The Cellar Ch. 05

"I don't share," Lucien snarled.

"Is she bound to you?"

"You are already aware that she is not bound to me."

"Then I see no problem." Barbas rose swiftly and turned toward the stairs. "No need to direct me, I believe I remember the way to your guest quarters. I expect she will be in shortly?"

"She will have no want for you," Lucien bellowed after him.

"I think we are both very well aware of how little that matters."

Seething, Lucien felt his lip curl as he watched Barbas disappear up the staircase, and when the door closed, he rushed to the bedroom.

"Pack your things," Lucien blurted as he rushed through the door.

"Why? What are you doing?" she asked, startled to see him pulling her clothes from the armoire. "Lucien! Stop! What's going on?"

"He is requiring your presence in my spare bedroom and he is not looking to have a chat with you."

"Oh, so when can I come back?"

"You can't."

"Never? After everything you put me through? You're telling me I can't come back?"

"Never."

"And you?"

"I will think of you every day."

"Lucien, no." She grabbed his arm. "I'll do it; I'll close my eyes and just do it. I know how to detach. Besides, how bad could it be?" she forced an uncomfortable laugh.

"Bad. Very, very bad," he insisted, with desperate eyes.

"Lucien, will it keep me here with you?"

"Theoretically... maybe... yes, in all likelihood."

"Then there's no need for discussion, I'll do what he's asking."

She kissed him on the cheek and slipped quickly from the room before he had a chance to consider the consequences.

Joelle shuffled down the hall and pushed open the door, slipping inside. "I'm here," she whispered in a shaky voice.

"Wonderful news. I knew Lucien would not let me down," he cackled. "You can remove your clothes and wait for me on the bed, I shan't be a minute."

"You can do this," she mumbled under her breath as she slipped from her clothes and lay prone on the bed, unable to look at his face as he entered the room.

The feel of his hands along the curve of her thigh sent a wave of panic through her body. Slowly and methodically, he wove his hands down her legs, grasping her ankles tightly and abruptly flipping her over.

"I think I'll save that position for later," said Barbas in a smiling voice, as he tightening his grip. "I am afraid I'm going to have to ask you to open your eyes as well."

With tremendous force, he yanked open her legs and stared into her eyes. Nearly every thought slipped from her mind, leaving only Barbas' sensual touch. It felt as though what was about to happen was the most natural thing in the world.

All fear and anxiety slipped into the ether and she felt her knees fall away, beckoning him inside. It took less than a moment for him to respond and he moved easily between her parted legs, resting his turgid cock against the furrow of her hungry cunt.

"Fuck me," she demanded as she gazed at his magnificent gift.

There was no gentle teasing, no sensual play, just momentary pangs of pain, followed by extraordinary pleasure. Barbas' skills bested any she'd ever known and she thrust her hips, enjoying the full ecstasy of what he offered. When he finally freed her ankles she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him even deeper still.

Barbas grabbed her waist and wedged himself inside, rocking his hips until she cried in delight. With his full length he impaled her, over and over, lifting her ass from the bed and sinking farther still.

"Fuck me!" she screamed, unable to contain her pleasure. "Fuck me harder!"

"Joelle, have you ever felt such pleasure before?"

"Never," she gushed.

He rolled his hips and paused before plunging deep into core. "Tell me you want none other," he purred, pulling his cock from her.

"I never want another," she squealed. "Put it back in, please," she pleaded. "Fuck me, do it," she demanded, "fuck me!"

"Do you want me inside you for all eternity," he purred again.

"Yes, yes! Please! Fuck me already, don't make me beg anymore! I want you, fuck me forever!"

"Nicely done." Barbas pulled her from the bed and sat her on the vanity, spreading her legs to the point of pain. Tauntingly, he toyed around the edges of her pussy with the head of his dick, slipping it in and quickly pulling it away as her excitement grew.

"Barbas, please I want to feel your cock in me, I want to feel you fucking me, slide it in, fuck my pussy Barbas, fuck me." Her hands fumbled to pull him inside, using her legs to draw him closer.

"On your knees," he demanded, pushing her to floor and shoving the head of his cock against her lips.

