Christy Ann, Meet Cephas

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As she stood gaping, the creature Mikkuli-ili chuckled in her head. "That's more like it," he purred.

"Christy Ann." Cephas' voice, like plunging those church bells into water, brought her back to her senses. "I'd like you to meet my two closest friends. The vain one is Mikkuli-ili, but you can call him Mike. The short one, I like to call Simon. He might be bossy, but he's been like that for millennia. Most of us have gotten used to it by now." He put his hand back on the head of his slave.

_________________________

"Well, aren't you going to greet them?" Christy Ann didn't know the proper greeting, being new to this sort of thing, so she looked at her master's shoulders. They shrugged as if to say, 'Do as you like," so she did the first thing that came to mind. She fell to her hands, put her butt in the air and pressed her tongue to the Roman's boot.

Why that felt like the right thing to do, she didn't know, but it just did. It was only after she made contact that she realized that it was the boot that had been in her pussy. She thought the idea of cleaning her own lubrication from his toe would turn her stomach, but on the contrary, it did a cartwheel of pure pleasure. Her inner thighs warmed and she felt her exposed outer lips contract deliciously. She tasted salty and kind of buttery, she decided, not disgusting at all. She began to lap hungrily, licking the entire surface with abandon.

"Yeah, clean that boot, you filthy slut," Simon commanded as if it had been his idea all along.

She whimpered happily as she worked, crawling on her hands and knees to move around his legs to clean the whole surface then switching to the other one. She found herself a little disappointed that his boots were so clean already as her tongue slid smoothly over the leather without a bit of grit or even a scuff to break up the slippery work.

When she was done with the Roman, she crawled to the Daemon and started again. His hooves were slightly ridged, which made her happy as her tongue deftly slid in, out, and over them. The fur tufting at the top of his hoof tickled her nose, and she found when she licked that hair, he seemed to purr low in his throat. The rumble rode down his body into hers and made her vibrate deliciously. Christy Ann decided she liked bringing Mike pleasure. She hoped her master would command her to do it more.

As she continued her pleasurable task, she was unaware of Simon and Cephas shifting out of her range of sight. Suddenly, a hand was on her ass. She paused for a moment, unsure what to do. It massaged her flesh for a moment, coaxing her to continue her work.

She put her head back down to Mike's hoof and the fur that was becoming a little damp with her ministrations.

"That's a good bitch," she heard Simon say from behind her. He played with her cheek, his hand slipping ever closer to her pussy with each pinch, squeeze, or swat. She tensed when she felt his fingers fall on her outer lips. When his fingers began to rub her slit gently, spreading her wetness around them, she lifted her head in alarm, looking for her master.

When she found him, the look of fear on her face made him give pause for a brief moment. "Please," she whispered. "I never--" but the words failed her. Was this to be part of her torture? She didn't want to be broken in, or maybe, even though she couldn't understand it, she had begun to trust her Master, and if she was going to be taken, she wanted him to do it.

To her horror, Cephas gave Simon a slight nod.

She hung her head in dejection. Suddenly, she felt a warm hand on her head, pressing her cheek against the warm, short fur of Mike's shin. It was a strange offer of comfort, but she took it, burying her brow in that fur. The hand stroked her hair gently.

Simon slipped his slender finger into her virgin hole, and even as she began to cry again, Christy Ann shuddered with pleasure. He didn't push very far, though, only going to that slight film of a barrier before retreating just as slowly.

"She's so tight and wet," Simon reported, his voice low and husky with a slight tremble. "You do have yourself a good girl here, Cephas." Simon's fingers resumed caressing her folds, working the wetness up and down her crack. Christy Ann wondered if she should continue cleaning Mike's hooves, but he hadn't moved his hand away. She didn't realize it at first, but she had begun to sway, rocking her hips in rhythm with Simon's hand, moving against his hand. She heard him chuckle and stopped herself. She wasn't going to give him any satisfaction. Even if it did feel really good.

"Tease," he muttered. Then, as if in retaliation, he slipped his finger further down beneath her, catching her quite by surprise as he fingered her swollen little clit. She twitched and yelped at the touch, and Mike's hand clamped down tighter on her head, essentially trapping her against his leg.

