Flirting with Sin Ch. 01

Muffled voices carried through the boards of one apartment, loud enough to hear from outside.

"You'll only damn yourself, Alison! Killing your father isn't going to bring back Felicity!"

"Don't you dare say her name, you scum! She's dead because of you! Because of him! I should gut each and every one of you Church pigs!"

A woman's voice intermingled with angry mewls and hisses. My heart nearly leapt from my chest; before I knew what I was doing I ran to the door and thrust it open.

A table had been turned over; glasses and plates and bits of food made a mess of the floor. A balding man in his undershirt and briefs stood at the edge of the room holding a wooden cross in front of him and shaking in terror. A suit of old, rusty looking armor hung on a stand next to him.

No more than ten feet away was a woman covered only by the fur on her back, lower half and her muscular limbs. That crouched, threatening poise, the outstretched claws, those gleaming emeralds that turned to catch me in their gaze. It was her, and I couldn't help but silently gasp.

"Oh, the little boy playing at being a Hunterrrr."

Alison turned her attention away from the man and smiled at me, a flash of fangs. Her eyes widened in anticipation; her slender fingers were taut, claws bared. Her tail swished to and fro, an instinctual excitement. If I missed my mark she'd be ripping out my intestines in the next minute.

"Demon--foul and lecherous creature. This world will not suffer your presence to harm any other innocent."

I pulled back the hammer and aimed for the space where her blackened heart beat.

"Wait, good Hunter! You're making a mistake, Alison's not--"

The demoness kicked her leg out from under her to smash it into the table in the middle of the room. It soared toward the paladin and struck him down, shattering into useless lumber on impact. His armor fell in pieces on top of him as he struck the wall and tumbled into a heap of splintered wood and dusty metal.

"I'm flatterrred you'd go to such lengths to track me down. Couldn't wait to see me again, hmm?" the cat-thing mewled.

The hostility in the creature's voice was gone, instead purring as it squatted down and touched its hands to the floor. There was no fear, no trepidation in its black slit-eyes. I wasn't a threat to Alison, I was a delivery of anchovies.

"That piece is biggerrr than you are, little boy. Can you do it? Can you shoot me?"

My hands shook. I gripped the gun tight; even a centimeter off the mark would spell my doom. I shut one eye and grit my teeth. Five pounds of pressure, three feet of distance. Fifteen-hundred feet per second. Forty-four caliber silver. The hammer swung forward and my arm went flying back.

The Lord is my strength...

The moment the bullet left the gun, Alison was in the air. The demon's body sprung like a loaded trap, claws outstretched. I swung the dagger forward to catch her and met her clutches, one hand on my wrist and the other dug into my shoulder. She shot me a smug smile as I grimaced in pain, and agony sunk into my shoulder blade as I aimed at her head.

The bullet flew out the window and soared into the night; Alison bent backwards with the grace of a ballerina to avoid it. Tilting her head up to look at me, she licked her lips hungrily. The cylinder rolled, I pulled back the hammer to fire again; she raised one of her muscular legs and kicked me into the wall.

Dazed, I saw her leap through the window into the wet night. Weakly I picked myself from the carpet and sheathed the dagger. I felt blood soaking into my robe at the shoulder. Moving my arm was enough to send jolts of pain down into my fingers. Goddamnit, did she get a tendon?

I raised the gun and pushed the cylinder aside. Three shots left--I should have brought more ammo, I thought as I slid silver canisters into the chambers. I had enough to reload maybe once more.

The paladin was out cold. I gave a cursory look around his room; he had a shitty little television from two generations ago, was an inch thick and probably didn't even support plasma signals. A hotplate. Shelves of old knick-knacks and books, pictures of family. A terribly quaint and quiet existence. Most notably, there was little to denote he was ever a member of the Church other than his armor. He must have tried to distance himself from them, but why? There weren't any signs of him boiling demonic blood to use in a dick enhancement rite or anything like that...

Alison couldn't have been done with him. Yet she didn't seem to want him dead--I had simply been an annoying intermission. Rather than kill me, as she had ample opportunity, she was trying to lure me out into the open. Toying with her food, no doubt. It didn't matter; I had no choice but to play her game.

