Lilith's Fall

She leaned across the bed, tempting me with her curves and overt submission. I placed my palm along her chin and she leaned into it, her muscles drawing back, tight with anticipation. The scent of desire, her desire, drifted through my senses and my eyes flushed bright with naked hunger. Threading my fingers through her silken hair, it drifted in waves, teasing my fingertips with a thousand velvety touches. She sandwiched my hand with her own, raising her eyes just far enough to read the measured insolence in her expression. Just enough to dare me to do something about it.

I didn't disappoint.

I couldn't disappoint.

My needs wouldn't let me.

Not that I have any choice on the matter, this body is running on autopilot.

She gasped as I clutched the roots of her hair and bent her backwards onto the bed, her legs dangling off the edge. My lips and tongue found the vulnerable spot on her neck, pinching, sucking, and licking with abandon and not a hint of shame. My body burned for her, and I would make her feel that flame.

First one knee, then the other landed on the bed, straddling her. I began marching them forward, inch by inch, towering over her while I worked my way toward the my destination: those lovely lips. She licked the plump pink skin, wetting them until they glistened. The brief glimpse of her tongue tantalized. My pussy pressed against her silken skin with each bounce of the bed from my shifting weight, leaving damp tracks behind; evidence of my arousal deposited like paw prints in the snow. An almost familiar tightness coiled in my body, a warmth of arousal that was focused in my gut but also diffused outward, filling my limbs with a trembling energy. An eager tongue met equally burning lips. Leaning back, I let my weight fall upon her face, pressing her into the mattress. Rolling my hips, I ground my wanton sex into her head, making her chase my pleasure with every upward bounce. And she did. With a fervent eagerness her tongue and lips nibbled at my labia, occasionally falling inside. Groaning, I let my fingers fall to my clit, wobbling it between two digits, sending a trembling that echoed through my core. Tighter and tighter, like an ephemeral jack-in-the-box, my arousal trembled with ever growing potential, just waiting for the chance to explode. Sunset colored locks teased my back when I turned to look over her beautiful body. She wasn't being passive, the middle two fingers of her right hand sunk between her thighs, thrusting and jerking. Her scent teased the air and her ministrations paused, a muffled moan spilling from between folds of my sex, her muscles locking down for a moment while her release spilled down her legs. Her jade eyes burned, flashing up at me from between my breasts. I twitched as her tongue plumbed my pussy, finding a spot that lit up my core like a lightning bolt. Noticing my reaction, she focused in on it, her tongue swabbing liberally with firm, broad strokes.

"There," I panted. "Right there. Don't stop. Dont-" Then I was at a place beyond words. My magic shattered the bottle of my control. Little slivers sliding through the skin of my back, illuminating the scene as my wings manifested in their eternal glory. Arching backward, I pressed my pussy as deeply as I could manage as I rode out the euphoria of my orgasm. Flapping dully, the air stirred, tossing my hair across my face. She looked up at me with affection and love. I reached down, cradling her damp cheek in my palm.

The simulation shuddered once before spitting me out.

Once more in my own body, I found myself face down in Helal's bed, hips grinding an erection into the fabric of my robes. A dull wetness indicated that the sensations had been only too real.

What the fuck just happened?

Recovering my wits, I wrapped up the dangerous gem in what seemed like a clean sock and placed it carefully back in the drawer, closing it with a firm shove. My limbs still tingled and my thoughts felt like they had to float through a dense fog before arriving in my brain. A wave of dizziness swept over me. I stumbled under the influence of my sigil. A sigil which clashed harshly with the magic of the simulation gem. Something cracked within me and the uneasiness died down. Three small lines added themselves to the sigil, the light flaring bright, much like it did in the prisoner tent under the influence of the melnad. It went unnoticed, my eyes buried into my hands while I fought off a small panic attack.

I'd just dropped the last of her dirty clothes into a pile in the corner when Helal peeled back the cloth door that segregated her room from the rest of the house. She was dressed in a twin robe to the one I was wearing and was patting down her damp hair with a towel.

