Summary:
Libby is taken to the Underground for conditioning.
Notes:
The internet is saturated with hentai, but I'd venture to say 95% of it is for men. I don't mean smut, I don't mean spice, and I don't even really mean erotica. I mean straight up soul-black hentai for us ladies. Men are welcome too, of course, but please know this content is not written for the male gaze.
Anyway, welcome to level three. If I'm going to lose or trigger anyone, I suspect it's going to start happening right around now. These aren't empty warnings, so please do enter at your own risk.
Quick check-in: Have you gone outside and spent at least 15 mins in the sun today? Either way, be kind to yourself and take it one day at a time.
Please check back regularly for new chapter uploads. I'm looking for beta readers for this series, so please forgive any typos or mistakes. Want to beta read? Send me a DM.
Oh, did I mention this series is going to end in a HEA? I only mention that because it's going to seem impossible as we go, but I promise it will happen.
See you soon!
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Ch. 03 - Into the Abyss
Everything was still spinning when they emerged on the other side. Reality snapped into place in pieces, reattaching like trillions of shifting pixels. They stood in the center of a stone circle, a series of dark portals positioned around them every few yards like numbers on a clock.
The sky was a bright orange, dotted with swaths of pitted black asteroids that hovered like oblong moons. They formed a meandering belt, the superstructure extending all the way from one horizon to the other. Libby wondered with morbid fascination if the massive thing wrapped around the entire world because clearly, she wasn't on Earth anymore.
Before they'd leapt through a portal on the side of a mountain, before she'd been carried through a frigid tundra while naked in Galen's arms, she'd already started to accept the existence of the inexplicable. Life as she understood it had already been fucked out of her by Galen and Fenrow's guards and their unnatural cocks. This sucked, sucked a lot, but the sooner she accepted her situation, the faster she could get her mental legs underneath her and figure out a plan.
Even if she had no idea where to start.
The moment they'd arrived in this world, Galen's appearance had drastically changed. His ears were pointed, his skin darker, an ashen gray that made him appear as if he had been hewn from stone. Textured horns snaked from his raven locks, forming a jagged circlet that resembled a broken crown. The sclera of his deep-set eyes had been completely overtaken by inky pools, a diamond-shaped pupil floating in the middle of each orb. They glowed an electric white, and it felt like the bright centers scored past her flesh and penetrated straight into her soul.
She broke eye contact, unable to hold his alien gaze any longer. She had no idea how she'd missed it, but Galen had changed out of his posh clothes and into dark trousers that hugged his muscular thighs, along with a sheer white fitted shirt that left little to the imagination. Libby's earlier suspicious about his unreal physique were more than confirmed. Hell, she could make out his obsidian nipples under the fabric.
A winding staircase had been cut into the side of the scarred mountain, and he took it several steps at a time, his clawed hands curled possessively around her body the entire time. Galen also seemed much… bigger than he'd been before, which was a feat in and of itself. She was at least another foot away from the ground, which had to put him somewhere just under the unreal height of eight feet.
Once they crested the narrow ridge, they emerged atop a great plateau. An enormous fortification had been erected at its center, the otherworldly architecture a forbidding cross between a fantastical castle and a domineering fortress. Unlike the bleak, craggy landscape around them, its bricks were a shining white and multiple golden spires thrust like needles into the burnt orange atmosphere.
A cobbled pathway led directly to the front entrance, capped by a massive set of golden doors at the far end. They were etched with an elaborate inlay, and it took her several moments to realize what she was looking at. An obligatory interest in the fine arts had rubbed off on Libby after years of working in the library system, and the name of the piece came to her almost instantly. It was a relief of The Banquet of Cleopatra by Tiepolo, the famous (and notorious) queen's regal arm extended across a lavish table towards an ensorcelled Mark Anthony.
A row of figures wearing hooded scarlet cloaks framed each side of the pathway. Like the guards in the van, none of them spoke as Galen walked past. Like the guards, she caught hints of features that were far from normal. One with wisps of shadowy smoke that emanated from within its hooded opening like snakes, too many blinking, glowing eyes from inside the hood of another. The most horrifying of them emitted a clicking noise from its throat like a predator straight out of science fiction, the sound stirring images of lightless pits and gnashing teeth.
Galen carried her into the fortress, through the interior portcullises and into a lavish foyer. They traversed the too-decadent corridors, the walls a rich mahogany, fine oil paintings and sculptures—that looked to be priceless originals—lining the walls.
They entered a central garden, and Libby's eyes nearly bugged out of her skull as she took in a great fountain that rose three stories above the courtyard. It shot into the unreal ochre vista, the water a rippling liquid gold. All around, flowering bushes, fully grown fruit trees, and soft grasses sprawled in every direction, a rectangular enclosure of frosted glass window panes framing it on every side.
Towards the far end, the garden opened up into section of flagstones. A wooden door stained with ominous streaks was recessed into the far wall, and Galen's pointed steps made it clear that was where they were headed.
