A Taste Of Hell Adron

~~Author's Note~~

Welcome. "A Taste of Hell" is a mini series of small novelettes, each told from a unique point of view of side characters in my upcoming main series "The Pleasures of Hell", a fantasy adventure set in Hell. While the main series will have two PoVs, both human (brother and sister) and not featured in this series, these prologue/bonus chapters will give curious readers a taste of this setting from the view of the various angels and demons that populate it, and a taste of the erotic elements.

These chapters are entirely optional. No need to read them if you'd prefer to go into the main series blind.

Erotically, "A Taste of Hell", and "The Pleasures of Hell", will focus largely on monster girls and monster boys, usually paired with someone not monster-y. Expect lots of kinks to be explored, with exaggerated proportions, size difference, deep/large penetration, harems and/or reverse harems, and plenty of others. There'll be fantasies for dominant and submissive readers alike. Erotic scenes that are particularly long and descriptive will be bracketed with ♥♥♥ /♥♥♥. If you're not looking for a juicy scene, skim the dialog in these sections so you don't miss anything important.

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Be warned! This chapter is very erotic, with some reluctance/domination aspects.

Not all AToH chapters will have sex scenes, but sometimes I can't help myself. The next couple chapters will have no sex, and focus entirely on building the world.

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~~Three years before the Arrival~~

~~Adron~~

The trip back from the spire took weeks. Diogo would ask him questions, but Adron had done this song and dance before, and lying to Diogo was easy enough. Diogo may have been bigger, stronger, and smarter than your average devorjin, but being smarter than a pile of bones wasn't saying much. Still, if Diogo ever figured out what was going on, he'd snap Adron in two. He had to be careful.

Adron sat on a boulder not far from Diogo's mountain cave, and watched. Little grems and imps glided by, hopping off the mountain the cave lay beneath, and catching what air they could before they landed on nearby mountains; Gorzen Mountains had plenty. Gorgalas did the same, and even a few Dilojas, but they couldn't catch the same distance as the little bastards.

He saw what he needed to see. The gliders were coming and going with typical frequency. Nothing crazy had happened, nothing he'd have to assess before returning to Diogo. Last thing he wanted to do was to walk in during a raid.

He approached the Gorzen Eye Mountain, and stepped into the stone fortress, Diogo's cave. No one guarded the entrance. No one ever did. Diogo probably had spies watching, maybe some of the grems and imps if he could control them enough, but Adron was convinced none of them had followed him when he left, weeks ago. Adron had done this a hundred times, and he'd do it a hundred times more.

He walked through the halls, talons clutching at the stone floor, tail slithering behind him. The path went down, and down, and winding left and right as it split off into new paths, the massive cave network that was where the bailiff of Gorzen Mountains always lived. Now it was Diogo. Maybe it'd be Adron some day? Not if he wanted to live. Nah, much happier on the sidelines.

Hopefully Hannah was still alive.

Deep through the tunnels, he walked past several chambers with demons enjoying themselves. A couple of devorjins, huge brutes, were fucking a tregeera. Of course, with a tregeera, you had to hold her down or she'd scratch your eyes out, and Adron wasn't big enough to manage a tiger, not easily, anyway. He was eight feet tall, but so were tregeera. Devorjin were nine feet tall, and hulking Goliaths of strength. It took the two of them holding her down to keep her from biting and clawing them to ribbons.

But based on the noises, that's how this tregeera liked it.

Adron moved on.

Another chamber showed a gorgala, and a human. Betrayer? Didn't look like it, based on the fresh cuts on his body. The gorgala spread her wings and smiled down at her prey, and thrust her hips into him, fucking him. She had him in her grip now, her sin overpowering his mind, and based on the sadistic look on her face, she wasn't going let his erection die anytime soon. Poor bastard. Some demons just liked to play with -- or fuck -- their prey before eating them. As if Hell wasn't sick enough.

Adron rolled his eyes and moved on. His two horns hit against the cave ceiling as the tunnel tapered, and he was forced to crouch before moving into the next tunnel. His preferred path. Less demons he had to deal with.

But more remnants. One of the groaning dead reached out from the shadows and caught his ankle. He snarled and spun, and slashed the remnant's emaciated face open. The corpse died again, 156 changed to 155, and the corpse collapsed into a pile of skin, muscle, and organs. A mess that would stick around for days until either a starving imp or grem debased themselves by eating scraps, or maybe a brave lorad would sneak into the cave and eat the scraps, before a grem or imp ate them.

