Angel

A creak warned her, but too late; the chair collapsed under her, spilling her onto the ground, bottom-first. Lilith let out a scream of rage. Didn’t anything work here?

She knew what needed to be done: summon herself another chair. It was a simple spell, just wanting it, and it was there. But nothing happened. She concentrated harder, sending out her mind to try and find one to summon. But she was halted at the walls of the chamber. There was some strong magic holding her in.

She felt the walls surge as she stopped trying, and lifted herself from the floor. She beat her wings to help hoist her body up. Nothing happened.

It is a well-known fact that a bird with no feathers cannot fly. It’s the same thing with angels.

She collapsed onto the floor, her bare, fleshy “wings” moved in a supplicating way. Crawling on hands and knees, she leaned against the bed and picked up one of her longest feathers. It crumbled in her hand.

She closed her eyes, feeling the small amount of power she had left pulsating slowly. It was a sobering moment for Lilith: she had never been without her powers; even the most complex spells had been easy for the only female angel in Heaven.

She sank even further onto the ground, knowing something horrible was about to befall her: this day had started out wonderfully and had progressed into a horribly atrocious day slowly enough that she hadn’t noticed it until now. But, she reasoned, surely God will wonder what’s taking me so long?

It was the surging of the walls that warned her: the influx of power; the light sizzling noise as the fabric of space was brusquely stretched like an elastic band.

Lilith knew what it meant: imps. The putrid little buggers were trying to get in. Well, whatever held her in would hold them out, right? Right?

This was just not her day.

With a rending scream, the heartstring walls gave way to a surge of writhing, biting, scaly bodies. They weren’t as many as they looked, she knew. Maybe a dozen, maybe even a half-dozen, but Lilith knew that with most of her powers gone, she had no chance of fighting them all off.

A leering face caught her by the hair, wrenching her around towards him. He jabbered in Tongues, his excitement forcing him to shake with his restrained urges. Another demon latched onto her ankles and stroked his tongue along the bottom of her foot, tasting some kind of heavenly residue. Lilith squirmed when she saw the slimy gray saliva it left behind. More imps swarmed onto her, yanking her extremities away from her body, and bathing her in sulfurous spit.

She was whimpering, spread-eagled on the floor, an exceptionally large imp hefting one of her fleshy thighs out of the way, giving him access to her pussy. It had materialized a large, mud-brown erection, slightly above where she knew it should be, and was having several other demons coat it in saliva.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said hoarsely. The large demon glared up at her from under a protruding cranial ridge. It made a motion with its hips, the penis swaying ominously towards Lilith’s opening. She backed up from it as well as she could, her other captors holding fast despite ample lubrication. She knew they’d waited for this for a long time: perhaps the large one was one of her fellow messengers.

Her eyes welled up with tears, gleaming a faint pink with her reflected power. The large demon let out a sound like a dying mountain, or a man trying to pass a kidney stone: a laugh. It sent shivers down her spine, and she gathered what little power she had left, preparing for one last mighty blast.

As the demon grabbed a hip, drawing back for a swift entry, she let it rip: a flash of white light so strong, it would have made the Hubble telescope explode. That is exactly what happened to several imps in her vicinity. But the blast hadn’t had the power she’d expected: the others were only slightly stunned, temporarily blinded, at the most. She was spent now; there was no hope of fighting them off.

As they closed in, Lilith sent a silent plea Heavenward, but she knew no one would hear it.

Another large imp (she was sure it was once a Heavenly messenger) positioned itself cautiously between her legs, its phallus much smaller than the first.

She clenched her eyes shut against it, waiting for the entry. Waiting… waiting. Nothing happened. Oh great, she thought, they aren’t even going to get it over with. She cracked an eye open, searching for an imp, but there were none to be beheld.

Instead, Satan, ever in his black designer outfit, stood surveying the mess of the room: the bed was now completely destroyed- from the sex and the blast-, it lay in a charred mass; the chair was transformed into a coating of black mud- it had mixed with the imps’ disgusting discharge-, and Lilith lay in a frightened and exhausted heap on the floor, her bony wings twitching with her in-drawn breath.

“Lilith?” Lucifer crouched by her hunched body, prodding her gently with an immaculate hand.

