Brent Stinebaker
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II-131 Ass Labyrinth (II) (TTF)
🕑 Added 2025-07-25 16:51:52 +0000 UTC"Hello? Hello? Is anyone there? I've been trapped here. Trapped. Trapped for years. Is anyone there?
I... I made Greatest angry. The Prince of Pride. I didn't know he was the Prince of Pride. I... I should have never... I should have never insulted him. I should have never laid my hands on him.
I'm sorry. Greatest, can you hear me? I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Just let me out. Let me out of your ass. I want to eat something other than nuts. I want I want to live I want to have something something something to go back to Haven't seen my family in an eternity.
"I cannot remember. I don't remember I can't remember Please greatest, please let me out. Please I'm begging you please please gods, please the family on the ohhhhaghhghgh—If you free me from this man's ass, I will give you anything Mepheleon free me from this man's ass and my life my soul my everything is yours
Wait, what's that sound? What's that noise? No, no, not more people not more people. There's not enough nuts. Stop putting more people in your ass you motherfuck! I can’t do it! I can’t eat anymore human flesh! There’s nothing else here! FUCCCKKK!”
-Final Note of Sinner Trapped in Greatest’s Ass
II-131
Ass Labyrinth (II)
"I hate this place," MacArthur muttered.
"At least he had the steps put in, as I suggested," Kalrus said, holding up a lantern in front of the general.
The floor beneath them went clack, clack, clack as their boots met fine wooden floorboards. However, around them were furrowed walls. If one was ignorant as to where they were, they might think this the inner mouth of some lard creature. Indeed, the texture of the skin and even the coloring looked the same. But this was not the inner mouth of some creature. This was the asshole of an asshole. Of THE asshole… The greatest asshole of the Claimed Hells. Greatest.
"He also had lights put in," the general pointed up. Small bulbs swayed above, infused with Essence. There was an elemental energy that lit each one. Coal emanated from one of the bulbs, then heat, then the static of electricity and more.
As they continued venturing forth, they emerged from the lip of a large cave, only to see a long set of stairs going lower and lower, and the smell... well, General MacArthur did everything he could not to think about the smell.
The smell was the thing of nightmares. It was the thing of a thousand battlefields smashed together. If you gathered every dead body in a trench, put them in a blender, pissed on that blender, shat in that blender, ground all that together, that was the smell. And now he had to suffer through all of that just to discover whatever the heck it was that greatest hid inside his ass.
This place was a walking nightmare. And General MacArthur often wondered why God would allow such a thing to exist, why God would permit such a place, why God would accept such a creature as greatest, even if there were those who deserve damnation, maybe, just maybe, have other people be spared that damnation as well.
As they ventured downward, a massive set of doors stood open, doors caked in, well, MacArthur tried not to think about it. Beyond those doors came the color of brilliant gold, for that was what lay beyond those doors. Mountains of gold, treasures unbound. A small castle loomed over rolling hills of gems and diamonds, and that was where they were heading: to the Temple of the Forlorn Ass, also known as the Rectal Labyrinth.
As they passed through the massive gates, they saw a new body lying on the ground. General MacArthur pulled out his sidearm, an M1911 pistol infused with Kalrus's special bullets, and another gun, a flintlock that held a special surprise of its own. Both sinners stared at the body and regarded its partially eaten face.
"God damn it," Kalrus muttered. The orc scientist rarely cursed, but when he did, there was usually a reason for it. It wasn't a particularly venomous curse, nor was there a lot of heat in it. It was just a resigned statement.
They both knew things about Greatest, and rumors swirled across the claimed hells. Greatest didn't really fight people. The Prince of Pride wasn't so interested in life and death struggles. No, what he preferred was domination. Domination in the oddest variety, usually by overpowering someone with summons and then forcing that someone to go up his ass. When he did, they would be lost.
Depending on how vicious Greatest felt like being, they would be lost for a short period of time before they were returned to their faction. But if he was in a particularly vicious mood, if he was especially vindictive, he would keep them trapped there for good.
