The Cult of the Lamia Ch. 15byGethelred©
Mark, before he was changed, had never had any problems with control. He wanted something, then he had it, even as a human. But, since his deal with Lucifer, that had gone out the window. He felt stronger, but his powers were unpredictable; he could try to do something with all his might, but it wouldn't happen, or he could do something, draw desire from someone, without even meaning to. Of course, Mark thought it was Lucifer that had done that; made him lose that which he had always treasured most, and his lack of control made him take more girls, despite his knowledge of the fact that they were damned and dead for taking him; it made the sex better, and made his orgasm greater. It made him feel more real.
So he was surprised when he tried to apply his powers to what Gabrielle called "The Stain"- the serpent woman masquerading as a human- not only did they work, they went too far; her hands, elbows, mouth, neck, tail; anything that had any potential to move couldn't. He could even feel up and down her body; the mottled, warm feel of her scales, as they crossed over into her skin; the depths of her body, mentally aware even if he had to physically stop himself from being bodily so.
"She is bound," Gabrielle said, her blonde hair clean over one shoulder. Mark had told the others about her, about how she was the first Grigorii on earth. Michelle hadn't cared, but Cassie had recognised her the instant she saw her; Gabrielle called her Sameel, until Cassie corrected her. They had spent much time together, and Mark couldn't help but idly feel a little jealous.
"Who wants to go first?" Michelle said, flexing her wrists. She had been impatient to get underway, but Gabrielle had been a bit wary of letting Michelle anywhere near her.
If Mark was as he was before, he would be amused at the dynamics of his little group; Michelle, as a prodigy and a loner; Cassie and Gabrielle as student and teacher, and as a miniature girls club. Michelle felt almost left out, and she was- frankly- a bit angry about it. She channelled her anger into building the prison; a completely soundproof, sealed chamber, with as many wards protecting it as Gabrielle could provide and Michelle could create.
Michelle was also on the outer because she was becoming somewhat introspective. The difference between her strengths and their potential for improvement was startling; she was constantly discovering new ways to affect nature. She had created the prison with her mind, just by using the natural currents of the world.
Mark, however, felt almost always hollow. His mission existed still, but if he let himself feel at all he would give in to the rage and lust and hate; the hunger. He stared at Jezebel with his blood red eyes unblinking.
Gabrielle turned to Michelle. "I would urge caution, but I think it's somewhat unnecessary. Go."
Mark felt Michelle's rage swell briefly, and contemplated in a detached way how angry she was now, since he came back. He liked it; it attracted him.
Michelle walked into the room, sealing it shut behind her as she moved. The red in her hair was vibrant, blazing out as it caught the artificial light. Her skin was if anything more flawless than before, and her frame was utterly heavenly.
But her posture was that of a predator, her every movement dangerous, fraught with her emotion. Her eyes glowed, and her lips curved into a smile as she surveyed the snakewoman.
"You know," Michelle started, almost conversationally, "I always wondered who ran the cults for you guys. The succubi and the other demons all lack the physical ties to this world to really try to make something like that work."
She walked closer, and caressed the lamia's face softly, bringing her face closer.
"It figures that you needed to be a living demon from this world. Something that predated Lucifer." She smiled, and sent a thought at Mark. (Let her go)
Jezebel pounced, her coils taking less than a second to unwrap themselves. She was fully around Michelle in less than a minute, her coils undulating without squeezing too tightly.
"Tell me, Michelle, have you ever understood the fascination humans have for snakes?"
Jezebel brought her hands up, cupping Michelle's jaw, as she raised it to bite at the flesh of her neck. She scored at the skin with her fangs, not quite breaking the surface but making the pleasure mix with the pain. She could feel Michelle's blood heat up, as her heart began to speed up. She cradled Michelle's head with her overly long fingers, their lengths enough to cover from the crown to her fringe. She brought Michelle's mouth to her own level, and rose up into her mouth, making the touch soft, erotic.
"It's the eyes, Michelle. You look into our eyes, and you see something, something you can't explain, or understand. You can't name it, or touch it, but it's there. It repels you, but you cannot hesitate to move away, and you move closer."
Her hands ran down Michelle's shoulder blades, as her coils worked their way between her legs. The lamia took one of Michelle's hands, and brought it down, to her own slit. Michelle froze, hypnotised by the look in her eyes, the fangs behind her smile.
"We raise our heads, and you see what it is to be cold blooded, to feel nothing save heat, and warmth, and lusssssst..." Michelle moaned, as Jezebel pushed herself onto Michelle's fingers. Her tunnel was unbelievably warm, and soft, but Michelle could feel the scales caressing her fingers, pulling them deeper.
They two collapsed onto the floor, wrapped around each other. Michelle was too far gone in her lust to care, and she used her arms to bring Jezebel closer to her, to her mouth.
Michelle was lying on her back, her body partly on the lamia, as Jezebel worked between Michelle's legs, her hands moving furiously to unwrap the girl. She could feel her heat, and she wanted it.
But first, she wanted her to burn hotter.
For Mark outside, the intensity of what is going on inside was almost too much for him to take. He could feel his own evil stir within, and struggle. Go in there, it said. Go in there, and have them both. Revel in your power over them.
Gabrielle walked over to him, and placed her hand on his forearm lightly.
Michelle lay in a bliss of coils and heat and incredible wetness. She could smell her own arousal, but the lamia's tunnel was perfectly in front of her face, as she moved her fingers in and out of the beautiful slit.
She could feel the open air between her legs, and hissed as she felt the lamia's hands on her inner thighs.
The tip of her tail was long and thick, and Jezebel had no hesitation.
She ran it along Michelle's slit, lubricating it, before thrusting it inside.
Michelle arched her back as the phallus moved within her. She could feel the ribs of the scales along her every surface, and she moved herself almost independent of gravity to a position that maximised her pleasure.
Jezebel panted, as she brought her face to Michelle, and kissed her hungrily. "How is it, Michelle? Is it good, better than him?"
Soon, the lamia thought. Soon.
Michelle rose ever higher, her explosion imminent. It was too much; the coils that were wrapped around her teased at her flesh, as the lamia played her body as though it was an instrument, and the phallus that entered her was almost withdrawing before slamming back into her, far faster than any man could move.
Her body tensed up impossibly, as she screamed out her pleasure to the night, as Jezebel closed in, bringing her teeth to bear on Michelle's throat.