She spun so quickly, he hardly had time to react: the last remnant of her power had centered cruelly in her eyes, and they burned red with a menace he did not recognize. Her voice, as she spoke, ground out of her mouth without passing her vocal cords: “Do not touch me.”

The angel lifted herself from the floor, her arms straining with the weight of her wing structure. Satan rose with her; his surprise had left him with few thoughts.

“Lilith…”

“You abandoned me,” came the grinding voice. “You left me to fend for myself in a world where I have no power of my own!” Her ember eyes flared and her voice rising to a rumbling shout.

It was then that her body- in the human sense- took over, preserving itself at all cost. The angel raised her hands, knowing somewhere inside, that there was no more angelic power to draw from; there was no way she could fight the Prince of Darkness.

And so, her body sucked the power it craved from the very Universe around her. Her fists came down on his chest, releasing a flash of hot light. Her rage was welling up inside, and spilling over. It was more than Satan could bear; he could feel her drawing the energy out of his realm. Could this possibly be a ploy of God’s to bring about his downfall? Had the Almighty sent this angelic temptress to destroy his Burning Elysium? But, no, Lilith did not have the capacity to lie so thoroughly; despite her self-delusions of being the greatest angel, she had hardly any of the free-will humanity so cherished.

Lilith brought her fist around in a glowing arc, catching the Devil squarely on the chin. She exuded burning power, her eyes blazed with Satan’s power.

“Lilith…” Satan’s voice held a warning she ignored. She leapt into the air, bringing her knee down where his ribcage would’ve been if he hadn’t rolled away. The stone floor cracked under her momentum. She glared up at him from under her tumble of tangled bronze hair; a canine growl was released from her throat. A chunk of what was left of her halo fell away, out of her vision. Lilith felt her power swell, but through the red haze of her rage, didn’t care why.

Rage.

Satan gripped her tiny wrist in a bruising clench before she finished the punishing swing. He caught her up against his chest, staring down into her flaming eyes, the fuscia blaze rimmed with her original black.

“It will consume you, Lilith, and you know it.” Her eyes dimmed almost imperceptibly. It was all the acknowledgment he needed. He ran his fingers into her hair, tugging at the snags. “You are still an angel.”

“Of course I am an Angel,” she ground out. She tried to pull her wrist out of his grasp, but he held firm, daring her to try to hit him again.

“But your halo is almost gone, and you have lost your powers.” She glared up at him, the red in her eyes fading to a washed-out pink; he could still see sparks of anger under the surface.

“Then why can I do this…?” She closed her eyes and her shape shifted in his grasp like oiled silk. In an instant, she looked like an old crone, the next, beautiful Rebecca, coming to rest in her original shape. The Devil sucked in his breath: few of the other angels had been able to shape-shift so easily, and none using Satan’s power so effortlessly.

“Because-”

“Because I’m absorbing the power out of Hell, and using it for myself?” She looked at him in innocent surprise, as if the words that had come out of her mouth had not even passed through her mind, but had moved through him into her. “Why is it, exactly,” she said in her normal voice, “that my halo is disintegrating?”

He swallowed convulsively. “Because you have sinned. A lot.”

“I’ve sinned before,” she pouted. “But I regenerated every time.”

“Not this time. You’re in Hell now, there is no God to give you back what you use up.” Lilith scowled at him, stretching what was left of her wings, reveling in her newfound power.

Satan looked harder at her, finally noticing the changes that had come over her: her skin was sallow instead of her usual rosy glow; her shining power-laden eyes were constantly a black-rimmed red; her halo was definitely blackened, and about two-sevenths was left.

She stepped closer to him, her extended nipples brushing against his chest. Her smile was feral, and didn’t reach her eyes, but Lucifer knew the signs: she was turning demon without the benefit of stopping being an angel. He reached out to stroke her breast, leaving a streak of clear skin. Lilith moaned and crushed her body to his, wrapping her arms around his neck. She reached between them and grabbed his hard-on roughly.

Satan gritted his teeth as Lilith kneeled in front of him and melted his fly with her powers. His pants fell away, giving her open access to the penis a few inches away from her face. She engulfed him in one swallow, the wet heat of her mouth scalding yet tender. Her lips were already becoming swollen when she leaned back to bite gently on the very tip of his erection. She gripped the base of his hard-on, licking the knot of skin just behind the head. Satan’s hands clenched in the mass of her hair, pressing insistently on her head to take him further.

