A tremendous weight fell upon Marcus’ chest, knocking the air out of his lungs and pinning him to his bed. He squirmed rigorously atop his sheets, but he could not move a muscle below his neck, his arms bound to his side by two slender, supple braces. Gasping for air, he opened his eyes and saw her.
“Good evening, my lovely cushion.” A naked woman sat on his bare chest, her hourglass figure looming over him in the dead of night. Crimson locks cascaded past her devilish smirk, her eyes ablaze with radiant hellfire as she devoured her victim's visage with her gaze. “Did I come at a bad time?” Her sultry voice was laced with equal parts honey and vinegar.
Marcus struggled under her immense weight. The woman stood only a couple inches taller than him, but her ass was heavier than an anvil. Bat wings poked out from her back, and a devil tail protruded from just above her rump, but worst of all were the gaping lips pointed at Marcus' nose. The demon’s womanhood reeked of brimstone, her pearl swollen and hungry.
“It's never … a bad time … when you're around.” Words escaped his throat between each gasp, his voice hoarse thanks to his deflated lungs. He had no choice but to look up at her, the demon’s face framed by her ample bosom. Marcus recently took to sleeping in the nude, the night's chill only lasting until his visitor's regular arrival.
“Flattery will get you nowhere. Tonight, I break you.” With a flap of her wings, the demon woman lifted herself an inch off his chest for but a moment before dropping her derriere with enough force to crack a rib.
Marcus grunted and smirked. “Looking forward to it.”
“You won't be for long.” The red-head scooted up to Marcus’ clavicle, kneading his chest like dough under a rolling pin, and gripped onto the back of his head, running her fingers through his short, sandy hair. She gripped his scalp tight and shoved his face into her crotch, searing his senses with her arousal. “Suffer for me. Serve my pussy like you would your God.”
Without hesitating, Marcus licked his tormentor's labia from top to bottom, getting a feel for under the hood before striking her clit. The demon woman squealed, shocked by her victim's enthusiasm and the guilty pleasure it brought her. Her cum burned hot as the broiling pits of Hades, burning the man's mouth as he lapped up the tangy nectar; and yet, he did not waver, devoting himself to getting the demon sitting on him off.
“Oh my Devil!” she screamed, humping his face as her eyes rolled back. “Don't stop! Don't stop!” Her ass smacked against his breast as she rode him like a bucking bronco, smashing his rib cage and forcing his heart to beat to her rhythm. She pressed her thighs against either side of his head, crushing his skull like a watermelon as she climaxed, seeping sweltering, sulphuric juices into his open jaw. Euphoria washed over the demon as she leaned back on her human chair. “Finally learn your place?” she asked, panting.
“Nope. I've known for a long time between your legs is where I'm meant to be.” Marcus’ face was disfigured, but metaphysical injuries never last. Sleep paralysis demons can inflict all the damage they want, but their victims always wake up unscathed. The pain is real though and remains long after the scars heal.
Veins popped in the demon woman’s forehead. The afterglow faded, making way for incensed clarity. “Stop enjoying this! I'm trying to put you through Hell here!”
“If this is your idea of Hell, then I'm about ready to break all ten Commandments.” Marcus chuckled at his wannabe tormentor's quivering scowl. “By the way, what's your name, sweetheart?”
“It's Soliloquy, you stupid jerkface!” Soliloquy vanished in a puff of smoke, removing the great weight from Marcus’ chest. His injuries disappeared with their inflicter, the lingering pain giving him a buzz. He hoped next time his demon could scoot in the opposite direction, steamrolling the sturdy tree between his legs.
******
“I hate him. I hate him. I hate him!” Soliloquy stormed through the dreary stone corridors of the Dark Prince's castle, fully naked as ever and always. The hallway windows showed a scorched landscape populated by the souls of the damned. As she trudged forward, a fly the size of a buffalo strolled up beside her.
“How'd it go this time?” the fly asked. Her compound eyes glimmered like pink gemstones. “Finally get him to scream?”
“The opposite. That tongue of his had me screaming.” As they walked, the giant fly rubbed its limbs all over herself, cleaning off any dirt, dust, or soot that stuck to her appendages. “What is wrong with me, Bedazzlebub?”
Bedazzlebub gave her friend a thousand over with her compound eyes. “It’s that smokin’ bod, girl. Your man ain’t gonna be cryin’ for mommy with a girl as fine as you on top of him, not unless you’re the one he’s crying for.”
