The Pleasure Planet Pt. 01

The hellhound looked like a shadow wreathed in fur. Powerful muscles rippled as it shifted its weight. It crouched on all fours, looking up at its master, amber eyes glowing with a baleful light. The scent of a female in heat drew the hellhound's attention, and it turned its wolfish head to gaze across the room. Master had to tug on its chains to keep the hellhound in place.

A young woman, barely out of her teenage years, was being forced down on the thick wooden table that occupied the middle of the room. Master's helpers - the tyrants, he called them - were holding her in the correct position; bent over the table with her feet on the ground and her face pressed against the rough wood. The hellhound stood in excitement, straining against the chains, and whimpered with desire. Standing upright he was much taller and larger than his master, but he knew better than to struggle free; disobedience would be harshly punished.

"Calm, Shadow." Master crooned, stroking the hellhound's jet black fur. Hellhounds were what happened when a werewolf was resurrected by a necromancer. They were violent, dangerous beasts with no memory of their human life and no mercy upon their victims. Only through continual satisfaction of their sexual desires could they be rendered somewhat tame, and taught to follow orders.

Shadow shifted his weight from foot to foot impatiently. His erection strained against the chains wrapped around his thick black cock. This was a method of control; Master had the key that unlocked the chains, Master controlled whether or not Shadow could use his favourite toy, and so Master had to be obeyed or the desire would build and build until Shadow was a writhing mess of desire and longing, locked in a tiny cell, aching to rut against something but unable to move. That had been his fate once when he had accidentally torn apart a prisoner of war Master hadn't wanted harmed; he would be careful not to disobey again.

"I am going to free you, now." Master breathed in Shadow's ear, and the hellhound's tail wagged excitedly. "You must not kill this one. Understand?"

Shadow was too distracted by the scent of the girl, and he whined, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Master slid his hand in between the wolf's powerful legs and squeezed Shadow's balls, making the hellhound yelp.

"Understand?!"

"Yes!" Shadow panted. "Yes, Master, please...!"

The necromancer released his servant and unlocked the chains.

"Is she tied down?" He called across the room.

The tyrants nodded and scrambled away, clearing space for the hellhound; none of them wanted to get too close to such a dangerous creature.

The chains fell away and Shadow's erection sprung free, curving up, glistening and strong. At a word from Master the hellhound sprang across the room in one bound. He sniffed the female up and down, then growled into her ear, "I am going to make you scream."

Angel was from a Christian family, and had been on her way to church that morning when the tyrants had taken her. They had dragged her kicking and screaming into an alley, and there they had pushed her to her knees and taken turns forcing themselves down her throat, pumping and thrusting like pistons and pulling her long blonde hair until their salty cream spurted into her mouth. They had delighted in making her swallow it, clamping their hands over her nose and mouth and shouting that she would be suffocated if she didn't do as instructed. The entire time she had prayed to god, and thanked him for making them use her mouth instead of her sacred place; she was a virgin, and wanted to remain that way until marriage.

But now the hellhound leaned over her, heavy and powerful, and she felt the tip of his thick cock pressing against her entrance, and she wailed in despair. She would be ruined. No man would marry a woman tainted with the cum of a hellhound, and god would turn from her in disgust.

"Please!" She sobbed. "Please, please, no!"

Shadow snarled in irritation and grabbed her face, pressing his palm over her mouth, to shut her up. He pressed forward with his hips, and his cock began to slide in; god she was tight! Too tight - he was tearing her, and she bucked against him and screamed, trying to get free, but her struggles only made him moan in pleasure.

He pressed harder, and his cock slid deeper, stretching her. He began to thrust gently, while the girl cried in pain. Now she was making sounds he liked, so he released her face and instead pressed his hands down on her shoulders, so that her cries rang clear. He loved the sounds of suffering.

He began to thrust harder and faster. Angel was laying limp now, no longer struggling. Shadow twisted his clawed fingers through her hair and yanked her head back, arching her spine. He slid his other hand around her throat and squeezed, hard, harder, until she made delicious gagging sounds, choking, drool dripping from the corner of her mouth. Her body shuddered and convulsed, and moved against his cock pleasantly.

When she looked as though she were about to pass out he released her, and she flopped down onto the table, gasping for air. Now he grabbed her hips and pumped in and out and in and out. His claws dug into her skin and he moaned in ecstasy. It didn't escape his notice that her cheeks turned pink and her eyes fluttered.

When he reached the edge of orgasm he paused, and leaned forward to whisper into the girl's ear. "I am going to cum inside you now."

"No!" Angel wailed, knowing what that would mean. "Please, I don't want to be cursed!" She cried and begged and pleaded, and Shadow closed his eyes and listened to her distress with pleasure, moaning softly. Then he grabbed her hips once more and thrust even harder and stronger than before, and Angel gasped and writhed in pleasure and tried to deny the burning growing inside her, but it spread and spread until the first orgasm of her life shuddered throughout her entire body, and the hellhound came with a roar and with each pump filled her with thick black cum.

When it was over and the hellhound was curled contentedly in a corner, licking his cock clean with his soft pink tongue, the necromancer gently removed Angel's chains and pulled her to her feet. He held her head in both hands and peered into her eyes, looking almost concerned, then he smiled.

"You enjoyed that."

Angel's bottom lip trembled. "No... no..." But she knew she was lying; she had enjoyed it, at the end, enjoyed it more than anything else she had ever felt.

"You will soon learn to accept what you now are." The necromancer told her. Then he summoned his tyrants and they took her away and locked her in a room and she fell onto a soft bed and cried and cried, and then, after what felt liked eternity, finally slipped into exhausted sleep. She dreamt of the hellhound and his thick black cock, and the pleasure he had given her. The next morning when she woke she felt for the first time a burn of desire between her legs. She longed to feel that pleasure again.