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He couldn't cool down, no matter what he did. The summer heat had supposedly faded to give way to a cool, crisp autumn, but no matter where he went, Cherno was sweltering. It was like it was coming from inside of him, a furnace in his heart, radiating outwards until he was a sweaty mess even under the moonlight. He was left miserable, devoid of energy, yet unable to sleep at night even totally uncovered. He'd stopped going out, letting other relationships falter, as he focused solely on combating that constant state of overheating, a bag of frozen peas resting snugly between his antlers while he lingered in front of the air conditioner, letting it blast icy air that still couldn't seem to banish the fire inside him. Maybe it was time to see a doctor.

When the bag on his head was dripping water down the back of his neck, he finally relented, pacing back to the living room on unsteady hooves. He felt like he could have just passed out at any minute. He wasn't wearing a shred of clothing, either. There was no one around to see him, nakedly sweating and panting there in the dark. All the lights were off, just in case that helped keep the place from heating up even more, but he found himself stumbling over furniture for how dark it got since last he was in the room. There was nothing coming in the windows, no moonlight, no streetlights, and the faint outlines and shadows of chairs and tables were blackened by an all-encompassing darkness, as if the room had simply ceased to exist beyond the reach of his hands. He stopped dead in his tracks for a time, overwhelmed by the sense of emptiness, of nothingness surrounding him. His ears perked up for the sign of anything, for any hint that he wasn't in that moment spontaneously alone in the entire universe. And soon he wished he was.

It started as nothing more than a faint red glow in the dark, little more than a flicker of a candle, but it grew deeper, and brighter, seeming to leaving his surroundings darker, formless as it took over the room. There was only him at the crimson glare, becoming not one but two separate sources of light in time as his eyes refocused and adjusted. It was watching him. At first he sensed nothing but a shadow, the outline concealed by the shadow, the glare of red in his vision obscuring the infernal details. There was a figure there, one far from ordinary. As it became more clear, Cherno expected to see revealed the shape of a hulking beast, of a monster, of something truly vile, but instead he found himself gazing upon the form of a horse, a figure standing on four enormous hooves, his bulk calling into question whether the house around them would even stand up to his massive weight or collapse around them. Yet still, just a horse, a common, reliable animal. Yet what might have been a comforting sight, a relatively mundane reveal compared to what he'd been dreading, offered him no peace. There was something wrong with that horse.

It wasn't just the size of him, but that didn't help. That heavily muscled brute of a beast of burden was taller and heavier than any horse Cherno had ever heard of. The buck barely stood any taller than his chest, and that was with his antlers included. He felt small, especially as the room seemed to vanish around them, leaving them in nothing more than a void, as far as he could see. The wall of darkness prevented him from focusing on anything but the stallion before him, the black-maned behemoth with a shiny hide to match, appearing ever so smooth to the touch. He wanted to touch, immediately tempted by the impossibly massive creature, for reasons he couldn't quite explain. This wasn't the time for that. He was supposed to be afraid, especially when those smoky red eyes came complimented by the glimmer of teeth far too sharp to be properly equine. There were more like a nightmare, highlighted in the radiant crimson by the glow of his eyes, left slick by the drag of a broad, forked tongue over their sharpened points.

The heat never faded. If anything, it had grown more intense, but it had also changed, in the process. It wasn't an unpleasant sweltering feeling anymore. If was more like a cloud of pleasant warmth. He was still sweating plenty, but he didn't mind it anymore. It made him feel smooth, sleek, sexy. The way those eyes bore into him, he couldn't help but feel admired, even if it was by some sort of horse demon. And as the sweat rolled down his fur, so too did it glisten upon the horse's hide, rolling down in considerable droplets, pattering down to the floor with a sound like rain. Then there was a scent, a distinctly equine musk made more stimulating, more enticing by a touch of the supernatural like smoky incense. It was one that hit Cherno's nostrils in such interesting ways, leaving him breathing slower, deeper, calming himself despite the inherent intimidation of the demon before him. Maybe demon didn't even properly describe such a figure. There was a regal aura all around him, like a dark king, a lord. Maybe a devil. Or maybe THE devil, for all Cherno knew. He just wanted to touch that towering creature. Maybe even stroke his great black mane.

Before he could lift a hoof to move, he found himself thrown off balance by a sudden shift. The horse hadn't moved, but the room had. It was like they were standing in an elevator, one that had abruptly jumped to life. He wanted to hold onto something, but he couldn't find any trace of the familiar. There were only those wispy shadows, those shapes in the darkness that he couldn't recognize, their outlines rumbling faintly of danger. He was in a different place then. Light began to flood from all sides, a golden, burning glimmer that reflected off their sweating bodies. He heard the crackle and he smelled the smoke, but the horse's musk was foremost in his mind through it all. When they stopped moving, he found himself staggering at first, but then he just kept walking, reaching up to lay his hands upon the horse's head, to touch and stroke him behind the ears, and to finally enjoy the sensation of running his hands through that silky mane. He wasn't sure why exactly he did it, but he knew the urge was strong and compelling.

"Hello, Cherno," the horse said, and his voice was everything he expected it to be. Thunderously deep. Smoothly seductive. Rumbling out through their fiery surroundings. "Do you remember me?"

That left the buck silent, pulling back just a little, looking at the horse's face. How could he possibly have recognized a monster like him? He certainly would have known if they were familiar with each other.

"I suspected not," the devil continued. "Last time, it was different."

Cherno felt a wave of something washing over him. It was like an intense guilt, something that ran him through the transgressions of his past. Which were few. Maybe times he had inconvenienced someone, or been inconsiderate without really thinking about what he was doing. They were all back, and bare before him, but there was something much greater than that. He bite his lip, standing on the spot, still resting his hands in the horse's mane as if magnetically attached. In his memory, he found himself suddenly aware of a great, gaping void. There had been something major there before, but it was gone now. Yet the more he searched for it, the less he could grasp at it. Something did come loose, a tiny piece of knowledge he didn't know he possessed until then, bringing to his lips the first and only word he'd spoken since the intrusion upon his living room, somewhere far away and above.

"Vaul?"

"Indeed. I like this you better. This one deserves a reward."

