The Lord of the Jiz Fiends

As you may already know from my early accounts of the terrors of Hell awaiting those of the most perverse sexually prioritized lifestyles, who live not only for sexual satisfaction alone, but for the depraved and most unnatural sexual activities, there is a stinking vile sea called the Fetid Jiz Sea.

There is an island there, not the one where souls condemned to that pit as their gateway of rebirth into immortal life, but another island where there lives a great fiend and the dominant alpha jiz fiend over all jiz fiends. All jiz fiends vie for the title of Lord of the Jiz Fiends and using obscene amounts of discarded semen to fuel their demonic powers of carnage and lust blended together as a single desire to kill and sate their monstrously insatiable gluttony, they battle over the title ceaselessly.

However, it takes many centuries for a jiz fiend to have the power levels to even approach the Lord of the Jiz Fiend, and even then each time one is defeated, the Lord of the Jiz Fiend grows in power. There has only ever been one Lord of Jiz Fiends as far as we know.

On that other island in the Fetid Jiz Sea, there is a horrific palatial lair, but you would never know it because it is behind a great storm of jiz being flung about at maddeningly high speed.

Why should you care? Because it is those who drink too much of the fetid waters of that hated place and fail to escape before losing themselves to a deeper torment who enter that storm and never return.

They hunger and thirst as normal, and lacking all food and water, they drink from the foul malodorous liquid made ever more foul by the boiling sewage that geysers up from within it when portable outhouses are filled with enough discarded jiz. Due to the particularly unpleasant nature of some outhouses, they are relocated into the sewerquifers underneath the Fetid Jiz Sea due to there being no other acceptable place for their contents anywhere else in the multiverse. Those are heated up geothermally and occasionally release pressure in the form of superheated geysers, but I digress. We can discuss the plumbing infrastrure of the multiverse at another time. If that was not bad enough, it is further befouled by the rotting corpses of the countless failed escapees and the shoreline caked with always fresh vomit.

If a soul drinks of that putrid mixture and does not vomit, they begin to enjoy the taste and hunger for it more and more. The next thing you know they lose all desire to escape and simply want to gorge themselves.

Such is how they lose all semblance of humanity from their soul and begin taking on the more putrid appearance of what they will eventually become. The more they lose themselves, the more they begin to hear the resonance of the jiz fiend calling to them through the Fetid Jiz Sea and distinguish it from the resonance of all the unnatural, hellish life spawning spontaneously from within it. That hellish life does so as an affront against creation and are pure evil inspired mindlessly as a side effect of the Evil One’s permeating hate from its most primal core so reviled that it is beyond the reach of comprehension because of how horrible it is to even begin to comprehend it. Those vile things are truly among the most horrific and monstrous creatures in all existence. I would describe them, but there are only a few known species to remain constant there, and those migrated from the elsewhere in the Hellish realms with a different origin of their existence. All the other teeming life is constantly new and malformed hideously with the senseless reasons of evil hatred behind their shape.

Nevertheless, as the souls bereft of their humanity hear the call of the Jiz Fiend, they swim to the Isle of the Lord of the Jiz Fiends, not to be mistaken with the Jiz Lord. Let’s take a time-out here for an important point: I want to emphasize that you never mistake the Lord of the Jiz Fiends with the Jiz Lord, especially not in Hell, because that abomination is a mockery of the Jiz Lord and it is a great offense to the majority of Hell denizens if that is confused because of how popular the Jiz Lord is in Hell.

Story-on: There are no accounts of that creature’s being or form, only that which has been painstaking pieced together through whatever could interpreted from the crude language of jiz fiends by those who have made a study of such things. Even those accounts are too diverse in description and madness from the fiends’ incoherent babbling in the gurgling manner they have of communicating. As a result, no useful information can be derived from them.

Whatever that being may be, the lost souls swim their way to the source of the resonance and pass through the storm of jiz that surrounds the place. It is a fierce, unnaturally high pressure wind system made of the Lord of the Jiz Fiends’ fluids being flung about at megasuperhurricane force windspeed. The vileness is held in that virtually solid wall of raging fluid by resonating with the Lord of the Jiz Fiend’s psionic rhythm that interconnects all of its kind through discarded jiz. It is a barrier of such violent force that it strips the flesh off the bones of those who pass through it.

Surrounding that infernatural evil barrier are the countless flesh remains of all those lost souls to enter it. It is like the oozing infected wound around a festering zit that is more like a geographical cataclysm than a blemish on cursed land. There are seamless piles of flayed skin and distended organs torn apart chaotically forming an ever-moist swamp of blood all the way to shores of the Fetid Jiz Sea. There are however no bones within the remains and that much is confirmed. Not a single bone litters that ghastly beach.

It is theorized by most fiendemonologists that the bones of the souls who enter it make it through and collapse just beyond the hellish jizwinds and surround the outer walls of the lair within. What remains of their spirit without their flesh and bones is believed to pass inside those walls, and there is nothing at all known about what happens beyond that. What little is known was recorded from a single sketchy account of unethical data acquired by evil experimentation using live subjects with psionic tethers and forced through. The tether did not last beyond the walls. That was more of a sadistic frivolity than a proper study anyway, and one that leaves the very subtle impression that it was a regrettable experience for the psionic as well.

There is little else known about it because most things avoid the Fetid Jiz Sea at all costs, to include researchers. Researchers have little interest mainly because it is so horrible of a place to visit and with no apparent value for study when there are seemingly infinite other mysteries to investigate with the boundaries of the possible constantly being expanded. The other reason is that the ability to create psionic tethers with the power capable of forcing a being intelligent enough to convey the necessary information coherently to such a death as that are rare even in Hell because of how fundamentally repulsed a living spirit is by that place. Those with such power have never expressed any significant interest in devoting their resources to that research aside from an offhand comment about having more important matters to concern themselves with than jiz fiends. Several other methods have been tested, but all methodology hasn’t been anywhere close to being exhausted due to overwhelming lack of willingness to support an interest. However, those tested methods seem to indicate that only living organic flesh seems to be able to pass through.

The point is, that the theories suggest that those souls devoid of all humanity that was replaced instead with a perverse and unnaturally fiendish lust for consuming befouled, discarded jiz are believed to become larva jiz fiends. Those beings, potentially more horrific than a fully metamorphosed and mature jiz fiend depending on your displeasures, are occasionally seen undulating their way through the gore of rent flesh like carnivorous rat sized hellmaggots and disappearing into the Fetid Jiz Sea to begin their lives as fiends.

The moral of the story… how about: just because something doesn’t seem like it can get worse, it definitely can.