Escape From Irongaol

Again Tavor tested the shackles that bound him, easing the bone he'd managed to grab with his toe into the lock. For the first time since he'd been thrown into the dungeon, he was actually glad that they'd taken his leather boots and socks. Less delighted that they'd taken the rest of his Ranger gear, leaving him in nothing but his pants. But that the demons had merely stripped him was something of a relief. There were many tales of the devils, and none of them good.

A yawn had him freeze, look furtively through the curling metal that served as the bars of his cell. Just beyond, slumped in a wooden chair, the guard Zaara mumbled to herself, shifting. Curling ram horns poked free of loose white hair, as thick and downy as wool. More of it poofed around her neck like a collar, necessitating her guard jacket to hang open. This had the side effect of not so subtly showing off the plump orbs of her breasts, which threatened to pop out of her tight uniform with every breath.

He'd been lucky to have been assigned a sloth demon as his guard. Tavor held his breath, watching as the somnolent demon shifted, nuzzling her neck wool as it cushioned her against the back of her chair. The demoness was the only soft thing in the prison. The walls were of black steel furling with effigies of flames. Torches of black and red hissed in their brackets, sending shadows fluttering about the many sharp edges that framed doors and jutted from bands around pillars and the walls.

For this was Irongaol, jail of the demon hordes who had invaded his world. For a time he'd thought the place mere rumours, but that had been put to rest after the ambush, when he and his fellow hunters had been taken in the snow-swept woods, seized by claws and borne away through the screaming winds and to the black tower rising out of the frozen landscape, the interior ever hot despite the biting northern cold.

He didn't know if his fellow Rangers had survived. He doubted it. The screams and moans that rang through the prison every day did not speak encouragingly of their safety. But Tavor knew more, as a hunter. That their fates were probably far worse than mere death. Demons found the souls of mortals the most intoxicating of meals. In fact, after they'd supped on mortal essence was the best time to try and slay the creatures with blessed steel. So the true purpose of the prison was not merely to jail their victims, but to give the demons a place where they could comfortably feast, sucking men and women dry until they were naught but mortal husks, enthralled by their devilish queens and lost forever.

A fate he would, inevitably, share.

Unless he got free.

Once he was sure Zaara hadn't awoken, he got back to work. He would not fall to thralldom here. Better a clean death than an eternity waiting on some demonic trollop as a lovesick slave.

He heard a click and for a moment dared not believe, but when the shackle opened and his hand slid free, he knew hope for the first time. Without delay he got to work on the sister lock, and blessed gods, it gave as well.

Tavor straightened, wringing his wrists of the pain of his bindings. He looked furtively at the sleeping succubus, but she did not stir, merely smiling dumbly at some pleasant dream, giggling so her breasts bounced in her tight top.

With care Tavor approached the bars of his cell and fit the bone into the lock. He tested it carefully, and then, with a click, it gave way. His heart leaped as he eased the door open with nary a creak. He stepped over the divider, creeping towards the jail door.

"Hmm? Whassat?"

Tavor froze, looking back as Zaara sat up, sleepily rubbing her glowing eyes and blinking at him. He tensed to attack, but knew it was futile. Without blessed steel, he could not slay the creature before him. And soft though she seemed, she hid power that could easily overwhelm him.

And then, suddenly, he had an idea.

Zaara blinked, her eyes clearing as she beheld him. She frowned, pouting like a child. "Heeeey," she said, standing. "What are you doing there?"

"Uh, escaping?" Tavor hazarded.

For a moment she just stared at him. Then she giggled, which again made her chest wobble enticingly. "Aw. That's so silly! No mortal has ever escaped Irongaol. It's suuuuper secure."

"Yes, I know," Tavor said. "But I have to try."

"Naaaah. You can just wait your turn for a pretty demon girl to have you," Zaara said, grabbing her guard stave from where it leaned against the wall, the collar that tipped it clacking like a claw.

"Like you?"

Zaara rolled her eyes. "Geeze!" she said. "You must think I'm just... like... suuuper dumb. Guards aren't allowed to eat their prisoner's essence."

"But I'm escaping."

"So?"

"So I'm not your prisoner if I'm escaping."

Zaara opened her mouth, then slowly closed it. She pursed her plump, kissable lips, tilting her head as if to knock out an idea.

"Mmm... What do you mean?"

"Like you said," Tavor said. "No mortal has ever escaped Irongaol. So, if you let me go, what are the odds I'll succeed? I'm sure to be caught eventually. Why not let me try?"

