tagErotic HorrorThe Cult of the Lamia Ch. 09

The Cult of the Lamia Ch. 09

byGethelred©

It was raining. Michelle hurried from shelter to shelter, trying- unsuccessfully- to remain unwet. She had been scoping out several bars, hoping to locate another cultist. They wanted to find out the identity of someone higher than a simple member, to get some hard information on the numbers, and what they might be up against. Cassie had been optimistic, thinking that, if they caught someone higher up they would "convince" them to not kidnap people- maybe even not kill. Mark, on the other hand, was not convinced, but he wanted to try.

Mark was in the next town, running his mind across as much territory as he could. Michelle was stunned by the sheer amount of his abilities; he could sink into any mind, any thought, and shift it to his will. Any fantasy, any need, he inserted himself into in a way that was almost artistic. He was getting stronger too; his range had grown, as had his control. He could walk through a room and touch every mind inside individually, and coax a response from them all. He had even worked out a way to feed subconsciously, but he still had sex as often as he could.

She caught something, away to her left. Both a noise, and a thought. He was chasing someone. But his mind was strange; it was a mass of mirrors and broken glass. Her thoughts reflected off him like the rain off her body. She locked on.

She had noticed, fairly early on, that she could do that. Lock on to someone, and make them want her, even need her. She hadn't tested the edges yet, but she was fairly sure she was stronger than Cassie. They way she was made had made her powerful beyond even Mark. Just as Mark could link minds individually, she could tell how hot everyone in a room was without looking. With her eyes closed, she could read everything as a heat signature. Her mind reading was different too; when they spoke, Mark said his was kind of like listening to far away music, and that he could catch snatches when he tuned in. For her it was like everyone was a piece of art, all conflicting colours and shapes that made perfect sense in her head. This image that she got of this one was interesting.

She saw a more complete picture now. He was definitely a cultist, but he wasn't looking for a man. He was searching for a woman, and a particular woman at that. She saw something along the lines of a rite, involving a girl being bent over an altar, and a man standing above her with a dagger. The image was from the man's perspective, and she smiled. They had found their high cultist.

She followed him, into the bar. He was relatively attractive; dark good looks, muscular but not ridiculous. He was taller than Michelle by at least a few feet, topping 6.5, probably. A big man, and a dangerous one. There was something about his mind, a sort of buffer that Michelle had never encountered before. The picture she encountered was hazy, as though some of it was shrouded by fog, rendering her unable to see through it.

The cultist chatted up a blonde, and the woman was more than receptive. She leant towards the cultist, a smile toying at the corner of her mouth. The blonde was attractive, but she wasn't really anything special. The cultist leant in, and spoke into the blonde's ear, and she got up, and sauntered towards the door.

Michelle had lost them in the alleys. She was trying to locate them both with her mind, but they were nowhere. It was as though they had both vanished.

She wasn't paying attention, and tripped over a bin. Cursing, she stood up to see that she had walked down a service lane for a restaurant. Great. A dead end.

Michelle turned around. But her senses were better than Marks were; she heard the footsteps behind her. She spun, and the woman was there, swinging a frying pan at her head, and then she saw nothing.

Thwak!!!

Owww, Michelle thought. That hurt.

She opened her eyes. She was in a similar chamber to the one Mark had in his basement, the one they used for interrogating cultists. Michelle came to certain conclusions at this point.

"You know the best thing about torturing a Grigori?" a male voice said, from the shadows in front of her. "Not only can I not really hurt you, but I can't even damage you; not at least by using conventional methods. I can hit you, and hurt you to my heart's content, and you won't be any different. I don't have to worry about holding back. It's fantastic." The voice was childlike in tone, but the depth of the voice was adult.

"I would ask you why you are searching for us, but that's not really the question, is it? You are Grigori; you are built to be good, but have sin embedded inside you. You, who abandoned heaven to walk the world, fucking mortals to retain the spark of the divine inside of you. But the question is, why are you trying to find us now? We have been here, in this world, for millennia; why are you only just interfering now?"

Michelle shook her head. "What the FUCK," she said, quite definitely," is a Grigori?"

She felt the movement behind her, and flinched away just as the club whistled over head.

"Don't play with me. I can, and I will hurt you. I want to."