“It’s not my fault my mom’s a succubus. Argh! Why’d she have to go and give me all her shitty genes?” Soliloquy peeked over her shoulders, checking for scrying eyes. “If I don’t figure out a way to scare the bejesus out of that fuckhead, my career is in shambles. Satan’s going to demote me to a bathroom imp if I continue to fail.”
“You try roughing him up a little? Violence may be a simple solution, but it sure is an effective one.” The demonic pair turned the corner into the mess hall, the maze of banquet tables filled with spiral horns and cloven hooves.
“I crushed his skull tonight with my thighs. It didn’t even phase him!” Soliloquy and Bedazzlebub each grabbed plastic trays and got in line. Tonight was sloppy joe night, a fact that tempered Soliloquy's bad mood. The two ladies traipsed through the line and got their food. A nupperibo in a hair net ladled a scoop of beef slop onto a bun in Soliloquy's tray. Half-inch tall mortals squirmed in the gooey, ground meat like worms in the dirt, impotent sinners punished for their gluttony, damned to an eternity of serving as another's meal. Bedazzlebub, having recently started a vegan diet, opted for a house salad instead.
The two demon women sat together at an unoccupied table, Bedazzlebub towering over her friend as she sat on the butt of her abdomen. “Then you have to take it further. Every masochist has their limits. You have to find a way to truly overwhelm him.” One sinner spilled out of Soliloquy's sandwich, attempting to crawl to freedom off the tray’s vast plastic landscape. Soliloquy snatched her up between her fingers and brought the puny woman to her lips, licking them in anticipation. “And that's how you do it.”
Bedazzlebub pointed at the hapless sinner in Soliloquy's grip, earning a raised eyebrow from her friend. “Borrow a vial of shrinking serum and force it down the poor bastard's throat. He thinks he can handle your ass now? Wait until it's the size of a dump truck.”
“Am I allowed to use that sort of magic on a living being?” The tiny woman's wailing fell on deaf ears, her struggling useless against the stalwart grip of the demoness’ fingertips.
“Anything short of permanently killing him is fair game for a sleep paralysis demon. You've got free rein, girl; whatever happens, your man will wake up thinking he suffered an extra visceral nightmare.” Bedazzlebub regurgitated a digestive fluid onto her salad, melting the lettuce and vegetable assortment into a consumable paste and slurped her dinner up through her proboscis.
Soliloquy eyed the food in her hand, imagining Marcus in the little lady's stead. With an eerie grin, she plopped the damned snack onto her tongue, sucked the woman dry, and swallowed, fantasizing that the screams echoing up through her esophagus belonged to that obstinate idiot. She picked up her sandwich and took a huge bite out of it, smattering sauce and sinners alike across her cheeks. She savored the bugs wriggling in her mouth, desperate to avoid her gnashing, monolithic teeth. Soon, Marcus would be in the same position, begging for the mercy she would never grant him.
******
The next night, Marcus laid stark naked atop his bedsheets, eagerly awaiting his regular visitor to land on his chest. Night after night of torment, his resolve never wavered. It took a miracle for him to wake up well-rested and energetic every morning, his stamina more befitting a resident of a higher plane.
And like clockwork, Soliloquy arrived with a hearty thump, deflating Marcus’ lungs and testing the fortitude of his rib cage.
“We meet again, Soliloquy.” Marcus took the initiative, looking forward to another night to remember. “You look ravishing as ever. Finally going to break me?”
“And then some.” Soliloquy held two vials in her hand, one blood-red and the other an incandescent blue. “I've come with a few supplements for this evening. Drink this.” She shoved the red vial in his face, amused by his arms pushing fruitlessly against her binding legs. “Right. Allow me.” She uncapped the bottle, positioned it between his lips, and poured every last drop of secretion into his mouth. Marcus swallowed willingly, the substance tasting of pomegranate. “That is a durability elixir. It will harden your body for what I have in store.”
“Well, that's no fun.”
“Trust me, you'll need it.” Soliloquy wiped a spilled drop off his cheek and pushed her finger past his lips to swipe it onto his tongue. “But don't worry. I was very particular with the dosage. I gave you just enough to survive within an inch of your life, enough that the pain will never fade from your memory, scarring your very soul.” She twirled the other vial in her hand, watching the bright blue liquid swirl with avaricious eyes. “Tonight, I destroy you. This time I swear.”
