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The Profane Comedy Ch. 01

By: LateNightStories



Whenever Sarah needed time to think, she would drive up to peak-point and look at the sunset. That was where she was now. In her hand she held her mobile phone. The question she was pondering was what she should say to Adrian. They'd been on several dates, which had all been great, kinda. Now he had asked her out again, but this time he wanted her to come to his apartment. Adrian was older and he was pretty much settled with a good apartment and a profitable career. Sarah knew that this could be it. The end of adolescence and the start of adulthood. Soon, she could be pushing a baby stroller through the park.

... but was that what she wanted?

Far beneath her, she could hear the waves splash against the rocks. Many a confused teen had come here to think and had instead ended up committing suicide. It was as if the place was haunted by angsty ghosts. The wind froze Sarah to the core. Sometimes she thought she could hear voices in it.

Then something happened. The ground beneath her feet vanished. Several weeks of rain had made the soil soft, and now it was crumbling. Sarah fell. She tried to grab hold of something, but her fingers only found a hard wall of wet, slippery clay. There were 200 feet of thin air between her and the rocks below.

Just before she slid off the edge, Sarah managed to grab hold of a branch. She heard the sound of her mobile exploding against the rock below. There was no way she could get back up on her own. Below her there was nothing and in front of her there was only a vertical wall of wet stone, clay and dirt. All she could do was to hang there, suspended above the rocks that would crush her, waiting to die.

Then she heard something strange. She squinted, and through her tear-filled eyes, she saw a young boy sitting cross-legged on a tiny shelf in the cliff, playing the flute. He was completely naked. Sarah could see some of his pubic hair, but most of his dick was hidden behind his legs. There was many thing about him that was curious. His limbs were scrawny, but the flexibility of his legs made him seem athletic. At first glance, you wouldn't think he was any older than eighteen, but when he opened his eyes and looked at Sarah, she saw a depth in them that made her believe he was much older.

"You're going to die when you fall," the boy said.

Sarah was so shocked by the complete lack of empathy in his voice, that she failed to respond. The boy looked at her with interest. His eyes were peering into hers.

"How does it feel," he continued, "knowing that you'll have to leave all behind?"

"Please," Sarah begged. "Pull me in!"

It was a complete mystery to her how the boy had manage to make his way to the shelf. It seemed an impossible feat for anyone who wasn't a bird. The boy didn't even seem to have any climbing gear with him. Not even clothes to keep warm. The icy rain didn't seem to bother him much, either.

"I'm not supposed to," the boy said with extra stress on supposed, making Sarah feel that he was trying to say that he could perhaps be swayed.

"What do you mean?" she screamed.

The wind was getting stronger. Her fingers were turning into little icicles. Sarah was afraid that they would shatter if they got any colder.

"You're mortal," the boy said, sounding like he was speaking to a particularly daft child, "and therefore you are free to do what you want. For the rest of us, there are rules, constraints."

Sarah lost the grip of one of her hands. For a few seconds she was screaming, thrown back and forth by the wind, until she managed to grab hold again.

"Why are you so afraid to die?" the boy asked her. "Haven't you been a good Christian?"

"I've tried to be," Sarah stammered.

The boy shakes his head. "Ooh, that doesn't sound very confident."

"If you save my life, then I vow to do better."

The boy put his flute down, sat up and extended his arm. Sarah didn't dare to let go of the branch, so she waited for the boy to grab her and pull her to safety. 

"Wait a minute," the boy said and retracted his arm. "Why should I save you? What would I get for breaking the rules?"

"Whatever you want," Sarah was quick to shout.

"Whatever I want." The boy tasted the words. "It seems I am in a good position to strike a bargain."

"You want to bargain? For my life?"

Sarah was starting to suspect that the boy wasn't a boy at all, meaning, he wasn't human. Too much about him was unexplainable. Not that Sarah had much time to think.

"Yes, exactly," the boy said, "a bargain for your life." With a wave of his hand, he made a pen and paper materialise. "If you just sign here, please, I'll have you up in no time."

"What is that?" Sarah asked and looked at the piece of paper. There were several paragraphs of text written in red ink on it, but it was too far away for her to make out what it said.

"It's a contract," the boy answered. "It simply states that Sarah, that is you, surrenders both her soul and her body to Puck, which is me. The rest are just formalities."

"You want my soul?"

"Yes," the boy said. "You see, I think we'd have a lot of fun together, you and I. The problem, at the moment, is that you're baptised, which means that you belong to the man upstairs."