Without hesitation she obliged, wrapping her mouth around his thick shaft and rolling her tongue across the steep ridges of the glans. Eager to feel every inch inside her mouth, Joelle sank her nails into his hips and pulled him closer. Barbas responded immediately, seizing clumps of her hair and thrusting his cock into her mouth and down the back of her throat, causing her to gag. Though her throat fought against the violation; her mouth continued to work him in, wrapping tightly around his shaft and sucking eagerly at its stocky base.

Joelle felt him thicken as the throbbing of his shaft intensified. Ferociously she sucked at his pulsing flesh as his orgasm mounted, wanting to feel the explosion of his seed filling her mouth. With a final, brutal thrust, she felt his stunning cock slip down her throat and with a primal growl, he came. His bitter, acidic seed burned as it spilled down her throat and yet thirstily she swallowed, sucking every last drop from the head of his cock.

Still erect, Barbas pulled her from the floor and tossed her against the vanity, his eyes recapturing her gaze as he pushed her in front of the mirror. Stepping behind her, she felt his thick shaft slide against her clit, sending a wave of orgasm through her pelvis and she rolled her hips, offering him better advantage of her quivering flesh.

When he plunged back in it was as if the world simply ceased to spin, as if everything washed into a sea of nothingness and all that remained was his cock inside her. Joelle slammed her ass against his pelvis, matching his every stroke. But just then, as his eyes closed, she saw him for who he really was and screamed in horror.

His shimmering skin, black as onyx, seemed to capture the sun's rays and snuff its very essence from the room. Voluted horns crowned his brow like swirling wisps of coal smoke and his luxuriant hair was gone, replaced by scaly nubbles. And when his red eyes, the color of molten lava, rested upon hers, it felt as if they bore a hole straight through her heart.

"Lucien!" she screamed in desperation, the memories and images and emotions, flooding back into her mind. "Lucien, please!"

When she struggled to get away, Barbas pulled her from the vanity and tossed her back onto the bed. Joelle felt a wave of paralysis consume her muscles, locking them in place. Her eyes fell to the scaly, coarse cock which slammed inside her aching pussy, each stroke burning and tearing at her tender flesh. With a broad smile, Barbas pulled from her and sank to the floor, drawing his mouth against her clit and sliding his forked tongue inside her.

As desperately as she tried to close her eyes, they remained fixed on Barbas' mouth as his thickening tongue slithered inside. Horrified, she felt it twisting and writhing deep within her core, like a snake. A piercing scream filled her throat as it pounded painfully against her cervix. Joelle felt her body weaken and bleakness consume her, as if a layer of her soul had been stripped away. All that was light now felt dark and she began to slip away.

Mercifully, Barbas allowed her to close her eyes but when a new sensation filled her, she instinctively opened them again. This time, he was no longer Barbas at all, he was Carl, her short-term stepfather, the same man who had stolen her virginity. And she screamed again as his corpulent, sweaty body moved between her legs.

Lucien rushed from the house, unable to bear the sounds of her torment. He knew what Barbas was doing, torturing him, by torturing her. It was clear that, despite his assurances to the contrary, Barbas understood the depth of his feelings for Joelle. Barbas knew that listening to her vacillate between absolute ecstasy and sheer terror would collapse him. And it did, completely and without question. But saving her was beyond question, Barbas would strike him down before he even entered the room, and the penalty inflicted upon her would be far greater.

Despite the rising sun, Lucien stormed the grounds for hours, violently taking out his rage on the local plant life, downing several large trees before shattering them into sprays of sawdust. But when the sun began to set and her screams still echoed throughout the house, his rage could no longer be tempered. It wasn't enough to destroy nature, he wanted to kill something, to share with someone else the terror Joelle felt.

"John Franklin Ballows!" Lucien roared as he rushed for the car. "714 Forest Park Drive."

This time it was irrelevant that this man John had a family; perhaps that was something he should have considered before raping the girlfriend of a servant of Lucifer.

Lucien regarded John with a broad smile as he walked up the driveway. "Do you remember me John?" he asked pleasantly, a wicked smile playing against his face.

"Should I?" John asked, pulling his briefcase from the backseat of his shiny new SUV.

"We met very briefly, in the motel room of a woman you defiled. I will not speak her name as you do not deserve the privilege of hearing it."

"Jo..."

"Ah!" Lucien interrupted, "I would ask that you not speak it either, as the thought of it rolling off your tongue makes me ill."