"Thanks for cleaning up..." A trill of unusual pleasure flapped through my veins at her words. "... Actually I don't know your name. I guess I'd forgotten about introductions during our... unusual greeting," she smiled, her straight white teeth gleaming in a winsome smile. She approached me hand outstretched. "I'm Helal, commander of the third legion of this crusade, currently in charge of training some green gen poppers into something worth a damn."

Shaking her hand in a firm greeting, I opened my mouth to return the greeting, but of course, nothing game out. Frowning in frustration I looked around the room.

Where did that thing get off to? Ah.

I spotted the chalkboard on top of the dresser, hustling over to it while Helal chuckled. Freezing with the pen above the board, I hesitated on what to write.

Do I give her my full name or, just what I prefer to be called? I hate my full name.

The writing utensil curled across the board as I came to a decision.

Not like she'll know the difference.

"I'm El. It's nice to meet you," I wrote, while Helal waited patiently. Revealing the writing to her, I shuffled nervously as she read, struck by the realities of my situation.

This is what it'll be like. These awkward silences and stilted responses.

"That's kind of you to say, El. You're sweet. I think we'll get along just fine," she called over her shoulder while disrobing. Her towel and robe were tossed into the pile without a hint of modesty. Ruffling through her dresser, her golden skin glowed, my wide eyes taking in her every curve and plane of her well toned backside. I murmured a silent apology, I fled from the room, my chalkboard clutched tightly to my chest, manacles clanging off the board with every step.

"Sorry," she called out through laughter. "I'd forgotten that your people have strange hangups with nudity."

What the fuck has happened to my life?

Such was the beginning of my domestic life with Commander Helal.

I slowly grew accustomed to being unable to speak, as well as having to haul around my chalkboard to facilitate communication. Helal went about her business while I tended to her home, and we fell into a routine. A safe little routine where nothing was changing. Certainly not my body which felt strange at times, the esoteric golden light engraved in my forehead pulsing, encouraging my body.

Preparing.

I studiously ignored all warning signs and made no mention of them to Helal. Both for the humiliation of the admission as well as the burden it might place on my mistress. Not to mention having to mention the potentially touchy subject of having seen what's inside her masturbation gem. I'd learned that the sigil did more than just a compel to obey her explicit commands. When I willingly did what she told me to do, the sigil rewarded me with a dose of mind numbing pleasure. Time passed and I realized I'd become dependent on magical drug hits, seeking out ways to get Helal to ask things of me. Like Pavlov's dog, I'd become conditioned to want her presence, her absence throwing me into dark moods where I lounged about, doing nothing more than await her arrival. It was a bipolar roller coaster, the thrilling highs coming from her presence, only to fall into a lurching emotional morass when she left for work. It was more than a little frustrating, having my state of mind tied so intrinsically to another.

But...

All that evaporated under a glimpse of her smile or the subtle touch of her hand as she thanked me for my help or complimented me on the cooking. Being around her made me happy and that was a terrible thing to try and resent. In the end, I decided to roll with the punches and walk, eyes wide open, into whatever fate held for me.

It was a seemingly normal evening that the real trouble began. It's preparations complete, the rune began to apply more leverage, cranking up the pressure on my body.

My nipples ached, strangely sensitive under my shirt. Rubbing them eased the feeling a bit but caused them the throb with a pleasurable tingle. Blood flowed steadily into the sensitive spots, perking up into twin points on either side of my chest. I returned to chopping up the mushrooms, sauteeing them in a hunk of butter and a heaping helping of garlic. The delicious aroma filled the kitchen cove as, unbeknownst to me, the dark pink nipples bagan to widen, my areolas expanding like an ink oil stain across my pale flesh. Nerves sprouting like dandelions in a field underneath the darker flesh. My finger brushed against one carelessly. The spike of sensation made me drop my knife as blood stirred in my pants, an erection making its presence known. I stared at my hands incredulously, like they were a strangers as the echoing sensation faded. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to grimly return to the meal, ignoring the ghostly desire that haunted my body, unheard whispers incessantly telling me to "Do it again."