"If that is so," Sarah said, "then maybe I should just drop to my death."

The boy sighed. "Do you know where you'll go when you die?"

"Heaven?"

"Wrong! Or, you'll probably get there eventually. First you'll need to make it through purgatory."

"Purgatory?"

The boy spat. "Nasty place. Or so I've heard. You'll be roasting in the fires of your sins for a few hundred years. Maybe more."

"And what will happen if I sign?"

"You'll live. Indefinitely perhaps. I know many ways to lengthen the lifespan of mortals." He rested his chin in his hands. "You see, humans tend to think of God as good. He is not. Seriously. The devil may be worse, but God is pretty fucked up himself. There haven't been many divine genocides the last few thousand years, but still. He is a mean mother. Heaven might not be all it's cracked up to be."

The boy waved the paper in front of Sarah. She knew that she had only two choices and precious little time to decide. Using all of her remaining strength, she let go of the branch with one hand and reached out for the pen the boy handed to her. The boy gave her a mischievous smile, as he watched her scribble her name on the dotted line.

"Very good," he said. "Now maybe we should..."

Sarah never heard the rest of what he said. Her cold fingers lost their grip on the branch and she fell into the abyss. The last thing she saw was the boy jumping after her. He reached out her hand to her, but he was too late.

****

Sarah awoke to the smell of smoke and the sound of people screaming. When she opened her eyes, she saw that she was inside a thick forest on what seemed to be the slopes of a mountain. Blazing fires raged all around her and thick black smoke rose to the sky. 

There were people all around her. All of them were completely naked. Most of them were trying to make their way up the mountain. The steep hill forced them to crawl on their hands and knees through the scorched and muddy earth. Their hands searched desperately for roots or vines to grab on to. It seemed an impossible struggle. A woman came rolling down the mountain after a branch she tried to pull herself up by had snapped. 

Others seemed to have lost themselves to despair or panic. A man came running just past where Sarah lay. He was desperately trying to escape the pain of the flames that were licking at his legs. Sarah couldn't keep herself from looking at his penis, which swung violently back and forth. All in all, this was the most nightmarish scenario Sarah could possibly have imagined.

Sarah tried to compose herself. Her head was aching and her vision was blurred. The hot air was difficult to breathe. Somehow, she was able to survive the deadly smoke, which should have been practically devoid of oxygen. The heat from the flames was making her sweat terribly. As she stumbled to her feet, she felt her drenched clothes sticking to her skin. Her panties had dug themselves deep into her butt crack. She wondered why she was the only one there with clothes. All those naked people made her feel very uncomfortable. There was something threatening about being a young woman amongst so many dicks.

The high-pitched shriek of a terrified woman made Sarah put her hands over her ears. She turned around and saw a sight that should have been comical, but was instead terrifying. A large woman came running towards her at full speed, seemingly unaware of where she was going. Her large breasts were dancing in front of her. There was no time to get out of the way. The woman ran Sarah down, throwing her off her feet. Sarah landed on her back in the dirt. She felt the woman's soft bosom flatten against her face. Luckily, they served to cushion the impact.

They lay there for a while. Both of them where trying to get their breath back, but ended up coughing smoke. Sarah was a short girl and, aside from her rather plump derriere, she was quite skinny. The woman on top of her was much larger and heavier. Sarah felt like she was being crushed. Adding to the discomfort was the fact that they were both sweating terribly. The air between them was starting to get hot and damp.

In the end, Sarah couldn't take it. She kicked her knee in between the woman's thighs. This got the desired response. The woman rolled off her and Sarah was free to get up.

Now that she was back on her feet, Sarah needed to decide on what to do. Her first priority was to get to safety and away from the flames. The problem was that the fire surrounded her on all sides and it was coming closer. Some people were crawling upwards, while others were fleeing downwards. Which way do I go?

The woman grabbed her arm. Sarah turned back to look at her. She was giving her a look of desperation, as if she was pleading for Sarah not to leave her. Sarah wanted to comfort the woman and tell her it was going to be all right. That is, until she felt a searing pain in her leg. She looked down and saw that her pants were on fire, literally.

The flames were rising higher and higher around her. The withering heat was almost unbearable. Still, she realised that these flames weren't nearly as hot as they should be. If they had been, she would already have been dead. If not from the flames or the heat, then from smoke poisoning. She didn't suffocate and her skin didn't roast. There was only one possible explanation. She was already dead. This was God's punishment for her sins.