He was a tiny, small man. She could see all of his ribs, as well as the bones in his shoulders. His face was animated, infused with mad passion. he was naked, and Michelle couldn't help but look down. He had easily the biggest cock she had ever encountered. It stood high against his stomach, looking faintly ridiculous given his height and width, but it throbbed with need. She shivered.

He cackled. "That's right, my dear. You know what I am, don't you? An actual, Iive and in the flesh- literally- incubus demon. Not like the fake your friend Mark is pretending to be."

He laughed again, but this time his laughter was genuine. He was watching Michelle's face.

"You really have no idea what you are, do you? That's funny. You have so much power, so much potential, but you are so very ignorant!"

"Incubi are not formed, are not flesh; they are summoned into a host from hell. I am possessing this meatsack for the express purpose of making your world the hell that you will never experience."

"Fun, fun, funn..." He murmered, his voice trailing away as he turned around.

He spun completely, his face thoughtful as he began and animated when she saw it next, and she felt truly scared for the first time.

"What do you know of us?" the man said, his entire being waiting for her to refuse. Michelle could see into his mind, and knew what he wanted, what he would do if she didn't do what he wanted. She saw his desire, and smiled inwardly. He was so, so stupid.

She shook her head.

The cultist sprung forwards, his expression pure and utter insanity, his cock hitting his stomach as he moved. She lunged back; he wanted her to fight, and it would finish better if she did what he wanted.

She planted her heels firmly at the centre of his chest, leaning back as she kicked him hard. She felt the bones under his skin break, and saw him topple over. She rolled over, as the kick had left her on her back, but before she had even gotten to one side she felt his hands on her, rolling her backwards.

He wrestled with her, his wiry strength barely enough to hold her arms in place. She was tied to the chair, and that aided her efforts; he couldn't keep her body in the position he wanted for very long.

Finally, he had enough. He tore out the bottom of her chair, the cane wicker screeching as he bared her ass. She shrieked as he rolled her onto her knees.

He grabbed her hips and forced his tongue into her pussy, and she squirmed, trying to get away. She fought his hold, but thrust her hips back at him; this would be easier and far, far more pleasurable for her if she was at least a little horny.

She had noticed, ever since she had been turned that her appetite had expanded; she found that she was more than attracted all sorts of guys, whatever their looks or their skill. She wanted it all.

It came as no surprise to her that she actually enjoyed it as forced his full length inside her.

He loved it, as she twisted her pussy around him, tightening her hold. She had him now, had his cock. She had his life hard up inside of her, thrusting, ready. She could take him whenever she wished.

He withdrew almost all the way out of her before thrusting back in; because his cock was so long, the movement actually took quite a bit of movement, and required him to step backwards, before stepping back again. Michelle supposed she looked a tad ridiculous, with this tiny man's huge cock fucking into her, but she didn't care.

The thought barely brushed her mind before it vanished, as he thrust again, and again. He was huge, and it would have hurt had she been anyone else. He filled her like she had never. And it was more than that; she thrust back at him, driving him deeper, wanting more.

He withdrew, sensing her eagerness. She couldn't read his mind at the moment, but she felt what he was doing. She wriggled her ass, moving her bound hands to spread her asscheeks, as he forced the head of his cock into her ass. She gasped; for the first time since she had been turned, it hurt. It hurt like absolute hell. He cock was far too big, and too thick, for her to take it the way he was. He thrust, paying her no heed to her pain, and he forced his entire cock within her. She moved away compulsively, away from his cock, but he grabbed her hips just before they swelled out, and used the grip to fuck her harder. She cried out, but the sound was purely pain. Desire had fled.

Michelle surrendered to the movement, allowing him her body at his leisure. She couldn't stop him, couldn't stop the sheer pain of him fucking her ass, so she just let herself drift, leaving her body.

She felt his emotions; sheer bliss, lust. He loved it, causing her to hurt. She could feel his orgasm building. She was beyond thought, tensing around him, bringing him closer. She sipped his life well before he came, and drank deeply as he began.

He cried out, his orgasm huge, powerful. He loved it, loved the power, loved fucking without consent. And this was a prize beyond all others; a Grigori. One of God's own.

She stoked his heat, swallowing his soul harder and harder. She took him within her, and she loved it, wanted it far more than he did. The deeper she drank, the harder he came, his semen flooding into her.

He should have died already, she thought at last, still draining him. She looked over her shoulder, at him. He was even more emaciated, his bones creating crevices between his ribs. His cock was still hard, but he was pale, almost to the point of being pallid.

