A Heaven on Earth
#4 of Hell Comes to Earth Collection
Heaven. One man's Heaven could very well be another man's Hell.
I pondered that thought as I felt the babies kicking inside my belly. For them, perhaps, this was Hell. I had taken them as my victims--those of lacking conviction--to be my own young, my spawn.
For them, Heaven had become hollow, meaningless. Unable to accept one another's individuality, Heaven fell--a brittle, empty shell of ideology and art.
But for me, Heaven had grown and flown like a sea of fire, with a life of its own. To the eye of the common man, this was Hell; firey Inferno.
I layed on my back--there was still pain in this world. Pain to let me continue living, to aspire me to great things--to ward me away from injury.
And there was the pain of birth. A curse, perhaps--I did not know--but that was how they often referred to it, Biblically. As my bones shifted, and my muscles stretched and altered, and as I lay helplessly there, eight floppy breasts bursting with milk, I endured the contractions, and felt the child clamoring for the warmth of my womb, as it was helplessly pushed down into my birth canal.
My legs shifted, pelvis, ankles, and knees twisting and melting, and reforming to quadrupedal, canine shape.
I could still hear each of them protesting, as their bodies were fed from my own life's blood--changing them from human babes into all manner of creatures within my womb. Even as this one was pushed into his new life, he resisted--tried not to be what he had become.
I had wanted to be a mother, and admired countless shapes and forms of creatures, in my human life--both real and fantastical. So despite its oddity--this was part of my Heaven--something I'd never been able to delight in, as a man.
Could a man ever have a right to delight, in the pain of childbirth? Was that a slap in the face of women, and what they must endure? Truthfully, I did not care. In Hell, I was past the empathies expected of humans. I did not care, and did not feel guilty.
I just wanted to make more of 'them'. Every shape and size, of any gender imaginable. This one, in particular, was a male--so it was simple enough to imagine what he might have been thinking, as he stretched phallicly from my vulva, steam rolling from my broken water.
My six, silky scarlet tails rose to greet and blanket him, and to dry his serpentine form. He was a dragon, of fur and scales--gold and green, and with the face of a fox. Looking at his slitted vulpine eyes, on his horny head, I saw the permanence of his change. There was still the same soul, that wanted to be a human being. But he realized his fate, melancholicly now, and drew about my body in embrace. I felt his hemiphenes, slickly slide up my back, extended, as I got to my feet and stood upon all fours. He rested there, body coiled about mine gently, and nursed from my milk from time to time.
He had inherited my lust, and had become a beast. A demon. I knew not whether he would remain with me, or move on once his nursing was complete--nor did I know when it would be time for him to leave.
I just knew--this was my child... and I had to have more.
His suckling drew the pain out of my firm teats, as I explored this new, quadrupedal stance. The change had cemented, and I felt more like an animal than ever. Was this permanent, I wondered? I had enjoyed the form of the bestial diva from hours back--but had become more beastly than ever, now. I lolled my forked tongue, doggishly, in the equivalent of a human woman's sweating, as I shook off the fever of my exertions.
I took a step forward on one foreleg, and promptly stopped. The weight of my body had redistributed, and I was uncomfortable with this new manner of walking. On top of which, my child continued to weigh upon me with his coils, begging for attention with flicks of his tail against my cock.
It was an organ I had overlooked for the last few days, as I experimented with my newfound gifts. How had I forgotten the needy itch, the firm, tender excitement of rubbing it against my palms? It was a canid organ now--tender, slick, and red. I could not service myself--I realized--and had pushed thoughts of its arousal back in favor of my female genitalia.
But my son's coils slipped about it now, erect from its sheathe--and I sighed, and fell to my side complacently. Amidst cool scales, the occasional tuft of soft fur rubbed my slick shaft, and brought me long lost pleasure. I willfully held my cock taught with vulpine muscles, delighting in the ability to get erect at will, from my silken sheathe, instead of carrying a flaccid piece of meat that took its own initiative in making me aroused when it was inconvenient.
No, in Hell, there was never a bad time to get horny, if you were a monster. There were creatures that might try to devour or tempt, but few that crossed Satan's favored, like me. Most chose the profligates, who were weak willed. It seemed that ideology ruled this new Earth, in a strange and physical way--and those of weak will were easily bent, changed, transformed into demons of our ilk.
I chose to let the pleasuring continue, despite any risk to our prone naked forms. My child wrapped beneath me with surprising strength, embracing his new drives. While I was not ideally equipped, he nonetheless shoved his hemiphenes within my toothy maw of a vagina, and squirted it full of sticky gunk and seed. The rest of his tail, he let drift between my legs, flicking my exposed anus. I tensed as he plunged it within me, my male and female parts exploding with delight, as the firmness in my bowels pressed against erotically sensitive nerves.
And at last, he plunged upon my bulging, knotting cock with his jaws, lapping with a thick canine tongue, and drooling copiously.
I rolled about helplessly as he assaulted me from every angle, coils rushing and wrapping, his form everywhere, limitless in its reach as he spewed semen into my thirsty womb, and pumped in and out of me with the tip of his tail. My cock bulged, practically the length of your arm, pointed up into his face. The tight knot, shaped like a figure eight impaled on its side, grew steadily to the size of softballs, in an outside tie.
And finally, he kissed the spigot of my penis, the tiny rounded spout atop my sleek, ovular head.... and I exploded, gushing yellow spunk into my child's face, and over both of us.
I felt the gunk in my ears, in my golden curls of woman's hair, on my belly covered in foxy teats. It stuck to my tails, warm and gooey, and satifying.
I sighed and panted, feeling my heart, feeling the pounding of blood in my head.
And then he climaxed within me in one great burst of his own, sending me reeling with one final surprise orgasm, from my female parts, which gently chewed with their teeth, against his scales, as hot, strange liquid pounded against my clitoris, and down into my canal.
Within me, the babies who were still in Hell changed, morphing, shifting, screaming--
--at my Heaven.