Then came the stammering. Even Cherno thought he sounded a little pathetic, listening to his own voice.

"W-what's happening? Who are you, though? Where ..."

He didn't finish. A wave of fear washed over him, and his knees began to buckle for the trembling of his legs. The horse's voice came firm and commanding.

"You are in hell. As should be obvious. Not for any sort of cruel or selfish actions, not for being sinful of heart. None of that." His great head came closer, lips pressed almost against the buck's ear. "You are here for your great need."

"Need?"

"Yes. You need to be taken. Used. Ruined. And above all, broken. I could feel your need from where I stood and watched. And so I will teach you to truly submit."

The words, slowly spoken with such presence, such control, they went straight to Cherno's cock. He was firming with every syllable, standing tall and firm, unimpeded by any clothing. He was naked before the devil horse, his arousal plain to see, but even then he stepped back, staggering, and finally tripping over his own hooves. Going down meant he could look up at the ceiling, or what used to be one. His living room was long gone by then. Maybe they had left it behind, or maybe it had simply burned down as hell itself encroached upon his living space. He saw only the fiery confluence of his surroundings, the roil and the flame, the smell of smoke nearly as thick as that of enticingly masculine horse sweat. But not quite. In the distance, there came a vile soundtrack of demonic bellows, of groans either sexual or pained, or maybe both, and he knew that there was nowhere for him to run. Sitting up, and getting a better look at Vaul, he knew he was better off with him than alone in the burning halls of the underworld.

He witnessed the drop of a horse cock as thick as his forearm, then thicker at the slightest swell. It wasn't hard yet, just bobbing along with the devil horse's titanic nuts as he moved, slowly, steadily, approaching the fallen buck with an indiscernible look in those featureless red eyes. Steam was already coming off of his body, the sweat glistening upon his hide, his musculature visibly flexing with his every step. Even moving slowly, those hooves fell like hammers upon a forge, the distinct clop echoing out through the hellfire until it was coming back to Cherno's ears, twisted and distorted to something like a monstrous growl. Hell itself shook upon the horse's approach, and that flared cock just kept filling out, thickening to something more akin to a club, a blunt demolishing device, one longer than Cherno's entire torso before it had even hardened. He had no idea what he was supposed to do with it, but he didn't ask any more questions.

The buck flinched when those two hooves came down on just beside his shoulders. That could have been a devastating stomp, crushing him in an instant, but instead he was simply shadowed by that great stormcloud of a horse, the sleek, pitch black muscles dripping with perspiration, raining down upon the naked buck while he squirmed with a sense of anticipation. The horse was already showing some signs of arousal, and his scent, his scent - Cherno was licking over his lips, even while experiencing a minor panic. That sweat all but sizzled when it hit his skin, the heat overwhelming, making him feel like he was immersed in a sauna at full blast. But if getting hotter meant getting his nose drenched in a deeper taste of the horse's wicked musk, then he was all for lingering there a while, basking in the essence steaming from that muscled frame, pouring down upon him in drops big enough to splash, soaking into his core to mark him with that otherworldly aroma.

The horse spoke again, leaning down close, his nostrils flaring, breath steaming in Cherno's face, hot and tempting, a richness that he wished to inhale until he could hold no more.

"We are at the gates now. I will take you deeper. But no one crosses alive."

Cherno's question came out as nothing more than a choked gasp that hardly resembled a word. He saw those fangs. They gleamed brighter than the sun, or so it felt, reflecting the dark hellfire as they came bearing down on him. He curled himself up protectively, scooting away, looking more like a frightened animal than anything. Rather than go for the throat, Vaul instead caught him by the ankle, wrapping snugly around one hoof, then the other. Those jaws latched onto him, deadly teeth digging into his skin, but not piercing the flesh. He felt the wet embrace of a devilish tongue wrapping about his calves, binding them together, leaving him unable to do anything but tug and drag himself along a floor that felt like heated fur against his skin. Yet it was cold in contrast to the confines of the devil's maw, monstrous teeth gnawing up his shins, his calves, overtaking his knees no matter how much he squirmed and bleated. No one was coming to save him.

Through it all, he hadn't softened. Maybe he just hadn't had enough time to lose his arousal in the face of the fear. Or maybe the embrace of a slick gullet massaging around his legs, dragging him towards his doom within the horse's body was doing something to him. Vaul couldn't have possibly known about those private thoughts, those fantasies he kept solely to himself lest they be discovered. His cheeks flushed hot even as he scrambled in terror, methodically being eaten alive, fed into the muscular neck of that hulking beast. He was up and off the ground, held up by that colossal strength along, pushing his hands against the devil's teeth as the immensely tight clench of his throat embraced him from hooves to thighs in slippery saliva. It was so hot inside the horse that it stifled Cherno's efforts to cry out, as managing little more than a rasping gurgle in his throat as he was wrenched inwards by the strength of that almighty swallow. He was getting eaten, and no amount of fighting would change that. Neither would praying.

The roars around him grew more intense, as if there were a thousand demons leering at his impending demise. He couldn't see any of them. It was growing darker, the fires blotting out around him as he was dragged into the depths of the horse. He briefly found his voice again when his cock brushed against the roof of Vaul's mouth, briefly bleating in the dark. Those equine eyes still glowed their ominous red, but they had faded some. Or maybe that was just Cherno's own vision as he teetered closed to fainting in primal, mortal terror. Mortal was no longer adequate to explaining it. Something worse than death awaited him in the belly of the unholy beast, and he was nothing but a writhing morsel, mere flesh to be destroyed in the blackened pit that was Vaul's stomach. That throat slipped over the buck's hard shaft, leaving him whimpering, clenching his teeth, biting his lip, his struggles failing in favour of weakly shaking. Fearsome teeth glazed over the fur of his belly, tingling up his spine, and all the while that sinful tongue was stroking him, smearing him, tasting his every detail until it affixed itself firmly around his throat, choking out any effort to argue against his looming fate.