A blistering pain in her butt cheeks interrupted her train of thought. The flames were not merely touching her, they were on her. She was lighting up like a torch. The arm of her shirt caught fire and the fabric immediately began to crumble. The same thing was happening to her jeans, but at a slower pace. Sarah tried to jump up and down and hit her arms against her body, but it was to no avail. The fire had completely engulfed her now.

There were two thoughts in her mind. She needed to escape the pain and she needed to extinguish her clothes before she was just as naked as the people surrounding her were. Barely able to see her way through the stinging smoke, she began to run. There were people everywhere. Most were naked. Some were still in the process of having their clothes turned to ash. Sarah kept running into people. Sometimes she fell over them. The further down the mountain she came, the more of them there were. The sweating, naked bodies of men and women lay in piles. All were crying and moaning or screaming and shouting. 

Sarah became aware that her shirt had opened. The remaining tatters fluttered behind her as she ran. Soon, there wouldn't be anything left to hide her modesty. That idea pained her almost as much as the flames. 

There were less trees around her now and therefore less fire. If she ran just a little longer, she would be out of harm's way. 

Just as she was about to stop to take a breath, she tripped on a rock and fell forward into the dirt. Her burning clothes hissed as they came into contact with the wet mud. Sarah rolled onto her back to make sure all the flames were extinguished. There was little left of her clothes, except some smouldering tatters that looked like they could fall apart at any time. The cups on her bra were still there, but the straps were almost gone.

She tried to get a sense of where she was. Above her was a tall mountain. To reach the top, you needed to follow a spiralling road through the burning forest. It seemed incredibly high and reached all the way up to the clouds. There was a light emanating from the peak, which was painful to look at. It was not caused by the flames. It looked more like sunlight.

Around the foot of the mountain, about a mile down from where she lay, was a tall wall. Between her and the wall was a village. Beyond the wall was the ruin of an ancient city. Just outside the city stood a hill with three crosses on it. Sarah realised it must be the Hill of the Skull, where the Romans crucified Jesus. That meant that the city had to be Jerusalem, but it looked nothing like what it did on TV.

Sarah felt tears pressing against her eyes. Is this the afterlife that grandma talked about? she though bitterly to herself. Is this it? She hadn't really been what you would call a practicing Christian. Still, she had always believed that the Universe was watched over by some benevolent force. Obviously, she was wrong. This place was freakily close to something the Westboro Baptist Church could have come up with.

Climbing the mountain in hope of finding Paradise at the top seemed a daunting task, to say the least. Sarah could still hear the screams of the people being burned inside the fire, and naked body after naked body came running down the slopes. She had only one glimmer of hope, and it was a faint one. The boy, Puck. I gave my soul to him. Perhaps he can get me out of here. Anywhere seemed better to her than where she was now.

While pondering these things, she had failed to realise that her legs had sunk into the mud. She tried to pull herself up with her arms, but there was nothing tangible to push against. It only got worse once she tried to sit up. Soon, the mud had reached past her waist. She could feel the wet sand getting inside the remains of her tattered jeans. There was no way she would be able to get out of there without help. Sadly, everyone else was probably too frightened to notice her. She tried to call out and wave with her arms. The result was that her bra snapped and fell into the mud. There was no point in trying to put it on again. Instead, she wrapped her arms around her bosom and silently waited for the mud to swallow her.

If only I had gone to Adrian right away...

The Profane Comedy Ch. 02



This had not been a good day for Sarah. It seemed like she was about to die for the second time today. She was sinking deeper and deeper into murky quicksand. To make matters worse, she was practically naked. Most of her clothes had been reduced to smouldering tatters. The ashen remains of her blouse was falling off her like crusty leaves in winter. Both her arms were hugging her naked breasts, so that she could preserve some last shred of dignity before the earth swallowed her.

"Do you need help?"

Sarah looked in the direction of the voice. A tall, black woman was standing atop a big rock, holding a large piece of charred wood. Sarah was in no way attracted to women, but this girl had quite an impressive air about her. Where Sarah was short and buxom, this girl was lean and athletic. What most impressed Sarah about her, though, was how seemingly unbothered the girl was by her own nakedness.

"Yes," Sarah shouted back.

