The Final Bwa-Ha-Ha 4

Baal-Satyr remembered the sight of Bea’s beautiful tits, his mind rushing back eagerly to some of his favorite pictures from Bea’s OnlyFans. Even if she’d only posed naked to the waist, and with her hands covering her breasts, this was clearly a woman ripe for corruption. She would give into him as Diana never had, growing addicted to his cock, begging for his love—not holding herself aloft as the Amazon always did after her orgasms.

He brought Bea’s halter lower. The rounded fullness of her breasts peeked over the top, still in the overflowing cups of her bra. Baal-Satyr leaned close to her, so close that she felt his hot breath on her chest, and he finished pulling her halter down around her waist with the first-rate view of her breasts that he’d always wanted. Now Baal-Satyr dropped his face into them, his tongue snaking wetly into the rich cleavage between her ample breasts.

“Ay, Dios Mio, now there’s foreplay—!” Bea mewled in disgruntlement. “Just put it in already, cabron!”

Suddenly Baal-Satyr’s face was just about headbutting hers and she shuddered while he heaved with rage, his breath surprisingly sweet, like he’d just had a Tic-Tac. “You listen to me, puta! This is the afterlife you earned, got it? If you don’t like it, you can spend a few millennia as Cerberus’s chewtoy! Got it?”

“Y-yes… yes!”

“Then start showing some appreciation or the deal’s off! I can find a warm body anywhere—this place invented warm! I want a woman! The woman I know you are! And you’ll give me all of that woman or you and your friend are Hellhound Chow!”

Bea gulped. Should’ve known I couldn’t boss him around like usual. This is Hell, after all. Still, what a man… such machismo… with some nicer clothes and the right haircut, maybe…

Bea cursed herself. What was she doing? This wasn’t The Bachelorette! And if there was anyone she couldn’t fix, it was a literal demon!

But it was hard for her Latina mind not to appreciate someone as muy macho as him. Especially from a man who clearly wasn’t compensating for anything. And he didn’t think her ass was flabby…

“Lo siento,” Bea said. “I’m sorry. But if you knew the men I was used to dealing with… Blue Beetle… Guy Gardner… Guy Gardner…”

“You said Guy Gardner twice.”

“That’s how bad he is!”

“I haven’t spoken of Wonder Woman; let’s not talk of this Gardner…”

Baal-Satyr returned to the relished task of undressing Bra, unhooking her bra and guiding its slow slide down her arms…

“But just so you know, it’s not the same thing!” Bea said quickly. “Diana is an old girlfriend, fine, but Guy and me, we never… okay, one time, but Tora had just died and I wasn’t thinking straight…”

“Shh, my sweet,” Baal-Satyr breathed to her. “Now is a time for a woman to be felt and not heard.”

Bea felt herself clench. Maybe she did deserve to be in Hell… no way a male feminist would ever do this to her.

Her bra fell from her wrists to the floor and Baal-Satyr kissed both of her supple breasts, lifting them with his palms and squeezing them while he hotly licked her stiffening nipples.

Bea almost swooned from the vile, yet voluptuous sensation of Baal-Satyr’s thick tongue licking the sweat from her breasts. She wanted to cry, to plead for him to stop—and another part of her, a darker part of her, wanted it to continue. Why not indulge herself so long as she’d found a degree of fortune in being paired off? He was going to ravish her, certainly… was it madness to hope that it was at least a good ravishing?

Baal-Satyr opened the button in front of her pants and slid the zipper downward. His long fingers worked inside of her pants, to stroke the silken sheerness of her panties, and he grinned nastily at the thought of shucking them down her long legs just as he’d removed her bra, seeing her naked body with no flames to obscure its golden-hued perfection.

He tugged her pants down over her juicy hips and they dropped to her feet like a flag being taken down in surrender… unconditional surrender.

Baal-Satyr knelt at her feet on the plushly carpeted floor, his fingers now delightedly toying with the elastic of her thin panties. He drew them down, exposing the expectedly shaven mound of her pubis, scant inches from the brute ugliness of his own face.