He reached one hand out, then the other, grasping at the nothingness around them. All had gone dark by then, the flames died to nothing, the void overtaking his vision. There were only the other sensations left. He felt himself falling in slow-motion, gradually dragged down the horse's gullet by those squeezing muscles. His muzzle went cresting over the back of Vaul's tongue, and then he felt that mighty gulping squeezing around his throat, his head, his entire skull. He thought maybe he would be crushed on the spot and that would be it, but his body held fast even as he vanished into the wet embrace of the horse's gullet, his lips parted but silent as he vanished into the depths beyond. There were only his antlers and his outstretched hands protruding from those dripping jaws, saliva running blazing hot between his fingers, dripping from the points of his antlers. Those might have bothered a mortal creature to swallow down whole with the rest of him. But Vaul was far more than mortal. A snort, a deep huff that puffed hot air over the buck's whole body, and the horse tilted his maned head back to swallow with a gulp that overtook Cherno's entire perception, sending the bulge of frightened deer descending into his chest, vanishing behind the ebon muscle, appearing again as a bulge that slightly sagged his taut belly.

It sealed all but airtight around him, allowing only the barest room for gasping out in horror. He couldn't scream. There wasn't enough left in his lungs for that. He heard crunching as it squeezed inwards upon him, and he thought he must have been in pain, but he didn't feel it. Even with the absence of torment, it remained his own private hell. The heat was unbearable, sweat rolling off of him as the sizzling fluids rose up a level just short of drowning him. He was alive for the whole thing, or at least he felt it. His body was broken down, flash-digested, torn to its essential pieces in a few gruesome seconds. There was nothing left of him with which to express his horror, feeling himself stripped to the bone, breaking apart into segments, dissolved into the smallest traces. Through it all, he never felt the embrace of nothingness, remaining aware, conscious, existing, at least to some extent. The sound was deafening, gurgling aggressively all around him until it wasn't. Even when he felt his own dying spasms, his sense of self endured, leaving him wondering what could possibly have been left of him.

The hostile splurch faded to more of a distant gurgle. He was moving. It felt like he was floating, for a time. Something light came over him, a feeling of complete ease, as if he'd all at once been released from his earthly burdens. Then he came crashing down, falling, silently shrieking. He didn't know what was happening to him. But when he opened his eyes again, he was himself, or appeared to be. He held his own hands in front of him, and saw them as they were before. That was a position he couldn't hold for long, soon scrambling for balance and grabbing onto the nearest thing he could fine. That turned out to be Vaul's mane, leaving him buried muzzle-deep in that thick, silky horsehair, the sweat squeezing out between his fingers, bringing that scent back into his nose. His own digestion felt like a distant memory by then. Instead he was clinging to the horse's bare back, trying not to slip on the sweaty hide beneath him, nakedly riding the devil towards the gates of chaos.

At first, he wasn't sure what he saw, exactly. There were too many visions at once. A more typical fiery hell faded into an erratic display like flipping through several channels at rapid speed. They blurred together, giving him brief flashes of horrific images, of torment and gore and despair. Wails of anguish rang out of a crumbling fortress, only for it to shift into a towering monolith of flesh and bone. Scenes of bloody conflict delved into writhing depravity, into non-euclidean oddities that he couldn't begin to properly comprehend. The landscape took its time in deciding what it really was, or at least how it appeared. He rode on, clinging to the horse, breathing of his musk, listening to the hooves echoing through the infinite hollows until hell itself bent to his will. It settled upon a sinister kingdom, adorned in black and red, and before them stood a dark gate, its bars stretching up farther than Cherno could see, vanishing into the swirling red mist that was the sky. When Vaul approached, they began to open, kicking up the fog as it blew past them. Cherno simply held on tight and rode the devil into hell itself, trying not to think about the gravity of such a journey.

Beyond the gates was a moaning city. Vaul took him through empty streets, the structures around them a blend of precious metal and solid bone. From the windows there spilled unholy sounds that made him shiver. He thought of them as groaning, but they were something deeper, something more guttural and beast-like that he knew there was something sinister lurking just out of sight. Maybe those things were watching him, tracing his progress atop the horse's back as they went. He wondered how quickly he'd be snapped up and devoured by something from the darkest pits of hell if he strayed from Vaul for one moment. He was still alive, or at least, still himself after being devoured by the devil lord, or whatever his title was. That made him far more merciful than some of the other things down there, he was certain. Holding tight to that sweat-dampened mane, he put his trust in the devil, listening to the echo of solid hooves rolling through the twisted shapes of a city, the corruption clear upon each street, each structure, the merest semblance to a real place the best it could do, as if it was a mockery of earthly civilization. A vulgar affront to the notion of control and order.

Their destination was something like a throne room. A great seat of skulls sat tall above the rest of the room, adorned with the remains of creatures beyond description. Cherno couldn't even imagine what sort of monster might have possessed skulls like those he saw topping that chair like trophies. And there were subjects, too. Except, they weren't kneeling in reverence to the horse as he entered. They were clutching at the bars of their tiny prisons, their voices blending together to a chorus of woe as they writhed together. Their movements seemed violent, maybe ritualistic. He saw them as withered husks, perhaps once living creatures like him, drained to near nothing by their captivity, their bodies grinding and colliding as the cages rattled and jumped. He tried not to look at them too closely, but he was pretty sure they were watching him. Before he could think about anything else, Vaul was lowering his head, and letting his rider tumble to the floor, antlers scraping along a harsh surface made of stone or something more nefarious.

Sprawled out inelegantly, Cherno was left to turn over and stare up at the sinister mount who had carried him to that place. His eyes strayed to the side, seeing the shrivelled hands grasping for him, as if begging him to save them. Or maybe just wanting him for themselves. Either way, he belonged to the horse. He knew that much. He was in a similar position as before, crawling away, watching the horse's cock drop heavily below him, twitching, filling out, swelling to a girthy size that was as imposing as it was enticing. The heat was intense all around them, the deer bathing in his own sweat by then, feeling it down his fur, falling from him to the floor below. It hardly compared to the horse's soaked state, coated in perspiration as if it was infinite, steaming rising from his silken hide, or puffing from his nostrils. Cherno was hardly focused on that, his eyes caught by the mesmerizing sight of that horse cock fattening up, pulsing with growing arousal until it thumped against Vaul's underside. The horse spoke just one word to him, compelling but not forceful.

"Rise."