A pop rang out through the dark room as Soliloquy uncorked the vial. Marcus heard a fizzing sound escape from the bottle, the contents within bubbling excitedly. She reached down and pressed the glass opening to his lips, gently pouring the fizzy drink onto his tongue and down his throat.
Marcus hiccuped as he choked the last of it down. Immediately, his head felt woozy, the world around bending and stirring. Unnatural colors and shapes popped into his vision, and a great heat rose from his chest, crawling up through his throat and out from his nose. A sharp ringing stung his ears, the man unable to hear Soliloquy cackling on top of him. Her presence grew tenfold, her onlooking face overtaking his sight, her scent consuming his senses, her weight commanding his attention. The red-headed succubus became his everything, the sole sovereign of his rapidly contracting world.
Once the fog cleared from his head, Marcus looked up at his tormentor. She was no longer sitting on him, but over him, her once unimposing figure now stretching far beyond his comprehension. The bed he once lied on panned out before him, a flat expanse dipping into plush craters where Soliloquy’s knees supported her weight. He had shrunk to a hundredth of his original size, a mere bug in the demon’s presence.
“Marcus? Oh, where could you have gone?” Soliloquy asked facetiously, making a mockery of looking around the room for him. Her tremendous breasts knocked into each other as she twisted her torso, the titanic clapping echoing in Marcus’ puny ears. The woman’s enormous vulva hung over his head, her love canal tucked away behind her folds now wide enough to consume the man whole. Her taint led his eyes between the pert peaks of her rolling hills, her curves spilling out from behind her monolithic thighs.
“There you are!” Her eyes, burning with fiendish desire, peered down at the tiny man from between her monumental mammaries. She bent down and pinched his measley frame between her fingers, lifting him higher than the clouds. Holding him up to her mouth, every breath she took billowed over him like a cloud of volcanic ash, the heat as oppressive as the smell. “How’s it feel getting cut down to size?”
“Incredible,” Marcus responded without missing a beat, the pressure from Soliloquy’s fingertips on his chest not all that different from how it felt to be sat on by her each night. “Now there’s even more of you to love.”
“Grr, shut up!” Soliloquy threw him onto the mattress behind her, the tiny man crashing into the bed like a mini meteorite. It took a few seconds to get his bearings, but once he had, it took no time at all to spot the full moon illuminating the night sky. Soliloquy slapped her ass, the waves rippling through her fatty flesh large enough for Marcus to surf on. “Has this put things in perspective for you?”
Marcus sat back with a goofy grin on his face and waited for the inevitable moon landing. Looking over her shoulder, Soliloquy couldn't believe the gall of this mite. At this point, she no longer cared whether he survived or not. She'd teach him a lesson he would never forget, one way or the other.
The ginormous butt fell from the sky, descending onto Marcus with cataclysmic force. His entirety succumbed to the succubus’ thick cheek, its supple surface engulfing the tiny man, its softness undermined by its density. Marcus’ nose broke first, then a couple ribs, then his right ring finger awkwardly misplaced, then even more ribs. The durability elixir did its damnedest to keep him intact, but the weight behind Soliloquy's glorious rear proved too powerful.
Soliloquy giggled at the crunching sound emanating from underneath her. She relished the crackling sensation as she ground her ass into the mattress. She imagined how unbearably painful this must be for her victim, and though she couldn't hear any screams through the thick mound smothering him, Soliloquy was sure she'd finally achieved her raison d'etre.
After enough grinding, the demoness lifted her demon ass into the air, giving her worthless cushion a false sense of hope before slamming her heavy trunk back down, a delightful pop ringing in her ear. She lifted herself up again, the bloodied shrunken man stuck to her cheek.
“Hnngh.” Marcus couldn't move his shattered jaw, let alone form cohesive words. Bruises covered his body, most of his bones no longer connected.
“Oh no, no, no. Don't think you're done yet.” Soliloquy's devil tail wedged itself between Marcus and the wall of fat and scraped him off her skin. The pointed extremity wrapped itself around the man's meager frame and aimed him towards the target on the demon's backside. Soliloquy bent forward, grabbed her bountiful cheeks in each hand, and spread them apart to reveal the puckered hole awaiting its supper.
Before Marcus had a chance to plead or protest, the devil tail lunged forward, submerging him in the demon’s anus. The brown rim gave way for him, opening into a domain of infernal misery, a broiling pit of Tartarus reserved for the most heinous sinners.