"What do you want?" John demanded.

Lucien stepped in and wrapped his hand around John's neck.

"John, my employer has bestowed upon me certain privileges. Eternal life, powers of persuasion, the strength of a god, the basics. He has also afforded me the precious gift of vengeance without sanctions. I fear no harm of retribution, there is no prison which could house me, and my soul is already damned. So tonight John, you and I are going to discuss the meaning of life."

***

Regardless of Joelle's pleas and tears, Barbas would not release her. Her agony seemed to merely spur him on. He toyed with her for hours, bringing her to the very heights of euphoria before letting her crash into the depths of despair. It delighted him to watch her suffer. And when he was done, he tossed a blanket over her wilted body and left her to writhe in agony.

"Lucien, it was lovely to see you again," Barbas smiled as he descended the stairs. "My sincerest apologies for having worn out your concubine, I have left her in repose upon the bed. She was quite good -- though I have had better."

"You owe me something in return," Lucien roared.

"Certainly I do, how rude of me. A tat for her tit, so to speak," he laughed. "Sadly, it is with my deepest regret that I must inform you that your accord is unbreakable -- unless of course you would care to barter. Give Joelle to me and I will see to it personally."

"I see," Lucien snarled, "thank you for your generous offer, however, I think we will pass."

"Pity." He shrugged. "I am truly sorry I could not be of more service to you. But I do so look forward to our next visit together."

"Quite alright, it was a pleasure seeing you again."

"Lucien please, the pleasure was entirely mine." Barbas smiled wickedly, closing the door behind him.

"Fucker," he growled, slamming his first through the marble pillar beside the door. But as soon as the rage was exhausted on the stone, his mind turned immediately to Joelle and he raced up the stairs to see her. "Are you alright?" Lucien asked as he sat beside Joelle on the bed, Barbas' putrid stench coating her body.

"Get me out of this bed!" she screamed, her voice trembling.

"Of course." Lucien pulled her from beneath the covers, revealing the true extent of the vile malodor. Worse still were the severe bruises which coated her body and the sickly yellowing of her skin. "May I draw you a bath?"

"A shower." She sunk her head under his chin as a deluge of tears spilled across her cheeks.

"I am so very sorry Joelle," Lucien muttered as her tears stained his shirt. "I should never have permitted you to give yourself to him."

"How many hours?"

"Joelle, I don't think..."

"How many hours!" she screamed.

"Twenty two," he muttered, feeling her body grow limp between his arms.

Lucien sat with her in the shower as the warm, soothing water streamed across her body. Diligently he inspected her skin for any sign of Barbas' marker and breathed a sigh of relief when he found none. He took his time washing her, making certain every centimeter of her bruised flesh was lathered in soap. The rage percolated in his veins when she screamed, as the soap streamed between her legs, and he beat his fist into the wall until the tiles crumbled.

When satisfied that all traces of Barbas' filth was removed from the loveliness of her body, he wrapped her in his robe and slipped her beneath the covers of their bed, where she lay crying.

"Do you look like him?"

"No," he growled, "not exactly."

"I need to see," she muttered.

"This may not be the best time to..."

"I need to see!"

"Certainly."

Joelle watched Lucien pull from the bed and peel the clothes from his body, dropping them in a pile at his feet. She took in every beautiful, perfect inch of him before closing her eyes and committing that vision to memory. "Tell me when you're ready."

"I will never be ready, but you may open your eyes."

Very slowly she released her lids and set her eyes on his transformed figure. "Oh god, Lucien... what... oh god."

Two fanned wings, as black as night, extended the length of the room. A pair of helical horns crowned his brow, replacing his lovely raven hair, their apex reaching nearly a foot above his head and cascaded around his jaw, coming to an end just above his shoulders. His face, however, looked the same except that the edges and angles were more severe and his skin bore a strange, almost ridged texture. Gone were the sharp green eyes she had grown to love, replaced by ebony spheres.

Lucien now towered over the bed, his normal six foot, three inch frame had almost doubled in size and his sinuous, sleek musculature was now rigid and extreme in their accentuation. Joelle crawled to the edge of the bed, despite the tremors in her muscles, and extended her hand to touch his now shimmering, russet skin.

"I will understand if this alters your feelings toward me."

"You're still beautiful," she marveled, "different, but beautiful. Will you kiss me?"