Yes, this had indeed been a strange day for Sarah. Not long ago she remembered having been hanging from a tall cliff, clinging on to a branch. Then she had seen a strange boy who warned her about the horrors of Purgatory, and who convinced her into giving him her soul in exchange for saving her. What had happened next was kind of blurry. It seemed like the boy had failed to save her, and that she had fallen to her death and ended up in Purgatory, anyway. 

The black girl threw the log into the watery mud. Sarah let go of her bosom, letting her breasts float freely in the dark waters. Dignity and modesty weren't luxuries she could afford at this time. She grabbed the log with both her hands and tried to pull herself onto it. It wasn't easy. The mud felt like tar. It was thick and sticky. The tattered remains of her jeans were holding her back. As she climbed, they began to slide off her. She told herself that it didn't matter.

Sarah looked up. There was a man standing next to the black girl. His large cock was dangling between his legs. He looked very strong. Sarah instinctively put her arms over her naked breasts, though it was actually quite unnecessary. They were by this point almost completely covered by the sticky mud.

Slowly and steadily, Sarah managed to crawl up onto the log. Squeezing her breasts with one arm, she reached out with the other. The man leant forward, but they were just out of reach of each other. Sarah crawled a little further up the charred log. As soon as she had pulled her big butt up to the middle of the log, it snapped. She fell on her stomach into the mud again. All that remained of the log were little pieces of ash.

The man squatted down and tried to reach her, but they were still too far away from each other. Sarah tried using both arms to pull herself forward through the mud, making sure that her breasts were safely hidden beneath her. It was to no avail. The mud was too heavy swim in and too soft to crawl over.

"I'll get another log," the man said and went off.

Sarah looked up at the black girl. She was smiling down at her. It almost looked like she was about to laugh. Sarah couldn't stop from breaking into a smile herself. This was such a ridiculous situation. It would have been extremely funny had it not been so tragic and scary.

The man was returning with a new to piece of wood. His chest muscles bounced as he ran and his cock swung wildly between his legs. It was none too soon. Sarah had to tilt her head back to keep it above the surface. 

Luckily, this piece of wood was stronger. Sarah pulled herself onto it with both her hands, but as soon as her breasts broke the surface, she diverted one arm to keep them from the view of her saviour. 

Now that her upper body was atop the log, she needed to pull her legs out of the mud. This was made difficult by the charred remains of her once beautiful jeans, which had now slid down to her knees. She wriggled around, trying to pull her calves out of the tight and wet denim, but they were stuck on. 

With great difficulty, she managed to crawl a little further up the log. It was tough work with only one free hand, but it was manageable. The pair on the rock smiled encouragingly at her. Sarah stretched out her arm, and this time the man was able to reach her. He pull her up, but when Sarah's big, white ass broke the surface, she screamed and shook herself free from his grasp. Her panties, the only article of clothing she had that wasn't completely ruined, had slid down to her thighs. 

The log fell back into the mud. Sarah squirmed around trying to reach for her panties, but they were below the surface and she struggled to move her legs. The pair on the rock began to snigger at the sight of Sarah's bunching white butt cheeks. The danger was gone. She was close enough for them to pull her up at any time.

Eventually, Sarah managed to find her panties with her fingers and pull them up again. They were dragging a big load of mud with them. It felt good to have some fabric around her ass and crotch. Especially since it seemed like she was going to be spending time around the naked dicks of older men.

When the black girl and the man finally got Sarah out of the mud and up to where they were standing, there was little left of the fair skinned, blonde girl. Most of her youthful marble skin was covered in black mud and there was a lot of it stuck in her hair. Sarah didn't mind. The less exposed skin she had, the less naked she felt. It was doubtful that the man had been able to get a good luck at her breasts while she was struggling around in the dirt, at least not her nipples. Still, just the idea made her pale cheeks blush. She was now hugging her ample bosom tightly.

"I get it," the black girl said. "If I still had my panties, I would do anything to keep them." She extended her arm. "My name is Mia."

Sarah didn't shake her hand. She gave Mia an apologetic smile.

"My name is Sarah."

"And my name is Pete."

Sarah looked at her saviours. They were so casual. Neither of them were making an effort to hide their privates. It made Sarah feel kind of silly.

"You're going to have to let go of your ... erm ... chest sometime, Miss," the Pete said, nodding at Sarah's bosom.

Sarah shot him a suspicious look. "I might find some clothes between now and then."

"Leave her alone," the Mia said and scowled at the man.

Pete raised his hands defensively. "I'm just saying that it will probably take a lot of work to get back to civilisation. We'll have to work together."