He did. Vaul gave a gesture with his head, tossing his mane in the process.

"Get behind me."

Cherno didn't hesitate to do as he told. Simply hearing the power in that voice, he knew he had to obey. He move slowly, cautiously, glancing to the devil's face, seeing that burning gaze gleaming back at him, neutral, stern. When he approached the thick backside of the horse, Vaul flicked his tail, giving Cherno a better glimpse of all he had. His attention flitted first to the truly potent set of balls on that horse. They were bigger than his head, faintly flexing as they bulged with their apparent engorgement, the skin perfectly smooth, reflective, dripping. Cherno felt his saliva flowing thicker than it ever had before. It would have been concerning in other circumstances, to be so suddenly drooling on himself like that. The musk was even stronger there. He could feel it radiating from that swollen horse dick as it flared out, stretching nearly to Vaul's hooves as he lingered there, gazing in admiration at that impossibly large set. The next word of command might as well have originated from inside his head, for how strongly he was already thinking it.

"Worship."

Of course he did. He felt a pull as if the devil had seized hold of his very soul, leaving him lunging forward, throwing himself to the attention of the great horse. He didn't need to kneel to lick him, and instead was standing up on the tips of his hooves, grasping at that shaft for support. He couldn't even get two hands around the base of it, but squeezed and stroked nonetheless, massaging at the ebon flesh while he buried his muzzle between those fat nuts. Their glossy texture was soon gliding over his face, making him whimper with blissful release. He needed this. He'd wanted this, all of it, so badly. One sniff of the devil horse's sack and he was sinking deeply into a state of musk-induced euphoria, letting that silken taste coat his tongue as he lashed it upwards, slurping as eagerly as he could muster. Every taste brought him deeper, leaving him rolling his eyes as if already in a state of orgasmic bliss, the sweat rolling down the horse's balls filling his mouth thickly enough he was swallowing it in throat-bulging gulps, and going back for more immediately after.

Time didn't have meaning to him anymore. He stayed there, smothering himself in the source of that mind-scorching musk, gorging himself on the pleasure of a scent beyond anything he'd ever experienced. What parts of him was still thinking knew he wouldn't be able to go back to ordinary men. The horse was all he wanted now. He licked his way from one corner of that sack to the other, massaging at the horse's cock until it was spurting upon his hooves. The heat was beyond overwhelming by then. It was actively dulling his senses, making his body feel like it was shutting down. But one thing that never dulled was his pleasure. Every lick was making his whole body throb as sparks of bliss flooded through him, pulsing to his tip, making him spray his pre with more force than he might have normally blown a load. He wanted more. He wanted to impress his new master. So down he went, crouching only slightly so he could elegantly glide his way down, using as much surface area of his tongue as he could to coat every vein, every ridge and detail of that undulating dick with his drool, bumping over the medial ring, slicking to the tip until he got his lips against it.

There was slight give to the shaft, even hard, and so he could get his muzzle under it, bending it a little for a kiss. That cockslit was bigger than his head entirely, but his antlers kept him from slipping inwards as he pushed his face inside. In an instant he felt the heat rise beyond levels he'd ever considered. Vaul's dick was an oven around him, clenching inwards to compress upon his nose and cheeks. It left him with a thick coating of precum, like a mask for the potency of the mess. He pulled back and simply made out with that perfect dick, indulging himself in its taste, inside and out. The flavour dancing over his tastebuds had him tapping his hooves against the floor, had him curling his spine with undulations of unrestrained bliss. He thought he might have cummed from musk alone, squelching, sopping, painting over his face until he could feel it in his skin, becoming part of him, a perfect, permanent mark. He hardly knew if he'd been worshipping for hours or mere minutes by that point, but he knew he didn't want to stop.

The only thing that could snap him out of his musk-drunk adoration was Vaul's voice. If not for the firmly spoken instructions, he might have carried on like that for hours. Or eternity.

"Beneath me, now. On your back."

Cherno didn't dare let his reluctance show. He might have been ready to debase himself and plead for just one more taste of the horse's balls, another sniff of his musk right from the source, but he didn't speak a word. Instead, he just withdrew, licking his lips as firmly as he could, savouring and preserving every last remnant of the intense flavour. Then he was down, stretching himself out, uncertain, but confident Vaul knew what was best for him. His hips jumped with every throb of his cock, his balls pulled taut to his body, as if he might cum if he even breathed too deeply. Beneath the horse, sweat was a constant downpour, streaming over his face, his features. And he was going to stay right there for a while, judging by the chains that manifested from the floor, springing into existence and shackling him by the wrists and ankles, pulling him upwards towards the horse's underside. It wasn't long in binding him before he was chained to the devil himself, nose shoved up hard against the horse's sack, Cherno's entire muzzle smothered to the point he was breathing nothing but pure hellish equine, the richest scent he'd ever sampled becoming the very air that sustained him.

Just because he was completely smothered didn't mean he was breathing any softer. He soaked and sampled in that that head-filling musk, letting it stick to his thoughts until it began to erode his identity itself. A fleeting thought had him realizing he couldn't properly recollect his name any longer, but he didn't panic. He'd found new purpose in sniffing the horse's balls, inhaling every drop of sweat that formed upon them, running down his throat as he drank of that tempting taste, letting his whole being become nothing more than a worshipper, an adorer of the Vaul's scent. He closed his eyes and shut off his mind, letting himself cease being Cherno, at least for a time, his nose, his lips, his tongue all working in sloppy unison to infuse himself with as much horse musk as it was possible for one body to hold, while the sweat poured free down his body, his cock still throbbing against the horse's belly. It was thicker, softer than before. The buck could feel the slight squish of added fat that came from digesting him the first time, but he gave it no further thought than grinding up against it, adding to the gleam of perspiration with his precum, smearing it with every squirming rub.

With his muzzle tucked firmly between two massive balls, his head near to vanished beneath their musky smother, Cherno was liberated from time itself. He drifted, savouring, living on the horse's heated scent, letting it be his life, his reason for existence as all other unnecessary functions shut off. He humped at the belly he had padded, feeling the faint rumbles through the layers. Maybe Vaul was still hungry. It wasn't up to the deer to consider the possibilities of the future. There was only that eternal moment, that sweltering session of devotion, but the buck breaking down to a single-minded state of reverence, adoring his new devil-god, becoming purified of other pursuits. That was how it felt at least, immersed and rewarded for his every breath and swallow with a flavour as intensely masculine as it was like concentrated pleasure running down his throat, and filling his nose and mind with ecstasy beyond mortal capacity.

