Malak has a terrible beauty, a vicious majesty. He stands as tall as two men and from his back sprout two fine wings of leather the span of which is thirty feet. His skin is positively reptilian, his eyes as well, and they burn with a fiery glow which betrays the beast within. On either end of his forehead sprout stout horns, as black as night. His hair is short and sharp like the bristles of a brush and his teeth as ragged and mortal as any shark’s. Still somehow he is indeed handsome, a terrible beauty, sharp features so like a man and yet so removed from humanity. I am he.

I command the plains of Hades, most notably Haraadat, the Great Plain, Plain of Tears. My corporals are Daemor and Amon, they have been with me since the beginning, given to me by our Master that I might rule and torment. We are his ensigns, in deed and nature, bringers of pain, woe and delight.

To these plains come those of humanity who have erred, and we instruct them so that they see the error of their ways. To Haraadat are sent those who would not control their flesh, namely that which resides between the legs. My pride and I humble them, a most distasteful humbling for they are humbled with their joy, their cunts, their cocks. I would not have it otherwise, for this I was born and I revel in my work.

A Humbling

The three of us watched as the new arrival pleasured himself, oblivious to any surveillance. Although his appearance was typical for a European male his age, the genitals, particularly when aroused were always beautiful. There were so many uses for them, one could engage in congress with them, devour them, torture them. The possibilities were really endless, humans are so attached to their genitals, both male and female treasure them so.

We argued for a while about what should be done with him. Amon of course wanted to eat the creature’s penis, something we could all appreciate as the delicious smell of it filled the plain, causing us all to salivate a little, with the exception of Amon who was slobbering all about like a ravenous dog.

The man would ejaculate soon, I could see the clear, sticky fluid oozing from the cleft in his sweet glands so that even I desired to chew the thing to a pulp. At this point Daemor and I found it necessary to restrain Amon who had scrambled to the top of the dune behind which we secreted ourselves and in this we proved successful before the man got a glimpse of our horrid companion.

After some discussion it was decided we’d best do our job as the Master would at the very least take our phalluses should we fail in our duties.

I looked into the creature’s mind while he pumped the white human seed from his short stalk and saw his desire there. "He imagines a plumpling," I announced, and shared the image with Amon and Daemor, both of whom became as erect as I when they saw Brinson’s desire. Yes, that was his name, "Brinson" we knew him well now, better than anyone above had ever known him, it was one of our gifts.

At that, Daemor found he could not control himself and began sodomising Amon who seemed all too grateful for the favour. I attempted to maintain composure as the two of them rutted, but the sight of the human squeezing the last of his seed from the ripe glands and the concluding scenes he broadcast all over Hades were too much for me and I presented my own huge organ for Amon to taste whilst Daemor sated himself within a tight anus. Only after we had all released our dark seed were our heads clear enough to proceed.

"Let us fashion a plumpling for him, the one from his imagination!" Daemor suggested, and an excellent suggestion it was too. So Amon and I followed Daemor some distance away to where a fissure split the skin of hell and looked down below as the streamers ebbed and flowed in and out of every crack and channel. Daemor reached down deep, drawing up a measure of the stuff rolling it about in his palms. From near our feet he took then clay and using his arcane skills began to fashion the mass with both will and hands. Soon there lay a vaguely human shape upon the ground, glowing and undulating. After a time this passed as thing appeared to cool taking on the appearance of a fresh, lifeless corpse. Daemor then grinned an excellent grin (he was known for his grin) in my direction before reaching down and touching the body directly between its large breasts. He was indeed a virtuoso, the husk was the very image of the human’s lust. Daemor lingered a bit until the body convulsed, drawing its first ragged breath. Several more seizures followed until the thing finally settled into a coma, its breath now coming as regular as its heartbeat.

It was now my turn to contribute, and into its vacant brain I projected a likely assemblage harvested from Brinson’s mind. His ideals of femininity, his impressions of earthly females he had enjoined with and some of his own ingrams for that uniquely human effect which is so hard to synthesize. But still, the thing had no soul, no real life of its own a fact which necessitated that I project my own will, my own vigor through it, and so I did. At that the thing sprung to life, well, an excellent imitation of life at any rate. We were such artists, all of us, even Amon!

