More shitty erotica from college. Everybody wants to bang Satan!
I’ve entered a kind of paralysis; limbs frozen as shots of liquid terror race through my veins. The darkness clamps down like a straitjacket, suffocating and restraining me, while a banshee wind rattles the rotten wood of the decrepit mansion. Nana’s still snoring, deaf to the howling storm outside, and I know I am alone, the only conscious being for miles around.
He’s staring through the rain-dappled window with serpent eyes, crimson skin slick with water. Ebony hair hangs in a tangled mat as he breathes black fog across my window. He smirks, tracing letters in the vaporous sheet:
“Come Out, Helice.”
My legs, moon pale, slide out from under the downy comforter against my will. They lead me the cold stone floor, and like Frankenstein’s monster I stumble out of my room, blindly following the dark corridor of the hallway until I trip over the threshold of the foyer. Crawling on all fours, my limbs lead me to the oak door. My hands clasp the lion-headed doorknob and twist it open. My body rises, clad in a thin white shift, and follows the stone path to the forest.
He whispers in my head, a chthonic language that courses through me like fire. I feel him pull me deep into the woods. The clouds bathe me in their cold showers and if I could, I would grimace in pain, but my face is still as the grave- I cannot even blink the rain off my eyelashes. My bare feet cry out in discomfort, ravaged by sticks and stones. There is no light to see by, yet I make my way through the forest like I have walked these woods for years. He lets me see as he must, with perfect clarity that can discern the slightest shadow.
“It is a night for beasts and black Sabbaths, is it not, Creator?” His voice comes from behind a gnarled chestnut tree as he steps out from behind the trunk. He smiles and releases his hold on me, and with relief I slump against the chestnut, breath coming in gasps.
I refuse to answer him – there’s no way I will give the monster what he wants: attention. I shiver, the chill rain seeping into the marrow of my bones. My surroundings fade to dark shadows and I stare at the black ground, refusing to meet his eyes.
His laugh is hollow as he creeps around the tree trunk, the ghastly red of his eyes illuminating our surroundings. “Creator, your games only serve to amuse me. I can keep you here as long as I desire, Helice…”
I shudder at my name on his husky tongue. I tuck my knees against my face and shut my eyes, willing myself to forget the cold and the monster.
“All I want is company, a bedfellow to while away the lonely hours with. Creator, Creator, I would never hurt you, Creator. Helice…” he hisses in a singsong voice. I feel his strange, seven-fingered hand resting on my shoulder blades, the other stroking my collarbone affectionately.
I scream in fury, grabbing his hands and bending his fingers back with all my strength. With sickening cracks, they break, ripping his flesh. Hot ichor seeps out, hissing as it escapes his cuts. It scalds my skin and I wince, burying my hands in my soaking nightgown. My eyes meet his face, twisted in wry amusement. He is crouched over on all fours, wings erect to shield us from the rain. The monster licks the base of his mangled fingers. The bones grind against each other, back into their proper places, while his flesh heals instantly, steaming as the bloody half-moons I inflicted vanish.
“That was quite unkind, Creator.”
The drops of his acid blood are burning my skin. The focused points of pain send jolts through me. Moans of agony escape my lips, but I can’t run, cornered by the beast.
“You’re in great pain,” he murmurs, taking my raw hands forcefully. I scream at his terrible touch.
“So fragile, so red.”
He laps up the blood like an animal, cat-rough tongue healing my palms. I pray, for mercy, for help.
But there is only me, me and the monster, alone in the depths of the wood.
He licks my blood from thin, blackened lips. His slit-pupils focus on me. I am pinned like a butterfly by his gaze. “Creator, your blood is like providence,” he growls, long, prehensile tongue flicking out to taste the air.
“Why do you torment me?” I demand. My voice shakes like the pulse of a dying man. “When I found you in the woods, on the brink of death, I thought I was showing you mercy. But you’ve turned on me. Tell me, what are you!”
“Your creation,” he hisses, fangs gleaming in the red glow of his eyes.
“I’m not your Creator!” I sob, burying my head in my hands.
