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[b][u][center]Hurled Through Hell[/center][/u][/b]

[b][u][center]Chapter 1[/center][/u][/b]

[b][u][center]For Damiekinz[/center][/u][/b]

[b][u][center]By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]

Eoghann leaned back in his chair, the wooden table between him and the dancer on stage barely enough to hide the work that his hand was doing between his legs. Cock out, balls dangling down onto the wooden chair, the badger was focusing on enjoying himself and not thinking about the ticking clock in the back of his head.

It wasn’t that hard to forget about things in a place like this. Eoghann had already forgotten the name of the pub; there were hundreds like it across the land, some with more debauchery, some with less. He’d seen quite a few in the forty-eight years and chance that he had been wandering around, fulfilling his part of his pact.

[i]Don’t think about that,[/i] the brown-and-cream-furred badger thought, squeezing the handle of his mug with his free hand. [i]Just think about that fat ass and the dancer shaking it for everyone…[/i]

He smiled as he brought the mug to his lips, still looking over the pewter edge at the brown-furred bear bouncing his hips up, down, up, down, twerking that ass before standing up and swaying it from side to side. A little bit of backsac completed the view as he walked around a wooden pole that was jammed into the stage and ran to the ceiling, swaying those large hips as he walked, showing off just how big his species was.

Not the first time that Eoghann had enjoyed a view like that, and he doubted that it would be the last. As long as his plans for the night went off properly, he would be enjoying views like that for a long, long time to come.

He sipped down another mouthful of mead before putting his mug back on the table. His eyes followed the bear’s ass for a moment before the big bruin walked around to face the audience once more. Big fat bear dick wobbled up, down, up, down, thrust into the air and then left to fall over those balls again as the bear ground his ass back against the pole. Not as interesting for the badger, and his thoughts started to drift to other things.

The din of the other pub-goers faded, the faces of the other species around him becoming blurs. Even his hand on his dick slipped down, falling to his side as he realized how close he was to the end of the forty-nine year time limit.

[i]You’re close to fulfilling your end of the bargain, too; it’ll be fine.[/i]

He knew that he needed to stop drinking. Pushing the half-full mug away from him, he tied his pants shut again, leaning his head back against the top of his chair.

[i]Berith. Astaroth. Marthim. Haborym. Zaleos. Haagenti. Ronove.[/i]

Most would have thought better than to make a pact with an archfiend, but Eoghann had been arrogant enough to make a pact with all seven of them. They were the seven greatest and most powerful creatures of the under-planes, offering power, giving him the chance to build up his strength and keep him alive for forty-nine years in exchange for chasing after the pages of the Demonicon. If he managed it, they’d keep him alive forever, giving him the power of immortality and even more magic to fling about the world.

It had seemed worth it, at the time. Eoghann shook his head as he remembered their faces, their images seared into his head. Their glowing red grins, their searing eyes, had made it clear that they would take his soul if he failed. They’d give no mercy.

Well, Ronove might, but the rest would overrule him. From what he’d seen at that first meeting, they always did.

Still, despite the impending deadline, Eoghann still had some confidence. The badger forced a small smile until a natural one caught up, and it pulled at the corners of his mouth until he had a genuine smile going.

[i]You’ve got all the other pages already. There’s just one left. And that’s better than anyone expected of someone like you.[/i]

After all, the Demonicon had been a powerful artifact of the Before-Times, from what little he had managed to dig up about the damn thing. Filled with page upon page of information on devils and demons alike, it had been scattered across the world in an effort of the under-planes to keep any one creature from getting power over all the others. After all, if nobody had all the information, then nobody could control all the hells.

It made sense to him, though he imagined that the Archfiends that held his contract planned on changing that. He was pretty sure that they weren’t having him collect all the pages just to keep up a good defense.

[i]I can get the last one tonight. Long as I don’t do anything stupid, I can get the last one tonight.[/i]

The badger had already tracked his quarry to this pub. He knew that the horse was upstairs, probably resting from a long day on the road. All he had to do was paralyze the man, take the page, and then his pact would be fulfilled.