Soliloquy pushed him in and out, tapping the edge of her rectum with his head before sending him back through the tight, circular gates. She groaned as he and her tail rubbed against her sensitive skin, molten arousal dripping onto the man's bed and singeing his sheets.
Not yet satisfied, Soliloquy sent him deeper with each stroke, pushing him past her rectum and into the colon. With a loud, earth-shattering moan, Soliloquy shoved her tail as far in as it could reach, depositing the shrunken man in her intestines.
Inside the sinewy, undulating corridor, Marcus spotted other tiny humans. After digesting in Soliloquy's stomach, the sinners from her sloppy joe regenerated in her intestines, waiting to be expunged into one of Hell's dreadful toilets. The souls of the damned huddled up along the squishy corridor walls, making the most out of the brief respite to their eternal punishment in the dim environment of the demon woman’s insides.
But Marcus did not receive a breather, not that the rancid air was even good for that, Soliloquy's tail dragging him through the colon, out the rectum, and back outside into the comparatively fresher air of his bedroom.
Soliloquy dangled the mini man before her expansive face, him hanging limply from the tip of her tail. His body was bruised, battered, bloody, and broken, every bone in his body shattered and piercing the adjacent soft parts of his organs and muscles. His breathing was staggered and his vision blurry. His mind was caught somewhere between consciousness and a tunnel leading to a bright light. But worst of all, his dick stood firm and erect, a sticky white substance dripping from its head.
“Are you fucking shitting me?! You're on death's doorstep! I so much as poke you and you'll crumble to dust. This is impossible. No mortal man can be this masochistic!”
“You're not … wrong … there.” Marcus' words squeaked through his shattered jaw, each one inflicting him with further pain. To his surprise, his tormentor started crying.
“I hate you. Do you know what they'll do to me for failing to terrorize my charge? I'm going to have to clean toilets for the rest of my existence. Can you even fathom how disgusting the toilets in Hell are?!” Soliloquy weeped into her hands, releasing her grip on Marcus. The man didn't move, floating upside down in the air before her.
“I could help you avoid such a fate,” he said, the pain absent from his voice. “It'd be the least I could do to compensate you for all the entertainment you've provided me.”
In a blinding flash of light, all the wounds vanished from Marcus’ body, and a pair of dove wings sprouted from his back.
“You're an undercover angel?” Soliloquy asked, wiping the tears from her widened eyes.
“You may call me by my true name: Villanelle. I am, in fact, an angel; one who has fallen for his temptress.” The angel radiated with a golden aura, his form still tiny as he spoke with the demon woman.
“You fell for … You mean I've corrupted you? I've corrupted a real angel?!” Soliloquy bit her hands and screamed. This was the best news of her immortal life. “Corrupting a heavenly angel is the greatest accomplishment a demon can achieve. Satan will promote me to his court. I'm going to be rich!”
“And as a fallen angel, I will be made a general of the Dark Prince, meaning we will be spending a lot of time together.” Villanelle winked, holding his arms out to showcase his angelic bod.
“Are you asking me out?” Soliloquy stifled a laugh as she gave the puny man a once over. His visage belonged on the Sistine Chapel; his physique appeared carved from marble, if a bit short at the moment. She looked down at her crotch, still slick with cum as it had been every night prior. “Alright. I'll give you a shot, my little cherub. But if you cheat on me, then I'll shove you down a chasm so deep, you won't even see the light from your halo.”
“I wouldn't dare.” Villanelle threw his arms up in mock innocence. “The only chasm I want you shoving me in is yours.”
“That can be arranged. In fact, I just came up with the most wonderful idea.” Soliloquy grabbed her new beau with her tail and pulled him back towards her gargantuan rear. “I'm going to roll up to Lucifer's throne with you held snugly in my rump, and then I'll spit you out to show him the angel I caught. We'll have the whole court laughing!”
Soliloquy didn't wait to hear Villanelle's opinion, stuffing him up her ass where they both desired him be.
The two would go on to each earn positions among the devil's elite. They dated for a few years until Villanelle popped the question, to which Soliloquy responded with a resounding yes. Their wedding was held in the fields of Asphodel, and Bedazzlebub served as the maid of honor. Eventually, the two would buy a timeshare overlooking the lake of blood where they lived horribly ever after. The end.