"Um..." Zaara said.

"And if you do," Tavor said, reaching down and rubbing his bulge, "I'd be very... grateful..."

Zaara's eyes widened a little, showing she was quick on some things. And though it went against every lesson he'd been taught as a Ranger to offer even a drop of his soul, he knew it was the one card he could play. Besides, no succubus could drink an entire soul in a single go. Even a taste made them drunk and dazed, meaning it was his best, and only, chance.

"Mmmm. I dunno," Zaara said, but he could see her practically drooling over his bulge. "I could get in biiiiiig trouble..."

"But think how much fun it would be," he said coaxingly. "And wouldn't it be worth it? How long has it been since you supped on mortal essence."

Zaara's tongue slid along her lips, making them glisten and shine. Her breathing had notably deepened, her chest rising and falling heavily. She looked uncertainly past his shoulder at the door, then giggled.

"Aw heck!" she said, putting aside her stave. "Why not? Show me that dick, big boy!"

Tavor tried not to be too excited with her agreement. He opened up the front of his pants, drawing out his cock. He was already hard, which was hardly surprising. Though the creature before him was a monster in every way, she was designed to be as appealing as possible to mortal men. And she certainly succeeded in that aim. "Get down on your knees," he said.

"'Kay!" she said, immediately dropping to her knees before him, looking up at him as expectant as a puppy.

Her sudden obedience was difficult for him to swallow, given she was the guard and he her supposed prisoner. But demons were hard to understand at the best of time, so better not to even bother trying to figure it out.

And it felt oddly good to be in charge again. To have such an enticing creature seemingly so obedient. He knew it was little more than a game to her, but he couldn't help but feel a certain sense of superiority once more.

"Good girl," he said as he moved towards her. "For that, you can... can get a taste of my cock."

Her eyes glowed as he came near, all her attention completely riveted upon his bobbing manhood. She was drooling now, her lips parted, panting.

"Mmmm," she cooed, reaching out, her fingers touching his shaft adoringly. "Thank you, master," she said.

Tavor tried to suppress a gasp as her fingers caressed his cock, and nearly succeeded. Her touch sent shocks of pure delight crackling up his manhood, tingling in his root and throbbing in his shaft.

"Ooooooh, so big," Zaara moaned, inhaling the scent of his manhood, her eyes lidded, her fingers running up and down his shaft, adoring him. Her mouth opened, warmth washing over his shaft as she ran her tongue along the underside, licking up towards his tip.

"F-fuuuuck!" he gasped, body tensing at the sheer ecstasy that throbbed through him, very nearly sending him to his knees right there.

"Can I reeeeeally taste it?" she said teasingly, again running her tongue along his shaft. "Can I reeeeeeallly have a drink?"

"Y-yeah," he gasped, panting quick and heavy. "G-go for it."

"Mmmm. Thank you," Zaara giggled, angling his cock down towards her mouth. Her lips parted, again the heat of her breath washing over his tip, and with an adoring moan, she took half his cock into her mouth.

"Oh f-fuuuuck!" Tavor groaned as those sinfully soft lips began to slide lovingly up and down his cock. And yet, as tremendous as his pleasure was, it seemed paltry compared to hers.

"Mmmm!" Zaara moaned, her eyes practically rolling back as her head bobbed, lips pumping up and down his manhood, coating it in her saliva, her breasts bouncing beneath her as she sucked him off.

Tavor gasped, grabbing her horns for some stability, only to start ruthlessly fucking her heavenly mouth, unable to suppress the desperate pleasure that pounded through him with every slide of her soft lips.

"Fuck!" Tavor groaned. "Oh fuck yes! Take it! Take my ffffffucking cock you demonic slut! Ah... Ah! Fuck yes! Yes! Suck it! Suck me o-off! Oh fuck... Oh g-gods yes! Yes! Suck my dick you horny... fucking... m-monsterrrrr!"

Tavor cried out, hilting his shaft in her a final time, his orgasm like an explosion surging through him. His cock throbbed, bucked, unloading the heaviness of his seed into the sloth demon's hungry mouth.

"Mmmm!" Zaara groaned, her lashes fluttering, an expression of purest ecstasy on her lovely face as his cum pumped into her. Her cheeks plumped like a chipmunk's as her throat worked, savouring and swallowing his load, a glow suffusing her skin as weakness ached through Tavor, strength and vitality drawn from him and his spurting seed.