All it took to break him from that holding state, from that sultry captivity, was a slight shift of movement. Cherno could have stayed down there for years, for all he cared. Maybe he already had. He had no sense of how long he'd been indulging in the horse's sack, but he was back to relative reality when he felt the change in stimulation. Vaul got his cock rubbing directly against the deer's body, rather than to one side, tracing a wet path down his chest, his muzzle, and finally settling upon his cock. A few firm grinds, a rutting frot that came with a buck of his bottom half, jiggling his balls, and Vaul was making that deer cum. He commanded it with his actions, with no need for words. Just a few slick strokes of monolithic horsecock and Cherno was finding the slightest trace of his lost voice, opening his muzzle wide to let out the smallest bleat while erupting like a fountain. All that simmering delight came bursting forth from him all at once, the buck's balls swollen as they clenched and throbbed against his body, tightening between his thighs before he finally unloaded. The pent-up pressure had him flowing like a shot, blasting over the horse's underside until he'd painted it completely white, a blank canvass of deer cum, all of it stolen and milked from him by the smallest touch.

Such an offering had Vaul snorting in satisfaction. A puffing grunt started as a typical equine sound, but was soon corrupted into something more sinister as the devil's voice came into it. An intimidating growl ripped through the throne room, rattling the skeletal decorations, cracking the very chains that kept Cherno affixed to the horse. He tumbled to the floor, splashing down in the cum and sweat that had accumulated beneath them, and a few steps of those hooves had him staring down the slit of a horsecock as broad as a cannon. It fired like one too, bulging, flaring, flexing, spreading open to let him gaze into the dark abyss within before it exploded in his face. His world went white, and he was slammed down flat to the floor by the force of the blasphemous cumshot, hosed down and stuck there as torrents covered him like a blanket, completely smothering him beneath the musk-tainted flood, burying him, immersing him, partly drowning him. He felt for a time as if he had simply burst into flames, that he was melting in the heat of all that horse cum, submerged in a sweltering flood of biblical proportions. He wasn't far off.

The weight kept him pinned, and he swore he could feel himself softening, liquefying from the heat. Part of him was. Most of his body remained intact, but his antlers couldn't hold up to the musk-packed assault of horse cum, for whatever reason. He was left to feel them trickling down his head, running into his hair, turning to little more than a further contribution to the cream all around him. Melted, transformed, it didn't matter. He just knew that they were gone by the time he finally managed to come gasping to the surface, plastered with gallons of cum, all pumped from a shaft that hadn't softened in the slightest. It took a while of wiping at his face to actually see again, but as soon as he could, his vision locked on the flexing, inviting flare of that scent-drenched spire. He didn't question what he was feeling. He merely obeyed his instincts, those urges burning inside him, urging him to move closer, to lean in, and press his muzzle against that oozing slit, meeting in a sloppy kiss, cum squelching between his lips as it dripped down his chest, hardly adding to the mess. Devil seed had become his second skin, encasing him, becoming part of him as it seeped into his every pore. It was only natural he wanted to become one with it.

There was nothing to block his progress anymore. When he pushed his muzzle forward, he slipped into the horse's shaft with ease, letting the clenching grip gloss over the top of his head where his antlers used to be. Vaul gave another puff, and then a firm thrust forth had him shoving Cherno's entire head inside his cock. It was easy. All he had to do was flex, and he was dragging that deer right up off his hooves, dangling his sopping body in the air, holding up with the pure strength of his dick. Sliding deep sounded like a slurping gulp, filling Cherno's ears with that schlurp and ominous ullp of consumption. Of course, he'd already heard it once. But submitting to a devil's appetite twice over did not seem like it boded well for his soul. Yet down he went, his slender form enveloped, his shoulders clamped together by the clenching massaging at him, claiming him, dragging him towards those bloated nuts so he could be fully devoted to them. Vaul's voice should have been muffled in such a position, but it came clear, as if spoken directly into his ear.

"Give yourself to me. Utterly. Join with my essence and be destroyed. I know this is what you need. Your true self awaits."

Cherno didn't question such a command, if it could be called such. He simply shivered and trembled with anticipation, rock-hard despite cumming more than his balls could even normally hold. His expression was crooked, dazed, broken, hair streaked across his face, stuck in place by the cum that clung to his ruined locks. A silly smile remained plastered on his face, partly concealed by the mess as he delved deeper towards cum-soaked doom, feasting on the inner scent of the devil's cock, feeling it enrapture him beyond coherence, until his body was wiggling not with excitement nor fear, but rather just with the inner giggle of a dumbly happy deer, broken to stupidity, breaking into maddened laughter by the time he dunked deep into the load of cum waiting for him in the horse's balls. He sloshed deep into those hanging shapes, sagging down, swelling them, his face pressed up against the side to be outlined by glossy, sweaty skin. The rest of him was a twitching mess, his hooves flailing about as his body became unresponsive, refusing to follow his commands, moving however it liked as he was devoured by the horse devil's dick.

He was beyond bleating by the time he was feeling Vaul's cockslit knead over his own shaft, unable to even cum again. He twitched plenty, his mouth opened a little wider, but all that served was to leave him gobbling cum, swallowing it down as he was dunked deep beneath the thick surface in the sloppy cream that awaited him. Another squeeze, and his thighs were getting clenched together, then his hooves were waving fruitlessly through the air before being sucked away. That slit sealed shut behind them, tightening back up as if never stretched in the slightest, leaving Cherno's curves outlined in the glossy skin of a fattened horse dick, pulled skintight around his form as he got tucked away. His weight sagged the devil's sack deeper, leaving it bulging with the deer pressing out against the sides, hands slipping on the surface of his new prison, his new home. Albeit a temporary one, if those ominous digestive gurgles were anything to go by.