Slumping out the door, I managed to catch myself as I tripped, narrowly avoiding planting my face in the gravel. Moving my left arm was agonizing, so I would have to sacrifice accuracy and stability to aim with my right.

Vision was a blurry haze of rain and darkness. I spun around in anxious circles, aiming at shadows. I kicked up gravel as I stumbled through the lot, ready to blast the first person who came out of their doorway to ask what the hell I was doing.

There was a long thin limb swishing back and forth just behind the corner of one of the houses, taunting me. I pulled the dagger from its sheath and held it against the gun brandishing both weapons together, took a deep breath, and tripped toward it.

A great shadow leapt from behind the house and scampered off into the black. There was a muddy field just outside the complex--that's where she wanted me. There'd be no cover and nowhere to hide. All the better.

I felt my heart thumping in my throat and sweat pouring down my face in equal measure to the rain. Water and wet dirt filled my boots. There was nothing but puddles and patches of grass in the path of moonlight that shone down through the black clouds. And then I heard laughter.

A scratchy sort of laugh that came from the throat, rumbling yet high pitched. It was distinctly behind and above me, but it filled my ears and soaked into my mind. I hesitated, for I knew as soon as I turned around that would be the end.

Swinging the dagger through the air as I spun, I felt the softness of her skin and the power of her weight when she came down on me. I slid several feet through the mud, and when I stopped my arms were pinned to the ground by her paws. She sat on my waist, holding me still.

Hunger burned in her slit eyes. The cat demon bared her fangs and came down on me; I shut my eyes tight to embrace the dark. Instead of an inch of sharp teeth diving into my flesh, however, I felt puffs of air as she took in my scent. A rough tongue dragged along my neck.

Bewildered, I tilted my head to look at her as she brushed her cheek against mine, whiskers flicking against my nose. Puffs of hot air came from her mouth in loud flustered meows. My cheeks went red with humiliation as I realized she was marking me with her scent.

"Get the hell off of me, devilspawn!"

Thrashing and kicking I struggled to push her off, but with each jerk she slammed me harder into the ground. I didn't have the strength to fight the demoness, and when she put her lips to mine--soft and warm and demanding--I didn't have the air either.

My head spun as I desperately gasped for air and only succeeded in sucking in her moist breath. She had the musky taste of a wild animal, and as she probed and invaded my mouth I could not think or escape. Her tongue scratched painfully against mine, I could only pant and groan as she violated my mouth. I tasted iron, saw my blood against her rosy lips as she came up for air, eyes locked with mine and spittle connecting our lips.

"Tasty little morrrsel. I told you I wouldn't go easy on you if I saw you again. You'rrre all mine."

She arched her back and pressed her lower half against me, the touch of her fur and skin warm enough to feel through my robes. With a single claw she cut open my garment, running her paws over my skin and the hair on my chest. I gasped desperately for breath, terrified and transfixed. I could die at any moment, I was a rat between her paws. Yet part of me wanted nothing better than to be consumed by her, body and mind.

"Get... get off of me..."

I whimpered, the last vestiges of my sound mind waning with what strength I had left. But it was no use. My heart felt ready to leap from my chest; I could not deny her despite the pleas of my rational mind.

Balling my robe into her fists, she ripped it apart in a single tug. My engorged member stood free in the cold rain, pulsating in horrified anticipation. Gently she pressed a claw against the tip, careful only to sting me. As she took me in her grip and squeezed painfully, it became clear that no part of this was for my enjoyment. The demon had me at her cruel mercy, and all I could do was cower and obey.

The fine tips of her bangs trailed down my body, an agonizing tickle, as she lowered her head and lashed my chest and my stomach with her tongue. I felt her hot breath against my cock, a pleasure all too brief as she then pressed the spines of her tongue against the shaft and dragged it slowly upward. I couldn't help but twitch and jerk at the terrible pleasure-pain like jolts of electricity shooting through me. Her eyes dwelled on mine, the look of a predator relishing in the struggle of its prey.

She devoured me whole. The feeling of her plush lips and the hellish heat of her mouth was too much to bear. A whitehot ecstasy crept up my spine; my member pumped desperately. I couldn't help it, I didn't want it, but the painful lash of her tongue and the velvet stroke of her throat caged me--an inescapable prison of torturous pleasure.