Gasping, staggering, Tavor managed to slide his cock from Zaara's unresisting lips. Moaning, flushed as if drunk, the demonic jailor fell back onto the floor of the cell, her hands stroking herself in ecstasy, a blissful smile on her vacant face.

"Ohhhh yeaaaaaaah," the sloth demon moaned, clutching her own breasts through her uniform. "That's... mmm... the goooood stuff..."

Tavor leaned against the wall, a hand to his chest to calm his pounding heart. He could feel himself recover slowly from that orgasmic high, but not entirely. His chest tightened with fear as he felt the weakness that assailed him not quite fade. Lingering as if some vital part of him had been sucked away by the succubi's mouth.

And yet, looking on the demoness on the floor, her ample tits wobbling, her face radiant with drunken bliss, he could barely tear himself away from her. Barely suppress the urge to kneel between her thighs and pound away until she came, moaning, giving him another glimpse of that heavenly high.

"I... I have to... B-bye," he gasped, not even sure why he bothered.

"Mmmm..." Zaara cooed, giggling to herself, utterly ignorant to him as Tavor stumbled to the door of the cell, heaving the heavy iron open, peeking out to ensure there were no others in the hall before he staggered out and deeper into Irongaol.

---

Irongaol was more than a prison. The tower plunged deep into the earth, a gateway into the infernal realms that lurked below. Above it spired like a dark pillar into the mortal world, the interior hollow, the vast open space filled with dangling chains and swaying cages, the walls surrounded with wide balconies in which chambers and cells opened up.

Tavor crept along one of these landings, his back pressed to the wall. He still felt weak from the pleasure of the sloth demon's torrid kiss. In time, he would recover fully, although he doubted he'd ever forget the feel of those lips. His cock certainly hadn't. It bulged against his trousers, refusing to soften, as hard as the dark iron against which his back was pressed.

The scent of sulfur, iron and perfume filled his lungs with every breath. Thick and potent. Sin and pleasure infesting the very air itself. The screams and moans were loader now. He chanced a look up at the towering heights of the prison, its reaches lost to view, winged creatures wheeling high above, and he doubted they were birds.

Down. He had to go down.

He swallowed, making his way towards a staircase framed by dark iron like a yawning demonic mouth. Though instinct demanded otherwise, he knew his only hope in finding a gate opening up onto the mortal realm was down. There might be steeds or supplies he could steal and escape into the country. Once clear of Irongaol, he could make his way back to familiar grounds. He was confident his woodcraft would enable him to elude any pursuit. But first, he had to escape the tower. He glanced down the steps but saw no one, so dared the stairs, the sound of his slapping feet echoing in his ears.

He reached the next floor, hurrying on. Twice he had to duck behind a pillar of jagged black metal like petrified flames as guards tromped past, as devastatingly lovely as Zaara. But these were demons of wrath, their amazonian figures naked but for some spiked pauldrons and girdles, tails of barbs waving behind them and whips of thorns belted to their sides.

He had nearly reached the stairs to the third level when he heard the echoing stride of more guards ascending. Tavor drew back, looking frantically, but no hiding space presented itself. A door provided his sole option, and though reluctant, he had to chance it. Grabbing the handle, he pulled it open, nearly staggering at the sudden rush of scents. The warm aroma of fresh baking, the sweetness of sugars and the sizzling temptation of roasting meat made his mouth water. So stunned at the olfactory assault, he almost forgot about the approaching guards until their steps thudded almost at the top. In a desperate burst of speed he rushed into the room, dragging the door shut behind him, just managing to slam it shut as the tips of the guard's horns came into view.

Tavor panted, leaning against the door, his arms trembling at the exertion and fear.

Yet not even his terror could overpower the scent which filled the room. He inhaled, shuddering as he was filled anew with the sweet aroma of the cooking. He turned his head slowly.

He was in a kitchen of such dimensions it beggared belief. Huge ovens filled the walls, belching flames and a golden glow. Hunks of meat dangled from ceiling hooks, dripping blood into gutters on the floor. Tables fairly groaned under the spread of dishes running along their lengths, the radiance of candles glistening off pheasants roasted a golden brown. Candied nuts flashed like precious jewels. Cakes littered the table with chocolate so dark it seemed to suck in the light. Steam rose off seared beef, coiling in the air like clouds.

Tavor realized his mouth was watering and hastily wiped it on his arm. He... he couldn't linger too long. He had to... had to go. But were the guards gone? He pressed his ear to the door, trying to listen.

But he heard a different door open.