I was a fool, to harbor this creature, to take pity on him. In a matter of weeks he has grown thrice-fold, devouring the raw meat he forces me to bring him. He has wheedled his way into my mind and manipulated me like a marionette, utilizing some unholy mind control to puppet me to his will. I should never have let my curiosity keep him a secret, should have told my Nana immediately of the strange being I found in the woods. Batty as she is, perhaps she could have provided some protection.
I remember Nana’s words from when I moved here a month ago: “These lands are cursed, Helice. There is an old, dark corruption in these hills. Be wary when you walk the wooded paths.” A faraway look had settled in her rheumy eyes. “Just as your grandfather and parents lost their lives, so may you if you aren’t careful.”
I had chalked up Nana’s warning to dementia, but now knew there was a dreadful truth to her words. I stare that truth in its gaunt face, all razor cheekbones, sharp as barbed wire. He grins arcanely back at me.
“You want to know where I come from, Creator?” the beast hisses.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He edges close to me, so that I can feel his hot breath through the lace of my nightgown. He toys with the neck of my shift.
“I am judgment, destroyer of worlds. My skin is red with the blood of the slain. I leveled Sodom and Gomorrah to dust, murdered the firstborn filth of Egypt, and I would have annihilated you, had you not shown kindness to me.”
“What?” I murmur, pale with fear.
“I made a deal with God, Creator,” he purrs. “I saw corruption in this world and asked God to destroy it. He refused my judgment. So I made a bet: if I discarded my angelic form and took on humanity’s sins, letting them twist me into something hideous, I wagered no one would show me mercy. The Lord, ever faithful in humanity’s good, said that if a single human showed me kindness, this world would be preserved. I have traveled this planet for decades, taking on the forms of the hated: the homeless, degenerates, enemy combatants in need of mercy. All humanity has treated me cruelly… all but you.”
“Me?” I ask, disbelieving.
“Yes. You were the last test – I assumed my most monstrous form with you, expecting rejection, but instead, you showed me mercy. Though I took the shape of your nightmares, you found it in your heart to help me. God was proven right, and my judgment proved wrong. Because of you, the world was preserved.” He leans in, bat-like wings covering me. I gulp down air at his pinions’ leathery touch. “Now tell me, Creator, has your suffering been worth it?”
I shiver uncontrollably. “Judging angel? You seem more demon than seraph.”
His eyes spark, and he examines his seven taloned fingers. A bestial laugh comes from him. “I suppose I am demonic, in this form…” He cradles my head in his hands. I choke back sobs, recoiling from his touch. “Shh, Creator. Don’t cry. I have brought you pain.” He traces my collarbone, teasing the shift off my shoulders. I am rooted to my spot, fearful of what he will do. “But I can bring you pleasure…”
My eyes widen like dinner plates. “No…” I whisper. “I don’t want that!”
He smiles sadly. “Poor Creator. Alone since the death of your parents. Is it any wonder you helped me?…” He wipes the rain from my brow. “You recognized your brokenness in me. Saw the weight of your pain reflected in the monstrosity I am.”
My lip quivers. “It hurts,” I say, voice raw, “their absence. I dream of the accident every night, and I wake up with bruises on my soul. The pain and guilt: it’s made me a monster myself.” I shake, mind battered. My brain flashes back to my parents’ screams. “That’s why I couldn’t hurt you,” I cry, “no matter how hideous you are – because you were like me. Abandoned. Alone.” I sob into my arms, snot dripping from my nose.
The monster embraces me, and I lean against his chest, thick with alien muscle. He soothes me, running his hands through the wet locks of my hair. I bawl, ragged cries sapping my lungs of strength. I feel light-headed, terrified to be in his grasp, but search for succor nonetheless.
“All I have wanted for days was to be this close to you,” he says, voice rough. “To fix you, Creator, as you have fixed me. I was tired, so tired, of this wretched world. But you showed me kindness, created me anew. Because of you, my faith has been restored.”
“What do you mean?” I breathe.
“That faith is an awful thing to lose. You are sweet, and deserve sweetness in return. Let me give it to you.”
“You can’t give me anything.”
“Can’t I?” He eases me up his leg so I am straddling him. The fabric of my nightgown rides up above my waist. Enfolded in his wings, I clutch at his shoulders, surprised.
“You mean…?” I exhale.