Later, safely alone in the bathroom, I unclothed, examining my changed flesh for the first time. The looked like, well, like nipples, but more than that, they looked like a woman's nipples. More specifically-

A vision sprang unbidden into my mind. A violet mane of hair and a delicious tongue sinking into my depths as I rode her face, her breasts flattening out on her chest, nipples standing proud, her-

Shaking my head, I stopped the hand that'd been creeping toward a sensitive patch of pink flesh.

Her nipples. The lady from the dream sequence. Only now they are mine.

I let my curiosity control my actions and my sensitive nipple practically purred with satisfaction at the touch of my fingers. My lips parted and a silent moan slipped from my lips before I could stop it. It was as sensual as I'd imagined it would've felt and was compounded by the fact that I was getting the sensations from both directions, both squeezing an engorged nipple and being touched like that.

Before I could get into anything deeper, Helal arrived home, putting an end to any additional shenanigans. I smiled warmly at Helal, grateful, for once, to my muteness. It helped me hide my rattled thoughts. Dinner with my mistress passed without any additional incidents, and I was comfortable on the couch, a book placed firmly on my lap while Helal poured over what appeared to be marching orders. She set them down with a sigh, throwing her head back over the edge of the couch.

"Anything I can do to help?" I wrote, tapping the edge of the chalkboard to get her attention.

"No, nothing..." She paused, thinking about it for a moment, reconsidering. "You know what, there is something you can do."

My heart fluttered with excitement, a rush that was totally involuntary, my body preparing to receive a dose of happiness that came from following her command.

"Give me your feet."

What?

My body reacted to her words before I could even begin to dissect her motivations. Her hands tugged on my ankle and I slid deeper into the couch cushions.

"I don't think I've adequately expressed how much help you've been," she said, working her thumbs along the bridge of my foot. She ruthlessly chased every bit of tension or knots away from my feet. "Our meeting might not have been traditional, and our relationship is certainly unorthodox, but it's nice to have company. I tend to be a private person El, unwilling to relax the military coat that hangs on my shoulders at all times. You've helped break me out of a rut I'd unknowingly fallen into, and it's nice to show my own appreciation from time to time. You never complain, and you do so much for me. When you feel ready, I'd like to hear about how you were... collected. It chafes at my mind occasionally. The not knowing, that is. I'm not used to the feeling."

My mind was filled with visions of that day and my body tensed. I reached for my board, unable to stop myself from trying to make her happy.

Helal noticed. "Relax."

And I did.

"Only when you feel comfortable enough to share. I was talking to Abraham about your condition and he said he might swing by to have a look at your sigil to see about how we could go about fixing it." She returned to the foot massage and, while her touch verged on uncomfortably strong, the satisfaction was palpable. Both physically and mentally, helped along with gentle waves from the binding rune. Her talented fingers weaving the bonds between us ever tighter, creating a warm cocoon of warmth that lulled me to sleep. I woke briefly, Helal's arms easily supporting me as she lifted me from the couch and carried me to bed with her. She settled into the bed behind me, curling around behind me, hugging me a close. Before I could consider the ramifications, she whispered a single word into my ear.

"Sleep."

And I did.

I awoke in her bed the next morning and, with no clear way to interpret the enigmatic warriors attention, I shrugged it off as an outlying one off and put it from my mind, and I continued about my day.

That night I lay in bed, my eyes closed while I tried to fall asleep. My thoughts had only began to settle. Just before I was able to drift off, an uncomfortable sensation formed around my waist, as if some invisible come along was slowly ratcheting down, stealing my breath away.

What now? I thought with exasperation.

At the same time an industrial press pushed my hips down. The combined effect had my waist vanishing inch by impossible inch. Gritting my teeth, I let out a silent scream, my limbs tingling in my blanket with my thrashing. I sobbed with relief as the strange force subsided, leaving me a wrung out wreck to fall into a troubled sleep. Small tweeks continued throughout the night as the corrupted sigil continued to work its magic, tinkering until I was left with a delicate waist with moderately wider hips. Shaking off the vague remembrances in the morning, I fell on my breakfast with a consuming hunger. I continued with my routine, unaware of the layers of padding being placed like tarmac under my skin, reinforcing my newly feminine figure.