The sweet womanly smell of her filled his nostrils and Baal-Satyr licked his lips in eager anticipation. He moved forward until his nose was almost inside her, receiving her heady perfume, smelling her arousal as he forced her panties even lower. They reached her knees while he dragged his lips along her groin, feeling the slightest tickle of what little pubic hair had grown since her last waxing.

Bea moaned shamefully and nearly fainted from the overwhelming humiliation of the moment. Baal-Satyr had her more and more naked and now, in his first feint at her passion, his lips were touching just inches from the unprotected opening of her womanhood!

“Caramba, what would my mother say?” Bea asked. And who would’ve thought she’d ever find more oral sex in Hell than she did in Gotham… Midway City… Gateway City…

Bea trilled in surprise with clawed fingers settling on her hips and Baal-Satyr’s mouth pressing tightly to her labia. Kissing her sex with a fervency that sent rippling spasms through her folds and deep into her belly. Pleasure mingled with shame, recalling the taboo excitement of her first stolen kisses and teenage gratification… how good it had felt to do what good girls didn’t do… and it couldn’t get more forbidden than this. This was what good girls didn’t even think about.

“Si, si…” Bea murmured, without awareness that she was speaking. “Goodness, your tongue!”

Of course, if she were thinking clearly, she’d know goodness and Baal-Satyr’s tongue had nothing in common.

His next tonguing caress stole all strength from her body. She fell back, weak as a kitten, clutching at Baal-Satyr’s unbound hair in a gesture that was as much an attempt to defer her pleasure as it was to break her fall.

She toppled into one of the chairs at the long table that ran the length of Baal-Satyr’s hall and it broke her fall. She rebounded and dropped to the floor. Baal-Satyr came down on her like a dog sicced on a fallen prey animal.

Her legs had landed splayed, either deliberately or by act of fate, and Baal-Satyr was easily able to position himself where his tongue could go right between the warm ruby lips of Bea’s sex. She writhed in abject humiliation, spasming with the involuntary sensations that the movements of Baal-Satyr’s tongue produced.

“I—no—can’t—it’s so wrong—! So much! Too much! ¡Ajá! ¡Ajá! ¡Dale!”

Feigned or real, Bea clung to a furious sense of denial, safer by far than the pleasure coursing through her body. She could not admit to what she felt, but the mounting sensations would not be denied. Since the first swipe of Baal-Satyr’s tongue, her outrage had been streaked with pleasure. Now the pleasure was growing and any offense was fleeing her mind.

What did it matter how wrong it was?

What did anything matter except for how good it was?

Even that high and mighty bitch Diana had sampled this, so how could Bea not—

Her body as uncontrolled as her reaction, Bea convulsed in violent undulations as she came, an emerald flame twisting above her pubis as her orgasms went on and on. Like gas thrown on a fire, her shame at her response only made it more powerful. And with the dam broken, her pleasure had its say in glorious exuberance that even Bea had to savor.

After all, it was far more in Bea’s nature to delight in sex than to be embarrassed by it.

It was that night with Tora all over again, only this time, she felt no mortification at corrupting her friend, no wish to escape the excesses of her sex life. There was no need for running naked away from the fire she had unexpectedly started, trying to gather words to tell Tora they were better as friends after she’d put out the flame.

This time, she would get the full force of taboos being shattered, savoring her sin as she should’ve on that long ago night. It was almost as if she’d been given another chance—an opportunity to finally know what it would be like to stay and see how Tora would reciprocate instead of being shocked at her own arousal, the literally fiery lust she’d felt as what’d started out as teaching Tora how to kiss became her first taste of another woman’s coño.

Past and present merged, as she relived the nakedly lusting thoughts she had indulged with Tora, even as this new, animalistic passion surged in her hot-blooded loins.

“Mmmm… si, yess! Lick me there, lick me Tora!” she moaned between clenched teeth, her lips drawn back. “Dios mio, it feels incredible! Sooo gooodd!”