~~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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This chapter is heavy on setting exploration. If you'd prefer to not get spoiled about setting details, no need to read, or read this after having read a decent chunk of the main series. I'll make sure to avoid spoiling anything major in these novelettes, but I know some readers prefer going into a series as a blank slate.
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~~Three years before the Arrival~~
~~Janneke~~
She pulled against the cuffs around her wrists, but they held true. If it'd been a pair of meera cuffs, then maybe she could have broken free of them with great use of her grace. But they were aera. Humans called it Hell bronze. Angels called it frustratingly durable.
Her eyes followed the cuffs to the chain between them, and demon that held it. A devorjin, a large, hornless, tailless brute. Janneke was a mikalim, and more than capable of wrestling down most demons and killing them with her bare hands. But not a devorjin. The hulking creature held her chain and cuffs meant to bind the most powerful demons unlucky enough to be caught in them, and she could not so much as even attempt to wrestle herself free with her grace drained.
The cuffs were meant for wrists of her size, and no demon who could fit into cuffs this size would be strong enough to break meera with pure brute strength, let alone the far stronger aera metal. Which meant the cuffs were made to hold unusually dangerous demons of her size, or angels. Zelandariel had to trade -- or fight or steal -- to get aera metal, and it was likely she took it from False Gate. Quite the hassle, for such a specific purpose.
Zel was going to eat her.
Janneke glared at the back of the eight-foot beast before her, and reached into her self. Her grace was nothing more than quiet embers. She could not summon her batlam rune, so she had no armaments, and no armor. That left her in her white silk robes, bracelets and necklaces of gold, gold-colored sandals, and her face exposed. Vulnerable.
The creature took her through one of the many tunnels beneath the mountains of Death's Grip. They'd been walking for two days, and had two days more before they reached the spire, and Zelandariel. Two days of hoping the devorjin would let his guard down. Two days of no such mistake. But two more days of hope, and attempts to escape.
The devorjin did not speak, even when she goaded and insulted him. So convinced of his loyalty to Zel, he would not even tell the angel his name. So devoted was he, he did not relieve his sexual hungers upon her. He'd been tempted, several times, and had once approached her with rage in his dark eyes deep within his skull-like face, enormous shaft dangling between his thighs, but had stopped himself. Lucky for him. Her hands were bound and held to a chain, but her feet were perfectly free, and she'd have been quite ready to remind the demon why it was better to keep his skin dark and hard, and his sensitive parts inside and safe.
It never came to it. Instead, whoever this devorjin was, he took her down into the canyons of Death's Grip, deep between the sharp rocks, deep between the jagged cliffs, and deep into the bowels of Hell. The rock down here was hotter, and amber veins decorated many rock faces, some of them large enough they radiated with the heat of hellfire. Much of the rock showed obvious signs of melting, with dripping stalactites from curved rock walls threatening to fall on them in the canyon. The skies above, burning with flames of red, orange, and blood, darkened as night fell on them. But night mattered little in Hell when fire burned everywhere.
Janneke snarled as she looked around at the tightening walls. Impins and impas, gremlins and gremlas, they perched on the myriad of rock outcroppings in the small canyon, staring at her. Several of the short creatures openly masturbated, stroking their penises or penetrating themselves with their tails -- claws were an issue -- as they smiled at her, showing their many teeth.
It only grew worse as they continued, and the canyon's walls merged into a ceiling before the canyon, now tunnel, spread wider. A cave that morphed into a tunnel, with stalagmites and stalactites its teeth. The heat increased, humidity drowning her, but at least there was space to move.
More grems and imps. Janneke growled at one of the nearby infernal creatures, an impa, and she chuckled maniacally as she licked her lips. But the impa knew to not touch her. It was Janneke's only saving grace, that the imps and grems knew this devorjin and knew who he served. Or they knew the devorjin would happily kill and eat a dozen of them before they managed to steal Janneke away.
And they definitely wanted to. An angel would be quite the prize for any demon, hence the devorjin's steel resolve in her capture, but many demons would have taken the opportunity to indulge in her beauty. Her radiant wings of white, her warm skin and dark lips, and long platinum blond hair drew the eyes of all the demons she past. Her white marble eyes glared death at any demon foolhardy enough to meet her gaze, but she was bound, and the demons lauded the opportunity to watch her with hungry interest. Not even her -- according to her gabriem friends -- 'naturally angry face', dissuaded the gawking creatures.
They went deeper. Noises echoed in the tunnel, chirping sounds, mixed with high pitched moans. Some burning bushes lit alcoves along the walls, amber veins flickering in the reflected firelight, and the swirling red danced along the cave stone as constructs of dark meera metal played with the light.
Statues. Statues of demons of old, and demons of now. Dozens of them, maybe even hundreds. She didn't know when they were forged or who forged them. Perhaps Valzanal, ruler of Death's Grip before Zelandariel. She'd been one of those theatrical ruler types, as far as Jann knew, with a habit of indulging in displays of violence, torture, and anything that inflated her ego.
Or Hell could have forged the statues herself. It wouldn't have been the first time.
Many of the statues were sitting, backs to the walls of the tunnel, or backs to each other. Most had their arms out of the way of their bodies, with legs out to create a lap of some kind. And most of them had enormous, erect penises.
Metal likely did not make for comfortable penetration, but that didn't stop half the statues from having one demon or another in their laps. Mostly demons of female tilt, but a few male types enjoyed some giant metal phalluses in their bodies as well. A strange orgy of casual reverence in the demons of old, demons like the tetrad, or even some of the great children like Belor or Camilla. Camilla was of female tilt, according to the records, but that didn't stop the statue from having a very large penis. Artistic license, or Hell giving the demons what they wanted, Jann didn't know. But swarms of the annoying imps and grems, and several succubi and incubi draped themselves over the titan woman of dark metal.