Somehow Cherno knew what he was in for. His antlers had just been the start, and as the slopping, splurching, churning noise raised to a squelching chorus all around him. He raised his hand, only to feel it collapsing under its own weight, turned to thick goop before thinning out to become uniform with the cum around him. He felt that sack squeezing on him, clenching with crushing force, keeping the bulge of the devil's prey clear beneath the smooth skin of his nuts. Cherno was sinking, falling into an orgasmic high, guzzling cum as it seemed to almost burrow into him. It was all painless, the fright of his own destruction replaced by the mesmerizing pleasure of becoming part of something better. He was slipping down into the mess, getting churned and melted down to a nut-stuffing load of horse cum, joining with the devil's essence until he could only gurgle his last through a mouth and throat barely solid, the final traces of his features smoothed over by the silky cream, vanishing into the darkened depths of Vaul's fat sack.

There came that feeling again. He floated, only to fall. His mind never left him, what was left of it anyway. Where he expected death to come over him like a shroud, he instead found himself finding flesh again, tumbling into existence as if simply dropped, sprawling out upon the steps of the horse's inner sanctum. Vaul was there, watching him in silence, smoke slowly rising from his nostrils. Cherno felt a blush rise to his cheeks, discernible even in the heat. He'd been ready to do it, to give everything to the horse in those moments. If they had been his last, he would have been wiped from existence with a dumb smile on his face. Instead, what had been him, a previous him, or however it worked, sloshed heavy in those a pair of balls that seemed burdensome even for a horse of such power, such bulk. Vaul stood wide to accommodate them hanging there between his muscled thighs, giving a snort that might have been approval, or maybe just acknowledgement.

It took some time for Cherno to notice the changes. The first thing was his surroundings. They were the same, he simply understood them better then. They weren't incoherent beings of flesh and malice writhing in cages. They were gorgeous, lustful figures, arousing ways he couldn't previously comprehend. Their eyes flashed with depraved corruption, and yet he could see the way they were looking back at him when he stared, returning the gaze with expressions of excitement, of friendly welcoming. He felt at home. Where he was always supposed to be. The carnal acts around him hardly frightened anymore. He saw their bodies grinding together, locked in endless lust, pumping, pleasuring, pleasing one another in perfectly mutual pairings. All that had been a threat was now a sign of peace. It had taken being consumed by the horse twice over, but he finally felt as if he belonged. All it took was opening his mind. He turned his attention back to Vaul.

Nothing about the horse had changed, but he seemed less hostile then. His fangs were a pleasant smile, not a fearsome grin. His eyes glowed with warmth rather than malice. And his sweaty hide wasn't any less enticing. Cherno felt new strength as he leapt to his hooves, renewed, enhanced. His body thicker in places, curvier. His balls felt heavier and his cock had gone as black as the horse himself. A new tongue writhed between his teeth, flicking outwards farther than it had ever reached it before, and he lashed it about a few times, gleefully embracing his new form. Something burned within him, or perhaps it wriggled, something different and alive that compelled him to new desires, new lengths. A gift, unlike any other.

When he got close, he leapt up and just threw his arms around the horse's neck, dangling from him while he gave a hug of gratitude.

"Thank you for this," he told the devilish one.

Vaul gave a rub of his face against the buck's, but the subtle affection didn't last long. He spoke again, his voice as thunderous as ever, and yet beneath the intimidating power Cherno could sense a flirty playfulness, a trace of kindness he hadn't detected when he was still afraid of him. He had nothing to fear so long as he was the devil's plaything.

"We are not done."

It might have sounded threatening, or at least scolding if Cherno wasn't brimming with that sweet corruption, with that newfound freedom of sensation and power. Instead, it set him to a state of desperate need, clinging to the horse, hanging there like a necklace, his hooves far from the ground. He eventually slipped free, shaking with desire, throbbing, spurting on himself. There was no need for him to beg. His need was apparent enough in his actions, and in his whimpering voice. Vaul wasn't the sort to deny him what his body, what his soul desired most. He simply gestured with his head to a breeding mount just behind the buck, something that hadn't been there before, or at least he hadn't been able to notice.

The device was startlingly mundane in comparison to everything else that surrounded them. There was no hellish design, no spikes, no bleached bones. It didn't even scream when Cherno gleefully sprawled across it. His distrust was well-placed. It was most certainly a trap, of sorts, bindings springing from the ether to shackle him in place once he was properly stretched out across it. The chains pulled his legs apart, holding them taut, and it was the same for his arms. He was left in a helpless X as the horse walked towards him on hefty hooves, ever firm clip and clop echoing through the chamber, sending another shiver through the buck's body. The only thing he could control was his tail, and he flagged it high, not caring if he was inviting his own ruination. He welcomed destruction if it came at the girth of the devil horse dripping with delectable sweat, drenching his senses in musk like ambrosia by presence alone.

He was already bleating when Vaul mounted upon on him. Two straps dangled from above, somehow attached to the distant ceiling, or maybe to nothing at all. It was enough to keep the horse balanced, rearing up and holding that position. They were the only things keeping him from crashing down upon the deer, his weight more than enough to crush him. He was so small compared to the beast that he could have been crushed with something as casual as a nudge. One moment of lost control and he'd be flat beneath the horse's chest. It was even more obviously dangerous when he felt that cock dragging across his back, firmly spurting up between his shoulder blades, marking him up to the roots of his hair. He still didn't have his antlers back, but he could feel some sort of pressure, something like a tingle in his scalp. Maybe horns were about to take their place, once he'd been fully corrupted by the sinful pleasures of his flesh and soul.

Any horse was hung enough to ruin him, and Vaul was bigger than all of those. His throbbing length was a weapon, something better suited for demolishing a structure than fucking a slender deer. Yet Vaul pulled back, pumping in bestial motions, giving a snort and a more devilish growl as he lined himself up with that tight ring. Cherno knew he was never going to be the same once that horse had his brutal way with him. But he had already changed, had already embraced every depraved pleasure he'd been offered. What was a little more? His voice rang out, shrill yet deeper than it had ever been before, crying his infernal bliss as that flared cock began to grind upon his hole, thumping bluntly at first, then forcefully starting to spread him out, stretching him to such an extent he knew he ought to have reasonably broken by then. His body held out, supernaturally elastic, doing his very best to accommodate the devil's lust. He needed it. They both did, judging by the pulsing running through the horse's cock, his whole body flexing taut, his tail raising, and finally a neigh that built to a piercing scream that silenced hell itself for a time as he slipped forward with a juicy, gushing pop that sent fluids flinging in all directions.