Libby didn't even have a chance to start panicking before Galen stepped right through it, and they entered a dim corridor on the other side. Scarred bricks lit by wrought iron sconces curved all the way down, and Galen took her down the stairs until they entered the heart of a sprawling underground prison.
It was impossible to fully determine its scale, but it was enormous. They had to be hundreds of feet below the surface at least. Libby couldn't even make out the ceiling. Cages hung from the impenetrable gloom on heavy chains, some empty, some not. She didn't inspect their inhabitants too closely, instead training her eyes on the collar of Galen's starched shirt.
Libby could feel his burning eyes on her now, likely gauging her reaction. She refused to give him one, keeping her face neutral and her muscles loose. There was little she knew about this place, but she knew showing fear here would only make her situation worse.
They descended to a point where the walls and ceilings were only a few feet above their heads, far removed from the hanging cages in the main antechamber. Rows upon rows of poorly lit cells extended into the murk, a line of guttering torches spaced at uneven intervals.
Eventually, Galen came to a stop. Libby's heart seized with anxiety as he ducked under the barred entrance and strode into an empty cell. Three walls enclosed her in coarse stone, slatted bars forming the fourth side. A sconce from the hallway spilled some light into the cell, but the damp room was still dark and no less cavernous. He placed her naked body, still filthy from the cum of his henchmen, on top of a padded leather hide near the row of bars.
"Sit up, and open your mouth."
They were the first words he'd spoken to her since the library, and her body jerked with trepidation. She stiffly rolled up on her knees, tucking her feet under her backside. Her position increased the pressure on the plug, which she'd somehow managed to forget about during the journey. Before she could adjust her position, a massive hand went around her throat, strong fingers overlapping at the back of her head. Her hands fisted at her sides as she fought to remain calm, even though all she wanted to do was scream.
She complied, hesitantly opening her lips just a little.
"Wider."
Her hands had started to shake, and she tucked them between her thighs, not wanting him to see.
She grudgingly let her mouth fall open a little more, and Galen's fingers dipped into her hot interior, pulling out her tongue.
"Keep that there," is all he said as he opened the buttons to his trousers.
Nothing could have prepared Libby for the monstrosity he released from his pants. It was so far from human anatomy, so freakishly excessive, that it made the twisted cocks she'd taken for hours seem normal by comparison.
The crown was a crimson head that split in two like some fleshy beak. The rest of his cock was a dark charcoal against his slate skin. A steady stream of off-white fluid leaked from the split tip in a viscous line and pooled on the ground at his feet. All Libby could do was stare. God, how could this be real?
He slicked himself in his precum and stepped closer, swiftly palming his hand along his shaft. It was comprised of three main segments, a ridge separating each one, the widest part of his girth flaring towards the base. Two thick veins ran down either side of his length, the alien biology following every sinuous dip and curve.
That hadn't been the cock that'd... that'd taken her the first time. That one had been much larger than average, but it had been nothing like this. She would have known.
Galen's jaw tightened, the quick rolls of his wrist increasing in speed as he jerked off above her open mouth without an ounce of shame. His upper lip was pulled back from his teeth and revealed rows of gleaming fangs, another feature that hadn't been there before.
She could barely focus, couldn't think about anything else other than how far she was below the earth, how many layers of stone were above her head.
How far away she was from home.
A draft blew through the eerie cell, carrying with it a myriad of distant cries tinged with agony and fear. She swore she could smell the sickly sweet scent of terror, the cloying tang of their pain.
Tears threatened to spill over, but she held them in. Her eyes reluctantly flicked back to the engorged behemoth Galen was manipulating. His pumps were coming even faster now, and he gripped himself harder when he got to the head, squeezing the drooling cum through the gaps of his fingers.
His chest rose and fell with his anticipation, but his expression remained severe, his disturbing eyes drinking in her kneeling form.
"Stick out your tongue more for me, little slut," Galen grunted, and she could do nothing but comply.
Thick globs of cum rushed from his tip, plopping onto her tongue one at a time. It was nearly blistering, not unlike drinking coffee that was a few degrees too hot. Earthy notes twined with something that her tongue suddenly registered as spicy, and Libby's stomach lurched against her will.
"If you vomit, I'll leave you down here to rot even longer. Do you understand me?"
Libby swallowed, eyes watering from the peppery flavor. It wasn't gross per se, but it was almost heavy, a consistency that flowed like a liquid and settled like a solid in her stomach.
A moan from the cell across snapped her back into her body, and she heard the distinct sound of liquid spilling onto the floor, followed by a deep, breathy grunt.
Horror and embarrassment flooded her senses, but Galen only laughed, the sound not unlike the dry rustle of leaves over a deep bass.
The split head had begun to recede into a flexible pocket of skin, but Galen slid it forward until it was peeking out again.
"Clean me," he said without inflection.