It only grew worse as he continued. Devorjin ignored this tunnel due to its size, so he wouldn't have to deal with them, but as the tunnel went on, with only small amber veins to light the way, he sometimes wondered if it was worth it. The groans grew louder, and louder, until Adron could no longer hear his own breathing.

Remnants. Some reached up from the floor, some from the walls, and some from the ceiling. Some were buried up to the neck in stone. Others dangled from broken knees. Most stuck out from the waist, pushing at the stone to escape its confines, but never able to. They cried endlessly, and wailed as Adron approached.

One of them grabbed one of his horns. They were big horns, all vratorin had big horns, but that didn't give some remnant the right to touch him. Adron reached up, and sank his claws through the remnant's face and skull. 450 became 449, and fell apart into a useless pile of gore, right onto Adron's head. Figured. Adron pulled the flesh and entangled intestines off his head and horns, and shook his head, sending red splatters everywhere with his tendrils. Blood seeped down over his body and in through the cracks of his armor of metal and bone. Hannah could clean it later.

The tunnel went on for a while, and the screams and cries of the dead went on with it. Every step meant he moved into range of several remnants, and they didn't hesitate to grab him. He didn't hesitate to kill them. Talons sank through muscle and skin. Claws tore through limbs.

"He... Help." One of the remnants reached out and grabbed Adron's arm around the bicep, using both her hands to do it. Adron may not have been a devorjin, but a vratorin wasn't an imp or grem. He was a plenty muscular creature, and the remnant couldn't circle half his bicep with both hands.

He didn't look her in the eye. He only glanced at her long enough to see the number etched into her forehead, 54, before he backhanded her hard enough her face collapsed in at the cheek, and her neck wrenched hard enough to tear. 54 became 53, and he moved on.

The tunnel ended, and opened up into one of the many chambers of the Gorzen Eye Mountain. Not so many remnants anymore, but there were some. Some lay on their side, most of their body exposed, slowly withering to time. Others dangled high above, out of reach. Some squirmed between rocks that crushed their guts into mulch. Some, Hell had used as mortar for stones along the walls, and the remnants sobbed as they pushed against the rocks crushing their legs or pelvises. It didn't matter how hard they tried, they'd never get free.

Maybe Adron should leave Death's Grip? He hated this place, hated waking up to find a fresh remnant clawing at his tail. Sometimes they even managed to speak, and begged for mercy. Was it like that in False Gate? A land of metal, metal buildings, metal fortresses. Maybe demons could sleep there without being disturbed.

But Zel would mount his head on a spike in her throne room if he tried to leave Death's Grip.

Sighing, Adron wiped some remnant blood from his face, and moved on. The next tunnel took him past more chambers, deep in the cave near Diogo's throne room. This deep was where more of Diogo's trusted demons were, and on the path to where Adron's chambers were located.

One chamber held Zreeg, a borjin. Big, dumb builder creatures. Minotaurs, according to the humans. Demons didn't have fur, and borjin didn't exactly have snouts, but close enough.

Another chamber held Zola, a volara, succubus. In classic fashion, she did what she did best, fucking, and she was currently fucking a vratorin, like Adron. The succubus looked mostly human save for the red skin, the tiny horns, the devil tail, and the lack of human hair; even succubi had tendrils instead of hair.

This vratorin, a bit smaller than Adron, was over seven feet tall, with a mostly human body. Except for the long smooth tail. Except for the raptorial feet, and huge talons and claws. Except for the two massive horns. And most of all, except for the skull-like demon face that left many teeth exposed. Vratorins were scary, but also handsome, with big defined jaws, according to Zola. And as much as he couldn't trust Zola as far as he could throw a mountain, if there was anything a succubus knew, it was sex appeal.

But vratorins were common, a dime a dozen, almost as bad as the grems and imps. No demon looked at vratorins with curiosity or concern. Adron liked it better that way. Made it easier to do his job.

The tunnel opened up to the throne room, and Adron sighed as Diogo came into view. If the devorjin had been sleeping in his chamber, Adron could just talk to him tomorrow and save himself some pain. He needed sleep after weeks of trekking. But, Diogo saw him, and raised a hand for him to come closer.