"Back to civilisation?" Sarah said. "There is no going back. We are dead. The only way out of here is through the fire."

Mia and the man turned around and looked at the burning mountain.

"Oh fuck," they said in unison.

A cold breeze was blowing past them. Sarah shivered. It was quite cold this far away from the burning forest. Not that she was eager to go back.

"There is a village further down," the Pete said. "We could go there and ask for help."

"That sounds like a good idea as any," Mia agreed. "I'm not going back into that forest."

Sarah nodded. It was hard to shake off the hope that there was some way to escape their faith.

"Before we go," Sarah said to Mia, "could you do me a favour?"

Sarah looked down at her legs. The tattered remains of her trousers were binding her calves together like fetters. She wouldn't be able to walk very fast without pulling them off. 

Mia raised an eyebrow. "Can't you do it yourself?"

Sarah looked down at her breasts. She was using both her hands to hide them as best as she could.

Mia sighed. "Sure," she said. "Just give me a moment."

"Maybe we can make some clothes out of the remains?" Sarah suggested.

"Not unless you know where to find a needle and threat," Mia said.

****

On a river of blood, deep in the bowels of the earth, a scrawny looking kid was laying naked upon a gondola. His legs were dangling just above the water's surface on each side of the boat. 

"So," the boy said. "At what time will we reach Limbo?"

The robed figured opposite him did not respond. Instead, he simply kept on rowing the boat onwards. 

"This is my first time here," the boy said. "I live on the material plane."

The robed man's sleeves fell back, exposing his bony fingers. They were holding the oar with steadfast determination, thrust after thrust.

The boy prattled on. "I'm here to rescue a girl that I fancy - a mortal."

The man inside the rob showed no sign that he was listening, but that didn't discourage the boy from continuing.

"I'm going to Limbo, because I think there is someone there who can help me get her back to the lands of the living."

The robed man used his oar to draw the gondola to a halt. 

"Why are we stopping?" the boy asked.

The robbed man pulled back his hood. Instead of a face, there was a naked skull underneath. Insects and worms were crawling in and out of the empty eye sockets.

"We are here," a disembodied voice said. It might have been coming from the skull's loose hanging jaw, but the boy wasn't completely sure. "This is Limbo."

"Is this really a part of hell? It looks quite nice."

The boy picked up a satchel and slung it around his shoulder. Before him lay a beautiful open meadow. There was something a little off about it, though it was undeniably nice to look at. Far in the distance, on the top of a large hill, stood a tall castle. That was where he had to go. He waved goodbye to the ferryman and started walking in long strides, humming a tune as he goes. It might have been the merriest tune ever heard in Hell.



The Profane Comedy Ch. 03



You don't often hear song in Hell. If you do, it is usually sorrowful lamentation or prayers of repentance. On this beautiful morning on the meadows of Limbo, however, a peculiar looking man-child was humming along to an old travelling tune. He had been walking through a field of tall asphodel flowers. It surprised him to find them here in the land of the eternally damned. He hoped that their beauty granted some relief to the undead.

Eventually, he decided to head back to the road. There wasn't much time for him to linger. What he wished to accomplish here had perhaps never been done before, though certainly attempted, and he wasn't yet quite sure how he should go about it. The only thing he knew was that he would need help from the inside - from someone who had been a native to the afterworld for more than 2000 years.

The weight of his task didn't stop the boy from soon becoming distracted once more. He noticed that there were other flowers along the road, not just asphodels. These were completely alien to him. Being a creature of the forest, he thought he knew the names of all the plants that grew among the trees. Not these, though. He figured that they probably grew exclusively in Limbo.

If these plants have any medical or psychological properties, the boy thought to himself, it is probably that they make those who eat them really, really bored. Not sure if I could find a use for that.

Still, he decided to collect a few. None of his friends could claim to have plant samples from Hell in their collection. 

I could probably make a fortune peddling infernal petals at the next witch's Sabbath.

He opened his satchel and put the plants into his herbarium. It lay next to his large collection of potions, hallucinogens, aphrodisiacs and philtres. He might not be a great sorcerer, but few could match his knowledge of herbal medicine and potions. 

The road was long. Luckily, the path to the castle was paved with yellow brick, so the boy always knew where he was going. Sometimes, when he was on top a hill, he could see the tall walls and majestic towers off in the distance.

There dwell the idiots who spent their entire lives living like saints and got nothing for it, the boy thought. I bet there are some angry Muslims and Hindus in there.