"What—What are you doing? What is he doing to me, Master?!" She cried out in fear. She had never felt something so intense! She didn't know if it felt good or bad. It burned, and it made the nerves leading away from her sex burn all the way to her fingers and toes. She wanted to swat Simon's hands away from her, wanted to wrench her head from Mikkuli-ili's grasp, but she was scared, so scared! She was scared to let Simon keep electrocuting her or whatever he was doing, but she was scared to make him stop, as well.

"I do believe she's never had an orgasm before, either!" Simon declared, sounding a bit awestruck to Christy Ann. She stopped squirming for a moment, processing the situation. An orgasm? Was that how one reached orgasm? If that was how it felt, she didn't know if she ever wanted to have one!

"Have you never masturbated?" It was Mike's turn to sound incredulous. He let go of her head and looked down at her between his legs. "You're human, you've got the parts! Why didn't you use them? Shit, even your precious Jesus masturbated!"

"No, he didn't. S-Sir," Christy Ann caught herself at the last moment. "I'm chaste, and so was he!"

"Were you there?" Simon replied.

"Chaste but not dead from the waist down!" Mikkuli-ili said at the same time.

Cephas chuckled his boulder-on-boulder chuckle.

Christy Ann had no reply. She was beginning to doubt everything she had been taught and had taught to others about their Savior. If he had touched himself impurely, what else had he done? If he was thus soiled, why did he have the right to send her here to be a daemon's plaything? 'No,' she thought. These were daemons, capable of lying just for the sake of it.

"Well, let's open this puppy up and see what she can do, shall we?" Simon's lascivious voice rang out as his fingers invaded her outer lips once more. She was wary of his hand going too close to what she by now had figured out was her clitoris, but she liked the feeling of his rough fingertip gliding between her folds.

"No," Cephas said. "I think, this first time, needs to have more—finesse."

"Are you saying I have no finesse?"

"No, I'm saying, it needs something... I know what's missing! Mike, push that table out to the middle of the floor, would you? Simon, go out that door and bring in as many souls as you can gather."

"Out that door?" Simon pointed to another door, one Christy Ann hadn't even seen, directly opposite of the other door. "Are you sure? That's a little unorthodox, don't you think? Are you sure you want them from that side?"

"Yes, that door! They won't know what hit them! They're all so stunned, they won't understand what's going on anyway."

"You're getting even more twisted than I ever thought..." Simon muttered as he slunk over to the far door.

Mikkuli-ili wheeled a rather expansive stainless steel table with a slight slant to it into the middle of the room, and seemingly from nowhere, a bright light was cast down on it. He picked Christy Ann up and laid her down upon the table. The sudden cold shocked her a little.

Cephas was rummaging through a cabinet. When he found what he was looking for, he handed it to Mike. It was a block of wood about three feet long and four inches wide with half-cylinders cut out of each end. "Here, put this between her calves then clip each ankle to the table. Put her hands above her head and clip those down, too." For a second, Christy Ann thought Cephas looked like a little boy at Christmas—albeit a giant, muscly, furry little boy. Whatever he had in mind for her, she didn't think she was going to be too comfortable with it as Mike spread her legs wide and locked them in place. The wood efficiently kept her from closing her legs at all.

Cephas went to the basin and filled a bowl with water. He placed it on a tray with a towel and a few other things, though she couldn't see what they were. And that was when the lost souls began to wander in. They came wearing all styles and manner of clothing, some tattered and old, others freshly pressed and stylish. They came with different shades of skin and different hairstyles, but they all wore the same confused and frightened looks on their faces.

When they saw what was before them, some looked down and away, having the sense to look embarrassed. Others goggled and even drooled. Some looked absolutely mortified. Simon herded them through the door, looking a little unsure but still intrigued at Cephas' great plan. He situated the lost and wandering souls around the table, just out of Christy Ann's peripheral vision, outside the pool of light.

"Oh, we're gonna have some fun, now!" Cephas winked at Mikkuli-ili as he brought the tray to the table and set it at Christy Ann's side. She saw a scissors, a razor, and a can of shaving cream, and she knew what Cephas had in store. She felt her vaginal walls tighten and drip happily. She sighed and closed her eyes, tears of gratitude slipping down her cheeks and pooling in her ears.

"Why is she crying, now?" Simon sighed as he took a spot at her right elbow.

