To Hell

Dying was a nuisance.
Going to hell was just the icing on the cake, but a) I would have preferred not to die in the first place and b) it was expectable. Especially when it comes to superbia, even Old Nick himself can learn from me. Loser.
Speaking of Old Nick, he made me the laughing stock of his underlings. "Look at this wimp!" he cackled. (Unfortunately he had a point. It was much more my style to get sand kicked in my eye.) "He's so harmless that our devilette trainees can have fun with him!"
Harmless? Physically a wimp, I grant you that, asshole, but harmless? Now I'm pissed. I'll show you who's harmless.

"I opt for the classic! Cauldron, heat slowly to 1000°F." The devilettes giggled about the look of horror on my face...which was purely due to someone using non SI units.
"Nah, first rip out the fingernails."
"Prong-poke!" A devilette used my ass for target practice. "OW!" I prompted. Being a natural supergenius, I already made a few scientific hypotheses. Whatever remains of you when you die is definitely no body in the physical sense. It's more like an agreed-on mass hallucination. How should a mass hallucination be able to sense pain? Belief makes it real, as the constant cries of torment from my surroundings showed. I really didn't need that. Just for experiment, I tried to believe the next poke would actually hurt me..."OWOWOW!!!"
OK, that was totally unnecessary, but that's what you call "suffering for science".
"This will be such fun. And look at this baby weener! We need a microscope to torture it!" Now that I took personal. If I would have been in the right mood (those devilettes would have won any beauty contest - if you don't object to horns, wings and hooves - I personally love wings, if they don't get in the way during sex), I would have scared them to death with my erection. Well, time to test a little reverse psychology on you lil furry furies.
"For pissing it suffices! Sex is overrated! Science rules!"
"What? You don't dream of getting into our tight vagoos?" "Pshaw! Look at your ugly hairy twats! If I had to lick them, I would have to spit out more hairballs than Garfield!"
OK, that was a bit cruel, I try to keep misogynism away even from devilettes, but it fulfilled it's purpose. I speculated that "horny devils" was not a mere figure of speech. I speculated correctly.
The leaderess of the evil bunch took my head in a leglock. "Lick! Lick if you don't want that I rip off your head and stuff it into your ass...AAAAAH!" Surely I licked. Music soothes even the savage beast, but for devilettes I recommend cunnilingus. If I imagined my tongue had the powers of a vibrator, my tongue HAD the powers of a vibrator. In less than a minute, she threw all fours into the air. I really recommend cunnilingus for turning your girlfriend into your slave.
"Now don't say everyone of you..." Of course everyone of them, suckers. When the last of the devilettes fell, the first wanted second servings. "My head is getting stiff!" "No rest for the wicked...AAAAAH!"
It was quite a puzzle to time their orgasms in a way that each and every devilette passed out long enough at the same time. Good that I heard "Nonlinear Optimization 101A". Now fast acting was a must. I already had spotted a locker labeled "BDSM Surplus". Password? 666. Good grief. Protip: 666 is a password only in name. Amateurs. Hooray, the locker was amply filled to tie up and gag all of them. Luckily I was done with the job just as they all regained their senses.

"MMMPF! MMMHHH!" they all mmmpfed. But there was no escape. They hung down from the ceilings with their hands tied above their heads, legs pairwise shackled to form a circlejerk, and even assuming they could bring up the strength to physically rip their ties (Vampirella pulled that stunt often enough), a vibrator (complete with a "nose" to torment their clits, and a bulge so their vagina walls had to clasp around it and no squeezing out - yay hell lockers porn surplus). "Hope you enjoy an eternity of orgasms!" I said gleefully.
The cute blonde, which I immediately recognized to be less evil than the rest (she hadn't made a single suggestion of bodily grievance yet), was lying on the floor, of course also safely tied and plugged, but not gagged. "Oh God! Oh God!" she screamed when she saw my full erection. "I don't think you are allowed to take His name into your pretty mouth. Here, take something else!" "GLGL!" I never imagined to try that stunt on a mortal woman, lest she might suffocate or drown, but I guessed devilettes were immortal anyway. Also, they might bite. This devilette was tamed enough by the vibrator and returned me the favor by using her throat for a vice grip around my dick and using her vocal chords as a vibrator on me. Quite satisfying, I thought when drowning her in cum (metaphorically, cf. above). Then I gagged her too, lest she might have the idea to cry for help between two orgasms. Now it was time for further escape plans.

I peeked outside the cave. Two suspension bridges (labelled "In", "Out" - of course hell loves bureaucracy) of the "Fall to your Doom Fast" variety so beloved in cheap flicks. Downwards a suspicious green ooze smiled at me. I crossed the "In" bridge (take that, hell) as quickly as possible, since the planks creaked suspiciously under my steps, the one or other breaking. Just when I made it safely, the ropes snapped. "Boring", I said to noone in particular, referring to the cliche. "So true, mortal." Now the suspicious green ooze really smiled at me. "Not much traffic here, eh?" I encouraged it. "You say it, bro. A few hundred years ago, I got my daily feed of damsels for slime-raping. You should heard their orgasm screams. But then the management decreed it wasn't so much of a torture." "You mean, being forced to enjoy rape is a much more subtle psychological torture than a prong in your ass?" "Great minds think alike, bro!" "Say, are you oriented gender-wise..." "You mean, raping men? Now that would be sooo gay!" "No offense meant." "None taken." "And how about a devilette..." "Oh, I so would like to taste the sulphurous aftertaste of their dripping pussies!" "Guess what, I think I have an appetizer..."
"MPHMPH!" the blond devilette mphed in a mix of panic, bliss and mph as I let her drop to her orgasmic doom. Quickly the ooze entered all her orifices. "So my specialty is flooding their lungs and entering their bloodstream. Each single cell of her body will be brought to orgasm!" Frankly, I wasn't that interested in technical details and mumbled "Lust is distributed so unfairly..." "That's life, bro, live with it. RHA-LOVELY!"

