Black.

Before he was stripped away, so rudely ripped apart from his Queen - he felt her kiss hit him. More of her loving, guiding embrace had swirled around him, penetrated him. Before Ben was submerged into utter darkness, that sheer and unfeeling black limbo, he felt himself be dynamised. For the Queen, he repeated, as he felt his body be enveloped by that putrid, midnight oil. The D-Class shut his eyes tight, and held a breath as he transitioned - warped to a reality, unbound by the laws of our own.

A void. A pale, dark stone nexus, lit only by the faintest of green lights. His naked feet landed on cold, black, jagged rock - making him inhale sharply. And at that moment - as the funk of a thousand tortured corpses filled his nostrils, his mouth, he damn near vomited. This was a tomb - one unkempt and unmanaged. He took cautious steps forward, feeling as if the very world was slowly breathing, shifting around him. Ben didn't dare look down - for his thin strip of stone might've disappeared beneath him.

He heard a laugh when that thought appeared in his mind. A knowing laugh. A putridly bloated and sickly, sugary laugh. More of a beast exhaling or snorting than a laugh. It worked at just the right tone and volume to unnerve him. For he knew something was out there - hidden on the precipice of his sight - but he didn't know exactly where it dwelt. He continued his trapeze-walk to the central structure of this realm - an ancient, collapsed spire - pricked with millions of stone shards.

Being here tingled. He couldn't help but remain swollen, cock still priming itself with sticky seed - despite his mounting fears.

And as he pressed on - found himself in a labyrinth, he found himself being led. It wasn't by the Queen, he was sure this realm was too far out of her influence - and it wasn't by the being that called it "home", either. He'd… Been here before. At every turn, every corner - he felt his mind correct himself - not that one, no - that one. He eventually came to his fifth or sixth 4-way intersection, and stopped. He was being watched. Not only that - followed, too. Like that thing that had taken him, the laughing creature, was walking circles around him.

That decayed, inexorable march was unmistakable.

And his next intersection felt wrong. That feeling of deja vu came over him. Left led to death. A sheer drop, then to a… Walk? Whatever it was, he just felt that he wouldn't come back from it. Right led to another walkway with swinging pendulums - an animate… Coffin? It shook him to his core, even just thinking on what the fuck that meant. Straight…

He hadn't gone straight. Well - he hadn't gone anywhere yet, he was sure - but straight was a blank path. The only logical choice. Swallowing the shaking feeling in his heart - the trembling in his body, and the sheer amount of sweat pouring down his frame, Benjamin pressed on. Were it any other rat-trap, he would've held his hand to the side to help orientate and ground himself, but his body warned him against it. Caustic. Walls dripping with… Something. The straight path twisted and breathed and curved and warped, whistling and rending his balance inert. He dared not fall - for he felt the breath of the being on his neck - the stench of corpses momentarily abated by a vile, puerile caramel.

Go, he urged himself, ignoring the building warning in his body. Go, he chanted, as the hallway began to straight itself out - another room being revealed. Go, he choked, finally arriving somewhere worse.

He stopped.

That funk - of ghouls and garish gangrene, of corrupted, cold corpses, still writhing and breathing, of sweet and sick sugar, returned in force. Then he noticed the boxes. Wooden, hovering - some still fucking kicking, shifting. Impossibly large. His feet continued of their own accord - as if intrigued, morbidly curious. A box breathed. So he backed away - clutching a hand to his chest, feeling more like prey than ever before. Benjamin could barely even comprehend the size of this mausoleum, let alone the fact that some of this things victim's were still alive - even barely - still at the mercy of it.

How long had it been hunting? How did he know what it was? His eyes flashed with it's image before he screamed, backing into something wet, solid, and laughing.

Oh no. Oh dear god above, no.