"Because I'm about to give my new pet a little treat," Cephas answered. "She's been such a good girl on her first day."

"This is a treat?"

Cephas shrugged as he took up the scissors. The first slice seemed to echo through the chamber, and the crowd let out a collective sigh as the little tuft of curly brown hair fluttered down to lie between her legs. It was liberating to Christy Ann. She'd never felt more alive than she did in that moment of her death. Having all eyes on her as she was uncovered was simply freeing. She didn't know what it meant; she had doubts about everything she'd ever known, but this act of letting someone lay her raw for dozens of people to see felt like clearing a slate.

When the hair was cut short, Cephas poured a bit of water over her mound. The loose hairs washed down the slanted table onto the floor. Dozens of eyes watched it make its way to the floor drain as if entranced. Even Mike and Simon watched it go.

The sudden jarring noise of the shaving cream can being sprayed snapped all eyes back to Cephas. He put a liberal amount of the white foam on his giant, clawed fingers, and was massaging it into her shortened pubic hair. He was very thorough, sliding each lip between his thumb and forefinger. His pet wriggled, slippery, beneath him. He ran his index finger between her cheeks, though he had no intention of shaving there. Then, he pushed his finger into her hole, even though there was no hair there to shave.

Christy Ann wasn't prepared for this. Her fantasies had only gone so far as to be stripped hairless in front of the crowd. Was she prepared to let go and let her Master do this? Touch her in these most intimate ways? Did she have a choice? No, this was her punishment to bear, and she would bear it. Besides, it felt so good! His fingers were so much wider, and the ridges stood out so much more prominently than Simon's had. When he pushed his finger inside of her, she felt him bend it slightly upward and rub against the front wall of her vagina. A delicious shiver overcame her, and she wanted him to do it again. It was hot but not as hot as the little button Simon had pushed.

He obliged her unspoken appeal and made slow, 'come hither' motions with that finger. She began to moan low in her throat and started to writhe on the table in time to his movements. Had she been able to see herself, she would've thought she looked like a snake undulating on the table. She flowed, first her head and shoulders rising and falling, then her back. Then, her hips would lift, followed by her knees. Then, she'd start again at her head.

"Oh, Master, that feels ssssso good," she moaned, completing the snake allusion.

He used his other hand to pour the rest of the water over her hips, washing away all the cream he had put down so lovingly. He continued to slowly fuck her with his finger. She looked up at him in confusion, but he responded by biting her softly on the side.

"Rule number one, Pet: don't look me in the eye," but he was smiling, his fierce, pointed teeth not scaring her in the least. "Now, I'll have to punish you again." He sighed as if it pained him, but instead of stopping, he slid his tongue along her flesh to her mound. Before she knew it was coming, he wrapped his lips around that frightful little button.

"Oh, Sweet Jesus, forgive me!" She cried out as her hips bucked. It didn't hurt at all! In fact, it was a warm, liquid burn that flowed outward as he licked and sucked. He sped up his finger to match her bucking, and she rode wave after wave of pleasure. But it kept building in intensity, and she began to become fearful again, wondering how far it would go and if it would break her. Maybe that was the nature of her punishment, to be forever broken, a slave not to Cephas, but to her wanton lust. Was she forever to burn this way? Not in a brimstone fire, but a lustful one? It seemed that would fit her sin.

Cephas seemed to sense that her mind had wandered, so he bit her lightly again, this time right on her little nub. She howled up at the bright light, her mind wandering no more as her climax crashed into her. She shuddered so violently, Mikkuli-ili almost moved to restrain her. The heat in her belly literally became liquid and flowed from her, between her thighs, over Cephas' hand. After many moments, as her mind cleared, she looked tearfully at him again, embarrassed that she had wet herself in her stupor, and in front of all these people.

But he smiled at her.

As Simon began to lead the throng back out the door from whence they came, Mikkuli-ili put the board away, and Cephas undid the restraints, letting her shackles fall to the floor. He helped her off the table, and she instantly dropped to her knees, now baring her cropped hair instead of the thick, luxurious bush she had had only moments ago. She laced her hands behind her head and stared at Cephas' feet. She would do anything her Master asked as long as he watched over her, took care of her, and, hopefully, brought her to orgasm like that again.