Unlike Adron, Diogo was naked, and sitting on his throne of rock that'd been carved out of the cave wall. Chains dangled from the ceiling with skulls attached to them, with some chains attached to the throne, and bones hooked to them too. No remnants grew nearby, probably cleared by his servants earlier today. But the bones remained, piles of them, stored around the throne and against the back wall, to make Diogo look a lot more important that he was.

Such a massive devorjin, almost ten feet tall, broader and stronger than his kin. Devorjin didn't have horns, spikes, tails, or wings, and their skull faces were more demonic than human. Their skin was dark, almost black, thick and almost as hard as meera metal. They were big brutes, enforcers, and they were very good at their job.

Diogo was aroused. Where his skin would be black, it was now dark red. And the softer parts of the body, normally dark red, now throbbed blood red, his abs and the inside of his arms and legs. And the giant cock he currently had a succubus and gorgala sucking on. The succubus knelt beside his left knee, the gorgala his right with her wings snug to her back, and both bathed the head of his huge dick in hungry kisses.

The devorjin definitely had his preference. Sitting on his throne while two, or three or four demons gobbled on his dick with either real or fake enthusiasm, was a big kink of his. Succubi were happy to indulge him. The other female demons were usually not.

Adron allowed himself one short-lived frown before he walked up to Diogo, and stopped ten feet from him. "Diogo."

"Adron. You were gone for almost three weeks."

"I got involved in a hunt that took me near The Red Pits. I got stuck over there for a while." A reasonable lie.

"Good that Khazeer didn't get you."

"As if he'd care if a vratorin entered his land on a hunt."

"He might, if he knew it was you."

Adron didn't flinch. Diogo didn't know about Adron's deal with Zel, he couldn't have. This was just Diogo being his usual asshole self, and assuming everyone was out to get him, out to screw him over. He wasn't wrong, but he also wouldn't kill Adron without having at least some idea of what Adron was actually up to. Adron was too useful.

"Then I'm glad he didn't find me."

"Must have been deadly prey, Adron."

"It was a group. A few humans that'd been surviving for at least a few months. It got hectic."

Diogo nodded, looked down, and set a hand on the succubus's head. She was doing her best to fit the bastard's dick between her lips. Trying and failing, but at least her head blocked Adron's view so he didn't have to see the details. The gorgala beside her kissed Diogo's length, her wings hooked over her shoulders like a cape, and tail slowly slithering left and right on the cave floor. She was aroused too, they both were. Considering the gorgala didn't look all that happy to be there, it was probably the succubus working her sin. Or maybe the gorgala actually liked being forced into the situation, like the succubus probably did.

"Tacitus has sent word," Diogo said, eyes still on the two women tending to him. "Keep an eye open for a riiva, Adron. Tacitus wants her."

"Dead?"

"Ideally no, but he'd accept it."

Knowing Tacitus, that meant he wanted to kill the riiva himself, and make a display of it, too.

"You want me to hunt her down?"

"No. I've sent Scilla after her. But in case she fails, keep an eye open for her."

"Alright. Description?"

"Six feet, several scars between the spikes of her shoulder blades. Extremely well endowed."

Adron raised a brow. Well endowed? Most devorjin would say 'big tits' or something. Either Diogo was getting smarter, or he was just trying to emulate Zel without understanding why she talked like that.

"Alright. Riiva, several scars, unusually large breasts." Probably why Tacitus wanted her, knowing his tastes. Should be easy to spot too, considering how most riiva were built. Amazing legs and asses sure, but not very top heavy.

"You may go." Diogo waved him off, and relaxed back in his throne.

Adron nodded, and left.

His alcove wasn't too far from the throne room, but he had to climb up a wall to get to it. The cave tunnels weren't smooth, with jutting rocks and piles of stone and bones on or in the surfaces he needed to scale. A remnant reached out from a crevice, eyes wide and filled with tears of agony, but Adron avoided it as he continued up and up. Let someone else deal with it.

Up in a higher tunnel, he lowered into a crouch, and prowled forward. Quieter up here. There were screams and moans, but they came from the lower tunnels. The upper tunnels were usually empty this time of the day, the way Adron liked it. More importantly, there were less remnants, less shrieks and wails of the damned. A lot of demons loved those sounds. They just made it harder for Adron to sleep.