This was it's realm. Of course. Of course he "knew" where to go - it was influencing him, cornering him into a path it wanted. He just had to be the guy to back into the laughing, demonic, pocket-dimension-controlling thing that had a fancy for the flaying of flesh. It wanted him to see this - to lose all hope before he surrendered to the infinite coffins before him. As his back made contact with it, he expected to be burnt - flesh boiled and melted like the markings he'd seen across the whole site.

He winced as he felt that oozing blackness pour over him - dripping a slick, slimy wetness over his naked body. And had to hold back a moan. Even the creature behind him paused in it's devilish laughter, just as confused as he was. It was like the fearful, tingling ambience of the dimension itself - but localised, and a billion times more intense. It pricked at every nerve with tender and caring kisses, only continuing it's path downwards - flowing across his rear.

Naturally, once the oily, sludgey black mess worked it's way, tingling his asshole a tad, he came. Benjamin never thought he'd live to see the day where he'd witness a fucking burial site, only to cum seconds later. This breach was messing with him. Or some sick god, like the Queen, or this thing behind him were. Adrenaline quickly filtered out the serotonin and oxytocin in his brain, replacing that post-orgasmic high with a fear-boner.

Right, he remembered. It.

Benjamin rationalised that nothing could've prepared him for whatever horror of the black abyss controlled the dimension he now occupied, so he turned. A whip went the black liquid clinging to him, as he spun in place, coming face to face with the domitor of this nightmare. Show me that evil smile of yours, you sick fuck, he gritted his teeth, sucking in a harsh breath.

And he was greeted by a black beauty. Truly, black to her core - even it's open-mouthed, dumbfounded expression revealed black insides - everything about it dripping with that sick, slick goo. Benjamin looked lower, expecting and noticing, yep, another female form. Two breasts, peaked with puckered piceous nipples, leaking more onyx runoff. Wide hips - reflecting the dull green light, and a distinct mons. Before he could continue his suspiciously thorough report of the black being, he was struck.

More pawed at, but struck nonetheless. The creature appeared confused, as if it meant to go through him, and it became even more confused as more cum erupted from his dick at that tingling sensation - that slap of tar to his breast. Even in the midst of a dimension she had no control over, Benjamin marvelled at the Queen's pull, and her sheer dominance over his sex drive. Even now her mark burned bright - emanating a lustful red aura around them, combating the dull green.

Still - with that sudden onslaught of a hot goo slap from the beast of the dark beyond, he had to brace himself. His legs went weak and jelly-like with that orgasm, with the sensation of a billion ebony tongues just barely tickling his skin, in all the right places. He held onto the creature, hands on it's shoulders, finding them surprisingly soft. And he came again - not realising how much of that stuff she had just sitting on her. So, struggling for more support, he brought his chest to hers, and came some more, almost in pain at how much cum wanted to spurt from his cock.

It just kept coming, like his previous session with 1162. It didn't stop - and made the master of nightmares recoil in quiet shock. Clearly, she was not used to hyperspermia. Though - to be fair, he thought - neither was he. She attempted to push him off, but found him too hard - not mushy enough like the others she had hunted, brought to her realm. His flesh didn't slough, didn't burn, blister, or boil with but a touch. It stayed. And got harder. And poured forth this white matter, so contrastingly set against her dark universe. Odd.

He didn't stop there. The Queen's very influence sought to penetrate this dimension - a horny crimson spark descending or ascending to their platform, which was being separated from the tomb room. Her kiss touched his mark, and his mark animated him. Jittering, trying to rein control over his climaxing self, Benjamin took grip of the old woman's face, biting on his bottom lip, and made her face him with those dark, dark eyes.

He then slid himself, oh so awkwardly, into her folds - bringing crotch to crotch, abs to dripping black abs, chest to goo-dripping tits. And he saw her vile, animalistic and hunting expression change. Her jaw dropped as she found herself leaking more of her material - her corrosive sludge, now tingle-goo, at that sensation. And Benjamin smiled, confident in his next victory.