[i]Forty-eight years on the road. Forty-eight years of never aging. And once I get that page, no more aging ever again.[/i]

Immortality was a mixed bag, but the mix was definitely more positive than negative as far as he was concerned. The idea of losing out by never dying felt absurd. The longer that he lived – and the more of his youth that he could retain – the better.

After all, he was already middle-aged, and that was as far as he wanted to go. The pact had kept him from aging for all these years. In a very short time, he’d never age again. He’d have this potency for the rest of his life, he’d have the power that the Archfiends offered, and he would be able to do whatever he wanted.

Immortality meant far more for someone like him than it ever would for some soldier or warrior. They had a tight ceiling on how good they could get. Warlocks, wizards, sorcerers: they only got stronger, learning more and more magic as the years went by. He would become someone that the world would never forget, and perhaps he might even become a warlock lord of the land. Once he was completely immortal, he would have to consider whether he wanted to just keep wandering the land instead of settling down and making something for himself.

Eoghann put those wandering thoughts to rest. They were a distraction, something born out of the minor fear of fucking up. And if he let them get any stronger, then he would fuck up. He was so close now. He couldn’t falter at the finish line.

The badger glanced toward the stairs leading from the wood-walled common room toward the upper chambers. No sign of the horse yet. If he didn’t come down soon, the warlock might have go up and get the page himself.

[i]Wait…wait…they’ll follow you if you do it too early. You might be immortal, but not for much longer if you don’t get that page. And they don’t have to kill you to fuck you over on that one.[/i]

That had happened more than once, Eoghann thought as he turned back to the dancing grizzly bear. The time that he had been thrown off a bridge by someone that he’d underestimated had left him carried away by the river for a half-dozen miles, and the time that he’d spent crawling out of the water, being sick, and then finally catching up with the target again ended up costing him almost three months.

Being immortal didn’t mean that he was invulnerable. Being magical didn’t mean that others couldn’t fuck with him.

[i]Don’t scare him off, don’t wind up chasing him. Just let him come down for an evening walk, follow him, paralyze him, take the page. That’s all you gotta do. Don’t do anything flashy, that can come later…[/i]

He shook his head. The bear had turned around again, gripping the pole with both hands and shaking his ass from side to side. He bounced it down, the cheeks parting on the way back up and showing off a bit of flesh for a moment before they clapped together. The bear’s fat ass was just a tribute to the species, as far as he was concerned, and the badger smiled as he groped himself over his pants again.

As much as he would like to lose himself in the dance, he knew better than to undo his clothes and go back to stroking. The illusion would keep anyone from noticing, but there was the chance that the horse would leave the building and he’d miss it if he was too focused on the dancer. He needed to be ready.

Still. It was an enjoyable distraction. The barmaid came and went, taking his mug away, and he continued to idly massage his erection through his pants as the bear swapped out with a caribou, and then the caribou swapped out with a large-hipped fox.

The fox was just tapping out for a fat-bottomed rat when Eoghann saw movement in the corner of his eye. He didn’t move his head, only flicking his eyes toward the stairs as a flash of yellow mane caught his eye. A silver-banded tail of the same hue flicked back and forth as its own walked down the stairs, making his way to the front door.

[i]That’s him,[/i] Eoghann thought, turning his eyes back to the naked albino rat. [i]Pity. I think you’d have been fun.[/i]

He adjusted his vest, pulling it a little tighter over his chest, and took his hand away from his crotch. The badger counted to ten, then pushed himself to his feet.

As he tossed a gold coin to the rat, getting a whistle from the rodent in return, he decided that he’d get into either the brothel or the pub business once he became immortal. It’d be nice to have a collection of all those dancers and sex workers without having to deal with the complexities of a harem. No serious emotional attachments, no worries about relationships or anything like that. Just fat asses, hard cocks, and good, deep holes for him to enjoy whenever he needed to.

Eoghann walked through the common room and out of the pub. The moon was already high, which meant that it was later than he thought. Glancing left and right, he caught sight of the horse’s hoofprints on the dirt street and followed them, keeping his hands in his pockets and doing his best not to focus on the possibility of screwing up now.

[i]He’s not far. He wasn’t walking fast. You have time.[/i]

The tracks led him to an alley, and he spotted the equine trader at the end of it, just rounding a corner. A missed opportunity, but it would come again. Eoghann kept telling himself to be patient and followed after, taking one deep breath after another and shutting the voice that was freaking out up.