The upper tunnels of the cave were dark, with only occasional slivers of amber. No devorjin came up here; they didn't climb well, and they didn't do as well in the dark as other demons. But there were several vratorins like Adron up here, succubi and incubi too, some gorgalas, and of course, plenty of imps and grems. They--

Pain shot up through Adron's spine as something sharp collided with his back. More than something sharp, something heavy. He fell forward hard, palms, chest, and face smashing into the stone floor. And predictably, another spark of pain shot up through his back, where the sharp thing was desperately trying to break through his skin. Trying, but whoever was trying to stab him had failed.

Hannah roared and drove the blade against his back harder, but Adron rolled over easily. He'd thought maybe the heavy thing had been some blade wielded by a succubus, but no, it was Hannah herself. She'd jumped his back, and had tried to penetrate his dark hide with what looked like a knife. A proper knife, curved and shining with sharpness, metal black, hilt of bone. A gift from Tillia, perhaps? Reminder: pay Tillia a visit, once Hannah was dealt with.

Hannah was a slippery one. The human managed to stay on top of him as Adron rolled onto his back, and she kept the knife in hand as she did, too. With the best roar a human woman could manage, she drove the blade down at his chest.

Adron knocked the small creature's arms aside with a quick backhand from his left hand, and sent the blade flying. Hannah was a few inches over fight five feet tall. He was nearly nine feet. The difference in size and strength was laughable, and he chuckled as he snapped out his right hand, and wrapped his grip around her throat, entirely.

She glared at him as she clutched at his wrist, her little hands barely able to half circle it. Weak as she was compared to him, she could do nothing as he pushed himself up to sitting, and then to standing, all the while holding her in front of him until her feet were dangling in the air. She kicked at him, bare feet colliding with his chest and abs, but he'd been kicked harder by a baby goort, let alone Hannah. She even tried to kick him in the genitals, but his body wasn't aroused, and his genitals were safely secure inside him. All she managed to do was hurt her foot.

"Hannah Hannah," he whispered, and he pulled her in closer until his pet was only inches from his face. "How many times have I told you? Go for where the flesh is red."

She glared at him with murder in her eyes as she held onto his wrist, desperate to keep her weight off the grip around her throat. The number 666 was etched across her forehead, scars of black and red.

He grinned at her, licked several of his fangs, and set her down on her feet before letting go of her. She gasped as she fought for air, but she'd learned enough to keep her eyes on him as she did. Angry and defiant, even as she struggled to keep from erupting into a coughing mess. He did love that about her.

"Fuck you," she managed at last. "The fuck am I supposed to do? Go for your front?"

Laughing, he walked over to the blade and fetched it. He returned to her, and as he looked down at his little pet, he pointed the blade at his chest.

"Red flesh is soft. Soft enough at least for a human to puncture with a blade." He turned a bit and pointed at his back, above the armor but below the neck where she'd tried to stab him, where the flesh was much darker, almost black. "No weak betrayer is penetrating that."

"I'm not weak."

No, she was not, at least not by the standards of human. Hannah, a human woman, was quite lean, with pale skin peppered with dirt, and short blond hair. Blue eyes. She'd built muscle since dying, giving her a lithe and athletic slim figure, compared to the stick woman he'd saved. And at the moment, she wore what looked like a goort leather heavy strap draped over one shoulder, and the brown material reached low enough to cover from her chest to her thighs.

He chuckled again as he squatted down in front of his pet, before he looked down at the blade in front them. And he cracked it in half.

She almost said something, but only glared at him.

He grinned again, and broke the hilt in half, and the blade as well, leaving the tool in bits and pieces. And with a single claw, he idly cut through the strap of her leather. Once it fell to the floor of stone, he scooped it up, and in a couple seconds, shredded the leather into ribbons.

She made no effort to stop him. She knew the rules. But she did make sure to glare at him with all the hate and vitriol she could muster as he left her naked. Her eternal body, like many women these days, lacked body hair of any kind, and he licked his fangs with his long tongue as he admired the way her abs looked above her smooth mons.

She didn't so much as cover her small breasts as she stared daggers into him.

"I had to do favors to get that knife."

"What a shame."

"And I had to kill a goort, and make those clothes on my own."