The Celestial Spear

Ascension: To become One with Mount Celestia is to sacrifice oneself for the good of all

That damned poster of a single lantern archon looking up towards the impossibly high peak of the heavenly realm was meant to be inspiring, motivational even. However, it only made Taraliel reconsider the choice she had made when she crossed over from the infernal bureaucracy of the Nine Hells to the infernal bureaucracy of the Seven Heavens.

Taraliel hadn't always been her name. But it was customary for those who moved up from the lower planes to change names as a symbolic first step towards the greater good. She'd been a devil, a few centuries ago. A pawn in the infernal machine that was the Nine Hells, dedicated to the corruption of mortal souls to fuel the eternal Blood War.

She had been excellent at that. Sometimes, she missed it.

"Morning, Tara," a cheerful, ringing voice said as an enormous stack of papers was dropped onto the cambion's desk. "Another day, another soul saved!"

"Yeah, morning," Tara replied tiredly, looking up briefly at the jolly archon who was pushing about a cart filled with paper enough that even Moradin's forges might have proven insufficient to burn. She didn't stare at the brightly-lit creature for long, though, as its luminescence was almost blinding to the devilish woman.

Many were those who thought lantern archons to be floating balls of light. But beyond that blinding light, Tara could clearly see the outline of a very feminine form. She wondered if that might have been what the soul's owner might have looked like in life.

Lantern archons were the most recent additions to the celestial host and had not yet been worn down by ages of fighting against the evils of the lower planes. They were the only tolerable of the celestial creatures that inhabited the plane of lawful goodness.

"Any big plans this weekend?" the light-creature asked, smiling down at Tara. "I'm hosting a little gathering at my place, if you feel like coming. I mean, it's for the newbies like us, so I think it'll be good to meet new people, don't you think? Not that you're a newbie! You've been here two hundred years and me a measly hundred or so, but, you know..."

"Thanks, Duriel," Tara said as she began looking through the massive stack of papers that had been dropped onto her desk, sorting them into smaller, more manageable piles. "But I think I just want to relax a bit... Maybe next time?" the red-skinned she-devil offered, trying not to sound too dismissive of the invitation, a slight smile on her lips.

"Oh, of course!" the bouncy Duriel nodded. "Let me know! Oh, uh. I guess I should be distributing these! See you around!" she said as she started pushing her cart towards the next desk. Had the adorable creature been granted that capacity, Tara was convinced there might have been a blush on the archon's cheeks.

It was true that she was exhausted. She had not become a celestial being yet, despite endless promises, and simply staying on Mount Celestia, even at its base, proved a rather draining affair. Especially after two centuries.

She had hoped that her hard work would pay off someday, that the higher-ups would see how dedicated to Good™ she was. She didn't want to be sent back to Malbolge.. But at least she could get promotions there, and she was the one doing the torturing and teasing, not...

"Don't give up, Tara, you'll get that promotion soon enough," a snicker pulled her from her thoughts, then.

Azuriphel had once more turned up to tease her, wearing her usual office attire: a beige blazer with a white shirt along with a beige pencil skirt. Definitely more expensive than anything Tara could currently afford.

"What do you want?" Tara asked, red glowing eyes boring holes into the angelic creature, a pin in the shape of a blade at her breast identifying her as one of the sword archons. Already visibly annoyed by the unwanted presence, Tara's fist squeezed around the pen she had in her hand. Nothing at that moment would have brought her more joy than to jam the thing into the smug angel's neck.

But she held back and dismissed those violent thoughts. For Good™, of course.

Azuriphel's fiery orbs looked down at the papers on Tara's desk, taking a nonchalant sip of her morning coffee. There was no such thing as morning or evening on the bottom layer of Mount Celestia, but that didn't stop anyone from pumping themselves full of that holiest of caffeinated drinks. "Oh, just checking up on you. You know, we're kind of worried. Most infernal transfuges end up being promoted after only a century. You're nearing your third..."

Of course, the devil knew exactly why that was. She worked hard, but she couldn't help a few evil acts here and there. Harmless, mainly. Things such as accidentally littering or inadvertently forgetting to return books to the library of Heart's Faith. Her current minor crime was the theft of office supplies. It was the only way she could really survive in this place. Allowing herself those simple pleasures made things that much easier.

