Escape from the Hive story. 18+

The caw of a murder of crows passing in front of a cloudless full moon signals the chime of midnight bells through the air to begin, ringing through the cooling, sprawling desert city of Tel'Infe.
The people have long since retired, exhausted from a long day of work in the sun, with a few nobles in their mansions still having candle lights in their study. The only life in the wide, well managed streets and alleys are city guards in groups of two, chattering among one another. Two guards pass an unlit alleyway, one boasting to the other about his accomplishments in the art of romance, whilst the listener seems highly skeptical, laughing at the others' attempts at convincing him of the truth in his words. As they pass the alley, they fail to notice the hooded figure who exits the alley, a soft thwack as the figures foot paw steps on a pile of dropped straw. One of the guards turn too late. "Did you hear that?", he says, his eyes alert, sure of the news his ears have told him. "Ach it's just the ale making ya jumpy, old friend." His comrade says with a calming voice. "There's nothing here but stray cats and drunks sleeping off their buzz."

True, there are stray cats...And there are royal cats too. The figure's hood pulls back in a dry gust of wind, sweeping out a bit of silvery white and teal blue-tipped hair.

She arrives at a locked, oak door, gently using the nook of her index finger knuckle to tap on it three times. Silence follows, for what feels like an eternity, before the rhythmic, progressive noise of one lock being undone after the other, except for one chain that allows the door to be ajar without being able to get kicked open. "WHO GOESH 'ERE!?" half yells, half whispers an old man's voice, his glaring green eye piercing through the gloomy darkness behind him. "Open up you old fool, you asked me to come, and here I am." The stoic, stern voice was unmistakable, famous for as far as ears could reach to hear the rumors and legends of the desert. "Ah, yesh, of corsh...Princessh Vaxi, yesh'm..Mhmm..I've been...exshpecting yuuuu...Ye-yeesh yesh, yesh...C-Come in, hmm!" The old man, clearly mad as a cockatiel, unhooks the chain and allows the princess to swing the door open, provoking a recoil from her majesty. The smell within was overpowering, as though something had died, been reincarnated, washed themselves in feces, then died within the same feces all over again. Had she not been trained from birth to never lose face, she would've doubled over and vomited up her dinner of prime roast and fresh vegetables.
She managed to step inside. It was an alchemists store, but not any normal alchemists store. It was the store of a Warlock, a mage who has turned to the dark arts. Necromancy, Illusionism, Demonology, Blood Magic, Poison Brewing and Voidism. All those schools and most likely more yet to become known fell under the scorned, grotesque wing of the dark arts, and clearly, this old man had dedicated his life to it; skulls hovering in mid air with their own foul glow from within, flesh and blood still clinging to the brown bone beneath. Jars of miscellaneous body parts and a whole shelf's worth of outlawed ingredients, from Grognon Whiskers, to Succubus milk, Incubus seed and centaur testicles. Foul smelling liquids of dull, matte colors, and a the source of the overpowering stench, a dead body, lying on a table, twitching and writhing as though alive, yet not.
"A-Ah yesh'm...Eh...Excush the messh there, your majeshty...I uh, hmh, didn't really clean up ash I uhm..hmh I-". "You forgot." The princess interrupted, her patience for his scatterbrained rambling having reached its zenith. "Q-Quite yesh, majeshty...I, hm...I do apologishe! Now...Onto bishnish, shall we!?"
Without answering, the Princess pulled a hefty sack of what could only be gold. Straining from the wrapped up bunch of cloth at the top to keep it sealed shut from under its own weight. The bag was as big as the crippled old madmans own head. He gleefully giggled a sickly, hoarse and slimy giggle while snatching the bag of riches from the pristine, pampered hand of the princess, pulling out a gold coin with her own silhouetted head on it, and bit down on it with his gnarled, half-rotted teeth. As he bit, a tooth cracked loose and flew across the room, only to land with a tender 'plop', in a thick, tar like substance that smelled of rotten eggs. "Hmh, yesh, quite real, I imagine, hmhm...Sho...", the Princess' gaze darkened. "Do you have it?" She asked, plainly, darkly, advertising her waning patience perfectly for even the most clueless recluse to discover as clear as crystal.
The leather skinned old man cowered. Clearly a sorcerer of skill, an entire lifetime and then some dedicated to its very nature, had left him entirely capable of defending himself without the need of physical strength...But he was but a man. What stood before him was older than even the powers he'd dedicated his very existence to studying. "Y-Yesh, my lady, I-I have it..B-BUT OH...OH NOW...Mhm...You..shall not ushe it, alone, hm? Yesh, thish...thing...Ish not, to be trifled with...D-Do not read thish texsht, unlessh yu arr prepared for it!" The crippled warlock reached into his blood stained, ammonia reeking robe and presented a scroll. Black as night and shining in the candlelight, like the paper had been covered in ink that never dries. Around it was a golden ribbon with the stamp of a local temple that dedicated itself to warding everything evil from the world. Breaking such a seal is considered blasphemy in Draq'Nara, the very Queendom which the Princess rules. "Now, when yu arr as farr away from dishturbencesh ash yu can getch? Open the shcroll, and read ash it stands, EXSHACTLY, ash it shtands, for even the shlightesht mishtake will shurely shpell doom for not only your eshteemed shelf, your majeshty, but the entire Queendom!
"I am fully aware of what this is, Warlock. Do not lecture me in things to which I am a senior, understood?" The hooded monarchs beautiful, youthful face was plain, neutral in her disregard for this man whom she had done illicit business with, before turning on her heels and walked to the door. As she opened it, the crippled Warlock laughed. An ominous, dark laugh befitting that of a scheming thief about to snatch a rattle from a baby for nothing but his own gleeful, evil enjoyments sake. "What is it that has you laughing, old fool?" She says with an un-amused tone of bitter resentment. He immediately stopped the soft, shallow chuckling, stifling it with a ragged, gagging clearing of his throat. "Ohnuffin, nuffin your majeshty, but know thish....The forchesh which you play with...Enjoy the besht, to teach thoshe who think them their equal, a lesshon in humility...". The Princess turned her head to see him glaring at her sideways; with his one good eye, a crooked smile on his cracked, pustule covered lips. She said nothing, and simply walked through the door, the door shutting with a resounding CLAP behind her, without her having to touch it. She could hear the locks clattering, clamping, sliding, swinging, and cracking together, as each magically locked themselves as soon as she was out.