Libby froze. For just a second, she considered biting him, but then she decided against it. Enraging her captor within the depths of a subterranean prison in an alternate dimension or planet or wherever the hell she was, would be a very, very bad idea.
She was reluctant at first, tentatively swiping her tongue across the spongey head, very aware that she was likely being watched from the cells across and the dozens recessed into the wall just above. They would have a bird's eye view, could likely see everything since Galen had positioned her so close to the bars. A quick glance up at him showed a brooding impatience in the downward arch of his brows, and she pushed herself to be more bold, lapping between the folds of the pronged tip.
"Welcome to your new home." Galen said, his voice pitched low. "The Underground will teach you humility and ensure your gratitude for the life you will have if and when you earn the right to leave."
Libby couldn't imagine a place worse than this one. He couldn't leave her here. She couldn't do this. He couldn't do this. Not here, not in this place where the forgotten were left to rot.
"Please," she croaked, her voice rough from disuse. "You can't leave me here. I—" She swallowed past a lump in her throat and pushed forward. "I can't do this. I'll do anything, so please—"
"Your cell will remain locked," Galen continued as if she hadn't spoken. "No matter who comes to visit you, you mustn't leave this room under any circumstances. Even if they claim to be me or my brother, do not invite them in. Why have you stopped cleaning my cock, human?"
She jumped a little at the harshness of his tone, and resumed her task. There was no way she could even get the first segment into her mouth, but she tried her best to fit as much of the tapered end as possible, suckling at the underside where residual cum still dripped from between the two spurs. She risked a glance up at him, where the glow from his eyes illuminated the curve of his cheekbones, highlighting every cruelly sculpted contour.
"Just because you're in this cage doesn't mean you'll be safe. I suggest you keep your head down and avoid the other prisoners. Knowing you, I wouldn't be surprised if you bared your cunt at the first opportunity. But remember this: if your only viable hole gets soiled, this place will become your very new, very permanent, home."
This guy was fucking insane.
"So I suggest you keep that plug in as a deterrent."
Her stomach did a flip at that. A deterrent for what?
Galen suddenly grabbed her by the throat, and she staggered to her feet to take the pressure off her windpipe. He leaned down and planted a punishing kiss on her lips, an overly long tongue invading her mouth and swiping across her teeth.
Libby shoved against his chest, abruptly breaking the contact.
"What about the 'rite' you kept talking about? I thought that's what you brought me back here for, not to imprison me!"
Galen leered down at her. "Looking forward to your big day already? How earnest. Unfortunately, your rite is still months away."
She staggered back, heels digging into the floor until her back slammed against the nearest wall. His full lips pulled back from his teeth, and he flashed her a generous view of those wickedly sharp fangs. She prayed, oh how she prayed, that they didn't eat people here too.
"One last thing," he said, and she swore the glint she saw in his eyes was pure, distilled evil. A clawed fingertip pointed at a four inch by four inch cutout in the rock wall at her back. "I hope you enjoyed your first meal in Hell. For as long as you remain in the Underground, cum is all you will eat. Starve, if you want to. Resist nourishment, if you think that makes you feel like you're putting up a fight. But if you go too long without eating, you'll die. We can revive you if you're ill, but there's nothing we can do if you're dead." A shrug, followed by a slow roll of his shoulder. "Either way, the choice is yours. Anyway, I have some business I must attend to. See you in a few months, Libby."
Without another word, Galen strode out, the barred gate slamming shut behind him. Libby surged to her feet, begging him not to go, pleading after him until tears streamed down her face and her nose ran in rivulets.
He didn't stop walking, and he didn't come back.
Hysterical, despondent, incredulous, angry. She looped through each emotions several times, each one often bleeding into the next or piling up all at once.
Presently, she was huddled against the wall, but had moved towards the back where the eyes directly across the hallway would have a harder time seeing her. She'd wrapped herself in the leather coverlet, both for warmth and a modicum of privacy, but it did little to fend off the pervasive chill. Much to her conflicted chagrin, Galen's seed sat warm in her belly, radiating hot pulses not unlike the burn of distilled spirits.
Despair filled the hollow where her fear also lived, and she tried very hard not to think. Thinking meant she would remember what had already been done to her in such a short span, thinking meant she would dwell on where she was, and she did not want to do either of those things.
Despite her efforts not to think, every scrape and groan made her jump. The distant screams of the suffering traveled through the hallway, the walls, even the ceiling above, reaching her ears in a chorus of faint cries.
This place felt like a crypt. Worse, because she could feel the air crawling across her skin. It was like an invisible haze lingered around her, a semi-sentient presence that touched her everywhere. It sounded crazy. Was crazy. It could've been entirely in her head, this was, after all, a place where the tortured and the abandoned were likely driven to insanity.
Alone for the first time, Libby let her head fall back. It'd likely been less than twenty-four hours—that is, if time worked the same way here as it did on Earth—since she'd been taken. Even though she'd lived nearly thirty years of her old life on Earth, the past day had felt longer than all of those years combined.