He came upon a small glade. A thin streak of smoke arose from behind the trees. Proof of people. Remembering that he was in Hell and thinking therefore that it could be prudent to be careful, he walked silently through the bushes on his tippy toes.

Beyond the trees was a pond with a river flowing through it. A woman was bathing in the stream. Her back was turned to the boy and the water reached to her waist, so the boy couldn't see much of her body from where he stood. She unfurled her jet black hair and it came cascading down her muscular back. Her fingers ran through the long curls like a comb. 

Silent as a panther, the boy circled around the bank of the pond. Slowly, the side of the woman's left breast came into view. The boy squatted down and moved behind the cover of some tall river grass. Now he could see the side of the woman's face. She had strong regal features and high set cheekbones. Her heavy breasts rose as she lifted her arms to untie the braids in her hair.

The woman had a small camp some way further along the bank. It was obvious that she was both a hunter and a warrior. There were pieces of armour, a javelin and a bow and quiver. Beside the fireplace lay the remains of an animal she had cooked an eaten. Her tunic hung over a branch. The boy's favourite pastime was to steal the clothes of skinny dipping mortals, and then watch them cry with shame as they returned to their human cities naked. The idea of this proud warrior showing up at the castle of Elysium with her tits hanging out made the boy very horny. He looked down into his lap and saw that his penis-head had pushed its way out of his foreskin.

"Hello there," he whispered. "I guess we haven't had time to play yet today."

He grabbed his shaft in one hand and leant back into the white sand. The soft breeze made the grass tickle his legs. Bees were brining pollen from plant to plant.

This is going to be good.

The woman's lush lips parted as she broke into song. It was a hymn. The boy raised an eyebrow.

"I sing this song to a God I never knew..."'

It is amusing how delusion people can be, the boy thought to himself. She must know that redemption is impossible once you're dead. God doesn't listen to the prayers of the lost. 

Despite his cynicism, the boy couldn't help admiring the enthralling beauty of the woman's voice. It was just as sweet as the song of the water nymphs and dryads. 

As the woman waded back towards the shore, her lower body arose from the surface. The boy was surprised to see that she was not naked. She was wearing some sort of metal contraption around her crouch. It must have been a chastity belt. The boy was dismayed at being denied a view of her sacred garden. There was a small opening at the bottom of the crotch shield, but the edges were covered with barbed teeth. You wouldn't get as much as a pinky finger safely inside. It seemed a shame for such a beautiful human specimen to live in celibacy.

This prompted a question. Do undead humans fuck? the boy thought to himself. Surely, there is no fucking in Heaven. That would have been a strange twist. Live like a puritan your entire life and be rewarded by endless orgies in Heaven. Nah, that wouldn't make sense. But here in Limbo there could hardly be a better way to pass eternity than a little frolicking in the woods.

His train of thought stopped once the woman turned his back to him and he was greeted with the sight of her firm ass. The cheeks parted and tightened when she squatted down to tend the fire. The chastity belt was held together at the back by a pair of chains that were attached together at the bottom of the front shield, went over the butt and attached at either side at the back of the waistband. 

The boy stroked his dick faster. He desperately wished that the woman would bend a little more forward, so perhaps he could get a glimpse of her rose window. The woman were trying to get a fire going by spinning a branch inside a notch carved into a log. Her ass moved in rhythm to her work. Once a spark had ignited the bed of bark, she got down on her knees and carefully blew air over the embers. Her cheeks were parted, and the boy could see right in to the pink rim around her forbidden entrance. His cock couldn't take the strain any more. Long rivulets of sperm shot from the tip and got stuck in his pubic hair. A loud groan escaped his lips.

In a flash, the woman was on her feet, grasping her javelin in both her hands. Her legs were spread and her knees were bent, ready to thrust her towards an attacker. She was surprised to find, not a demon from the depths of inferno, but a young man lying on his back with his lap covered in sperm.

The boy held his hands up defensively.

"Don't be afraid human," he said. "I mean you no harm."

That didn't seem to matter. The woman sprinted towards him, holding her spear over her shoulder. The boy screamed in terror and retrieved a flask of coughing powder from his satchel that he threw at the woman. This gave her some pause. When the woman had composed herself again, the boy was nowhere to be seen.

"Don't make me drop this."

The woman span around. The boy were standing by her fireplace, holding her tunic above the flames.