She hurried through the darkened streets, dodged her own guards, and any watchful eyes from sentries and curious night time explorers alike, until she reached her own Palace, entering through her secret escape passage in the palace gardens and entered a winding staircase made of stone. She rose all the way to the top, and entered in through a hidden door in the wall of her own royal chambers, which were just as she'd left them. She closed the secret passage behind her, and exited her own quarters, the two guards on either side standing guard vigilantly. One of them, a large bull with horns jutting out from under his helmet, with a gruff voice, said: "Good evening your majesty. I was asked to inform you that your consort, Maverick has been looking for you this evening. Shall I inform him of your intentions for the evening?". "That won't be necessary," She said with her angelic, sweet, natural tone, "Let my love know that I will see him come morning. Tonight I am tired, and would rather be by my lonesome. I am merely going for a midnight stroll in the gardens." "Shall I accompany you, my liege?" "No thank you, I would rather enjoy the stars in the sky alone tonight." "As you wish, your highness."

The Princess walked away, ensuring she was no longer the focal point of their attention, before hurrying down the wall to the staircase on the far end. She went down, and down, and down, all the way down, until torches were looking more and more unkempt and maintained. As she got to the bottom, she did not open the heavy oak door that leads to the dungeons. Instead, she went to a pile of barrels stacked under the staircase. She moved the lot of them, until finally a layer of straw was moved aside, only to show a hatch in the floor. Opening it led to a ladder descending further, into a pitch black gloomy hole. Grabbing one of the half-awake torches from its sconce, before hauling herself down into the inky black pit. Thankfully she had opted to wearing her less nice dress before leaving her chambers, knowing that she'd be squeezing her wide, curvaceous hips in such a narrow opening.

She climbed down a wooden ladder for what felt like ages, using one hand at a time with relative ease, as she could push her back against the wall behind her. Finally, she reached the bottom, a sprawling, cavernous opening stretching out before her, lit only in occasional sections, like slots on a chess board, lit, dark, lit, dark. She walked down the dungeon like cave, before a faint, purple glow radiated from an opening at the end. She seemed entirely unfazed, as though she'd been here multiple times before. As she passed through the door, what greeted her on the other side was a world of terrible wonder. It was a cavernous room, big enough to hold her entire palace within, and then some. It was enormous, unnaturally so, as the height of the ceiling should in fact have long since broken into the dungeon floor and servant quarters. Clearly of magical origin, the cavernous hall was home to a mysterious purple goo. A literal lake of it, with an almost two feet thick layer of steam on top of the warm, still mass. It was like a mirror lake, completely, utterly still, not as much as a squirm or as much as a tiny bubble came from the substance. If not for the layer of steam on top, showing its heat, it would most definitely look like a lake made of purple water.
Vaxi extracted the scroll she got from the Warlock, and with little regard, tore the seal apart(Vaxi swore she heard the wail of a woman in agony when she ripped the seal in half). She unrolled the inky black parchment, and within...Was nothing! Cursing in a tongue unknown to mortals, she thought she'd been tricked! Swindled! The warlock would hang for t-...And then they appeared. Runes, text, coming into view slowly, gradually, until they stood out like beacons against the endless dark of the paper they were magically inscribed upon. Glowing crimson red, like freshly spilled blood, they soon stood out in syllables, words, sentences. There was not much, merely three lines, but she knew that these three lines, would provide her with what she wanted.
She took in a deep breath, knowing she could not pause for even a moment while reading them, and began to cast the spell, her voice echoing again and again as the sound reverberated through the endlessly huge hall:

"Roth'nok il vom sohem, ilnovu hrak'vi nolek. Roth'nok il vom sohem, yok'val teshuhl. Roth'nok il vom sohem, il vom boch'shul johl. Roth'nok il vom sohem, yal'go ignol sum. Roth'nok il vom sohem, mogul'vol sohem nish'ol. Roth'nok il vom sohem, gahagnolem yokuhl sin'toh. Roth'nok il vom sohem, holag'nofal!"

Silence, but only for a moment. Suddenly, the ground beneath her feet began to shake. The lake of purple goo began to writhe and contort. Shapes began to appear; long, cylindrical shapes, long, and snake-like. Soon the entire lake had transformed from a consistency of thick slime, to an entire sprawling city of what she could only describe as tentacles. Soon, a massive body rose up from the mass of tentacles, a torso, cut off below the waist, where it seemed a vast amount of tentacles were exiting. He loomed over her, at least fifty feet tall and muscular. The odd body was entirely dark purple, except for two eyes of pitch black fire looming within his gargantuan head.
The Princess stood her ground, even as he leaned down to get a closer look at her.
"I have summoned you, Holag'nofal, foul god of the Underworld. I have found your resting place, broken the seal, and set you free. I ask only one thing in return. Serve me, and do my bidding, and I will give you what you so rightfully desire."

As her echo faded, the giant known as Holag'nofal seemed to stare at her for a long moment, before he laughed. It was frighteningly similar to the laugh of the old decrepit warlock from the dark alleyway. The laughter grew louder, and more earnest, by the second, before he suddenly stopped. His voice was dark, ominous, and immeasurably intelligent. "Vaxis Neferet, offspring of Anubis and Bastet. How quaint, that the one child I would truly enjoy breaking, is here before me. The answer is no, 'princess'." He spat, mocking the final word with a sneer. "But 'you', will serve 'me'!." And with that, tentacles began to writhe their way out of the pit, climbing onto 'shore' as it would've been, and began darting like feverish, frantic snakes towards the princess. She stumbled backwards, losing her balance. She crawled backwards, before pulling herself together and crawling through the doorway and started to bolt down the long hallway.
With a grunt, she fell again, as long as she was, her ankle having been snagged by one of the tentacles which had lunged forward with incredible speed to catch her. It coiled around her leg, and up her thigh, through her dress, before it began to tear at her clothes from within. More and more tentacles joined in, until her clothes was torn from her frame with little effort, leaving her entirely naked. She continued struggling, crawling away on all fours, and was about to get on her feet to sprint, when she heard the voice of Holag'nofal behind her: "Run, princess, and I level the entire city above our heads. You know from the stories of myth are true, and you know I do not exaggerate. "I will offer you a deal." He said. "Instead of my serving you, or you serving me, we serve each other, and I will serve you as you wish, with only one request from me." "And what is that?" The Princess yelled back towards the cave opening, her voice shaking a bit...From fear or strain from the sudden sprint? That we will never know. "Get on your hands and knees, and beg for me to fuck your tight little body until you're a panting, cum covered mess on this filthy dungeon floor, and submit to me as your equal. Do that, and I will do as 'you' ask."

The Princess was revolted...But if that's what it took to get his allegiance? "Fine!" She said, before crawling onto all fours, her ass facing the cave opening, the tentacles raising their heads up and swaying ominously, like cobras with their heads raised, ready to strike. "I submit to your perverted, lusty dominion, Holag'nofal, God of the Underworld...Please, use my body and fuck me like the arrogant whore that I am, until I can barely speak your name amongst the quivering moans and screams of desire your body gives mine."

All that followed, was the grotesque, wet, sloppy noise of flesh grinding into flesh, and turned symphonic by the moans of the Princess, as well as the quaking laughter of Holag'nofal, God of the Underworld.