Months would pass, his ass would become like a prison. Princes of Hell didn't so much eat for sustenance, nutrition, or a balanced diet, but mainly for pleasure. Pleasure and only pleasure. And Greatest was not known for eating often. He was the Prince of Pride, after all, not a prince of gluttony.
So within Greatest's ass, things became scarce. And more importantly, Essence was constantly drained. That was another problem in this place. One's powers were constantly dampened, weakened, sapped. The asshole of Greatest had suction powers, figuratively, spiritually, and mentally. You grew physically stupider every passing second you remained within his ass.
This resulted in other things occurring in the ass, however, for Greatest sometimes hosted ass games. Battle Ass Royale, he called them, mainly due to reading a piece of Earth fiction. Greatest wasn't too sure about this, because he never read anything that had Royale in it. But the gist of the matter was, sometimes Greatest forced multiple people inside of his ass labyrinth, and as they were sapped more and more, rendered practically mortal, they would have to eat to sustain themselves, to struggle and survive. And thus, there came the situation where different people started cannibalizing each other inside Greatest's ass, or, more often than not, they fought over the undigested nuts Greatest was so fond of.
And now, Kalrus and MacArthur were probably going to have to fight a few feral sinners, if there were any still left over.
Kalrus pulled a large sword out of his inventory, and the moment he held it, his muscles swelled. He grew to twice his original size, and then he put the sword away, back into his inventory, only to pull out a hand-held howitzer.
"Alright," MacArthur said, "take the lead, Doctor, I'll be right behind you."
"Indeed, General," Kalrus said, walking forward.
With every step, the ground shook, the coins jingled. His eyes narrowed, and he swapped out his spectacles for a pair of gleaming goggles. As he looked about, he scanned his surroundings, trying to see if there were any threats laying in wait.
Seconds passed, tension built, a sweat began to pour down General MacArthur's forehead. He hated this place. He hated the fact that Greatest managed to talk him and the doctor into coming here. But whatever Greatest had, it was certain to be worth it. The Prince of Pride promised. He even gave legal guarantees. And when a prince gave you legal guarantees, you didn't skip out on the opportunity.
"Our vicinity is clear," Kalrus declared. "I will continue a few paces ahead of you. Stay ten meters behind, General. You are aware of the blastback of this cannon."
The General nodded. "Yeah. Aye." And then he kicked something. He looked down, and there was a skeletal hand sticking out from the golden coins at his feet. MacArthur shook his head. "Of all the places to hide a treasure vault, why here?"
"Why here, indeed," Greatest's voice echoed from the outside. The Prince of Pride was listening, was watching. He was probably amusing himself this very moment. MacArthur didn't know what kind of skill allowed a man to stare into his own ass, to make his own ass a dimension unto itself. But MacArthur also didn't ever want to find out. The sooner he was out of this place, the better; to share a grave with these poor fools would make him come back to life from sheer outrage alone.
"General," Kalrus said, "I think I found our other assailants."
"Other assailants?" He walked around a large hill of gold and a long, suffering sigh escaped from him. He stared down at a body, a body that had a blade driven through its neck, and judging from the way it was thrust through the neck, this was a suicide. There was also meat dangling from the body's mouth. Meat that probably belonged to the other corpse. This was a recent act of cannibalism, and it ended predictably. Just because someone was a murderous psychopath didn't make them the proper kind of psychopath that could accommodate cannibalism.
"Alright," MacArthur said, lowering his gun slightly. "There might be more maniacs running around, but I think we're probably in the clear for now."
"Never be too certain," Greatest called out from the outside. "I put a lot of people in my ass and forget."
"You know," MacArthur closed his eyes. "Tell us, to the temple, to the labyrinth, let's get this thing over with."
They hurried on then, the coins beneath their feet parting and clacking together. As they crossed over mound over mound, they found themselves passing through the cracked walls of a partially torn down fortress. Another thing about Greatest, he didn't really build any of this. No, he just took places from the outside and put them here. How, you might ask? He sat on the world. He opened himself wide and he sat. There was nothing the poor people could do.
