and in agony. I passed one that had a background of bright colors and a lion, and the image of a long haired bearded man with a crown on his head, screaming in a perpetually silent scream. Across the way was a red shield with a white ring and a black swastika in the middle. A man with a short mustache and clean cropped black hair was screaming in pain and agony. I didn't' understand.

"Sir...what are these?" I asked, pointing to a third Shield that interested me, this one with a blue field spangled with white stars, and underneath a set of vertical red and white stripes. That seemed familiar for some reason. There was no face in this one, only a symbol that I new read "W".

"Oh, that's right, you've never been here before. (Frustrated groan) Nave, one thing you must understand is, that I don't have time to explain things to you yet...you're by all rights not supposed to be here. But...since you're here I might as well show you. These are what are called the Shields of Fallen Leaders. Every time a great leader in history sells his soul to us in order to assure himself a seat in power, we mount a shield here in these halls for them. When they die, they come down here and become trapped inside the shields...to forever feel the angst and woes that his own people wished upon him. Every bad thing everyone ever wanted to do to that person, they are now feeling. Even to this day when someone says 'I'd sure love to shove a grenade up that guy's ass', they feel it. So they will hang in the hall of Fallen Leaders forever...to remind us demons what real power is."

"And...dare I ask, what is real power?"

"Real power lies here," He said, indicating himself. "You are the ultimate power...you are what really controlls your fate...it's your actions that govern your future. Well, except for the fact we have to find out why you're here."

"And how are we going to do that?"

The handsome and ungodly beautiful fox stopped in his tracks and said "Just follow me...you'll know soon enough."