Three days later, a light layer of flour dusted my hands as I patted down an even layer of dough onto the wooden cutting board that rested in my lap. Using a cup, I portioned out eight biscuits, setting them aside as I let the pan heat up over the wood fire stove. Soft footsteps on the rugs announced Helal's presence as she finished her shower. Her damp hair radiant under the lamplight, highlighting its exotic coloration with bursts of flickering light. Patting it dry, she looked over my prep work appreciatively. Bubbling, the pot of gravy released its savory smell to curl throughout the tent.

"Those look good. Thank you for making them."

I had to suppress the shiver of pleasure that trickled from the sigil, tickling my brain with it's addictive bliss.

"I think that last time I had biscuits was when Sven, whose actual name is Gordan... I can't remember why we call him Sven now. Anyway, he tried his hand at making biscuits. I say try because what came out of that oven more closely resembled charcoal bricks than anything remotely edible."

I shared a silent chuckle with her. The cooking was finished, the biscuits turning out fairly well for my first attempt. The meal was intimate as always, the lighting low with nothing to entertain us but each other. A blush dusted my cheeks every time Helal moaned appreciatively at my homemade meal.

My chalk tapped on the board. "Good?"

"Excellent. As always El, I don't know what I'd do without you anymore."

"Stop it." Ducking my head, I hid the smile that curled my lips as a ribbon of satisfaction did the same to my spine.

A warm hand enveloped mine in silken flesh.

"Seriously though, thank you for all your help. El, I know you don't have a choice in the matter and that's wrong, but still... Thank you."

Earnestness like that should be illegal.

My words were shaky as I wrote them onto my board. "Your Welcome"

"Wrong your. It should be y-o-u-apostrophe-r-e," she teased with a smile.

Smiling back, I scribbled, "Ass," onto the board, pointing to each letter in turn before returning to my food.

Helal produced a, "Who me?" look, her eyes twinkling with mirth before she too, returned to her meal.

Washing the dishes after our shared dining experience, I bobbed my head to the self-playing harp Helal had set up in the corner of the living room. Unconstrained and free floating, my brain was wandering into lewd territories; thinking about the magic cube and the scene I'd experienced, the dishes were robotically scrubbed clean, passing from one side of the washing bowl to the other. They were left to drip dry on a large platter, freshly cleaned and rinsed.

I stiffened when an unexpected pair of hands landed on my hips.

"Hello," Helal whispered sultrily into my ear, the acrid scent of alcohol carried along with her exhalation.

A warmth that had nothing to do with the sigil wound through my gut, arousal burning through my limbs like a warm breath into winter air. "You know I can help with things like this, right?" she asked, her fingers lightly caressing the fabric that hugged my hips while pointing at the clean dishes.

Drying off my hand, I scrawled a short note. "I don't mind."

She took a deep breath, wisps of my longer hair pulled along with my scent into her senses. Helal savored the sensation, fingertips squeezing the soft flesh along the curve of my hip, slowly migrating toward my backside.

Panting, it felt like the majority of the oxygen in the tent had decided to take a sudden vacation.

She paused, squeezing again.

Struggling against the instinct to push more firmly into her touch, I focused on maintaining a death grip on the plate in my hands, which was suddenly trembling and threatened to slip and shatter onto the countertop.

"Are you getting enough exercise? I don't want to be rude but you feel..."

My eyes narrowed and I set down the ceramic plate, hefting a handy spatula. Sudsy water dripped along my arm onto the counter top.

"...pudgy."

Playfully, I flicked the water at Helal's face and she played along, hissing like a cat and wheeling back. The distance between us let the air back into the room, and I was able to breath easy once more.

"THIN ICE," I scrawled, water droplets creating dark splotches around my writing.

"I just want you to be healthy. El, answer me, are you getting enough exercise?"

Her eyes and tone bore into me and the compulsion sunk it greedy teeth into my mind.

I shrugged and began writing, having no other option.

Strangely, that thought doesn't chafe as much as it once did.

"I could probably use some more." I turned away from her, not because I didn't like the way she'd forced my hand.

Because I did.

There was a portion of me that rolled in the blissful joy that trickled from the sigil like a cat rolling in a patch of catnip. The satisfaction tumbling through my veins like the hit of a drug.