"Let's settle this like warriors," the woman demanded. There was a hint of nervousness in her voice. It was obvious that she didn't want her tunic burned.

"I would," the boy said, "but I'm not a warrior."

The woman lost her patience and threw the javelin at the boy. He screamed and jumped out of the way, dropping the tunic into the fire. Before the flames could consume it, the woman pulled it out and hit it several times against the sand. This gave the boy time to give himself a good head start. He had almost reach the cover of the trees, when the woman threw a pair of bolas at him that wrapped themselves around his legs and made him fall on his stomach.

He desperately worked to untangle his legs from the rope, while the woman went to retrieve her javelin.

"You can't kill me," the boy screamed at her. "I'm immortal."

"I can at least impale you and pin you to the ground."

The boy got on his feet just in time to dodge a thrust from the woman's javelin. He was quick. Far quicker than the woman would have believed. It had been millennia since her last fight and her skills had become a little rusted. 

The boy pulled himself up into a tree and perched on a branch. He looked mischievously down upon the angry warrior. She threw her javelin up at him and would have hit him had the weapons course not been diverted by the branches. The boy laughed at the sight of the woman's flushed cheeks. His grin quickly faded, however, when he saw that the woman was running back to her camp to get her bow.

"This has gotten a little out of hand," the boy said, before escaping behind the other side of the trunk.

"It has," the woman said, "but we're not stopping."

She already had an arrow on the string. Now she was circling the tree, looking for a clear shot. The boy grabbed his satchel and pulled out a small flask. 

"Don't force me to use this," he said.

"Whatever it is, I doubt it can harm one who is already dead."

The woman released her arrow, and it flew betwixt the branches and hit the boy in the chest. He was thrown off balance and fell backwards down to the forest floor. Unlike some of the immortal denizens of Hell, the boy's body was corporal in nature. This meant that, though the arrow couldn't kill him, it could definitely hurt him. 

The boy looked up at his enemy. She was standing over him, holding her javelin. Her nostrils were flaring with rage. In her anger, she did not notice that she was breathing in the fumes that had been released when the boy's mysterious flask had shattered. 

Just as she was getting ready to strike, the woman felt her heartrate increase. Her chest and face grew warm, and her skin became visibly flushed. It became hard for her to stand. The muscles in her thighs were spasming, and her whole body felt tense.

"What have you done to me?" she shouted at the boy.

"Something much less worse than shooting an arrow into your chest," the boy spat.

The woman tried to lift her javelin, but she found that her shaky fingers couldn't hold it anymore. It dropped to the ground. Her legs would no longer carry her. She fell down on her knees. 

The boy sat up. The arrow had lodged itself deep in his chest.

This will be a lot worse than ripping off a band-aid, he thought to himself.

He grabbed the arrow with both hands and pulled it out. The pain was indescribable. Blood spurted everywhere. Completely overwhelmed, he rolled around in the grass, screaming and whimpering. It didn't take more than a couple moments for the wound to close and his immortal skin to heal itself, but by that time he was drenched in sweat and his cheeks were soaked in tears.

Glad to be rid of the pain, he jumped to his feet and dusted himself off. Meanwhile, the woman looked like she was still be suffering her own agony. She was crawling around on all fours, sweating like a pig and breathing as if she was about to give birth. 

"It is only going to get worse," the boy said to her, "until you climax."

The woman gave her a puzzled look.

"It was a libido potion you breathed," the boy explained. "I'm guessing you're feeling some moistness between your thighs?"

It was true. The woman could feel her labia swelling behind the protective shield of her chastity belt.

The boy looked triumphant. "You need to undo that crotchbelt you're wearing and give in to your carnal instincs. If you don't, you'll pretty soon go mad with lust."

"I can't take the belt off," the woman said, wheezing heavily as she spoke. "I put it on before I went to join the siege of Troy. I'm a shield maiden of my Goddess. My purity needed to be protected."

"So you haven't got the key?"

"There is no key."

The boy groaned and leaned his face into the palm of his hand. The stupidity and general strangeness of humans never failed to perplex him.

"I can help you," the boy said. "On one condition."

"What?"

"You must swear not to harm me ever again."

"I swear!"

"That won't do it."

The boy took the javelin from the ground and used it to carve a gash in his right palm. He handed the weapon to the woman, and with shaky hands, she did the same. Then they shook hands, letting their blood mix. 

"I will never try to harm you," the woman said, "if you help alleviate my suffering."