And Tara knew, also, that the archon's presence did not come from a place of kindness and compassion. She enjoyed seeing Tara suffer. The longer one had been in service to Lawful goodness, it seemed, the closer they got to the sadistic urges of the evil Baatezu and Tanar'ri.

"Yeah, thanks. Really appreciate it," the red-skinned woman replied, tucking a loose strand of black hair behind a pointed ear. Her eyes scanned over the papers before her, trying her best to ignore the enormous winged archon now sitting on the edge of her desk.

A chuckle left Azuriphel's lips then. "No matter how hard you work, or how much you lot get promoted, you'll always be the same evil souls, deep down," Azuriphel half-whispered, leaning in to make sure Tara heard her. "All it takes is just a little prodding for the real you to come out," she said, grinning as she stood up and knocking over one of Tara's paper stacks onto her desk and onto the pure white marble floor in a pretend-accident. "Oops! Well, I'd help you pick those up, but I've got evil to smite."

"I should go ask Zariel how she feels about this issue," Tara casually said as her eyes scanned over a petitioner's soul-chart, slowly stacking the papers back neatly on her desk, unperturbed by the archon's bullying. "Heard she knows quite a bit about the irreformability of souls."

It was all Tara could do to keep a smirk from forming on her lips as tense silence filled the air. Zariel's downfall had always been a sore spot for the goodly beings of the Seven Heavens. Celestial beings fell to evil now and again, but Zariel's position had made her downfall that much more painful for the denizens of the plane.

Not only that, but the legendary Solar had become one of the greatest advocates for the redemption of evil souls and had put many programs in place to aid creatures from the Lower Planes. She had been backed by Lathander himself, much to the dismay of those other goodly deities who thought evil should simply be crushed underfoot rather than given a chance at redemption.

Tara had been one of those saved by one such program, though she had never met Zariel herself.

A single hand came slapping down violently onto Tara's work, forcing the cambion to look up at her interlocutor. "Listen here, hellspawn, you're fucking with the wrong archon. Maybe I can't slice you open here and now, but I'll make sure you never ascend."

Seeing the unimpressed look in Tara's eyes made the archon straighten and, with a huff, she stormed off.

"What a way to start the day," the red-skinned woman said, suppressing a yawn. She looked up at the clock, its golden hands indicating that only half an hour had passed since the start of the day.

This would be a long one.

✨ ✨ ✨

The workday was almost over when Tara managed to finish sorting the last of her day's cases.

She'd been assigned to the identification of those souls worthiest of joining Ilmater, the god of endurance, suffering, and martyrdom. Given the torture that this current job was to her, it was hard not to laugh inwardly at that irony.

She'd placed those papers destined for Ilmater's archons in a box labelled as such and the others in a few other boxes, ready to be picked up for further sorting. At least she didn't have to carry the boxes herself. She didn't know where they were taken, exactly, or who was even in charge of putting together those cases.

Evaluating souls, however, was an easy job for one who'd served in the Nine Hells' acquisitions department for so long. Part of her still wanted to see if she could twist those souls into something darker.

"Heeeey! Tara!" came a sudden voice from in front of her desk, just as the cambion was reaching for her bag.

"Hm?" Tara's eyes looked up at the source of that cheerful voice, only to see a woman standing there, angelic wings at her back and two red dog ears coming from her otherwise perfectly humanoid body.

A very humanoid and ridiculously proportioned female body, for from the woman's chest hung two of the fattest, most obscene tits Tara had ever seen. Had she been drinking anything, she might have spit it out in surprise.

The gigantic, angelic tits seemed full and round, quite nearly reaching the woman's hips and stretching her shirt's buttons to their utmost limits. Two of those buttons had apparently already given up and the abundant flesh overflowed from the gaps presented.

"It's me! Duriel! I've been promoted!" the cheerful archon said, giving a twirl to give Tara a full view of her new form. Every part of her seemed just as exaggerated.

Of course. Someone who'd been there a fraction of the time Tara had ended up getting promoted before her. It was hard not to feel jealous of that fact.

