Infernal Gray Ch 01

This story shares a setting and some characters with

Infernal World

, and begins a few months after the events in

Infernal World Ch. 04

, but doesn't assume you've read the other story.

Grayson Harding pulled his car into the packed parking lot, grateful to have snagged one of the last spots. He still wasn't sure he wanted to be there at all. Maybe he should give up the spot for someone else.

Well, he had a right to be here. And his wife had urged him to come. So had Lily, the "real" demon who popped in now and then from nowhere, checking up on him. She told him that less than 1 percent of all infernals, worldwide, were still monogamous. She'd even threatened him with a PowerPoint on the subject; apparently PowerPoint was big in Hell.

He grabbed his backpack from the passenger seat and walked toward the club, with its blazing LED sign that read, "Inferno," in a style that imitated neon signs of the 1950's.

There was a line for the front door, and it was moving slowly. It was mostly women, and tilted toward the young and the beautiful. Gray stopped for a moment, leaned against a car that wasn't his, and pulled out a sketch pad and a few pencils. He quickly did a sketch of the line. He didn't try to capture the beauty, just the poses of women in either anxiety or excitement or both.

The few men there were in tuxedos, much better dressed than his own casual dress shirt and jeans. He supposed he should be interested in their emotions, too, and try to draw them, but they didn't interest him given the pageant of feminine beauty on display. There wasn't a leg fully covered among the women. If a skirt was long, it had a slit. If it was short, it might very well be indecently so. One woman bent over to pick up her dropped driver's license, and Gray got to see that she wasn't wearing panties.

Gray sketched that, too.

He felt vaguely guilty as he took in the bikini tops, the tight T-shirts worn braless, the deep V necklines. He was a married man, after all, even if his wife had given him a hall pass. He would have liked to say his appreciation was entirely aesthetic, but it was more than that. He'd been hornier lately.

"I can't keep up," Betty had told him. "You need at least two wives. Go find yourself some other girl to fuck for a bit. Please. My jaw aches, my pussy is sore, and my ass can't take any more."

He'd been bigger lately, too.

He sketched, switching from poses to personalities and outfits, drawing girl after girl as the line slowly dwindled.

"Hey," said a male voice beside him.

He turned. The man was tall, and wore nothing but a pair of jeans and some flip-flops, showing off six-pack abs and well defined pecs. "Hey, yourself," Gray said cheerfully.

"You're making some people nervous. And single men aren't welcome." The man shrugged. "I don't make the rules. I don't claim it's fair. But it is what it is, and you're going to have to move along."

"Ah," Gray said. "I'm an infernal. I thought I was welcome here."

"If you're an infernal, you certainly are. But maybe not in the parking lot, looking like a human drawing pictures so he can ID the girls." The man peered over his shoulder. "Those are pretty good. But yeah, I can see that the point isn't trying to identify people. I'm Blake, by the way."

"Gray."

"You have a nom de inferno?"

"A what?"

"A demon name. When we're in there, we go by a name that sounds demonic. Mine's Belphegor. Just make something up."

"Oh, god, I suck at stuff like that," Gray said. "Can't even name my artwork most of the time. End up with things like 'Potomac River by Sunset' and realize I've called four paintings that, so I call it 'Potomac River by Sunset 4.'"

Blake pulled a phone out of his pocket. "Thank goodness for the internet, huh?" He pulled up a page. "No need to be original. This is where I got mine from."

"Alright. Here's the shortest one. Ur."

"Ur? Alright. Welcome to Inferno, Ur. Our entrance is around the back. Of course, I'll have to see some proof."

"You want me to strip and change here, now?"

"That would do it. Unless you have a Ruritanian ID."

The EU had decided to give its demons a bit of land in the Balkans to call their own. Whimsically, it had been named the Infernal Republic of Ruritania, and had proclaimed all demons citizens. You just had to show up to the Ruritanian embassy and claim the privilege. But Gray hadn't gotten around to it. He had mixed feelings about Ruritania, anyway. They had some interesting laws, to say the least.

Gray looked around. "Well, maybe here, behind this van."

"Sure," Blake said.

Gray had only shapeshifted a couple of times since Lily showed him how. It was handy, whenever he got some kind of cold, to just transform it away. He just had to focus on something that made him really angry, like people who claimed Miro was a better artist than Vermeer, or who shaved standard poodles to make them look ridiculous. He stripped down to his underwear. It took a minute or so, but eventually he managed it.