It bolted upright, coughing, we noticed that so often humans found the air of hades to be rather dry and unpleasant, which was as it should be. We always enjoyed their discomfort being so perfectly adapted to the environs as we were and couldn’t help laughing.

The girl was fully conscious now, and looked all about, suddenly becoming aware of our handsome assembly all at once and instantly began screaming as loud as her freshly formed little voice box would allow. I quickly put an end to that, suppressing certain elements of her mental function.

We stepped back a moment to admire our handiwork while the golum stared blankly at each of us, her eyes following our every move, utterly silent as I had made her. She was such a pleasant thing, pale and plump, large breasts and rear. Not very tall; apparently Brinson liked his females nearer the ground, probably because he was somewhat near the ground himself. A good thicket between the thighs, long and black. The mane which flowed down so gracefully from her head was raven as well, her lips a dark red, her eyes light blue. The very contrast between the human female and our own made them wonderfully appealing and I could not resist taking even this artificial form from the rear, impaling its anus with my substantial organ.

Wishing to maximize my pleasure I allowed the baser desires I had instilled in this coinage of our imagination to emerge whilst making sure she remained largely unaware of her surroundings. When I allowed the hunger to flow, she responded straightaway, and moaned, grasping my haunches as I slowly slid my massive penis in and out of her rectum. Soon she was rotating her bottom about against me in the most maddening fashion and I felt my organ surge to a new thickness directly before filling her bottom with my obsidian seed.

"Enough of this! Let us take her to Brinson!" exclaimed Daemor. We knew he was correct and after Amon had cleaned our creation of my semen with his tongue, we proceeded to deliver her to the human anon.

By the time we arrived the man was already erect once again and fondling his penis and for a moment I saw the look of horror on his face as he watched my companions and I descend from the sky, wings unfurled and eyes ablaze with purpose. My foot dug into the warm earth as I landed, allowing me to spring forward so that I was almost upon him. Bringing my face within an inch of his own I stared deeply into his eyes and blinded him to our nature. Having thus secured the situation I allowed my extension to function fully now as far Brinson was concerned, blocking only her awareness of my pride.

It was the easiest of things to manipulate the man under these conditions, our creation could do nothing less than arouse his deepest desires, her "mind" being only a reflection of his own. They met face to face now, and she stared into his eyes, seemingly full of passion. "In my mouth..." she said beginning in mid-sentence. Brinson started to answer but saw there was no need as the girl was already on her knees with the head of his penis well within the velveteen recesses of her hot, wet mouth. Soon she was sucking and slurping away at his ever growing member.

I found myself fully erect again as I tasted his penis with her tongue and savoured the feel of it in our mouth. I reached down to play with our wonderful cunt, being sure to pay careful attention to the swollen clitoris. I felt it lubricating from deep inside and the contractions as I sucked him further down my throat.

My true form rested in the soil of Hades while I allowed myself this luxury of possession. I worked his shaft with the skill my centuries of life afforded me, being sure to give him the utmost pleasure while always denying the climax. Before long he was taking me from behind as I done earlier, only Brinson preferred her vagina to her anus. Sometimes there is no accounting for taste. He was about orgasm now, and I was forced to wrench the girl’s body away from him, as well as removing my consciousness to the extent that I was aware of my own form once again.

I withdrew her then from beneath him and bade him stop for a moment. "You can’t come," she whispered softly into Brinson’s ear. "Not here, not ever. When you shot a while ago, after your arrival, that was your last orgasm....ever." I made her coo. It was evident even to human eyes Brinson did not believe her, and bade her suck him once again, this time with a verbal command. Within the minute he was fit to squirt his seed once again when I caused her to squeeze his testicles with great force, bringing a rapid end to his designs.

Now he was clearly angry and struck her full on the cheek and I responded by transmitting the sensation that he had been clipped in the stones. Somehow he instinctively understood the cause and effect relationship between the two and caressed me on the cheek. I rewarded him by masturbating him for a few minutes until he was once again near orgasm. "You can’t come," she told him "Don’t come," and the like over and over again. I could feel his anguish and decided that it was time to allow his perception of us at long last.