"Oh, very nice. Hound archon?" Tara asked, placing her bag on her table as she struggled to keep her gaze from those mountainous orbs of flesh wobbling about her friend's chest.

The hound archon nodded excitedly. "Oh yeah! I'm going on patrol tomorrow! I'm going to be accompanying a Deva on some mission to see how we can help some mortals defeat a spooky necromancer!"

Tara did her best to appear impressed and to suppress the jealousy boiling within her. "Wow, that sure is something, Duriel. How long will you be gone?"

Duriel shrugged, causing her monumental udders to jostle about, the outline of her bra's cups visible through the inadequate fabric of her shirt. "Few weeks, few months... hard to tell! It's so exciting! Oh, and I put in a good word to Lunira for you. You know, so maybe you can get promoted soon, and we can go on adventures together. I mean, I like accompanying the angels on their trips to the Material, but I really like hanging out with you."

The cambion smiled at that. Duriel was quite sweet. Outside Tara's frequent indulgences, her peppy friend had been one of the few truly good things about this place. "Well then, let's just hope they take the word of their best new hound archon into consideration."

Taraliel, please report to your superior's office.

The two women exchanged a glance.

"Oh my, good luck!" the excited woman effused, barely containing her excitement. "I guess we're all getting promoted!"

Could they really have put that much weight behind Duriel's recommendation?

"I guess this is it, eh," the red-skinned woman said, standing up and straightening her jacket. "How do I look?"

She tried to hide her apprehension as she stood up straight to be inspected by Duriel. She didn't want to worry her friend.

"Not bad, not bad," the hound archon said, eyes looking over Tara's slim form briefly. "Very professional."

Taraliel, please report to your superior's office.

The voice summoning Tara was more insistent this time.

"Go go go!" Duriel said, spinning Tara around and giving her a gentle nudge towards Lunira's office. "I'll see you when I come back from that trip!"

Tara could only hear the sound of her own heartbeat and the rhythmic clicking of her heels on the spotless marble floor. It seemed that she had passed countless perfect rows of desks as she made her way to the office, others whispering to each other as she did so, staring at the she-devil.

"Today's the day. Today's the day. Today. Is. The. Day," she repeated to herself over and over, trying to appear calm and collected in front of her colleagues. It felt as though every pair of eyes in the office was on her, then.

A series of raps tore her from that trance-like state. Her body felt numb as she knocked on Lunira's office door. It didn't take long for the intricately carved oaken door to swing open, as if pulled by some unseen force.

"Ah, come in," came a soft, soothing voice. The word angelic might have been appropriate, though Tara thought it might have been a smidgen on the nose.

The room that lay beyond was immaculate with innumerable books filling the shelves that made up the walls on either side. Those walls stretched towards a single desk sat upon a dais, beyond which could be observed Mount Celestia itself from a tall, arched window. A leather chair was turned to that view.

The cambion took a step inside. The light in the place, reflecting off every surface it seemed, felt as though it might overwhelm her at any moment and she winced. "Y-you called for me?" she asked tentatively, to which the Throne Archon only replied with an otherworldly chuckle.

"I did. Do not fear, young Taraliel," the enticing voice called. "I would see you up close."

No more words needed to be spoken as Tara found herself compelled, though not by spell or enchantment, but by the simple presence of the woman at the other end of that corridor-like office. She walked up the steps and stood, waiting.

Slowly, the chair turned, allowing Tara to gaze upon the first throne archon she'd ever witnessed. The woman's skin seemed to be made of the same marble as the surrounding floors and walls, while her hair was like a delicate cascade of snow framing her perfect features. Radiant blue eyes stared hard at Tara, and the cambion felt as though a spear had been driven through her very soul.

She was being tested.

Tara's knees buckled, and she found herself on the ground, palms to the cold floor. "A-ah... What's happening to me?" she managed between gasps. It felt as though she was being drowned in holy water, with how every part of her seemed to have been set aflame.

But she resisted, even as images of every despicable act she had ever committed flitted through her mind.

"Do you know why you cannot be promoted, Taraliel?" the woman's heavenly voice boomed as she stood.