Around the corner.

Down the street.

Into another alley.

Just outside a shop, then down the street again.

Each time, he found himself a little bit closer, almost in reach. The crowds were thinning as they got closer and closer to the edge of the small town, and he knew that his opportunity would come soon. His fingers itched in his pockets as he kept clenching them into fists, focusing on his breathing and not being too obvious.

Finally, the time came. They were right on the bridge over the river out of town. The yellow-maned stallion leaned against the railing on the side of the bridge, and Eoghann raised his hand.

Power. The magic of the Archfiends rushed through him, as hot as the infernos that burned in some of the under-planes. He clenched his fist as he raised it higher, a green and red fire burning between his fingers.

The stallion turned as he released the spell, the magic loosed from his fingers. It clapped against the other man, hitting his chest and running across his limbs before leaving him frozen in place. The slithering tendrils of the hellish magic continued to move even after Eoghann had let go of the spell, and he smirked.

“Heh…Finally.”

“Nngh?”

“Finally, I can get what I want…”

The stallion couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything to stop him. The badger’s lips pulled back in a wide grin, his hand outstretched –

[i]Dong…[/i]

The dull toll of a distant bell was impossible. There were no belltowers in the small town, and the few guard posts that had alarm bells wouldn’t have sounded so deep and so ominous.

Nor would they have stopped his magic in its tracks and flung it back at him.

Eoghann froze in place, his eyes wide as the green and red magics wrapped around his body instead of the stallion.

[i]Dong…[/i]

Even though he knew it was pointless, he struggled. He threw every fiber of his being against the spell wrapped around him even though he knew for a fucking [i]fact[/i] that there was no way out of this spell without great magical power…power that he no longer had.

[i]Dong…[/i]

Three of seven. Four more, and he’d be gone. Even as Eoghann continued to grunt as he tried and failed to move even a fraction of an inch, the stallion stumbled back, panting for breath. His eyes went wide for a moment, only for a smile to cross his face.

“You…you’re the one that’s been hunting for all the pages, aren’t you?” the stallion said, shaking his head as he reached into his jacket and pulled out the little paper square. “You were looking for this, yeah?”

[i]Dong…[/i]

Four. The stallion wiggled the paper at him, smirking all the while. Eoghann strained, trying to touch it. Just an inch, a couple of inches at most, and he would have it in his hand and it would still count. If he could just –

“Well, looks like it’s too late for you. I heard from a little demon of my own that there was still a chance to cut you off. I guess you’re running out of time with whatever you got.”

[i]Dong…[/i]

“How long you got, hm? Must be the last night.”

As the stallion chuckled, something rose up behind him. It was barely visible, barely anything at all, but the shadow had just enough substance for Eoghann to make it out. Viper-shaped, it flicked its tail back and forth, and it opened its mouth to show fangs of purest night.

“I’m going to enjoy seeing you go down to hell, badger.”

[i]Dong…[/i]

He would have screamed if he could. That page was tauntingly just out of reach. If he could just…

There was nothing he could do. Nothing left. Even as he felt the fire of a portal opening under his feet, the heat of a different world rising around him, he heard the final toll, the same as he had at the end of every other year of the pact.

[i]Dong…[/i]

“Happy trails, badger. Say hello to your demons.”

The stallion reached around him and slapped him right on the ass. The loud crack echoed as hellish tendrils grabbed the badger by the ankles and yanked him down, pulling him right out of his clothes and leaving him falling naked through the void between the planes.

The only satisfaction he had was the sudden gasp and thump of the stallion hitting the ground before the portal closed. There was more than one entity chasing him down for the pages of the Demonicon, it seemed.

But that satisfaction lasted hardly any time at all as he fell. His fur flickered and flapped against him as he fell down, down, down through the emptiness of the world. What little scraps of cloth he had – a loincloth, a bracelet, a small pendant – burned away in the rising heat around him, leaving him sweating and completely naked from head to toe. His feet slicked with droplets of sweat that tickled as they ran down the soles of his feet, and his eyes burned as his fur matted to his head and dripped into his eyes.