Time slowed. By her hand, he was sure of that much. Perhaps it was to savour the moment of this newfound pleasure indefinitely - or perhaps it was to devise a plan on how to torture him appropriately. Benjamin continued in spite, though with diminished spirit, as every inch of his skin could be felt tingling against that black mass, bit by bit. There was no sense or pattern to it - rendering his weak legs weaker with every unexpected orgasm - every jet of cum he fired into the being before him. He struggled to make out her facial features, but found at least her lips, thick and full, begging for a sloppy kiss.

So, with the burn of his mark, he embraced her. Peered into the abyss that was the old woman's eyes, and watched it stare right back. It was warm, lighting his mouth with the same sensations he'd been feeling all over, and he could tell with every movement against her that she was still stunned, still processing this information over the course of the hours it took to smooch her. Over those hours, he managed to trace his tongue over those leaking lips, quivering and shivering as that goo entered his mouth. Sweet, he thought. So very sweet.

It took at least a day for her to move - to change her expression from shocked to what he could only describe as excited. And it was one that sent his already-jerking dick into overdrive, still sawing against her jilling insides. Each thrust took about a minute to complete - but she growled in quiet pleasure with the movement, the parting of herself, and the molten warmth of his white in her black. He found her extending something - right, her tongue - back into his mouth, dripping more of that darkness inside him. He froze for a second - now about 40 minutes, expecting the mark to wear off, to have his insides boiled by the obsidian flow.

But, he still stood. And felt that sweetness stimulate him. Charge him by virtue of having made her produce it. And continued fucking, for hours unto days, days unto weeks, and…

He only stopped after that when he noticed a change in the composition of the morbid realm. Dull green and black were giving way to red and white. Grey. Grey was mixing into the sky, and red light dawned from all around them - giving way to the horror, breathing in change to this still wasteland. Benjamin took a second to crane his head down, trying to regain a sense or two, only to discover his cum spilling silly from the bloated belly of the beast. 40 seconds later, and he was looking back at her expression - jaw still dropped, head thrown back in agonising pleasure, as her breasts began to squirt that black goo over him still.

He looked back down, noticing their platform was running off with the efforts of their embrace - the fruits of their carnal labour. So much, he thought, head a painful, pleasured mess, swimming in the rapture of physical delight, so much fucking cum. Lest he be unable to dominate this creature like he had 173 and 1162, maybe he could flood her realm? Benjamin felt the need to slap himself in the face after thinking of that plan - flooding this place with cum? What are you, a fucking idiot?

With a shake of his head, he continued his slow, laboured thrusts, sending one more look to the pleasure-ridden abomination. Then, he resigned himself to this position - not noticing the red tendrils surrounding them both - face set in a grim line as he focused on the Queen. On cumming, on that pleasure which allowed him to reach such orgasmic heights, and nothing else. Go, go, go, he pressured himself, feeling the veins in his neck press against his skin as he began the week-long process of pulling his cock free. He was expecting time to react appropriately after he'd released himself from those onyx folds, but still found his movements sluggish - the creature's mind still warped with transcendent bliss.

He scuttled around it - taking another two weeks of his time, and took grip of the oily hips of the old woman. Benjamin pushed her back down, forcing her to bend over - and yanked one of her arms backwards, arching so that her tits would pop forward better. With his new leverage, and without pause, he fumbled his squirting meat inside the tight ass of this dimension's mistress.

Oh fuck, he thought. So fucking tight. So much cum wanted to pour from him still - and the creature's hole helped him none. She was already full, but he made her fuller. As her pussy began spurting his sperm out on that already wettened platform, he occupied her ass. Controlled her from the inside - made the black his white. It became almost painful, and he mused that if time were set normally, if he didn't have the ooze to thank for another sensation, he'd be in shock from the pain.

She looked back at him, and for a minute, a second, he paused. He was past fear. The sky was grey now - and that crack of energy that had pierced the being's dimension had taken shape. With him, it thrusted, flaring and furious. So Benjamin harnessed the rage as he did with the Statue, and, to the Old Woman's apparent joy, resumed. The murderer most foul, the almost-eldritch being that had sent so many to suffer for so long, cracked a loony smile at him.