As they passed through the ruined walls, vast and grand, General MacArthur saw that the ballistae on the walls were still maintained, maintained by massive suits of golden armor, cleaned constantly by summoned custodians. "But despite all that, greatest didn't deal with the smell, bastard," General MacArthur muttered under his breath.
The true labyrinth rose before them. It was layered first in a grassy maze, but that connected to a set of stairs leading up into the open doorway of a grand hall. Huge marble pillars stood within, already decorated with strange carvings from distant cultures and golden enamel. But as they approached, the grassy maze parted before them, shifting and making things easier.
"Understand that you're in a hurry to get back to your office," Greatest said, his voice booming from all sides. "So let me help you."
As the maze came undone, MacArthur gave a begrudging nod at the absent Prince of Pride. In seconds, they were up the staircase, rushing through the hall. The marble pillars shot up, but the ceiling did not fall. As each of the columns retracted, the doorway before them blasted open as a gush of cold air washed over them.
"Too cold," Kalrus commented.
Another set of stairs awaited, but soon the structure stopped being so grand, so mysterious, so classical. Now, reinforced walls appeared, walls from a more modern era. It was like another building forged inside a grand temple. Then came two doors of reinforced titanium, and they slowly slid open as Kalrus and MacArthur rushed forth as well.
As they passed through the doors, they found themselves standing in an elevator, fully functional. Not functional because of Essence. Rather, there was a generator running here. Electricity.
"What is this," Kalrus said. "How did he get this to work? It shouldn't be."
"It is possible," Greatest said. "It is possible if you make a proper dimension for it. It is possible if you manage to hide it deep enough in your ass."
Soon, the elevator took them down, and in seconds they were accelerating fast. The complex was larger than the general remembered. Frankly, he didn't remember this section at all. The thing about the labyrinth, it was ever changing because Greatest could re-slot different structures by simply clenching himself. However, this must have been built a long time ago.
The doors swung open. On the other side was a man in a hazmat suit, an earth hazmat suit. "General MacArthur," the man saluted, "I've been told to expect you."
MacArthur stared. "And who are you?"
"My name is Henry Davidson. I was, uh, well, I was supposed to be a trespasser, but the prince here recruited me just as I crossed over. Now I work to further the Emergency Noble Removal Program, also known as I shit on all the other princes."
"What?" Kalrus breathed.
"You should come with me," the man calling himself Davidson said. He led them down a long, narrow hall. But it was a clean hall, pristine, the air was treated; there was no more smell anymore. The ground was polished, tiled, and Davidson swiped a key card before getting his eye scanned so they could get through another door.
As they did, they entered what seemed to be an observatory, and there an entire command center had been built. People worked on computers, computers from different eras, from the large ones to sleek modern laptops. Wires ran everywhere. It was a ramshackle setup, and on one of the screens were a series of graphs and numbers the general couldn't quite figure out. Beyond the command center was a large concave window.
And on the other side, he thought he was staring at another intercontinental ballistic missile, perhaps a genuine one. If that was what Greatest wanted to surprise him...
"No," Kalrus breathed. "How did he?"
And then the general noticed something at the top of the missile. There was something embedded there, something that glistened. It was an extra module, but as light glanced over it, the General saw a radioactive sign on its surface. MacArthur’s breath caught. “What the hell…”
"Welcome," Greatest proclaimed, "to my secret deep-fold laboratory. Here, I collect things from your world. I intercept them before they could become troublesome. And I intercepted something very, very funny this time. Behold, a nuclear warhead, one that I had been trying to restore for a long time, been collecting all kinds of experts from your world, experts before they could be contaminated by a Cass and imagine themselves to be special for any reason other than the natural."
"But now I think I've run into a wall with them. You see, things don't work well here for things that originated from your world. So I need an expert who can adapt this, and I can only remember one. One that has made their own variants of a ballistic missile, one that has bridged the gap between natural earthbound technology and the Essence that infuses us all."
"Dr. Kalrus, how would you like to finish a nuclear warhead in hell?"
Comments
Star i
"Dr. Kalrus, how would you like to finish a nuclear warhead in hell? In my ass. In hell.”
Leos Void
Well. As someone who hasn't read infernal ascension in a while, this is a rather interesting turn