"Look's like you've got yourself a forever pet," Simon said, coming to stand next to him.

"Perhaps," Cephas mused. "Let's see." He went back to the cabinet and retrieved a small box.

"You think you're ready for this?" Mikkuli-ili asked. "I mean, you're a pretty busy guy."

"Well, let's just see if she accepts me, first." He came back to stand between his friends, in front of Christy Ann's small but steady frame.

He knelt down in front of her and opened the box. Inside was a small band that looked like it was made of pure light. It was too big to be a bracelet, maybe a crown of some kind. A halo? Christy Ann started to grow angry again; it seemed Cephas mocked the Holy Tenets every chance he got. But the look in his eyes wasn't mocking in the least. Hanging from it were a tiny blue-gray stone, like polished granite, and a golden key. They seemed like odd things to Christy Ann. What did they mean?

"Christy Ann. You bared yourself in front of all of those people. You lost that careful sense of control you prize so much. You allowed yourself to be free for the first time. It's just a shame it didn't happen until after your death. But, you did something even more special; you did it and still loved Jesus. You may have had your moments of doubt, but you were unwavering in your devotion. That means everything to me.

"Now, you don't understand this yet, but you have a choice. You've always had a choice. This is a collar. You could accept it and be mine, or you can walk out that door without it. The choice has no bearing on your immortal soul, but it does to mine. I would be deeply saddened if you didn't accept me as your master—at least for a little while." Did Cephas blush just then? It was hard to tell with the blue-skinned beast.

"I promise you don't have to stay in this room forever," he continued, "but out there is a place of restraint. You'll come to understand that. It isn't about rampant pleasure and earthly delights, though clearly we have those here. My place is here; my duty is to those lost souls out that door, so you'd have to come to me every now and again. Will you? Will you wear my collar and be mine, maybe for a millennium or two?" He shrugged, bowing his great shaggy head.

Christy Ann took the collar from the box. It weighed nothing as if it really were made of light. Why wouldn't she choose this daemon that had been so good to her, giving her things she'd always dreamed about but was too ashamed to take? She placed it near her neck, and the ring seemed to melt and reform around it. She let go, and it stayed there. She fingered the tiny rock and key.

"Now, there is one more thing you should know--"

"One more?" Simon snorted. Mikkuli-ili rolled his eyes, if such a feat was possible with pure black eyeballs.

"Well, one more thing I'm going to show you before I send you out to explore." Cephas amended. "You're dead. You don't have a body. The way you look, the physical sensations you have, are changeable. Your immortal soul has no form. Your hair that I clipped, I didn't clip. Or, I did, depending on how you view yourself. I was once a living man, too. This form I've taken, of the daemon—or what you thought a daemon should look like—is not my original form but a form I took for you."

With that, Cephas seemed to melt, losing bulk and paling considerably. He took on the form of a man with dark hair and tan skin. He was rather short, maybe five and a half feet tall, and he was certainly no monster. Still, he retained certain traits of his daemon form. His eyes were still pale gray. His body was still wide, though not necessarily muscular—-hard-working was the word that came to Christy Ann's mind. And his face was still full of sharp angles at this cheekbones, jaw, and brows. He may have been in his early thirties. Christy Ann was awed by his simple handsomeness. He wore robes similar to Simon's but in a color slightly paler than his own skin.

"This is the form I choose to assume here. This is how I looked when Joshua found me."

"Joshua?"

"Jesus."

Cephas stood by the door, the door Simon and Mikkuli-ili had come in, the one opposite the door the waiting souls had come and gone through. He opened it wide, spilling a bright light into the room.

"Welcome to the gates of Heaven, Christy Ann," Saint Peter said, kissing her on the forehead. The kiss flowed away from his lips, a cooling wave. "Go on and meet your maker. And Joshua is very excited to welcome you, himself. But, remember, you promised to come back to me and be my pet."

Christy Ann looked at each of the men in turn, waiting for the punch line, but they simply smiled encouragingly back at her. She took a tentative step toward the door, and when they didn't stop her, she held her head high and walked through into the Light. She was crying again, but this time, the tears were of pure joy. Jesus was waiting for her. She would return to her Master, St. Peter, keeper of the key to Heaven, but first, she would meet her Savior.