His cock and balls were dragged back and forth by the wind billowing past, sometimes forced up against his stomach, other times forced to the side along his hips. No matter which way it blew, though, he could always feel the heat in the air and the thickness of the humidity waiting below.

Down.

Down.

Down.

When there was no light left of the world above, when he had given up ever seeing anything again, something flickered. He went from falling to standing, and everything was so off-kilter that he lost his balance and fell, hitting what felt like metal hard enough for his knees to click and his head to spin.

[i]Am I dead?[/i] he wondered.

He didn’t know. He’d never been dead before, but with the ache in his knees and the hoarseness in his throat – he must have been screaming the whole way down – he felt that he had to be alive.

For that matter, he doubted that the archfiends would have killed him. Not without getting his soul first. They wouldn’t have risked him flitting off somewhere else, even with the whole pact contract. They were too thorough for that.

Click.

Something snapped shut around his wrist. He looked down, somehow unsurprised to find some sort of red metal wrapped around it. Slithering, shimmering metal chains led off from the shackle, and he looked down to his other side to see another one slithering serpent-like toward his other arm.

For a moment, he thought about fighting. He decided against it; he couldn’t win, not in their own world, and not when he was already depowered. The badger’s only weapons now were his words.

Click.

His other arm was shackled, and the chains lifted upward. His arms rose with them, and he was dragged back to his feet. Other click-clacks told him that more chains were coming, and Eoghann looked to his left and his right. They were coming right for his ankles, and he closed his eyes –

Click.

Click.

They snapped shut, pulling tight and dragging his legs apart. He wasn’t pulled into the splits, but they were pulled wide, forcing his balls to hang low and his cock to do the same over his sac.

It wasn’t comfortable, particularly with the metal feeling so warm underfoot, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. And the chains weren’t pulling his arms as hard as they might have done in another time. That was something that he could live with.

As he took one deep breath after another, lights started to flicker on. They were of many shades, ranging from a deep yellow to a horrid crimson. Not natural, not like a rainbow, not in any order that he understood, but there were seven, and they pointed at the Archfiends that held his contract, and his soul. They were gathered around him, each on a different platform that he looked down at his, and their eyes glowed as they watched him.

He turned from one to another, trying not to let the power of their reputation put the fear of…well, fear of [i]them[/i] into him. Knowing them as well as he did, and what they had done in the world above and below, however, made that rather difficult.

The first was Berith, the Archfiend of the Circle of Curiosity. The naga lord was wrapped tight around a corkscrew pillar, one that shimmered as brilliantly silver as his own scales shimmered with emerald green. His hood was flared out, his fangs flicking forward and back whenever he opened his mouth, and his long tail seemed to run off into eternity beyond his platform. He chuckled to himself, hissing ever so quietly, but the sound still echoed through the vast chamber.

The second was Astaroth, the Archfiend of the Circle of Indulgence. Eoghann had once thought that the boar was the softest of the seven, considering his paunchy self and being one of the shorter of the great ones, but there was a cunning in the boar’s eyes, even now as he rested on a rocking chair and was fed by the pig-demons that attended to him. His glowing neon orange fur almost made him look absurd, but his worshipers had proven time and time again that he was anything but.

Eoghann turned to the third, one of the most terrifying of the seven. It was Haborym, a Cerberus, and the Archfiend ruler of the Circle of Punishment. The hellhound Cerberus glowed with power and strength, and stared with black eyes and glowing red irises at the badger. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he rested on a palanquin held aloft by dozens of souls that had fallen to his Circle.

He turned away, not daring to look too long lest he draw the other two heads’ attention, and looked to the fourth platform. It was the biggest of the seven, spread wide to allow space for Marthim, the dragon Archfiend that ruled over the Circle of Luxury. The great beast lazed about on an elaborate couch, his feral shape barely fitting upon it with a tail nearly as long as Berith’s and a body that put the others to shame. Though he sipped without care at a goblet of wine held aloft by other souls, his eyes flicked over Eoghann with a knowing amusement, and the badger shivered.

