Lilith's Fall

My eyes fluttered and I pulled away from Helal, releasing the spatula to splash into the soapy bowl of water. I shrugged, not sure how to answer any better.

"Okay then, I'll start taking you with me on my morning runs." The room fell into a pregnant silence before Helal resumed speaking. "I don't like doing that. It's wrong. This system is wrong... But it brought me you. I care about you El, never forget that." Helal spun and marched from the room, shoulders drawn back, tense as she disappeared into her bedroom. Curled under covers, I hugged my arms to my sensitive chest, dishes dried and safely stored in their appropriate spots. Piteously, I rocked back and forth, trying to distract myself from the pangs of changes that flowed through my body. My hips ached, the bones there reshaping, widening. The memory of the sexual experience from the cube assaulted my senses, tantalizing me with the possibilities, tempting me with Helal's hidden fantasies. The sigil buzzed, its magic soaking in, corrupting the fibers of my bones and muscles. My hands drifted toward my sex, but I stopped myself, pinching the roaming digits between my knees, safely imprisoned from my erect cock. The magic was insidious, working slowly. Always lurking in the background, it stalked me with silent inevitability. A restless sleep drug me from my musings, freeing my mind through the medium of an unsettled unconsciousness.

"El... El, wake up."

"Five more minutes," I said silently, rolling over and clutching the blanket more tightly to my chest.

"Come on El," Helal, chuckled. Pinching my nose closed, she forced me to a more alert state. Snorting and grumbling internally the whole way.

"What's happening?" I wrote on my board, wiping the bleariness from my eyes.

So early.

Then, a moment of terror struck me, a fear that I'd revealed my changing anatomy to her. Fortunately, my comforter was still pulled over my unwrapped areola and I released a sigh of relief.

"Were starting your workout regiment," she said, throwing me a baggy t-shirt and shorts.

Said clothes were soaked in sweat, covering some severely aching muscles by the time Helal allowed me to end my suffering. My feet throbbed in time with my heartbeat as my slow shuffling jog ended with my hands on my hips.

I hate her.

The thought was false and quickly soothed away by the sigil. I looked over at the still perfectly put together Helal, barely breathing hard. The sunrise spilled over the top of the tent town, illuminating the morning fog.

How can she still look so fine?

The only indication of the miles we'd run together was a dusting of red across her cheeks. She helped me through the slit in our tent and onto the couch. I flopped down, too exhausted to care about propriety as she began boiling water for our breakfast. I groaned, silently of course, my muscles protesting every twinge as I attempted to flop out of the couch's embrace to assist Helal.

"Stay right there and relax," she called out, tossing me a towel.

Wiping my face and neck clean, I stretched out as much as I could. She returned to the stove, stirring oatmeal into the boiling water. I was grateful for the command, my body following her words far better than the signals from my own brain. The muscles releasing their tightness, allowing my limbs to sprawl out wide. The lingering tension of exertion dissipated, the couch hugged me close, the leather comfortable enough that I managed to doze off. The warm smell of sugary oats pulled me from my slumber, Helal's amused expression the first thing I saw as she waved the bowl under my nose. I fell upon the simple fare with all the grace of a wild animal.

"Excuse me," I wrote, horrified at my poor manners. My mother, bless her soul, had always told me that proper bearing was important, that one should always keep the highest standard of civility. 'Never be a burden, the finest way to bring yourself joy is through helping others.'

"Don't hold back on my account. I know what it's like to be hungry. You won't offend me. Eat however you like." She chuckled and dug into her own meal after lacing the thing liberally with sugar.

Even with her reassurances, I was very careful for the remainder of the meal, managing to get by without additional incidents. The unending vastness of her patience and caring created a warmth in my chest, an ache that had me yearning for her touch.

Later, I found myself on the toilet, partaking in the age old method of stress relief, masturbation. My hand pulled up and down along my dick which had so far escaped the runic energies that were running freely through my body. My thoughts were focused on a sunset colored beauty that filled my dreams and fears, as well as controlled my body.

Her strength and sensuality. The confidence and comfortable femininity. Her mantle of authority. Those fingers, grabbing my head, forcing me to look at her while she works her hips over me. Taking me for her pleasure. My own coming only incidentally through her allowance and permission.