The underwear ripped as he became a giant, red figure with muscles that outdid even Blake, and a tail. He was well over six feet tall, seven feet if you counted the big curved horns. Gray grabbed his crotch to cover it.

"You don't do that much, do you?" Blake asked. "And nobody here thinks that we've got anything to be embarrassed about, down there."

Gray transformed back. "No. I don't - I keep a low profile."

"Alright. Come with me. Better put your clothes on for now, too. In there you can be naked, for all anyone cares. We're usually in demon form when we're in the club, and if those girls had known you were an infernal, they would have been posing rather than complaining to us."

"Seems a little backward, doesn't it? They're scared of humans, but demons are fine?" Gray said as he followed Blake around the building.

"Context. If you're big and red, you're someone they want to fuck. If you're dressed in a tux, you're a cuck and you're harmless. But you? You look like a creep. Sorry."

"Ugh. I didn't intend to stop to draw, but -"

"Hey, if I could do more than squiggle, I'd probably be out drawing the girls, too. You into the young ones, or the MILFs?"

"I don't know that I'm into any of them. Or that I have a preference."

"Huh," Blake said. "Well. Here we are."

Gray followed Blake through a non-descript black door at the back of the club, and into a paneled room with some tables. He'd hardly ever seen another infernal, and now he was confronted by half a dozen of them. The males were bare chested, wearing jeans or speedos or shorts. One of the women wore a catsuit, unzipped in the front to show her big red breasts, and tight enough in the front that you could see the outlines of her cock, with a hole in the back for her tail to come out. The other wore a sexy schoolgirl outfit that seemed incongruous with her twisty horns and her tail.

"Guys, this is Ur. He's new. He's one of us, but he was the guy outside with the sketchbook. Introduce yourselves." Blake had to speak up a little, because music from the club came through the walls.

"Mara."

"Bahomet."

"Samael."

"Cargor."

The girl in the catsuit was "Anathema," and the girl in the schoolgirl outfit was "Brezzoleth."

There were a few humans there, too. Women. A blonde who looked like she was six months pregnant sidled up to Blake. She wore an oversized T-shirt, with the words, "Infernal Baby on Board."

"My girlfriend, Chloe," Blake said. "Chloe, Ur."

"Or just Gray," Gray told her.

"Hi just Gray," Chloe said with a grin.

"Can I sketch you? Won't take but a couple of minutes."

Chloe looked at Blake, who shrugged, and then back to Gray. "Sure!"

"Time for my bit of show business," Bahomet said. "Are the rest of you ready to go?"

"Sure," Mara said. "You know I always like to be first. No sloppy seconds for me."

"Let's go fuck some chicks," Samael said.

Brezzoleth rolled her eyes. "I'll gather the cucks," she said, and then to Anathema. "You joining me, or are you going to cruise?"

"Cruise," Anathema said.

Everyone but Blake, Chloe, and Cargor went out through a door, and the moment they opened it the thumping music of the club got a lot louder.

"Am I allowed to stay in my human form here?" Gray asked.

Cargor and Blake looked at each other. "It isn't a rule," Cargor said. "It's just a suggestion. But you'll stick out. We upped the dress code for the cucks. Hmm. Interesting problem."

"I could just sit in the corner, sketching," Gray suggested.

"We could say he's hired by the club to do some art," Blake said.

Cargor shrugged. "That works."

"Maybe once I get the vibe of the place I'll be good to change," Gray said. "I brought some clothes that fit my infernal form."

"You do understand that the women here want - well, they want the full demon experience," Cargor said.

"But as Tricia always says," Blake said. "We aren't here for them. They are here for us. This is our place. So if Gray, uh, Ur, wants to draw them, well, that's what they are here for. I do think that if you drew them while you were in demon form, you'd probably be able to get them to pose for you."

"I'd actually rather draw them acting naturally," Gray said.

He remembered Betty telling him, "Gray, I accept that my husband is who he is. What you've become. It's time you accepted it, too."

"You got this, Blake?" Cargor asked.

"Yep. Go have fun." Blake said. Then to Gray: "Alright, let's get you set up. I'm going to change, and then I'll find you a spot." He stripped off his jeans, opened one of the lockers on the side of the room. Then his skin rippled for a moment, and he was big and red, with horns that spiraled from the top of his head. He picked up his old jeans with his tail and took out a new pair with his hands, before putting on the new, larger pair.