Then his attention slid to the fifth platform, occupied by the smallest of the Archfiends. A reindeer male shivered, his legs spread, his hooves shaking on his platform as he rode a dildo to the hilt, bouncing, rolling his hips against the tip before taking it down to the base again. He was hardly fearsome, but the Archfiend was still powerful enough to rule the Circle of Sensation, a place that Eoghann knew was deceptively entrancing. The reindeer waved with a shaky hand, still moaning, still dripping as he went up, down, up, down, up, down.

Eoghann shuffled in the grip of the chains as he looked to the sixth platform, where Haagenti, tall and mighty bull that he was, stood with his arms folded behind his head. He took a step, one leg outstretched, his violet fur pulled taut over strong muscle and powerful limbs. He stood over twenty feet tall, and his body was proportionally large in all aspects, showing off his might and power. He grinned, his shaft swinging from side to side each time that he shifted his position. It was easy to tell how he ruled the Circle of Display.

And then, finally, there was Ronove. The blue grizzly bear was on his hands and knees, his back occupied with the feet of several of his demonic attendants, one of which held his leash and chuckled as the blue-furred bear looked down on him. Ronove groaned, the ostensible ruler of the Circle of Obedience barely letting a word past his lips as the demons above ground their heels into his back.

Before Eoghann could say a word, Berith flicked one of his fingers. The various pages that he had collected over the last forty-nine years appeared, like ash reforming into what it had been before it had been destroyed. Page after page flickered into existence, shimmering in red-gold fire, and they floated through the air to the open bindings that the naga held out. The badger was silent as the grave as the pages were collected and stuffed into the binding, waiting for the end of it.

When all but a single page had been collected, a shadow of a serpent appeared at Berith’s side. The last page was clenched between its jaws, and the naga Archfiend took it and put it into the book.

Then, and only then, did Eoghann open his mouth.

“I did what you asked,” he said. “I demand my reward.”

“Yes, yes, let him have it,” Ronove said, his head in his hands. “He deserves everything that he wants, nothing like me. He deserves – ah!”

The blue grizzly bear arched his back as one of the demons in his throne spanked him. His fat cheeks jiggled, rippling from the impact as one of the other demons behind him shook his head.

“Shut up, fat-ass. You don’t get to call the shots around here. Not when he’s fucked up the contract.”

“Mmmmmph…”

Ronove shut up, alright, and Eoghann did his best not to stare too hard as the demon bear oozed pre-cum across the floor under him. He knew that Ronove was hardly a normal demon, but that…that was something else.

As Berith held the book, flicking between the pages, the air stirred with raw power. There was a sense of pressure and release every time that the naga turned the pages, almost like all of the under-planes were being pulled in and let loose with each turn of the page. The sheer power of the book, the magical aura that it had, told him that the Archfiends would be able to affect the world even more than they already had. The power from the book would secure their dominion over Hell and the demons and devils within, avoiding the infighting that could have emerged before. He doubted that the mortals could do anything to stop them, now. It might not even be possible for the gods to stop them, this time.

He tried to take a step forward, forgetting about his chains and getting pulled back. He grunted, shaking his head, and forced himself to speak again.

“You wouldn’t have those pages if it weren’t for me. I personally collected all but one of the pages of the Demonicon; if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have them, nor would you have found the last one.”

“You’re not wrong,” said the deep-voiced central head of Haborym, the Cerberus chuckling. “We wouldn’t have found them, no. There is fairness in what you say.”

“Then –”

“However.” The other heads looked up, the eyes of the crazed, sadistic one known as Ha looking him right in the eye as the center head, Bor, continued to speak. “You were not the one to retrieve it. We had to send one of our own to take it.”

“You still would be waiting for it without me!”

“Nevertheless, the contract states what it states. You would have forty-nine years to find all one thousand pages of the Demonicon and return them to us. You managed to retrieve nine-hundred ninety-nine, and you located the thousandth, but you did not lay hands on it.”

“That’s…that’s not fair!”

“This is Hell,” Berith said, closing the book. “Did you really think that there would be any fairness in Hell?”

“I expected you to follow your own contract!”

“We are,” the naga said, chuckling and hissing under his breath as he passed the book to Haborym. “And your contract specifically states what you had to do to get immortality, and what would happen to you if you failed. And I think that it’s time to move onto that part, don’t you think, everyone?”