I didn't know whether oozes could have orgasms too, and how intensive they were, but his yelling surely attracted unwanted company. As fast as I could I ran back over the "Out" bridge (take that, hell), hoofbeats quickly following. Two uniformed hell maidens of the Ilsa-of-the-SS-should-sue-for-copyright-infringement went after me. Luckily, I had some head start. "Hey, schweinhunds! This is the Out bridge! You are supposed to take the In bridge!" Hell Nazi police obviously had the IQ of normal Nazi police and confusedly stopped for a while to ponder my statement.
Do not ponder on a no-ponder bridge. Even worse, if you weigh about double of my weight, and I'm not exactly lithe, you shouldn't ponder at all. The ropes snapped almost instantly.
Well, I cede it to them, they managed to grab the rest of the ropes so they didn't go down vertically. It didn't make a difference. The ooze reached out with its tentacles, and seconds later, they were orgasming meat. "Mmmh, such a delicate whiff of chlorine! Relax, all your worries are over now!" "Meh, judging from the incoming ruckus our worries might just begin...Say, are you good in art?" "Now that you mention it, my 'Slime Paintings' were quite the fad." "In this case, let's pull a Wiley Coyote!" "A what?" I explained. Slime dude giggled.

And there the whole Hell Security Personnel stormed onto the scene. "Yoo-hoo! Here I am!" It stormed right into the illusion that Slime dude painted. Hell landscape, in green on green with some shades of green thrown in, but they were red with anger and didn't look for details. They made a splash, so to say. Good that the personnel of this Hell Circle was female only. I dragged out the rest of my own torturer-wannabes and added them to the Big Orgasm Bowl. "Here, have some infinite bliss for the next millennium. Level clear." "I owe you some. Call me if you need a helping tentacle. OOOH YEAAAH BABY!"

Now I had somewhat of a problem, with both bridges out...wait. Since when are mass hallucinations subject to gravity? I declared I could fly. Bingo. I'm so fuckin' brill.
I peeked around the next corner. Uh-oh, Level so not clear, the end boss awaited me in the form of an office door yelling "ASTAROTH - BIG BOSS - ABANDON ALL HOPE OF GETTING OUT AGAIN IN ONE PIECE UNLESS IT IS REALLY, REALLY URGENT!" (The second "REALLY" was capsed all-caps. Don't ask.) I hammered against the noise-isolation. "WHAT THE FU..." Astaroth stepped out of the door. Whoa, she was a real Hoover dame. Luckily, I'm quite tall too. I applied the Bag-A-Damsel-Sack (hell knows where I organized it) over her head and chest. Of course that could incapacitate her only for seconds, but only seconds were needed to apply the "Woman's Best Friend XXL - Guaranteed to vibe HER into coma". For once, the ads didn't lie. One minute later, she was so tamed that I even could extract it (with a bit of effort - her pussy didn't want to let it go) and fuck her through. Can devilettes get pregnant from dead souls, I shortly thought while cumming into her throbbing vagina walls. Very improbable. Anyway. After I was done with her, I sacrificed her to the Slime God. She almost regained her senses before she went down for eternity. That was close. Stupid me, should have replugged her with the vibrator to be on the safe side.

The screaming background noise continued even without hell personnel. I decided to investigate. Whereever I went, I found only tortured women. Old Nick, you put me in a women-only zone? Now this means war. "Mercy! OOOW!" this one screamed. I pulled the plug of her device. A nearer inquiry yielded that she had been punished for being a nag in life (huh?) and got an electric shock for every word she said. "And if you simply had kept still in hell? I mean, there is noone to talk to anyway!" "What?" Oh. Right. Psychological torture. I didn't even bother to elaborate on the concept of silence and went to the next torture cells where the victim had to park a car. The next one had to solve math problems. I was slowly getting pissed at the amount of cliche.
"You are all free to go!" I screamed and opened all doors. "There has been a change in management!" All the girls stormed out. "Wait, not necessarily in that dir..."
But which woman will ever take advice from a man. One minute later I could hear a lot of splashes followed by short squeals, and some slimy voice yelled: "THANK YOU! But no more or it might get too much!" I shrugged. So they would be prisoners for eternity again. But only with more fun.

And then I had another Nobel-worthy idea. My body...it was sheer mental lazyness that it looked like in lifetime. Maybe if I could...of course I could if I just believed.
"Pal, I can relieve you from a few girls temporarily. Will you hand me this one...and this...and this?" (I had soooo much choice to custom them to my sense of beauty.) Mr. Slime was happy to be of assistance.
And then I experimented a bit. Even Beast Boy would have been jealous. The girls definitely didn't complain. If you believe you can give them helluva infinite orgasms, then etc.
Only that I couldn't feel anything than a slight nice twitching of my monstercocks. Bummer.
I decided I could as well take up my old life. I noticed a certain lack of computers, chess boards and interesting scientific problems in Hell. So, where was the bloody exit? Sighing, I resumed exploration mode.

The End...of part 1...part 2 to be written when hell freezes over