The boy stood up, looking at the woman. He stroked his chin, trying to figure out how he was going to uphold his part of the bargain. 

"Give me the antidote," the woman screamed.

"There is no antidote. At least not in a literal sense. Tell me, are you a virgin?"

"Yes, haven't we..."

The boy held his hands up. "All right, all right. But have you ever ... erm ... pleasured yourself on your own?"

"Never," the woman said.

"Okey then. Don't worry. This would have been easier without your chastity belt, but I'm sure we can work around that obstacle."

The boy opened his satchel and retrieved yet another little flask. It held a thick, glistening fluid that he emptied into his hand.

"What are you planning to do?" the woman asked with worry in her eyes.

"Something that will feel very pleasurable," he explained. "Don't worry. You won't be able to resist."

He was right. The woman was unable to move her shaky limbs. All she could do was follow the boy with her eyes as he circled around her and squatted down behind her butt. He smeared his creamy liquid over his finger and around the rim of the woman's butthole. This was the first time the woman had been touched by a man since her father had cradled her in his arms like a baby. It was a violation of all her vows, but there was no escape. Her thighs were shaking with anticipation, and she was unable to so much as move them.

When the boy's finger penetrated into her rectum, it ignited a series of pulsating sensations throughout her entire body. Her nipples and her vulva felt like they were going to explode from pressure. Tension was building inside of her. Her heart was beating furiously. If this didn't end soon, it would kill her.

"Oh, Goddess, forgive me," the woman screamed.

"So, so. You didn't want for this to happen," the boy reminded her. "Your pagan Goddess is much more forgiving than the God that caged you in Hell."

The boy laboured on, but he was unable to bring the woman to climax. Anal stimulation wasn't really his forte. He decided to change his approach.

"It's lucky you're fresh from a bath," the he said.

He put his hands on the woman's ass cheeks and spread them apart. Her anal orifice had widened, making it possible for him to see inside. The rectum looked clean. He bent forward, like a dog into his feeding bowl, and pushed his tongue into the dark tunnel.

The woman started making horrible guttural sounds that would shame any creature walking on two legs. Then she screamed. The wails turned into a high-pitched shriek. Her body spasmed violently, and the boy had to hold her fast by her thighs. He wasn't stopping now. The woman started to gasp for air, as if she was about to suffocate. Then she fell silent. Her mouth still opened as if to breathe, but it made no sound. A glassy fluid squirted out of the hole in her chastity belt. It took a few seconds after that before the quivering in her thighs stopped. 

"I want to die," the woman said, and buried her face in her hands.

"Too late for that," the boy said mockingly. 

Both of them fell silent. The woman was too weak to move and the boy felt like he'd earned a little break. He closed his eyes and focused on the salty smell of the woman's sweat-drenched skin.

"I think you need another bath," the boy said, after an hour had passed. He looked down at his lap and saw the clotted pieces of sperm that were stuck in his pubic beard. "I think I might need one, too. The last river I passed was carrying blood rather than water."

"Leave me alone," the woman begged.

"Why would I leave you alone?" the boy asked. "I've grown quite fond of you."

The woman leapt to her feet and grabbed her javelin, but a magical force stopped her from thrusting it against the boy's chest. 

"My name is Puck," the boy said. "Put your spear down. I may not be a great magician, but a promise made in blood is a powerful thing."

The woman threw her spear away and started walking back towards the pond. Puck got up and followed after her.

"What's your name?" Puck asked.

"Maid Camilla."

"Maid Camilla," Puck repeated, imitating the woman's voice. "I'm still just a maiden - a maiden who has had her ass eaten out by a fairy."

The woman didn't answer.

"Hey. I'm sorry for all that happened. I didn't mean for any of it. I just saw you, and you had really pretty skin, and then you got very angry and ..."

The woman stepped into the pond.

"We have at least one thing in common," Puck said. "We're both quite old, are we not? You won't believe what has happened to the world since you died. The world has been taken over by bloody puritans. Not that we didn't have puritans before. Come to think of it, I guess you would be considered one of them. But I'm sure that you, like me, are feeling kind of nostalgic. Of course, as you've been stuck here, you haven't witnessed what a mess the so-called true believers have made of the Earth. No care for nature. No animal sacrifices. No ritual orgies. It's disgraceful."

Puck waded after the woman, but stopped once the water rose to his ball sack.

"Fuck," he shouted. "This is cold. Are we below some fucking glacier? Do I have to wash my dick in this? Man, I hate Hell already."