Cherno half expected to simply die on that dick, for the way it was bulging into his backside, stretching his belly out with his massive flare. He was helpless to lessen its impact, simply enduring the feeling of it swelling out his gut, hugged tight by the skin. Somehow, he held on, even as the horse delved deep with a hot puff, smoke billowing from his mouth while the steam rose high towards the ceiling, creating a cloud of equine humidity. The musk danced across Cherno's senses, enhancing every little sensation, as if it needed to be any more intense. He was already getting pumped full of a cock half the size of his whole body. He felt it past his belly, reach his chest, even bulge up towards his throat. It stopped just short of going right through him, but he could still taste the musk washing up his throat, leaving him gurgling, gargling the taste of the horse devil's cock as Vaul took his position, letting Cherno's ruined insides adjust to the feeling of a penetration beyond the possible. His body was different then. He could handle it.

The first thrust was simply a matter of plunging to the hilt again, thumping those titanic balls against the buck's butt, their sloshing jiggle sending a tremor through Cherno's whole body. They were full, stuffed to brimming with melted deer, with everything he used to be. Mortal ambitions, fears, inhibitions. They were all churned up to a fat load of horse spunk, one simply served to make the devil harder, lusting for him as he pulled back again with a solid huff. The room was darker with every stroke, and the lunge, the plunge of bliss pulsed through Cherno's body until he could feel it in his teeth. He was being rattled, shaken by the rutting pump of the horse's power, all unleashed upon him at once. Those muscled haunches, thick with strength, were at full force. All that power just to fuck him, to breed him like a mare, to shake his body with destructive thrusts that tested felt like they might bring the whole chamber down. The only thing that worried Cherno was if hell itself was strong enough to endure the might of Vaul's lust, pounding into his stretched ass in slow, devastating strokes, building in power, in speed, flooding him with scent, leaving precum oozing from his mouth, even his nose, his body already overloaded before the cumshot came.

The best part was the sound of it. Cherno was silent, his voice fucked out of him, left to listen to the smacking jostle of cum-stretched nuts spanking his rump, of the steady puffs and growls that came from the devil horse. He sounded like a potent animal, a breeding stud hard at work, on one breath, only to remind of his true nature with a wicked snarl the next. All the might of a horse, and a devil, concentrated into one feral monster, one hell bent on demolishing his new pet, his plaything. Such words flowed through the buck's mind as he listened to that puffing rut, as he soaked in the sensations of getting fucked beyond stupid. But soon he couldn't consider the weight of them any longer, left dumb, numb as he tingled in such new ways, parts of his body once mundane exploding with joyful sin, with pleasure beyond understanding, his mind scrambled to the point he was hardly sentient. Just a drooling wreck soaking in the sweat of his new owner, the scent of equine musk the only thing that sustained him, that kept him from being fucked to death beneath the potent male pulverizing him.

He felt the twitching, the way one of Vaul's hind legs jostled for position, as if to rise right up on top of him. The growing orgasm was pleasing even a carnal beast like him. The buck was just that fuckable, satisfying the devil horse, his body serving as an adequate toy for his unholy lusts. Cherno was clenching too, reacting in strange, even frightening ways. They might have been death spasms for all he knew. This time for real. But he held on, letting a throb pass all the way down to his hooves, his whole body jolting with the flexing of that feral cock inside him. A stretching flare, a medial ring that flexed to the point of adding just that much more strain inside his swollen belly. Vaul's huffing grew faster, louder, a hurricane of heated breath flooding the chamber with smoke as his body rolled and flexed with ecstasy. The final roar of triumph was a sound to end all sounds, a bellow that asserted dominance not just over the deer, but over hell itself, announcing to every twisted denizen that he was about to claim the buck for his own.

The final flex sent Cherno spurting. He was cumming constantly, not just having one orgasm, but a continuous spiral of climax into climax, gushing as if to blast himself right off the breeding mount. He remained shackled in place, staked down by that feral dick inside him, the horse's balls snug against his butt, his balls, the back of his thighs as their wobbling ceased, pulling taut to pump forth the load he'd contributed to them with his hot and creamy demise. He was bloated in an instant, the first shot exploding from his mouth, swelling his belly to bursting, painting the scenery down in that intensely musk he so adored. More, and more, until he felt as if he were drowning. Yet there was no fear, no panic, simply bliss to be used by the wild devil, satisfying the horse's lust at least for a time. He was sloshing, pulling so taut as if to float away, yet somehow he kept from simply breaking. It would have been as easy as poking him with a pin when his belly was that round, smoothly bloated until Vaul pulled free, leaving him to gape and gush while he got hosed down in the remnants of that blasting essence, leaving him to vanish beneath the flood of cum as if erased from existence.

It lasted minutes. He wasn't sure where he was, who he was, or if he was for a while. Vaul stepped down from the mount and left Cherno to drip as the cum poured off of him in waves, a steaming waterfall that flowed through the cracks in the floor, until it was forming a puddle that spread across the expansive room. Cherno couldn't move a muscle, merely twitching, and it wasn't clear even to him for a while if he'd survived the ride. Sensation came back to his fingertips in time, spreading through the rest of his nerves until he could at least twitch again. He coughed some, gobs of cum bigger than an entire orgasm shooting from his mouth, cleared from his throat. It was hardly a rush. He felt as if he didn't need to breathe anymore, though he was quick to return to it just to ensure he was still sampling the musk that had become his religion. The mount melted beneath him, turning to black, gooey corruption that went splashing to the cum below as he splattered downwards, thinking himself finally defeated, broken, ruined forever. Until Vaul spoke.

"Up."

Up he went. Cherno had no idea how he had found the strength within him, but the horse's voice was compelling enough to let him forget all his limitations. He stood steady, attentive, and looked into the horse's eyes. For the first time, Vaul appeared to be smiling, slight as it may have been.