Tightly she consumed me, stroking up and down. Slowly and deliberately at first to watch me squirm, but with increasing speed and demand. Wet sucking noises mixed with the falling rain and my pitiful moans. I tried to sit up, to desperately crawl away from her, but she placed a paw on my chest and forced me down.

Lurking just below I felt the pressure building. My soul boiled within me as my body prepared to relinquish itself to her, and I dug my hands into the mud below and held on desperately. Sensing I was reaching the end, she suddenly stopped--returned to merely lashing me painfully with her tongue. She would send me over the edge with excruciating pleasure, a humiliating defeat. I couldn't take it anymore, and I swear I could see the Lord looking down in disappointment as I painted her lips and claws with my thick white essence.

My chest rose and fell rapidly. My mouth was terribly dry, despite that I was soaked from head to toe in rain and mud. A mixture of shame and terrible arousal stirred in me as I watched the demoness lick me from her fingers and claws, lustfully sighing as she cleaned herself.

I laid my head in the mud, drained. I was a meal for a monster, that was all my training had amounted to. And when she was done having her way with me, I would be dead. A thought that became only more grim as she rose from the ground to stand over me. She pressed her foot against my face, an act of simple dominance, and I could see her lower lips rosy and glistening. There was a primal hunger in her eyes--she saw a juicy piece of meat she was about to pick clean from the bone.

Draping herself over me, she straddled my waist. Her nether lips, hot and wet, press my cock flat against my body. She stared into my eyes as she grinded against me, back and forth, trailing herself along my length. The demon's face was beet red; she bore her fangs and growled at me. She was in charge here, and she wanted me to be painfully aware of it.

Unable to wait any longer, she reached her fingers gingerly down to where our bodies touched and lined me up to be consumed. She closed her eyes in anticipation and bit her lip; all at once I sank into her, forced into her deepest parts. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as I felt her hellish furnace undulate against me and suck me in. Waves of unbearable pleasure shook my body as she forced me into her again and again; each time our bodies met it was as though a piece of my mind was lost in the throws of her domination, consumed into sinful ecstasy.

Our lower bodies were drenched in fluid. Sticky pleasure, rain, mud and sweat. She rose high enough for me to slip out of her, and then devoured me anew, announced to the air with a wet smack. The air was thick with the scent of our bodies, intermingled with the scent of rain. She growled and hissed and mewled desperately, her voice lost somewhere between aggression and pleasure. I could scarcely see anything but her body, taking from me whatever it wanted. Suddenly her face lowered to again meet mine and forcefully she pushed her tongue into my mouth, lashing and attacking me even as she slammed her sex into mine with no restraint.

Claws sank into my arm as she forced me still on the ground and pumped me for all I was worth. As I felt my seed spill helplessly into her, she lowered her face to my shoulder and her fangs pierced my flesh. Blood trickled into her mouth. The pain mixed with the agonizing pleasure, so dizzying and deep I thought I might drown in it. I felt my body pump into her one last time, completely under her thrall, and finally her movements slowed.

There was no strength left. My soul was a flickering candle. The last thing I remember before passing out was the demon cat on top of me, her fur soft and comforting as she licked the holes she'd put in my shoulder.

V: A Plea for Penance

A blanket of shadow was wrapped tightly around my naked flesh. There was comfort in the blackness. Peace and solitude, the weightless feeling of knowing that I shall never be troubled by the world and its sorrows again. Though my soul may be lost in the twist between dimensions and my mind forever still, there was comforting peace.

And then a light bore a hole in the fabric of dark. Tiny at first, like the prick of a needle, then larger and larger to make my peaceful sleep impossible. The Lord was not yet done with me, it seemed. For me there would be no peace, no rest.

"So you're finally awake."

My hair was a tangled mop atop my head, and sitting up was like tearing through an overgrowth of vines. The painful wooden frame of the barely cushioned sofa I was laying on did me no favors; my lower back ached, my shoulder cried out in painful jolts each time I moved. I winced and bit my tongue, just getting up a straining effort.

"Careful now. She took quite a bit of blood from you. You're lucky she took a shine to you--you'd be dead otherwise."