That would not do. Like the Statue, he would fuck this mockery of a human being with a vengeance, until she hated it, and then, until she loved it again. Sawing in and out, just as the Queen's spark did, he violated her. Ruined her black, dripping asshole and swelled her over and over again. She didn't know the sensation she felt, but it was wonderful, and horrifying. Making her convulse, making her lost control even inside her own dimension. Even as she attempted to fight back - first physically, then, temporally - she found herself at his mercy. Time skipped, started, restarted, and fast-forwarded at shocking intervals, as 106 struck out, faltering.

This was no longer her realm. It was theirs. The Queen and her King. The Red and White.

Her face fell, and Benjamin sung, just wishing he could slow time - for one final, rough, reverberating, catastrophic thrust. And for it's beginning, he found himself almost stuck. It took long, too long almost, but he could tell he was moving now - looking straight down at the stretched hole of the SCP. Her back slicked with that obsidian ooze like sweat, beading down in buckets. His cock was stained with the stuff, streaking black amidst his white cum, inches disappearing in weeks.

The platform they found themselves on was saturated, he noted. And the realm around them had lost it's faint green glow - replaced by a lovely, pulsing red. The spark, high in those skies, cracked the world around it, parting the miasma of suffering and isolation without struggle anymore. Whiteness gushed from the black and red, trickling down to the abyss' apparent floor, pooling like it had done with 1162. Like violent, rushing waterfalls, that slick cream spurted as if in time with the Old Woman's orifices - her pussy still leaking it. As it had done for a year now.

With a final, stretched, howling roar, Benjamin bottomed himself inside the buxom beast. Balls pressing against her thick, tingling ass, firing his sperm inside her realm, he finished her. And, having fought against her convulsions, against the sheer violation she felt at her realm being torn from her grasp, she fell off him as he let her go. Splattering against the cum-drenched stone floor, panting, looking as every bit a used whore as the Statue, she could only look to the sky.

Benjamin mused that she would've cried, should the creature have been equipped with one modicum of humility. But he settled for her defeat, standing proudly, panting and cumming still over her twitching, orgasming form. His hate remained, but he tempered it with pride, grinning at her - at the fear she made him and so many other victims feel, turned against her now.

"Kneel," he commanded her. Knowing she could understand him. Her eyes opened wide, those soulless black pits now holding scorn for him, mixed with that wondrous, horny haze.

Working with the strength of hundreds of tortured souls, those who had taken the wrong step into darkness and found themselves under her eye, under the phantom's thumb and whim, he picked her up.

Lifting her by the throat, to her shaky feet, he neared her, bringing his eyes to hers. "Kneel."

He let go of her throat, grinning wider as she backed away from him, almost falling again, slipping in his essence. And, after hours of deliberation, eyeing him like a prey might a predator, she obeyed. 106, former lord and torturer supreme of his own pocket dimension, was brought to pay for his sins. Disgraced in her very own pleasure-pocket, brought to her knees on the defiled altar of wrong she had cultivated for ages past, she looked down, daring not to meet her new lord's gaze.

She could hear him again. Flesh on wet flesh. Hand pumping his meat - that which had invaded and penetrated her, delivered unto her the boiling whiteness she felt stirring inside her now - that made her jitter and cum still, making more of her decaying blackness ooze.

"Look at me," Ben commanded. And so she obeyed.

"Open your mouth."

"Taste me. Taste your insides, you bitch."

As she hesitated, he brought one hand behind her head, and forced her on his length - securing her mouth just around his tip, ensuring she could feel the tingling on her taste buds. Not only him, not only how her ass and pussy tasted, but her recompense as well. Her sweet, salty, hot and thick recompense. The Old Woman could only look back down at herself as she swallowed, pussy weeping again as she spilled more of her darkness onto the floor. For she knew he was not done with her. She was not done with her, the one who had invaded her realm too. They would use her body, make her love it again and again, stuck in bliss eternal.