His head whipped about, heart flying in his throat as a metal door halfway down the kitchen was knocked open by a wide hip. A succubus utterly made of curves swayed inside, nothing but an apron hiding flesh blue as fresh picked blueberry, and doing a poor job of that. Her breasts utterly swelled from her chest in plump, heavy orbs. Her face was soft with the dimples of smiles. A pair of nubby horns like candy corn poked up from poofy purple hair.

A demon of gluttony.

She hefted a platter towering with a massive cake which she carried with shocking ease. But when she spotted Tavor a look of surprise painted her fetching features. "Oh!" she gasped, then beamed. "Well well! What have we here?"

Tavor stiffened, clutching the door behind him. Dare he chance the corridor?

"Finally!" the blue succubus puffed, sliding her platter onto a counter. "It's about time the warden showed me some appreciation. Pit knows she enjoys my cooking. Finally, I get myself a treat!"

"I..." Tavor stammered.

"Well, don't just stand there," the blue demoness gushed, swaying towards him, her wide hips swinging almost hypnotically. "You're my reward, ain'tcha? My prize for the last feast? I'd almost started to think the warden had plum forgot about it."

Tavor's mind finally caught up to her words. His legs felt like water as relief poured through him. She thought he was a slave! A prize! He had a chance.

"Y-yes. Mistress," he said, quickly ducking in a bow, his guts tightening in shame at the ruse of servitude to a monster such as her. "I am."

"Call me Luxxa, honey," the gluttony demon giggled, coming to a halt before him, touching his chin and lifting him up to look into her beaming face. "Mmm. And you are a cute one! Usually by the time they get to me, I have to fatten them up a bit before they can even get that dick up. But you look nice and lively."

"I uh..."

"Still! No sense not giving a sweet thing like you a bit of a treat neither, huh?" Luxxa said with a wink.

Tavor wondered what she meant. Then he saw her hands rise and lift off her apron. His jaw almost fell at the sight of the enormous blue breasts that bounced atop her chest. Zaara had been bustier than any woman Tavor had seen before, but Luxxa put even that gorgeous demoness to shame. Her breasts were bigger than his head and seemed destined to topple the plump succubus, were it not for the equal ampleness of her rear. Before Tavor's stunned eyes, she eased back onto the edge of the table, parting her thighs to reveal the pink gash of her pussy.

"Mmmm. There we go. Been on my feet aaaaall day, honey. And I'm feelin' it. Oof!" she said, cupping her breasts. "Look at these darlings? Ain't been milked for hours. And you know they're gettin' nice and full. Perfect for some sweet thrall to drain and plump them up."

Tavor swallowed hard as she gave her breasts a bounce. He imagined she must indeed be having some issues. It was well known that gluttony demons were veritable feasts unto themselves. Many a Ranger had arrived to find entire towns enthralled in a demonic feast, gorging themselves on empty calories cooked up by the demoness, and in exchange, the succubus herself supped upon the partygoers' souls. Too many fell prey to such demon's delights, partaking in temporary physical pleasure in exchange for their eternal essence.

Luxxa suddenly reached back, picking up a honey wand, still drooling golden sweetness. With a teasing wink, she began to wave it over her ample chest, drooling the thick honey over her teats.

"Mmm. There we go. Now eat up, hun," she said, cupping her chest and giving it a playful bounce. "Let's see what those pretty lips can do."

Knowing his only chance was to give her a taste of his soul, and that the only way to do that required him to play out this ruse, Tavor moved forward. He cupped her breasts, the warmth of her body like the heat of an oven baking loaves of bread. Her scent was fresh ground marjoram, and her breasts were heavy yet soft as fresh kneaded dough. He inhaled and leaned in, his tongue flicking out and tasting some of the honey.

The sugary sweetness burst on his palate unlike anything he'd known before. He gasped, then leaned in and licked again, trying to resist the almost physical urge to suck up every drop.

"There ya go! Now, don't be shy. Momma's got a lotta love to give!" Luxxa said, her hand suddenly behind his head, shoving him forward into the softness of her breasts.

Tavor moaned as his face was mashed between the immense orbs of her breasts. His tongue ran along the curves of her titflesh, licking up the honey, tasting her skin with that golden sweetness. A thick taste. Something almost creamy about it. He groaned, massaging her breasts, licking them like a child at a feast trying to get every drop of gravy off his plate.

And as he followed the trail, he suddenly felt his togue run over a thick bump. One that made Luxxa groan in delight.