"You've done well, Cherno. I am enjoying you. How do you feel?"

The praise was aural ecstasy, enough to make him moan out loud. Cherno wanted nothing more than to come up with the perfect summary of everything he was going through, of just how happy he was to be broken, but instead, he just sputtered out a dumbly delighted sound that sounded something like a bleating lamb. He couldn't even manage a proper deer sound anymore.

"I understand. You will do well here, among us. But - you do need to understand your place. You are a thrall. A pet. And so, you will serve me."

Cherno could only eagerly nod, flapping his tongue about at the suggestion.

"A-anything you will ..." he managed to whimper, his excitement welling up in his chest until it was like fear.

"Up against the wall. Facing me."

Cherno looked for the nearest wall, and went trotting to it, even merrily skipping. He regretted it when he nearly smacked himself in the face with his own jostling belly. It had shrunken down plenty, but still remained rounded and engorged, loudly sloshing with its contents. He heard Vaul's hooves just behind him, and when he leaned against the wall and turned, he expected to be looking into the horse's face. Instead, he was presented with the broad, muscular rear end of the devilish horse. All that muscle, rounded out, sleek, shining, coated with sweat, it was the kind of sight to leave Cherno gasping. It only grew more enticing when Vaul flagged his tail and presented that thick, sweaty donut, dripping wet with the ever-flowing perspiration, backing right up into his face.

He didn't know how, but Cherno was up and off his hooves, hovering to accommodate the size of his master. Vaul simply walked backwards until the deer's muzzle was caught directly beneath his raised tail. The buck was smothered in a second, completely immersed in that fat pucker, letting it overtake his entire face. He knew what to do. Sucking the sweat from the skin, he inhaled the musk that bathed him, letting it overtake him once more, breaking him in seconds. His hooves dangled uselessly, the horse pushing back to smother him, the wall enduring as Cherno's soft body became cushioned between it and well-muscled horse ass. He huffed it deeply, inhaling all the scent he could take, letting himself be immersed in the clenching grip of that ring, even as it dragged him inwards. Not too much, not yet, but enough that he was stuck in place, left to do nothing but worship the horse's rear end, servicing him in the most humiliating of ways. Or one of them anyway. Surely Vaul could come up with more, and he wouldn't complain then either.

It wasn't until he felt that first tug that he knew how it was going to end. The cum still dripping from his fur meant he was thoroughly lubricated for another journey deep into the horse's body. The clenching force was impressive, squeezing on Cherno's head to the point of strain. He didn't think he'd break then, but he wouldn't have been too surprised either. A little deeper, and it was hotter, hotter still, musk still wafting into his senses, growing thicker, richer the deeper he went. A few more squeezes and his entire head had vanished beneath the silken hairs of Vaul's lifted tail. A flex, and the buck's whole body twitched, smacked up against the wall by the tension squeezing down on him. The compressing muscles felt as if they were swallowing, kneading inwards with the same force as a throat, surrounding him with the slick sound of wet flesh gliding past him as that thick ass overtook his shoulders. Then his chest, moving to the shape of his belly with ease.

The pressure was enough to ensure he was gushing from both ends, his mouth open wide as his muzzle burrowed into hot horse rump one clench at a time. His ass became a fountain, and either he was cumming some of it out, or just having another orgasm. It was hard to tell. For all the heat, for all the musk he'd experienced so far, this was the most intense. It was a wall of warmth, a blanket overtaking him and smothering out his senses as he was consumed, humiliated, dominated by the whims of the bulky beast. His belly was nearly flat by the time it slipped in to that clenching ring, the plump donut hole swallowing him up with relative haste, slurping down his thighs as it squeezed upon his cock. He was still spurting, still leaking, making a splattered mass of those powerful haunches, leaving Vaul's own cum dripping from his backside. He didn't let that slow him down, massaging Cherno inwards with those kneading muscles until there was nothing but a pair of hooves poking from his rear. A hard, intentional flex, and he tucked them away, slowly lowering his tail back down in place to cover up the soaking rim, letting the buck stretch out his belly, sagging downwards with his form.

The voice came rumbling through his senses, clear as it ever was, spoken as if directly into his mind.

"There are you. And there you will stay. Perhaps to be destroyed. Perhaps to simply dwell there, living on my scent, for as long as I wish. I will do as I please with you. Just like you always wanted."

Unlike the other prisons of musk and flesh, this one didn't instantly attack him. Cherno felt a gentle kneading, the muscles lightly working inwards on him as he remained stuck there in the horse's intestines. He wasn't being digested, absorbed, broken down in any way. He was simply a prisoner in the musk, richly assaulted by the scent in its most potent, unfiltered form. He could squirm a little, maybe shift the bulge of his body around some, where it rounded out Vaul's sagging, fattened gut. But he was going to stay there. There was no wriggling free, no escape until the devil horse willed it. His curves were outlined in the glossy skin of Vaul's underside, on display for all to see, that broken-minded horseslut, his shattered expression frozen on his face. He was only going to get dumber, numbed out by the constant waft of musk straight up his nose, by the taste upon his tongue when he couldn't help but lick at his fleshy surroundings, giving back the pleasure he took from his scent-drenched captivity, a little at a time.

He was only vaguely aware, but he could sense the movement. Vaul was trotting off, moving at his usual slow and deliberate pace, jostling Cherno up and down. The thought of digesting there, of being turned to fat upon the devil's body remained an enticing image in his mind, but he was going to have to wait. If such a moment ever came. Maybe he would stay there forever, a prisoner in the muscled ass of a massive horse, feeling every clench of pleasure, bouncing along with the motions of him fucking his other pets. His eyes rolled back and his jaws remained open wide, still dripping and drooling cum, the taste never leaving him. If this was to be his new existence, he would accept it. And if he was simply a captive until he'd been properly broken in. All he could do was wait, and let time melt from his mind as musk eroded everything, faint tingles of anticipation keeping him conscious, knowing that he belonged to a proper master now. He had never dreamt it could be like this, that he would end up in hell as a devil's carnal pet. But he wanted only to serve, to please, and to reap the sinful rewards that complete and utter devotion to a devil granted him. No matter what it meant for his eternal soul.