A gray-bearded man sat across from me in a wooden rocking chair holding a pipe in his hand. He was better dressed since last I saw him, wearing a priest's jacket and slacks. No collar, however. Despite his age he was of decent build, suggesting that some day far in the past he could actually fill out that rusty suit of armor on his wall.

My shoulder was wrapped in gauze stained with splotches of dried crimson. Near the sofa lay my robes, a tattered mess of shredded fabric and blood.

"You're that paladin," I groaned, "you saved me?"

"Should I have left you to bleed out in the rain? Dragging you back here seemed like the right thing to do, even if you did shoot holes in my wall," he said, puffing his pipe and shooting me a displeased look.

"What happened? Where did she...?"

The paladin cast his gaze downward and sighed smoke. "After she was done with you, there was enough left of her to come back in here and question me. I told her what I knew. Her father is still connected to the Church, still operates as a priest. I told her the last place I'd known him to give sermons and she ran off." He took the pipe to his mouth again, drew a heavy puff, then put a hand to his face and cursed. "God damn it! If she just listened to me..."

He looked up at me, his brows narrowed in anger. "And you! What the hell kind of Hunter are you, huh? Where's your holy water? Your sanctified cross? Your prayer beads? You just come in here waving a gun around like some chicken-shit rookie cop! I swear to God if you hurt Alison I'll see to it that you are flayed within an inch of your life!"

The whirlwind of questions and accusations coming from the old man was dizzying, but hardly threatening. If I was to show my face at the Church empty-handed again, they'd cut them off. The bite marks in my shoulder were nothing compared to what they'd do to me. I couldn't help but think it would have been for the best if the demon cat had simply finished me off after finishing me off.

"What do you care? You're a paladin. You know that demons cannot be suffered. What makes Alison special? She could have killed you."

"She's not a demon!" The paladin lurched forward and nearly sprang out of his chair like he meant to batter me. Thinking better of it however, he calmed down, took a deep breath, and leaned back. "You don't understand. Alison is not a summoned demon, nor is she the result of some satanic ritual. She was born a human birth like you or me. Her mother Felicity was a demon, however, and when you inherit that blood, well, I suppose it's only a matter of time until..."

"Her mother, a demon?" I balked. "Her mother was a nun. There's no fucking way the Church allowed a demon to become a nun."

The paladin rose an eyebrow at me and rested his pipe in his mouth. "Is it so hard to believe? Felicity was a kind woman, wouldn't hurt a fly. She chose to give of herself to God that she might not toil forever in the lake of fire, or tempt others to that same suffering. A Hunter like you I thought would know better--the Church is no safe haven from the influence of Lucifer's minions."

He pointed his pipe at me, smoke billowing from the end. "I should have you know the reason I left the Church was not due to the influence of demons. No, Alison's father--a mortal man, mind you--drove me out. I was disgusted by the Church's complicity in his rapes and abuses. Felicity is a demon, so she cannot be sinned against? That seemed to be the prevailing wisdom. It was sickening."

"I don't understand. If Alison's not a demon, nor is she Possessed or the result of summoning or a rite, how did she end up like this? That wasn't a human girl that nearly ripped my arm off last night."

"She looks a lot like her mother--the resemblance is uncanny, really. She was always going to end up like this eventually, I suppose. But something must have spurned her on. I have known Alison since she was a little girl, and she was not herself last night. It might be that her transformation was the result of demonic influence. If I had to guess, someone who knew her wanted her to be hunted by the Church. By someone like you."

I grunted. Not someone like me, someone who could get the job done. I would be nursing my pride for some time to come--I doubt most Hunters have 'was raped by a cat' on their resume.

"She ruined your robes. I've folded my old robe on the floor there next to you. I think we're about the same size, so you can have it," he said, and leaned forward pointedly. "What do you intend to do now?"

"If I don't take care of her, my life is forfeit. I have to find her."

"And kill her?"

There was a pleading desperation in his eyes. A shaking fear, like he might drop to his knees and start begging me to have mercy. I shook my head and sighed.

"I don't know. But she's already killed a man, so she must be dealt with. I'll do what I have to."

The paladin stood and marched to the corner of the room where a tall old wooden dresser sat. He flung open one of the shelves and dug around for a moment, filling the house with the sound of rustling wood and junk. Finally, he retrieved something and brought it before me.