Transgirl Chrissy's Punishment in Hell is to Sexually Serve a Demon

Sissy Chrissy woke up naked in Hell.

There was no warning.

No light.

No comforting voice.

One moment there was nothing, and the next she was lying on black volcanic stone beneath a sky the color of blood.

The heat was immediate.

So was the shame.

Chrissy covered herself instinctively and looked around.

There were no clothes.

No shelter.

No walls.

No place to hide.

Only fire, smoke, jagged rock, and distant screams.

She was still herself.

Forty-seven years old. Tall. Slim. Feminine in the ways she had worked hard to become feminine, but otherwise unchanged.

Death had not transformed her.

It had exposed her.

Then the judgment came.

A voice rolled across the landscape from nowhere and everywhere at once.

"Sissy Chrissy."

She froze.

"You have been judged for the sins of your earthly life."

Chrissy looked around wildly.

"Who's there?"

The voice ignored the question.

"Your punishment has been determined."

The flames seemed to rise higher.

Chrissy's heart began pounding.

"What punishment?"

A shape moved through the smoke.

Large.

Low.

Animal-like.

Then Malachar emerged.

He was enormous, with rough blackened skin, heavy horns, glowing red eyes, clawed hands, and the hunched posture of something more beast than man.

He wore nothing.

He carried nothing.

He needed nothing.

He was simply a demon.

Chrissy backed away.

The voice spoke again.

"You will serve Malachar."

Chrissy stared at the creature.

"No."

"You will remain with him."

"No."

"You will not leave him."

Chrissy's breathing became shallow.

"For how long?"

The answer came immediately.

"For eternity."

Chrissy went still.

Malachar growled.

The sound vibrated through the stone beneath her feet.

"No," Chrissy whispered. "No, that can't be my punishment."

The voice answered one final time.

"It is."

Then it vanished.

Chrissy was left alone with the fire.

And Malachar.

Except she was not really alone anymore.

That was the point.

Serving Malachar was the punishment.

Not a castle.

Not chains.

Not torture devices.

Him.

His constant presence.

His grip.

His refusal to let her out of reach.

The loss of privacy.

The loss of solitude.

The loss of choice.

Malachar came closer.

Chrissy stepped back.

He followed.

She moved again.

He followed again.

Then he reached out and closed one clawed hand around her arm.

Chrissy pulled away.

He did not let go.

That was when she understood the sentence.

She had awakened in Hell naked, stripped of everything she had owned in life.

And for the sins of that life, she had been condemned to spend eternity serving a creature that would never leave her side.

Malachar was not merely in Hell with her.

He was her punishment.

From that moment forward, there would be no distance between them.

No door to close.

No room to retreat to.

No hour alone.

Only Chrissy.

Malachar.

The fire.

And eternity.

Sometimes Malachar's constant grip became something worse.

Chrissy learned to recognize the change in him before it happened--the way the demon's breathing deepened, the way his arms tightened around her, the way his animal-like attention fixed completely on her.

She would tense immediately.

"No."

Sometimes she said it firmly.

Sometimes barely above a whisper.

But Malachar did not release her.

What followed is better left undescribed.

Chrissy experienced those moments not as intimacy, but as another violation built into the horror of her punishment. She would turn her face toward the fire and focus on anything else--the red sky, the smoke, the black stone beneath her--trying to mentally retreat from what she could not physically escape.

Meanwhile, she could feel Malachar's fiery hot breath on the back of her neck as he inserted his long, rock-hard demonic penis into her tgirl asspussy. Her sphincter and buttcheeks would instinctively close around it and squeeze it as the demon shoved it deep inside her over and over. Chrissy could feel the wide, hard demon meat fill up her anal cavity and hit her p-spot. After rhythmically gyrating it in and out, in and out..in..in..in..getting deeper each time....the demon gave an earth shattering yell of ecstasy and blew its evil cum into Chrissy's anus. Chrissy couldn't help it but also came, also orgasmed, and squirted her semen, her sperm on to the lava floor below her.

And afterward, Malachar still held her.

There was no separation.

No private place to recover.

No distance between one horror and the next.

Only his arms around her, the fires of Hell, and the knowledge that eternity meant there would always be another day.