“Indeed!” Haagenti said, and his voice was so thunderous that it might as well have been a shout from the heavens. “With your failure of the contract, your life and soul are now forfeit to us, of course! And I know that I, for one, look forward to every moment that I get to spend with it!”

“As do the rest of us,” Astaroth said, the indulgent boar chuckling as he licked his fingers clean. “Mmm, perhaps a better indulgence than that platter has been. Though I will have to wait my turn…”

“Yes, yes, the turns,” Zaleos panted, the reindeer nodding as he bounced up, down, up, down, each time taking that toy to the hilt, and at times seeming to be on the verge of helpless orgasm in the process. “Who was first again?”

“That would be me,” the naga said, Berith nodding his head as he uncoiled himself from the throne. “As we agreed before he got here.”

“You…you knew I would fail?” Eoghann asked, his eyes wide.

“We know more than you can ever imagine,” Marthim said, the feral dragon’s voice as booming as Haagenti’s, but somehow even more elemental, as if it rumbled through the air and ground like the plane itself speaking. “There is no mortal guaranteed to find the pages, and we believed, of course, that it was technically possible – otherwise, we would not have been able to make the pact in the first place.

“But did we think you would? No. Heh. Not in the slightest. It was far more amusing to watch you try.”

“That said, we did settle this some time ago,” Astaroth said. “A game of sorts. To pass the time.”

“And that means that the snake gets me first?!” Eoghann groaned. “There has to be some way out of this. There’s gotta be a clause somewhere that –”

“Mmmm, there is not,” Astaroth said.

“Indeed!” Haagenti laughed, flexing both arms over his head. “I checked! And double-checked! Triple-checked, even!”

“And Ronove will be last,” Berith said, chuckling through his fangs. “Because he decided that everyone else should go before him. We had to convince him that he would need to take his turn as well, rather than just pass and let us have our fun once more.”

“Once – no…no, no…”

“Indeed,” Berith hissed. “You had forty-nine years of immortality, mortal. Forty-nine years where you would not die, where you could not age. You had your chance to earn your way to more, and you knew the price when you lost.”

“I thought…forty-nine years…”

“Yes…forty-nine years, in cycles.”

“…Oh no…”

“Yes…Seven years for each Archfiend, seven years for seven masters. And at the end of those forty-nine years, you will be passed to the first again, to start anew. It will be most pleasant to see how long it takes you to break, badger, if you break at all.”

The reality of what had happened was finally hitting him. Being pulled through the portal had been the start, telling him that his time was up, but he hadn’t believed that he had completely lost just yet. Not then. He still believed that it was possible for him to pull himself up again, to find a way forward, to…

To be…

To not belong…

To avoid being…

The word kept sliding away from him, impossible to conceive. For the first time, all the fear that he had been holding down for the last decade of the pact came forward with full force. He had [i]lost,[/i] and that meant that his life and soul was no longer his own. He was demon [i]property,[/i] and unless he got very, very lucky, there was no way to freedom. He’d be no different to the various minions that were holding Marthim’s goblet aloft, or the souls that were keeping Haborym’s palanquin in the air, or any of the others that served their masters. If he was very, very lucky, he might get to a point of dominating Ronove like the demons on his throne, but that was very unlikely, and –

And the world was darkening.

At first, he thought that the lights were going out, but no. The Archfiends were as illuminated as ever. Instead, the darkness was surrounding him, wrapping around him like more chains from below and creeping up his legs little by little. It gripped him tighter than the chains did, and yet, there were hands in that darkness, hands that squeezed, hands that groped, hands that had him by the cheeks and spread him wide –

“See you soon, badger,” Berith said, the naga chuckling as the blackness spread across Eoghann’s vision. “See you soon.”

He had no chance to respond. The blackness wrapped around him, making him blind, deaf, and soon, completely unconscious. He fell, not even into dream, but into utter oblivion, to wait for the moment when the Archfiends had use of him.

For such was the power of the seven. They had used him, and now, they would use him again…

And again…

And again…

[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]

Summary: The beginning of another series, this one with a badger warlock that made a very bad deal and now has to pay up.

Tags: M/solo, Bondage, Nudity, Exhibitionism, Masturbation, Badger, Bear, Various Species, Demon Deal, Pact, Failure to Deliver, Exposure, Series,