The cambion looked up at the impeccably formed woman, the statuesque celestial standing probably eight or nine feet tall. Her impressive bust seemed to struggle against her white shirt's buttons. She wasn't as endowed as Duriel, but she was definitely stacked as hell, or, rather, heaven. Certainly much more endowed than Tara and her barely-there boobs.

A jolt of radiant fire burned through her spirit at those indecent thoughts, and Tara shook her head weakly, barely able to move a muscle. It felt as though her entire body was being encased in solid gold.

"It is not because of your petty crimes. The littering, the stolen office supplies, none of those acts weigh against you when your name comes up for review," Lunira said, walking around her enormous desk to stand in front of Taraliel. "It is because, in these actions and in the way you carry yourself, you never consider others, even if those people care for you."

Tara grunted, struggling against the penitentiary gaze of the archon. "I-I... when I came here..."

"You did not come here to help others, you came because you believed it would afford you an easier life. True, things may appear easier here, as we do not backstab and betray one another as readily as those of the lower planes do. It has become abundantly clear that simply being among us would not change you, Taraliel, as you refuse to spend any time with your colleagues outside the work hours given to you.

"However, we are not cruel. We will not send you back to Baator. Instead, we will test you. You must show that you are willing and able to put the needs of others before your own..." she spoke more slowly now, and the fiery blue orbs that were her eyes lessened in intensity, returning to Tara her freedom. There was compassion in those eyes and deep love.

The deviless gasped as she found herself in control of her own limbs once more. "H-ha... What the fuck was that..." She looked down at herself, half-expecting the flesh to have been flayed from her.

Lunira chuckled and stood before the prostrate Tara. With her body her own once more, Tara's eyes wandered down the archon's body and her eyes nearly popped from her skull when she spotted the enormous, inhuman bulge running from the woman's crotch. It quite nearly went past her knee, its outline running down the front of her dark grey skirt. The unmistakable meat-python seemed to be held in check by nothing more than Lunira's semi-opaque stockings.

Horror, anticipation and deep hunger assailed Tara at the sight, and she looked up at Lunira, biting her lower lip, as if waiting for her to give any indication of what was needed.

The archon simply stared, and her mighty she-cock throbbed. Tara feared it would simply tear free of its restraints but, through some miracle of the gods of Mount Celestia, such did not happen.

To become one with Mount Celestia...

Tara brought her hands up, pressed her palm to the behemoth, felt its heat against her fingers. Its girth surpassed the breadth of her hand. She swallowed nervously.

... is to sacrifice oneself for the good of all ...

That giant fem-prick throbbed angrily against the cambion's touch, red fingers caressing the stocking-covered beast. Her breath quickened under Lunira's gaze. Her heart pounded with excitement, the exquisite scent of that overgrown cock filling her nostrils. Fuck, she wanted it. So badly. Every ounce of her wanted that gigantic fuckpole in her mouth. She wanted to feel it stretch every part of her out.

... and only then will you know true joy.

Tara's lips were slightly agape as she watched the thing grow from her delicate touch, and she began rubbing Lunira's cock a little harder, eliciting an appreciative gasp from the angel.

"Very good," the archon breathed, her radiant blue eyes watching the devil's work, her breathing steady.

Though part of her wanted to witness the spectacle that would come of Lunira's cock freeing itself from its restraints, another part of her wanted the thing out in the open as soon as possible, to admire it.

And so her fingers gripped the hem of the throne archon's stocking, rolling it down her powerful, elegantly muscled thighs. Down and down it went, revealing inch after inch of that overgrown slab of meat. Every vein pumped blood along the impossible organ, slowly bringing it to life.

Tara's eyes were wide at the display, watching as it grew and grew as she revealed it. When at last a whole yard of half-hard fuckmeat hung before her, she could see that fat, precum-oozing head. The devil's hands shook slightly, fingers running along the smooth surface of that godly femcock, running up and down its length. Even touching her index fingers and thumbs together to form an 'O' proved insufficient to fully encompass its girth.

"It's so... so huge..." Tara uttered, amazed at it as she attempted to lift it. The thing rose, though much of that was from its own rigidity rather than Tara's efforts.

Lunira laughed softly. "I could make it smaller, if you wish..." she offered, a smirk on her full lips, knowing well what Taraliel would reply.