My heartbeat and breath worked in tandem, working hard to supply oxygen to my feverish organs. I could feel my pulse in through my dick, continuing to stroke it, steadily increasing my pace as I approached my release. The sigil burned with a dull heat, mystical tendrils working their way into my chest like a trees roots worked through the ground. My hand crept up to my nipple and I couldn't stop myself from giving it a gentle tug.

The electric arc of pleasure to the groin was enough to send me tumbling over the edge into release. My seed spilled out into the carved wooden bowl, the enchantment engraved in the bottom, searing every speck into a fine odorless ash that joined a pile of the similar material in the bottom. It was in the unconscious moment of ecstasy that the rune struck, the magic quivering slightly, the flesh of my chest ballooning almost imperceptibly, gaining a small mass of nerves and fat.

I felt good and satisfied, slumping on the toilet, recovering from release. I thumbed my soft pectoral, speculating. Shivering, spider legs of premonition crawled across my brain. I realized I wouldn't have the willpower to do deny myself this pleasure, no matter the consequences. I felt like I could see the future, laid out before me like a roadmap. The change wouldn't be much, but it would accumulate, every day, once a day for a week. Then twice a week, my budding breasts growing under my self indulgent spree as the sigil sculpted my body and mind, creating me into something that could better serve my controller. The first time I noticed the change continued, even when I wasn't post-orgasm vulnerable, was after I inadvertently groped myself one day upon waking. The soft flesh pleasing to both my breast and my hand. It took a second and third squeeze, each producing a throb from my morning wood, before I believed that I wasn't still dreaming. My first thought was one of panic.

How am I going to hide this from Helal?

At this point, I wasn't sure why my initial consideration was for how this might separate me from her, but it was. In a near frantic, I tried to come up with a solution to my predicament. My fix was to take some of the spare bandages and create a breast wrap that would hopefully, along with my baggy clothing, help conceal my newly growing assets.

I don't know if my body could handle any additional workouts if Helal catches wind of it.

Later that week, after lovely stir fry with fresh cut carrots, Helal felt comfortable enough with my presence to show off her magic. She did so without warning, nothing but a sly smile to her face while she sat on the couch. Setting her loose papers to the side, she rolled her neck. I looked up from the swashbuckling fantasy book I'd been reading. I arched a brow and cocked my head to the side. Helal, said nothing, her brown eyes glowing faintly, leaning back into the couch, folding her arms behind her head. Shrugging, I returned to the novel. Only, I couldn't get her look out of my head. I kept glancing at her over the top of my book, but she wasn't moving or anything. A flicker of light that illuminated the paper in front of me was my first warning. The wisp of breath on my neck was the second. I brushed my hair away only to have the tickling feeling return. Turning my head, I found myself face to face with an impossible miniature creature. Wreathed in scintillating light, a tiny unicorn pegasus pranced on my shoulder, mane twisting wildly through a shaken head. Exuding wonder, I plucked the small creature from my shoulder, cradling it in my palms. My eyes darted to Helal's amused expression before returning to the unicorn, whose wings were held out wide, preening for its enthralled audience. Sunlight burned in Helal's eyes, focusing intensely on the precise control her magic required to run the enchanting summon through its paces. The tail flicked and the unicorn reared back, wings spread tall before fading away, like a rain cloud under a breeze. Bouncing between my now empty hands and her face, my eyes were wide with childlike wonder at the magical experience.

Looking smug, Helal plucked a fresh grape from a bowl on the coffee table, popping it into her mouth and crunching down on it suavely. Only a light sheen of sweat indicated the magnitude of the effort it had required to create the lightshow.

Tossing another grape into the air, she caught it in her mouth, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth while my own gaped at her, my chalk poised above the board, wanting to communicate but completely at a loss for what to write.

How do I put that into words? Amazing? Wondrous? Adorable? They all seem to fall flat.

The next grape was also tossed into the air, but instead of catching it with her mouth she snagged it with a sweeping swipe of her hand, a playful expression stealing across her face. "Open up."