"Want to store your stuff? Pick out a locker, any one that's empty. You don't have to worry about people stealing your stuff here. We demons stick together, and the only people allowed back here is us and the female staff."

"Speaking of staff, I need to get out there and work some, honey," Chloe said.

"Don't overdo," Blake said.

"I'm only six months," Chloe said. "Stop being so protective. I'll be fine."

"Sorry."

Chloe laughed. "I secretly love it."

"If you talk to people, let them know we have a staff artist."

Gray stashed his backpack, but held on to the pad, three pencils, and a rubber eraser. Then he followed Gray out.

It was loud, and the place was flooded with red light that made everyone look a little demonic, even the humans. It also made people more monochromatic, somehow, which might make them interesting to draw.

If the outfits had been revealing outside, they were more so now. Some of the women were naked, and many were topless. Some danced on the stage, alone and putting on a show or gathering in groups around tall, masculine figures with horns. Others mingled below, talking, flirting. There were nearly a hundred women, and a dozen demons.

In a corner of the room, Brezzoleth held court over less than a dozen men in tuxes who sat in rows on benches a little too short for them.

There was plenty to draw.

Blake - Belphegor - picked up a chair like it was weightless. "Pick a good spot."

Gray pointed to a spot on the edge. "There's fine. Should be able to see the stage, and a fair amount of the rest of the place."

Blake nodded. "Okay. Go for it. If you decide to go backstage, I'll notify the staff what you look like so they let you. Enjoy."

"You too."

Gray sat. It didn't take long before Blake was surrounded by women, most of which he seemed to know. Gray sketched, aware at some level that he was using his art to deal with his introversion.

Some of the girls, he noticed, had collars on them, made of blue steel. Slavery was legal in Ruritania, providing the master was a demon and the slave entered into the agreement of their own free will. More than a few Americans had gone to the Ruritanian embassy to give up their freedom, or as the Church of the Infernal Angels called it, to sell their souls.

They looked as happy as anyone there. More so, maybe. Serene? He wasn't sure that was quite right. Inferno wasn't a serene place. It was noisy and rambunctious, and now a demon was fucking a girl who was bent over the railing around the stage.

Gray sketched that. And then did another sketch when two girls slid in to lick the demon's balls. It was all a far cry from landscapes, and he had to move his pencil feverishly. Nothing stayed still at Inferno for more than a moment.

He didn't know how much time had passed when a voice interrupted him. An hour, perhaps.

"Mr. Harding?" A feminine voice said.

Oh, shit, someone I know. He looked up.

He knew he'd seen her, but he wasn't sure where, and had the sense that it had been a while. She was probably twenty-five now, with dark hair that just reached her shoulders, and an amused smile. A tight white shirt stretched over ample breasts. No slogan, just two red circles with horns positioned one over each nipple, and since the circles weren't filled in, he could tell she wasn't wearing a bra. She had one of those ultra-short skirts on, too, a black and red pleated one.

A memory flashed into his mind of her leaning over a car, wearing a rainbow swimsuit top and jeans shorts, with a bucket nearby and a sponge in her hand. Sara, that's what her name was.

"Eyes are up here, Mr. Harding."

"Sorry. The light, the shadow - anyway, nice to see you again, Sara." And it was, because she was lovely. It wasn't, because she was someone he knew, and who might talk. If he'd changed into his demon form, he'd be incognito, but his hands would be bigger, and he wasn't sure he could draw as well. Also, from the behavior he'd seen so far, he'd have a group of girls around him trying to flirt and blocking his view. Although they might be a pretty nice view themselves. There weren't any bad-looking women in Inferno.

"The light, the shadow. I bet you say that to all the girls." She glanced over at the men in the tuxedos, one of whom was now sucking on Brezzoleth's cock. Apparently she had a convenient zipper in her catsuit. Two others were nibbling on her toes. "I wouldn't have taken you for one of them."

"I'm not one of them," he said.

Sara smiled. "Well, um, you won't tell my parents you saw me here, will you, Mr. Harding? And I won't tell Betty."

"Betty knows," Gray said. "It was her idea."

"Branching out from landscapes?" Sara said, peering at his sketch pad, and the lewd pictures of demons and human women on it.

She remembered. That was flattering. He definitely remembered her ass in her tight shorts as she bent over the car. She must have washed that car every two weeks, and he'd sketched her more than a few times. "Sure."