A tear formed near them, ripping open much easier than it had done back in reality, and Benjamin found himself sweating, covered in a proud mixture of juices, in front of his Queen. A worry was evident on her face, that turned quickly to pride, to love. And then, witnessing the fullness of the creature's breaking, it turned to lust, so very naturally.

"You foul, poor thing… I'm afraid your nightmare has only just begun. But you will learn to love it. Or you will break, one thousand-fold," the Queen spoke, stroking the woman next to her - what Ben could only recognise as the former hole-in-the-wall. Only her legs, hips and groin were visible to him - the rest of her body flickering in between the cracks of space. The hole she had previously occupied was gone - leaving them both standing in that sperm-sunk room.

Naturally, Ben appeared shocked, eliciting a giggle from Imperatrix. Like the first wind of summer it was, so warm and light, energising him further.

"My apologies, Phal. This little creature must appear something odd to you. If you had my eyes you'd look upon her face and weep, for she is beautiful… Unlike what you have brought before me now."

Ben stepped into the real world, dredging through his own seed, and ordered the Old Woman to follow him. So broken and bent she was, that she took a step outside of her own realm by the beckoning of another, dripping her foul fluids onto the floor.

"Kneel before your Queen," he commanded her once more. He noticed the hesitation in her eyes - the squint as the fluorescent tubes returned in full force, making her stop. So, Ben neared her, his mouth to her earlobe.

"Kneel."

Imperatrix was proud. Clapping, giggling again, the goddess strode towards 106, so very slowly, inching through the puddles of jizz. Her body glistened in the harsh lighting, illuminating every curve that swung and twisted with each expressed step. And all the torturer could do was gawk, face betraying a quiet fear as she obeyed. For a second, the Queen appeared to think on the idea of making this creature enjoy the scent and taste of her glorious nethers, but stopped herself.

"Tempting though it is to have myself praised until I sing," she jested, "I don't think you deserve that, Corporal. You do remember your days as Corporal Lawrence, yes?"

The creature balked at her, staring in between 1162, Ben, and back to the goddess. More fear played out on it's stiff, dark features. It tried fleeing back into its own realm, only to be halted by the Queen's pull - a red tether wrapped tightly around her neck.

"Your thoughts are easy to intercept when my Phal is inside you, when his cum permeates your entire physical being… As are your memories," she explained, smiling. Ben mentally noted that quirk of hers down, wondering just how deeply tied he was to her now, and what that would mean if they separated.

The Queen beckoned 1162 to join her side, the phasing, fuzzy limbs hugging weakly at the god's bod. It turned it's flickering head to Ben, as if blushing, and snapped it's gaze back to the judgement-awaiting creature.

"Like the tortured souls you kept in your dark halls, I shall bring you to my light, to my realm. There, as you kept them in boxes, coffins, ladened with the filth of wars and atrocities past, I shall keep you in one the same."

It's jaw dropped. Punishment.

Ben's hand gravitated towards his cock as he witnessed this exchange, unable to control himself. He kept his hand waiting, positioned on the SCP's head, damn near heaving.

"You will not leave that box until you are stained. Until every waking thought in your barbaric, predatory mind is replaced with thoughts of love. And then, perhaps, you may join my Phal and I in our love."

With but a snap of the Queen's fingers, the Old Woman was gone. And as her dripping wet head left Ben's grip, he was smashed against the wall by the Queen's body. Her lips were on his, conveying thoughts and emotions to him so very clearly, as her hands gripped tightly around his slickened cock.

Chief among the goddesses' whispers were a few phrases.

"Your mind is cluttered behind the trickery of another god. A forgetting god. It is hard to make you remember. But I will."

"Until the foul creature is stained, you will feel her insides, wrapped around you. I am sorry."

"You are making me stronger. You will be rewarded for such tributes, the suffering quims."

"The hole in the wall is glad you found her. She awaits for you, at the end of this. Wants to show you her true face."

"I love you."