I complied, sticking my tongue out like a red carpet. Tossing a grape across the four foot gap, she sunk it into my mouth effortlessly, landing it perfectly on target

A little too perfectly. The fruit slid into my throat, attempting to pillage my lungs with its sweat flesh. My eyes bulged as I coughed it back into my mouth. Concerned, Helal sprung to her feet, hovering over me, patting my back. I struggled to stop myself from hacking up a lung. Lungs burning, my chest ached while I tried to regain my breath. Helal's worry was sweet, as was the guilty expression. I waved her off, giving her the okay sign with my fingers, bent over with tears streaming from my eyes.

My throat bobbed up and down as I swallowed the spittle that'd gathered there. A warm hand rubbed soothing circles across my back and a warmth built between my legs. Concentrated pressure built in my neck, the muscles tightening for just a moment under the effects of the sigil that'd decided now would be a perfect opportunity for some additional changes. Mixed sensations of burning, and a more concentrated version of what Helal was doing to my back stole over my throat. The cartilaginous prominence there dissolved under the magic, leaving me with a slimmer, more feminine profile. Working my jaw open and closed, I found the change to be among the more reasonable ones I'd experienced.

"Are you okay?" Helal's voice held more panic than I thought possible for a woman with such ironclad control.

I nodded and I could feel our collective exhale of relief spill across the room. The grape was actually quite delicious for a potential homicide weapon. Rising to full height, Helal promptly pulled me into a hug. A silent 'eep' of surprise slipped from my lips as she held me tight. The warmth in my core grew under the influence of her warm embrace and exotic aroma. Eyeing the bowl of fruit speculatively, I had a deliciously naughty idea. Snagging a piece of fruit, I arched a brow and held it up to her face. Confused she parted her lips, allowing me to slip the grape onto her tongue. My fingers lingered and her lips captured them in a humid cavern. Her teeth scraped against my digits as she moved her head back, allowing her teeth to split the fruits flesh. She swallowed, her eyes locked on mine as her lips released my fingers with a slight pop.

Gulp. That may have been a mistake.

The heat in the tent was suddenly stifling, my heart fluttering in my chest. I promptly turned and fled to my bedroom without a word, unable to face the feelings I'd unknowingly just presented to my captor. My sweet mistress.

"Are you really okay?" Helal asked from outside my room, only a thin cloth sheet separating us.

"Fine," I wrote on the board before sliding it out into the hallway. Which was technically true, in the most literal sense of the word. The more complete truth was that my body burned for her touch. A space inside me felt empty for her touch. I realized then how much I'd changed since arriving here, both in body and form. Neither was safe under the watchful eye of my sigil.

"Okay," she said cautiously. "I'm sorry if I hurt you." She slid the board back under the cloth door.

Those words were knives under my skin, pricking my conscience, prompting a response, but I shook it off. Stubborn and seeking to punish myself for my loss of self to these people who'd stolen my life from me, I did nothing to relieve my anguish. My gut roiled uncomfortable. The sigil throbbed and I knew these thoughts would be gone by morning.

"I'm here if you need me," were Helal's parting words as she left me alone.

I flopped to my bed, strength abandoning me. Silence, as was often the case lately, was my only companion as I sobbed myself to sleep, hugging my knees to my chest.

As I'd suspected, the next morning found me feeling fresh, no hint of the resentment of the day before. Helal didn't mention the strange moment either, and, although we both thought about it often, neither broached the topic to the other. Thus did we continue with our lives, an uneasy equilibrium just waiting to tip one way or the other.

One evening Helal, came home surly, smelling of lime juice, her normally gleaming breastplate tarnished with an ugly yellow stain.

"Clean it," she huffed, shucking it to the floor, marching grumpily into the bathroom, running water sounding. Pulling out some metal polish from the chest of assorted cleaning supplies, I fell into the task without any complaint, coasting on the submissive joy.

It's nice to feel useful.

With a rough cloth pad, I scrubbed circles into the silvery plate until it bubbles frothed across the stained portions. Helal emerged from the bathroom, lithe body and hair wrapped in twin towels. A frown marred the plane of her face, making the breath hitch in my chest.

She noticed and visibly worked to school her expression. "Sorry about that. One of my cadets was an idiot and almost got himself gored by a manticore and..." she huffed. "I'm being an ass. Treating you like that. It's not right. It's not your fault. And you shouldn't have to suffer both my grumpiness and complaining, I shouldn't unload on you like that.

