A Tale of Earth, Hell, and Lust

  • 10 months ago
  • 25 min read
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Vex: verb; make (someone) feel annoyed, frustrated, or worried.

I grew up perplexed as to why a parent would name their child such. But I am not a parent, just the product of two. Raised by my paternal grandparents, my only memories of the ones who named me, were the stories my grands told me, so I will never know why they named me Vex.

My father, a giant of a man, whom my Grands reminded me strayed from the proper and right way they raised him. He chose to use his size and strength against God instead of for him. Bouncing bars and collecting money for the mob, he legally changed his last name to Bruiser, so thus when born, I became Vex Bruiser.

“Names do not make a man, a man makes his name,” were the consoling words from my grandfather.

So I tried. I really tried so hard.

My mother, I have no real memory of her either. My Grands always reminded me that she was the harlot who seduced the good heart from my father. The reason I was born into turmoil. The reason I needed my grands to save me. The reason salvation would be harder for me than most.

My Grands raised me with the Gospel and with Love. Raised me with Commandments and Fear. Yet I told you, my bloodline was from Goliath and Magdalene, not from David and Virgin Birth. So what chance did I, Vex Bruiser, have?

I believe I just turned 13 when a magazine cover in the grocery store showed a woman in a bikini, and my mouth watered. I strayed over, opened the pages to more scantily clad models. My heart beat faster, my groin warmed. A painful thud brought me out of my first lustful trance, and my grandma began a sermon of blindness, hair growing out of my hands, and body parts falling off. Dragging me out of the store, the horrifying embarrassment of everyone watching and laughing scarred my young, hormonally charged mind.

I learned a valuable lesson that day, and hence forth she never saw me look toward a woman. In the day my head remained hung low, my field of vision stayed below onlookers, while taking in every curve below the neck. And at night I hid under bedsheets with a dim light and magazines full of visual delights.

I graduated high school, made the Grands so proud as I went to engineering college, and moved out on my own. With good grades, they paid for my apartment. Years of looking down, I became expertly adept with body language. Years of hiding the excitement of seeing an attractive female, I became a master of hiding emotion. My bloodline led me instinctively. I could sit at a poker table, never look a person in the eye and know a bluffer from a winner.

Money flowed from their hands, to mine, to women of the night. I found heaven. The pages of my magazines came to life. The visual delights became enhanced with the feel of flesh, smells of perfumes, and tastes of Venus.

Only the sinners knew of my sins, and they were sinning with me, who would they tell. My Grands and their Holy Vision blind to my nefarious pleasures. Sunday morning church and evening dinner kept me blessed and well fed. Monday through Saturday cards, wine, and women kept me happy and hungry.

However balanced perfection can not last forever. When I heard the police raiding the brothel, I panicked. All I hid for years would suddenly be exposed. My shame overwhelmed me. I heard police kicking in one door after another, and I knew the time to my door was moments away.

The looks of my Grand’s disappointment. The speeches to come. The guilt of letting them down as my father had. My Grands bailing me out of jail was not an option. My being arrested was unacceptable. No time to dress. Little time to think.


I grabbed her lace panties from the floor, and stuffed my face into them to hide.

I lied about the pleasure the smell of the crotch covering my nose gave me.

I pulled them tighter to my face, to hide my face not only from the world, but from God.

I ran at the door as the police busted in. My naked body knocked the two of them down, and while I could see through the lace, I knew it hid my identity from them. I ran down the hall like a pinball, bouncing off one police then another.

I tripped, fell on top of an officer, yet still remained hidden. He was more interested in getting a naked man off him, than arresting me, or even looking at my identity.

I lied again. Screaming to myself that I grabbed the pistol accidentally. Again I hid as he closed his eyes while my crotch brushed over his face as I raised up and ran.


Numerous police were swarming to me and my escape out the front door.


I raised the gun to hide my face.

Bee stings riddled my body. For a brief moment I felt so much pain. I inhaled the smell of laced panties for a last time. I heard thunderous explosions. I saw blackness, and all sensations went blank.

I knew no time, so I may have been nothing for seconds, days, months, decades or centuries, but there was a point when I became emptiness. Then my nude body hit the ground hard, and I felt myself bounce in pain. The beautiful smell of laced panties replaced with a rancid unknown odor. I heard the rapid pounding of drums. I opened my eyes and gazed at dozens if not hundreds of demonic incubi rushing across a desolate rocky landscape.

They ran to me, and I tried desperately to raise myself and flee. The Swift seized me by the back of my neck before I could escape. I felt myself ripped from my body. My Ethereal lacked bones, and my gaze spun around one hundred and eighty degrees. Drifting up the inescapable, muscular arm I stared into the face of my captor.

A face carved perfectly from a midnight-blue granite smiled lustfully with crimson lips. Black eyes pierced through my Ethereal to my corpse behind me, and my vision

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Written by sirvexbruiser
Hochgeladen August 8, 2020
Notes Vex tells in his words how Lust condemned him to Hell, The incredibly awesome sexual pleasures in Hell
And how he was cursed back to Earth as a Knight of Lust
AddTo content hare