He dwarfs me. The idea is beyond preposterous. And yet…
His blackened lips meet mine, and they burn hot like infernos. Careful not to cut my mouth on his fangs, he sucks at my lower lip, then works his way down to my neck. I gasp, and he groans against my skin – a low, wild sound that exhilarates me.
Hungry, he thrusts me down on his lap, grinding against me. I am made painfully aware of his ridged, turgid cock as it rubs against my groin. My clit aches as the friction builds, and I feel myself grow wet.
His hands knead my back muscles, as if reaching inside my ribcage for my heart. The monster’s lips make quick work of me, fluttering over my skin, sucking and nipping as they trail down my collarbone to my breasts. His breath grows heavy, and he tears my nightdress open. The monster teases the peak of my breast, flicking his tongue over my nipple, then kisses it hard, hands buried in my hair.
“Oh god…” I say, clutching at the back of his head.
He groans again, hot breath raising gooseflesh on my neck. Spreading me open below, his talons retract like cat’s claws, and he reaches deep inside me, thick fingers filling my core. He slides them in and out. I moan, running my hands over the place where wings jut from his back. His red tail curls around my thighs, squeezing hard, and its forked end skims my lips, begging entry. I suck at the hot tip, and he groans, burying his face in my breasts.
“Yes…” he hisses, teasing my breast’s peak. He thrusts the head of his tail into my mouth, and my tongue curls around it like candy.
He plays with my clit, taunting me, then takes his tail from my lips. It shines wet in the glow of his eyes. Gently, he lays me down, and I rest against the leathery softness of his wings. He arches over me like an omen, all muscle and sharp lines, and pins my hands behind me. Taking the thick tip of his tail, he slides it in between the folds of my pink wetness, filling me. It darts in and out, the base of the tail’s head rubbing against my sensitive nub. I shiver beneath him, pleasure building in my solar plexus, and curl my hands around his wrists.
“More…” I moan.
He grins like a shark. Releasing my hands, he descends to pleasure me, prehensile tongue flicking over my clit like a serpent’s kiss. I writhe beneath his working, hands buried in his hair, and he laps at my wetness like a starved man. His tongue spears me, and I am driven to the edge of orgasm.
“I want to take you,” he growls, voice rough.
“Yes,” I breathe, glancing down at his thick, alien cock. Fear and exhilaration form a heady mixture in my core. Gently, he aligns himself with my slit, and his hot member penetrates me with agonizing slowness. My legs curl up above his shoulders as he thrusts, careful not to hurt me with his incredible size. I stretch to accommodate him.
“Faster,” I beg.
“Are you sure?” he exhales. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Yes,” I plead.
He finds an inhumanly fast pace, and I grind against him, derriere slapping against his muscled thighs, riding waves of pleasure.
“Oh… oh!” I moan. It is exquisite, but my ass aches to be filled.
As if sensing my need, he teases my perineum with the tip of his tail, lubricating himself in my juices, pounding into me all the while. Then, tentative, he massages the rosebud of my anus with his tail’s head.
His eyes question me. I nod yes, sinking into the orgasm that comes as he teases my anus open and thrusts his tail inside. Doubly penetrated, I arch my back in pleasure, ecstatic in this strange angel’s arms.
Groaning, he flips me over so I am straddling him. I ride him with abandon, breasts heaving. Our coupling stretches out like shards of white in a snow globe, endless, suspended in joy. He weaves in and out of me like the tide, red flesh hot with wanting.
When he comes, his seed fills me, burning like a brand. It courses down my legs in thick streams. He pulls me to him, groaning my name: “Helice,” he breathes, voice raw.
Spent, he cradles me in arms like sin. I breathe in the petrichor of the rain-spiced air. I turn to my unexpected lover. He smells like musk and wildfires. His irises thrum like the heart of a flame.
“That was… something,” I exhale, overwhelmed by lingering sensations.
He smiles softly, cupping my face. His lips brush mine, and he kisses me without rush.
“You should rest,” he whispers.
I yawn. “But your name…”
“I don’t even know your name…”
He chuckles. “In Heaven, names are unimportant. Sleep, sweet angel,” he coaxes.
The heat from his body warms me, and I fall into the black pool of slumber, not giving a thought to the morrow.
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