"Well, still, you won't tell my parents? I guess I don't have anything to offer you in return."

As if a girl like that could ever not have anything to offer. Gray was annoyed with himself for the objectifying thought as soon as he considered it. "I won't tell."

"Of course they'll have to know when I find a master," she said. "Hopefully you won't have to keep the secret for long, before I find someone to collar me. Obviously then I'll have to be out and proud."

"Right. Yes. Hopefully. Good luck, Sara." He didn't know what to say for that.

"Well, nice to see you, Mr. Harding. Happy drawing."

He watched her walk away, seeing glimpses of her butt cheeks as her short skirt swayed. Someone was going to own that girl at some point. She was too cute to pass up. Blake, Bahomet, Mara - someone.

He got up and walked quickly toward the back room.

Sara looked around. So many big, hunky demons. And so much attractive competition. At least a dozen of the girls there had already earned a collar, and she was jealous.

It sure was weird running into Mr. Harding again. He had always seemed like such a nice man, and to see him drawing such erotic pictures had shocked her. She couldn't judge, of course, because she hoped to be used just like the women he was drawing. Still, for a human

man

to be into that struck her as different. I mean, really, all they could do was watch.

She supposed that's all he did when she was washing the car, too. She was aware of his eyes on her, and he wasn't the only one. It was kind of fun, being watched, and knowing she was safe. There was a reason over time her shorts had gotten shorter and her T-shirts had gotten tighter, and it wasn't just because she'd filled out some. She liked the attention. Of course, that was all before the demons. She wasn't interested in human men now.

She didn't just want to fuck demons, like many of the women there. She wanted more. She wanted to belong. She wanted to feel the collar around her neck and know that the electronics inside it would let her demon master always know where she was, and that they could shock her if she disobeyed. She wanted to be owned, not just borrowed and used and cast aside.

Although if her owner wanted to loan her out, then that would be different. Did she want to be whored out? It wasn't so much that, as that she wanted to have no choice in the matter.

For that, she would need to show she was worthy, she knew. That she was able to submit. That she had the skills to please. Honestly, she wasn't sure she did. Her sexual experience was limited. She wasn't a virgin, but she'd only had a few boyfriends, and only given a few blowjobs.

She sighed. How could she stand out in this crowd, and get someone to notice her. The idea of going up to a demon and even speaking to one made her nervous. And while she usually thought she looked pretty good at the office, or out and about in a restaurant or whatever, among these women she felt like she was nothing special. All 9's and 10's, she thought. And I'm an 8.

No, girl. You're a 9. Go right up to that big naked demon over there, the one with the really big horns, and the even bigger cock. You don't have to say anything, just go up to him and kneel. I really should say something, though. 'This girl wishes to serve.' I can say that.

Another demon, this one just wearing a pair of jeans, crossed her line of view before she had a chance to put her plan into action. Like all of them, he had a big broad chest, eight-pack abs, massive shoulders, and biceps as big as her legs. He was heading straight toward her!

She felt like fleeing, but she forced herself to freeze, instead.

"Hello there," came the deep, gravelly voice.

A demon talked to me! Oh! And he's looking me over!

She arched her back and thrust out her tits. "Uh, hi!" she said.

Oh, very eloquent, girl. Nice.

"Yeah. Um. Hi."

God, he's as nervous as I am. Why?

"Hi," she said again. "You're very big and, um, red. It's great! I - this girl wishes to serve."

Should I go to my knees? Oh, I wish he'd just push me into place.

"Ha. Come here often?" Now he sounded more confident.

Sara shook his head. "First time! Inferno virgin."

Shouldn't have said that. He probably wants someone with experience. No, he suspected it was my first time. Breathe.

"Me too. I'm Ur."

"Sara. For now."

"For now?"

"Well, someday someone might rename me." Sara congratulated herself on her subtle way of indicating what she was interested in.

"Sara's a nice name. Want to dance?"

"Dance? I'm all left fe--yes, of course. I would be happy to dance." The dancing she'd seen so far didn't stay as dancing, for the most part. There was usually a minute of dancing, followed by non-stop sex. The demons had almost no refractory time. Women were crawling on the stage to lick up the mess.

I'd never do that. Even if it's demon cum, it's gross.

Then she noticed that one of the women had a Ruritanian slave collar on.

But what if I was told to?