Satan's Whore Ch. 01

A sharp tug at her anus brought her back to her own meal. She almost choked on the sickly sweetness of the husband's coming release.

Time to finish this, thought Kat.

She sat on him fully, burying him within the tight confines of her pussy and clenched herself around him.

The initial gasp at the pressure soon morphed into a moan as she squeezed him within her.

In the background, Kat could hear the wife's own inexorable passage to release.

Kat rose, running her merciless grip up his length before plunging down again. The first wisps of doubt were insinuating themselves into the flavor of his desire. This inhuman pressure could not be right. His eyelids fluttered.

Kat hadn't realized that she'd resolved into her demon form but the look in the husband's eyes as they settled on her revealed as much. She plunged on him yet again, reveling in the sudden surge of confusion and dread that now mixed with his arousal.

That's more like it, she said to herself.

She opened herself to it, allowing his energy to suffuse her being. She took it greedily with a single-mindedness born of the hunger and emptiness of the last months. She tingled with it.

She rode him hard until, gasping, he spurted his seed within her, the last but most precious thing he could offer her.

She opened her eyes and regarded the husband for a moment. He stared at her in horror as he tried in vain to extricate himself from Kat. "You. You're a..."

Kat feigned confusion for a moment. "Oh, the horns and wings. I guess they do kind of give it away. Did you expect bat wings perhaps? I prefer feathers myself. More feminine, don't you think?"

The husband didn't appear interested in discussing the benefits of wing types with her. She shrugged, reached for her wing and plucked a feather from it. It lay in the palm of her hand, ice-white and delicate. The man watched, eyes still wide. Kat could feel him growing small within her. No matter, she'd gotten what she'd so desperately needed.

She pursed her lips and blew gently onto the feather, sure to angle her hand in such as way that the man could see. Slowly, the feather morphed into a thin white snake, about eight inches long.

Kat stroked it with her index finger. "You recognize the symbolism, of course," she said.

The man nodded as the snake wound itself between her fingers.

"Good," said Kat.

She dismounted and the man scrabbled towards the head of the bed, as far from her as he could get.

"I'm not done with you," she said. She knelt on the bed beside him. The snake navigated the tender spaces between her fingers, knotting itself around them and then slipping free. The husband watched, hypnotized.

"Spread your legs."

The man shook his head.

"I won't ask you again. Spread your legs."

Hesitantly, the man complied, revealing the shriveled state of his manhood.

The hand that held the snake quickly descended on him. He gasped in horror as the snake detached itself from her fingers and encircled his scrotum and cock. He gazed at it, struck dumb with horror as the snake opened its mouth and a delicate forked tongue darted out. At length, the tip of its tail waved before its face and inserted itself into the mouth, entering perhaps an inch. The mouth clamped shut over it and the snake moved no more.

"Here's the deal. You alone will see and feel the snake every day as a reminder of tonight. If you raise a hand to any woman again the snake will consume itself. You can infer what happens then. You will sleep now. Tomorrow you will remember only me and your lesson."

"I think it's time we leave," said Jean-Paul.

He had tucked in the wife. His hand lay on her head in some strange and tender benediction. She now lay curled on the edge of the bed as far from her husband as she could get without tumbling to the floor.

For all of the devil's work that had been done tonight, thought Kat, she hoped that some good had come of it.

***

"A little over the top, wasn't it?"

Jean-Paul offered Kat his arm and she wound hers through it. The energy she'd so long denied herself still sang in her.

"I mean," he continued, "I appreciate a good bit of drama as much as the next guy, but that was perhaps a little too much."

Kat felt a pang of guilt. Jean-Paul had a point. Although not expressly forbidden, it was considered bad form for a demon to reveal herself to a mortal, not to mention that it represented a failure to use other, more subtle methods to achieve the desired effect. Of course, sometimes it had to be done, but to do so on the occasion of a first visitation was considered amateurish.

"It's been a while." That and the fact that the husband had gotten the better of her, she thought to herself.

Jean-Paul patted her arm. "Now that you're back in the saddle, you'll be able to refine your approach."

They walked on, a meandering route that took them to the general area of the house that they shared with Isabel, another succubus and matron of their little family. They might have been lovers, returning home from an evening on the town.

Kat remained silent for several minutes as she replayed the events of the evening. It had all been too neat -- Jean-Paul's appearance, the husband's unexpected presence, the need for Kat's intervention.

"You planned this, didn't you?" asked Kat at length.

Jean-Paul hesitated for a moment and then nodded.

"You knew the husband was there all along," said Kat.

"And you, if you'd had your wits about you, would have known that as well. You should have felt him there long before you set eyes on him."

It was stated lightly but there was a note of accusation in his statement. Worse, it was entirely true.

She'd been played, she realized. It had all been a setup.

Kat stopped and turned on Jean-Paul. "How dare you?"

Jean-Paul frowned.

"How dare you interfere with me, lead me along as though I were a recalcitrant child?"

"Because you are a recalcitrant child. You've been moping around the house like a maladjusted teenager. You're Satan's fucking whore, Kat, not some emo adolescent."

She raised a hand to strike him, but he caught is easily.

"The truth hurts, huh? Well, here's some more truth. I dare because my house is harboring a thankless freeloader who is threatening the very existence of our clan."

Kat was speechless. She'd never had Jean-Paul's fury directed at her.

"You might not have noticed given your pained self-absorption, but Isabel and I have been running interference for you for months. Did you ever stop to realize that however distasteful our role in the grand game, we all have a job to do? We don't have the luxury of self-pity. Our masters are not well-disposed to coddling the weak.

"Had I recognized the danger earlier," continued Jean-Paul, "I would never have offered you sanctuary. Now it is too late for that. You have turned their attention to this house and it has got to stop. I dare, furthermore, because Asmodeus has an interest in your failure. And you know what that means."

The name sent a shiver down her spine. Asmodeus. She'd had no idea.

"The coddling stops now."

Jean-Paul spun on his heel and stalked away from her, leaving Kat alone in the empty street.

***

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