She obliged cheerfully, sucking him into her throat and allowing her body’s gag reaction to swallow convulsively, effectively milking him with her throat.

Satan didn’t notice Lilith gripping the backs of his knees until he was flat on his back, her soot-dusted pussy thrust in front of his mouth. He leaned forward, drawing her glistening opening to his mouth.

He traced the outline of her labia, sucking gently on her clitoris every time he passed it. Lilith groaned around him, sending erotic tingles up his spine.

They quickly fell into a symbiotic rhythm: with every thrust of his tongue, she sucked his whole length into her mouth; whenever she licked the head of his cock, he responded with a light nip to her clit.

Finally, out of breath and aching for more than his tongue inside her, Lilith sat up, leaving Satan’s rock-hard cock to arch against his ridged abdomen.

She settled onto him, her ample fluids slicking the way. Her sigh hung in the air like a dim flame. Satan hazily noted her burgeoning powers. Her generously proportioned body undulated slowly, her hips turning slow circles; Satan’s hands found her waist, guiding her ever lower, and him ever deeper.

The pair arced and writhed together, apparently too absorbed in their copulating to take note that Lilith’s powers were once again changing the scenery around them: it grew dark- the blackness was something they were both used to: it was the dark of Eternity, when nothing had existed but God and the Thought of a new universe; then sputtering sconces lit the blackness they were engulfed in and the Prince of Darkness could feel the sleek, warm marble shift to rough, icy cobbles. He dug his heels into the new ground, using the purchase to thrust more swiftly into the angel.

Lilith was incapable of thought, except riding the tides of her pleasure: she was totally unaware that anything had changed, except that the Devil was moving in her more swiftly now. Lilith’s eyes were closed, the red-pink light crackling along her eyelashes; she moved forward and back, her clit bumping every time against Satan’s flat belly. Her pace was faster and faster, and then came a dark rush of pleasure as her body clenched around her lover.

She wailed her triumph to the endless black, melding her cry with Lucifer’s pained roar, as the King of Demons once again gave his seed to the purest of Succubae.

***

Satan awoke; it was dark, it was cold, but he was on something soft and there was someone curled up against his side.

He concentrated the tiniest bit, and the torches he’d barely made note of before guttered to life. He was in his own chamber, or so it seemed: he knew it was his bed, because it had his Diabolus virtus- his demonic power- all over it. This new room was dimly lit, and the plastered vault of the ceiling was decorated with scenes of lewd couplings, taken straight from “The Devil’s Advocate.” The walls, too far away to believe, if it were a real room, were wood-paneled with ebony and Chinese wormwood. There was a luxuriant Persian carpet under the massive bed. He could see that despite the rug’s impressive size, barely got a foot out on each side.

He rolled over, wrapping his arm around the warm, female- very female- body cuddled next to him. Satan rubbed his pelvis against her rump, inhaling her scent: clouds and sticky buns.

But, no. No, it wasn’t Lilith’s aroma, it was a sharp, husky smell: cloves and mesquite and a touch of orange. This woman was no Angel; this was a powerful demoness. A succubus.

“Kali.”

She rolled over, her swift hazel eyes sparkling with her golden power. Her smile was feline, as were all her movements. She had been human, he couldn’t remember when, but her evilness had impressed even him (he remembered she was a lawyer), and she had quickly worked her way up in Demon hierarchy (a corporate lawyer).

“Satan, my lord,” she said. Her voice was a rolling purr of smoke and honey. She raked her sharp nails down his chest, and was sliding down the sheets invitingly.

“Where is the angel?” Satan demanded, leaping out of bed, naked, the torches lovingly casting golden shadows across his body, and illuminating his magical green eyes. The Queen of Succubae rolled her eyes and pouted, her carnelian lips the embodiment of female temptation.

“What angel?”

He growled, his hand snaking out to fist in her hair. He pulled her bodily towards him, his flaring green eyes casting an eerie glow over her auburn hair.

“Where is she?” It was the voice of command- the kind of voice Marines jump to, the voice teenagers expect from an angry parent, the voice that inspires soldiers to suicide missions: the voice, in fact, that makes you wish you were anywhere but there.