I wiped my hands of the cleaning solution on a dishtowel I'd brought for that purpose.

"It's fine."

"It's not fine. I-" Helal grew heated.

I held up a finger, cutting her off with a finger. Her gobsmacked look was so funny I chuckled silently. While Helal came to terms with my strange behavior I scribbled on my board.

"It reminds me of my brother," I wrote pointing to the stain.

"You have a brother?"

"He used to play baseball. It drove my mother batty every time he came home from practice or a game, his uniform just filthy with dirt and grass stains on his knees and elbows."

"You have a brother?" Helal repeated, as if her brain was struggling with the concept that I might have a family.

"Yes, a younger one. And an older sister. Anyway, his team's colors were yellow and black with white pants. The worst colors for stains. She used to mumble to herself while she attacked them with a scrub brush and stain remover."

"Do you miss them?" Helal asked timidly, as if she feared the answer.

"Yes and No." I scrunched up my face and erased the board with my hand. "It's complicated." Erasing once more, I tried again. "My sister's got kids of her own, a little boy and two young girls. My brother's engaged to get married and was already testing the waters to see if I'd be willing to move out of our old family home so he and the missus could settle down there." The board filled up and I removed the old words, Helal looking even guiltier now. "I'd kind of been feeling a little out of place helping out my brother with the farm. He loved that thing. I merely did it to have something to do, earn my keep and all that." A final erase. The chalk squeaked, leaving its residue on the slate board. The little pieces of chalk acted as a bridge between our hearts, a trembling thing that threatened to splinter at the slightest gust as I poured my shameful truth into the open. "At least here I feel helpful. Needed."

Trembling, I threaded my fingers through hers. Using a fingernail, I tapped the final underlined word. Helal swept me into an embrace, one arm around my waist while the other was palmed the back of my head, fingers curling around my dark locks possessively pressing me into her neck.

"I do. Need you that is," she whispered into my ear.

Then she was gone, the cloth door to her room flapping with the haste of her passage. Shrugging, I returned to the armor, scrubbing and waiting for the chemicals or magic to do their thing. It took three coats before I had the breastplate gleaming like new. Humming a tune in my head I set about making us dinner.

Some fried sausage and potatoes with some sauteed mushrooms sounds good.

Dinner went fine, but over the next two days Helal seemed to avoid me, not maliciously, but I could feel the pressure from frustration and withdrawal build. I'd almost reached the point of boiling over and confronting her when the bell outside our tent rang. The peals were just beginning to fade when a cheerful male voice called out.

"Helal, I'm here to see your s-... ward. We'd discussed it's problems previously, something to do with it's control sigil having an additional component."

Helal sprung for the door like a child on Christmas morning, her relief obvious, her more recently common expression of sterness slipping just enough to indicate the hollows stress had excavated from the corner of her eyes.

"Thank you for coming doctor." Helal welcomed the giant of a man with a handshake and a pat on the shoulder. He had dark tan skin and was built like André the Giant. Plain tan robes hung from his frame, almost monistic in their style, they billowed enough that every motion seemed exaggerated, lending everything an air of importance.

"It's what I'm here for," he said matter-of-factly, rolling up his sleeves. "Now, what seems to be her problem?" His affability faded in favor of a more professional demeanor.

"As I told you earlier, his problem is that he can't speak. We've had to resort to communicating through writing."

I held up my chalkboard in what I hoped was a helpful manner.

"Hmmmm. Interesting. Well, let's take a look." He ruffled through his voluminous pockets. His hands emerged with a smooth trapezoidal shaped stone, about the size of a deck of playing cards, a hole the size of a quarter through the center. Holding his hands out in parallel horizontal planes, he pinched the stone between his palms. An unfelt wind stirred the tent, teasing the senses. Magic danced across the nape of my neck. Abraham's hands separated, but the stone stayed still. Levitating, the stone remained in the exact same spot. A cold beam burned through me like a spotlight through a pane of ice. Humming, he closed an eye and looked through the stone like a scope while rotating the stone, manipulating the beam across my body. The residual cold ended at my head where it sat for a few moments.