Amon trotted over to him directly and offered our terms. Brinson was completely terrified of him, but it was little matter, the terms were the thing.

"Relief is by giving us what you treasure most!" hissed Amon, pointing at Brinson’s throbbing penis.

He seemed to give quite a bit of thought to this proposition, which amused me, since he would suffer in either case. In the end, he decided to forfeit his manhood, supposedly in exchange for being allowed to sulk away and remain unmolested for a time. We would never allow him respite for any length of time of course, but for the moment the illusion served us well, and we gave every indication that he would indeed be free of us, assuming he paid the requisite price.

When he at last gave verbal consent Amon’s eyes danced and his wings unfurled, he wasted no time in lowering himself to the ground while Daemor and I pulled Brinson’s plump, pale toy kicking and screaming into the dark. Although he was plainly terrified, not enough time had passed for Brinson’s erection to fade so that his trembling legs and wide eyes beautifully complemented the ruddy violet tinged member he clenched by its base, as ready to feed it to Amon as he had been for the plump girl to consume it earlier.

The guttural sounds of lust and hunger gurgled up from Amon’s throat and copious threads of saliva fell from his bestial jaw as he eyed the human’s turgid member just an inch from his maw. Brinson shook violently now with fear and tried to brace himself for the amputation. Our laughter resonated from the dark along with the shrieks of Brinson’s recent lover because we knew Amon had never made a clean kill in his centuries of life. True to from, our brother did not disappoint us now, and rather than snip the man’s phallus neatly from his body with powerful demon incisors as sharp as any surgeon’s blade, Amon chewed and ate the poor man’s penis right off his person as was his nature. Brinson screamed like a woman raped and tried almost immediately to flee, but Amon reached about him with his very long, rough and scaley limbs holding the human in place with hydraulic force, his huge hands nearly crushing the mortals buttocks as he savagely devoured Brinson’s penis down to the root.

All the while the scene unfolded the pumpling we had manufactured managed to progressively work herself into a state of hysteria and now began wailing at the top her lungs. It was most irritating after a minute or two and so Daemor and I dispersed her back into the lump of plasma from which he had fashioned her, and that we returned to the earth of hades.

I flew through the sultry air as fast any machine of man, riding the updrafts fueled by the heat emanating from one of the many sores which erupted upon the skin of hell. My eyes scanned the infernal planes for a mate until at long last I saw her galloping in a wide expanse just to the south of Haraadat. I descended then upon my victim like a beast of prey. She howled in agony as my claws seized her torso, digging as they were into two ripe teats that lay nestled on her underbelly amongst ten of its sisters. Feeling desire fully now, my wings rose upright in the air since she now bore my full weight and whilst my massive stones hung behind me I plunged my equine tool deep within her, prompting another prolonged yowl when I buried it to the hilt within her steamy quim. I remained this way for some minutes in congress with her until my stones gushed forth their black seed, a little of which escaped the confines of the ebony lips of her sex, unable as it was to contain the full force of me. Then, I tore myself from her lest a moment of tenderness ensue when I was weak and bolted back into the crimson sky, my male parts justified once more. Perhaps I would be allowed to keep them yet another season, if so the next would be my fifth century as a breeding male if I were to reckon the passing of time as men do.

Over the next few months the she-beast’s belly swelled full of our swarm. Hardening when the time was right, it split like an egg and the younglings within swarmed out. Their heritage was evidenced well as they spread over her like an infection, devouring all of her warm, dying flesh and drinking her blood lest it touch the ground and dishonour them by their sloth.

They are horrid little things possessed of flaming eyes, scaled skin and fine leathery wings. They are the sons of their father in every sense. I feel them even now as they are acutely aware of me in turn. I see them hunt over the ruddy plains, feel their exhilaration as they ride the updrafts spilling into the air from the volcanos of Haraadat. But there are daughters of their mother as well, majestic black beasts who go about on all fours. I see the horrid splendor, the red plain, the fire and the winged sons above. Searing air rushes by our sensitive ears and undulates through our silken mane. This is our eternity and our paradise.