"It won't work on me, girl. I am possessing this body. You can drain it as much as you like. It just makes me feel better. Imagine, you trying to kill my meat just to get to me?"

She stopped, almost vomiting. She still couldn't penetrate deeply, but she could see his possession on the surface of the man's mind.

She held her breath. She felt around, sensing the demon's mind, the possession. She stroked it, bringing it closer, tugging at the hold it had over the body. She stroked him to an orgasm again, using the muscles around his cock to squeeze and stoke him to greater heights. But now she drew on the possessing spirit within him, drawing his power first, then weakening his hold on the body. She felt the demon struggling, and took the last of his strength away, and the man cried out, the freedom combined with the fact that his cock was still in her making him flood into her again.

That was all she needed.

She took the demon within her, and was filled with the greatest orgasm of her life. She felt him struggling, fighting to find a way out of her hold, but she stemmed his battle, and sipped his mind, his strength ebbing away. The sensation of him losing, of his soul conceding all sense of self, burned within her, and she arched her back, moaning her pleasure.

"Stop. I would not have the host harmed."

Michelle came back to herself. The man still was inside her ass, and he was still coming hard. His soul was almost free of his body, and it took force of will for her not to take it out of hand. She began to think again.

"Why? If you want him, he is my only bargaining chip. If you don't, then I could well use the energy."

The voice came again, this time from the corner away to Michelle's right. She could see the faint silhouette, but no details.

"Do not take him. If you let us have him, we will ensure you are freed. But we wish to talk first." Michelle relaxed her muscles around his cock, and drew herself forwards. The silhouette came out of the shadows; it was a woman, and she had a similar mind to the man. A demon, then.

"Why are you trying to stop us, Grigori? We are not affecting you; we are not harming you at all. You have never interfered at any other point. Why?"

Michelle smiled. "All you had to do was ask nicely."

The woman stared back stonily. She was small, even giving Michelle a run for her money. Her face was pixie-like, her cheekbones framing a set of penetrating blue eyes.

"You are kidnapping men and women, and killing them as sacrifices to your god, or whatever. We are telling you, stop. Do not kill people, or hurt them in any way, and we will have no issue. Continue the way you have been, and we will be forced to end you."

The demon looked at her, her face carved porcelain. She wore fairly normal clothing; tight, tight jeans, a clinging top, but the centrepiece was the necklace.

It was ornate, wrought silver surrounding a huge black stone. Michelle would have said onyx, but this stone did not seem to reflect the light of the room. She took her eyes off it, and returned back to the woman's face.

"Is that all? I find this ironic, considering that you have to kill to survive yourself."

"What do you mean?"

The demon sighed. "Do not play dumb at me. I know all about how Grigori feed, how they act. You are the first watchers we have encountered for a millennia, and we defeated them last time. You need human life force to survive as we do; do not play moralist with me."

Michelle couldn't hold it in any longer. "Sorry, but what the Fuck are you talking about?"

The demon looked at her strangely, then laughed with genuine amusement.

"Do you really not know? About anything?"

Michelle looked at her, expectantly. The demon smiled widely.

"So, at what price to demand this information? What have you to trade for it? I know something that you want to know, so what to do with it?" Michelle leant closer. "You forget, I could leave you without your life, demon."

The demon's grin widened. "You know what, I would like to watch you try. I'll tell you, but only so you know what you are actually up against.

"At some point in history, God became aware of our activities, and sent down from heaven some lesser angels to be the Watchers of mankind. Two hundred angels, who watched the human race. But they saw the men, and the women, and they all decided to fall, as had Lucifer, so as to sample the pleasures of human life. The process of falling endowed you with different abilities than you would have experienced as a full angel, but it allowed you to survive with your powers intact for longer. You can replenish your batteries by fucking, by absorbing orgasmic energy. Your god, it seems, has an extreme sense of humour.

"Because you are damned, far more than we could ever be. We were merely human souls, sent to hell to serve. You had evidence of the divine, and you threw it away for pussy. Or cock. And you are condemned to watch this world until the end of days."

The demon sat back. "You know what, I think I will let you go. Most of the other watchers have forgotten who they are too, and the rest simply do not care. But then..."

Michelle felt the light intensify on her body, and she saw nothing as the blow came to the back of her head.

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