“She is partaking of the Feast,” Kali said sullenly. She shifted form to one of a sleek panther, the torch light finding the russet in her black coat. Kali had always been partial to lycanthropy: she spent most of her time in panther form (all the better to devour her male victims).

Satan leaned even closer to her, his hot breath fanning across her leathery nose. The green glow of his eyes took on a coppery tint, and she decided his breath suddenly smelled like blood. “You let her go to the Feast?” His voice was the calm surface of a lake that holds the waiting jaws of a massive water-going amphibian. “You allowed an angel- a female angel- to go the Feast?”

The Feast (short for The Oblation Feast of the Burning Elysium), as is probably obvious, was not a place for any angel to be. It is, in fact, simply a meal. It is also, in fact, a meal of things like still-pumping hearts and poached snakes. It is followed, in fact, by an orgy full of succubae, incubi, and some of the foremost leaders of Hell. They often imported a human- as a sexual sacrifice.

Lilith’s angelic presence, however corrupt, would be noticed. Satan sighed inwardly: they were going to tear her apart.

Kali slinked onto the floor by the hearth, a growl resonating in her throat at the Prince of Darkness’ abrupt departure. She whispered into the flames, notifying several other demons of what was probably going to happen: the sacrifice this time was to be an angel.

***

The Great Hall was filled with the deep rumble of voices: many of the speakers were less than human. The hall was brightly lit with ethereal torches suspended in midair. Roaring bonfires took up each end of the hall. On the East side was a cruel depiction of the casting-out from Eden complete with wrathful angels and coiled snake. On the Western side, the hearth was a deep brown carving of burning souls with a few demons patrolling their anguished psyches.

The Feast was already started. People (well, we’ll call them people for now) lined both sides of the table on each side, devouring various sinful delicacies. They reveled in their putrid gluttony, allowing bloody grease to course down their chins, lashing out with a poisoned claw to split open the belly of a steaming animal, lifting whole platters and ingesting them completely- plate and all. Some even, in anticipation of the upcoming orgy, were twining tongues with other creatures; massaging oiled breasts with scaled hands.

The human, lounging on the table like a living centerpiece, was naked except for a silvery, jeweled collar and an anklet of silver bells that tinkled whenever he moved. The sapphires around his neck glimmered beautifully; his pale, muscular body was quietly tensed. He was obviously drugged, or had no sense of self-preservation, because he lay there like a gift from God, giving no apparent notice to the disgusting things going on around him. His intelligent blue eyes reflected the torch light, but nothing else. Every once in a while, his eyes would settle momentarily on a particularly pretty succubus, her lascivious eyes devouring his naked form. His exposed penis would elongate ever so slightly, eliciting a sharp grin from her, and a responding vacuous smile from him.

Kali arrived in her normal splendor, flanked by a pair of massive demons, their greased muscles flexing like leather stretched over steel.

Kali, as the Queen of Succubae, was dutifully resplendent in a few deep red scraps: a “bra” (two triangles of cloth that barely covered her nipples, straining against black leather straps that just managed to hold up the fulsome weight of her breasts, and an array of hanging, glittering rubies that caught the eye and gave the impression she was dripping with blood) and a “skirt” (a bikini bottom with a broad strip of fabric going down her legs that was so low slung on her hips, that if it’d been any lower, it would have fallen off, not that that would be a problem for her; it was also dripping blood rubies, with an almost imperceptible sparkle to the loincloth where the rubies had been sewn on). She wore a pair of blackened gold armbands in the form of snakes that were encrusted with rubies, and had eyes of luminescent emeralds. She had no shoes on, because her feet were in the official clawed, lion’s-foot form. The claws had been gilded and each held a small ruby.

She sat at one end of the table, where she shared a broad, high-backed bench with Eve whenever Eve decided to join the Feast. She sat there now, leaning forward to tear a hunk of meat off the corpulent corpse of an endangered bison, catching the eye of the sacrifice, smiling evilly at him. Her kohl-lined eyes narrowed predatorily at the human. All eyes were halfway on her: when the Queen was done eating, then the real feast would begin.

Unexpectedly, a hush fell over the room. The few who still spoke were shushed; the sacrificial human languidly turned his head to the Northern doorway, jeweled collar sparkling effervescently; the prerequisite bowl clattered to the floor. Kali slowly- viciously- turned her head.