Very cautiously, Lucien approached the bed, until the tips of Joelle's fingers touched his stomach. For a moment, she withdrew her hand as she recognized the extreme temperature of his skin. Though not hot enough to burn, it was certainly more than a little startling. But within a moment, her fingers returned to his flesh and she took her time touching and examining him.

Joelle grasped his hand and pulled him closer, drawing him toward the bed. As Lucien furled his wings, he sank to the floor at her feet and felt her arms wrap around his neck. Her mouth met his, softly at first and then more urgently, but suddenly she froze, and her body tensed to the point of absolute rigor. Without warning, she jerked away and covered her mouth as if concealing a gag.

"I have frightened you," he assessed, quickly resuming his normal state.

"No," she squeaked as tears began to fill her eyes, "I don't know what's wrong, I feel sick... strange, like I've done something terrible, something awful. I can't explain it."

"Go to sleep, you must be exhausted."

For the next several hours, Joelle grew sicker. A cold sweat coated her skin and, though she could not explain why, she cried uncontrollably. In an effort to warm her flesh, Lucien slowly peeled the robe from her body and settled in against the bare flesh of her quivering back. Finally the tears stopped and her breathing slowed as she drifted off to sleep.

Joelle slept for hours and, though he ached of hunger, he could not bear to part with her, nor could he ask her to give of herself. Barbas had decimated her, and it would take her many days to recover all that he had stolen from her.

When night crept across the sky for the third time and still she had not stirred, it suddenly occurred to him that Barbas had taken more than a piece of her soul, he had stolen from her a promise. The illness, the overwhelming sickness she felt, and her inability to recover herself more quickly, all pointed to a theft of some kind. But what Barbas had requested of her was unclear, though Lucien could only imagine it was something that would torture them both.

Certain that Joelle would have no recollection of any commitment she made while entranced, he quietly slipped from the bed and phoned Delilah. "I need you to come here right now," he insisted without preamble.

Nearly an hour later, the flash of headlights bouncing up the drive sent him bolting from the house. Delilah's car had barely slowed to a stop as he pulled open her door.

"Take care of her and your debt will be repaid," he demanded.

"As you command, Lord Luke." Delilah smiled as he rushed into the darkness.

***

"He's gone again," Joelle assessed as she spied Delilah perched in the windowsill.

"That boy is very impulsive, no doubt he is off doing something crazy."

"No doubt," she murmured, "did he say where he was going?"

"Nope, not a peep. So tell me, what has him going so insane these days?"

Joelle described the situation in as much detail as she was privy to, including the unpleasant rendezvous with Barbas, and the unfortunate state of their situation. With thoughtful eyes, Delilah consumed the tale with rapt focus.

"I see, so then there's no doubt he is off doing something utterly foolish."

"How long have you known him?" Joelle asked.

"I stopped keeping track a few hundred years ago, I'd say turn of the millennium -- not this one of course."

"Of course," she giggled. "Are you like him? Like a Succubus?"

"No, definitely not!" Delilah roared.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you," Joelle prostrated, her shoulders slouching.

"My apologies, after all these centuries it's still a touchy subject," Delilah offered sympathetically. "No -- I am Nephilim." She turned quickly and pulled the shirt past her shoulders. "See?"

Joelle looked on in shock as the tiny, jagged remains of two wings slipped from beneath her shoulder blades.

"So what happened?"

"Just a little falling out. Generally speaking, we tend not to do so well down here, so when I ran across Luke, he did me a solid and spoke with the big guy downstairs. You know it's very hard to get an audience with him." Delilah smiled.

"I can image." She shuddered. "What is Lucien like? I mean, I know him as something different than you, but what's he like out there in the world, when he isn't with me?"

"Well, he's stoic mostly. Very calculated and methodical, a wee bit scary. But I've seen him do some remarkable things from time to time, they're curious creatures, don't you think?"

"Yeah, they are. So what has he done that's so remarkable?"

"He loves you. I'd say that's pretty remarkable."

*

*** For those of you following the story, my apologies for taking so long to post Chapter Five, I had intended to get it in much quicker, but life (and a vacation) got in the way. Chapter Six - The Finale, will be out shortly as it's already near completion. A special thanks to all who left feedback or emailed me, you keeping me plugging away. ***