(I wrote this when I was high off my own brain, and not only does it involve chili corn dogs, it also involves Satan turning red during sex, bestiality with a naga, and lots of other weird crap. Have fun! This is your brain on mania and psychosis when you are a romance novelist!)
I felt something twitch against my neck.
“Squeaker?” I murmured. Great. The rat had escaped, again. There would be rat crap in my bed. I brushed him from my chest. “Stupid little rodent-”
His tail was obese, scaly, and much too large. It coiled around my wrist like a bracelet then wended its way through my fingers. The bed I laid on shifted, and my pillow sighed.
Pillows. Sighing? It must have been the cafeteria food. Twenty-four hours later, and it still cast its sick spell on me.
“Shana,” someone whispered. A phantom hand brushed my hair. I felt muscled arms wrapped around my waist. Ghost lips touched my brow.
“Great. I’m hallucinating. I knew I shouldn’t have touched that chili corn dog at lunch-”
A rumble of deep laughter shook my ‘bed.’ The pillow-that-was-not-a-pillow felt warm and supple, like it was living. The mouth encompassed mine, silencing my panic. Groggy, I let the lips linger, wondering what the hell had been in that mustard.
The hands guided me onto my stomach and reached down to cup my hips. I ran my hands over Dream Dude’s stubbled cheeks. His chin brushed like sandpaper against my jaw.
“Uh?” I murmured. “A five o’ clock shadow at dawn. I thought those were cast at evening,
“I cast shadows at all hours.”
“Sure you do, dream dude.” I closed my eyes, sucking at the skin in the hollow under his ear. He inhaled sharply, parting me with his fingers. I gasped, grinding into his palm. “That’s funny,” I murmured. “Most of the hot guys in my dreams are blond. And we’re on a tropical island, or a beach somewhere. This place is so dark and broody.”
The scaled thing struck into me. I gasped, cinching around it. The mustard- induced monster guy groaned. He raked sharp nails down my back.
“What the hell!” I gasped.
“This isn’t a dream, maggot,” he said through gritted teeth. “Damn you and your brain of a flea-” He roared as I nailed down on it, trying to shut him up.
“You’re right, dude. This is a chilli dog nightmare. But a strangely erotic one. They must’ve used the devil’s ketchup or something-”
“Stop,” he moaned. “Too much.”
“That’s you’re fault- holy God. You must have really humongous feet- AH?” He writhed impossibly inside me. I moaned, digging my fingers into his shoulder. “What the hell was that!” I demanded.
He sucked at my breasts. “Me.”
A gas lamp hissed to life behind a stained glass window. The not-blankets knotted around my legs, sliding in coils up my midriff. I was burrowed in the knots of a snake.
He groaned, twining around me, and the not-bed surged up until my back was pressed to the wall. He grinded against me, velvety skin yielding to cool scales below his torso.
“I’ve wanted to join like this with you for eons, Havah,” he whispered. His speech was cool as a hiss. “Look at me. I can walk now. I can stand. You gave me my speech and strength. I will protect you as I could not before.” He threaded his fingers through mine, squeezing my hands to his heart. He kissed my knuckles with a flicking tongue. “I am here for you always, Havah. You no longer must walk alone.”
Warmth exploded like fireworks within me. It was the Fourth of July down below. “Are you like Satan or something?” I cried. “All the exploding and fire. We didn’t cover this in sex ed.” I curled up on myself, unable to contain him. It was, as he’d said, too much. “I’m burning. God damn chilli dog.”
He withdrew, wettened by me. The chilli dog-demon’s eyes glowed. “Pray for me, Havah,” he begged, thrusting his tail into my mouth. I bit it in surprise. He groaned, keeling under me. I ran my hand down the shaft, trying to wrench it from my mouth. It snaked down my throat to gag my screams. My wails shook the coils and joined his roars.
“Bloody severed god. Yes.” He withdrew, letting me breath. He caressed me as I shrieked, gazing at me in awe. Sweat clung to his brow. “You are everything, Havah,” he whispered, gently kissing my neck.
“You’re crying?” he murmured, eyes closed as he nipped at my skin. “Don’t cry, my angel. Shana? This is the happiest moment of my life.” The monster rocked me like a child. “Please,” he said weakly, “stop.”
“You’re the Devil.” I choked on snot. “The cafeteria used Satan’s ketchup, and they summoned an unholy demon. Why?” I screamed. “Why didn’t I pack a BLT?”
“Stop!” he pleaded.
“You sound evil. Like Lucifer’s spawn. Why?” I pleaded. “Why me? Don’t eat me, my god, wake up. I can’t wake up-”
“You are awake, maggot. And, I already ate you.”
“But I’ve been dreaming. Dreaming such horrible things. About death and gods and angels. And Samael,” I said with revulsion. “I hate that guy. I hate him.”
“Stop growling at me! Let me go, bed rape-basilisk thing!”
“I’m a man,” he grated. “Not furniture.” He forced me down on his torso and grinded against me. Bed-rape futon monster moaned, running his tongue over his unfriendly incisors
“What are you doing?” I bawled. He thumbed tears from my eyes. His lips pursed in pleasure and eyes hooded like a snakes’.
“Waking you up.”
The rape tail choked my neck. He poked its tip in the corner of my mouth.
“Suck,” he ordered, threatening me with his fangs. On pain of death, I did. He nuzzled my neck. “Oh Havah.” He licked the tears that streamed from my eyes, finding pleasure in my Lovecraftian horror. I was being raped by Cthulu. His tail twined around my tongue, and the scales below his abs bulged. He hissed, rubbing the mound against me until I thought I would burn. Shaking, he crushed me to him, roaring as he bucked into me. He lost control of the dreaded tail, and I spat the damn thing out.
“I’m being humped by an anaconda,” I said, mortified. I clung to his shoulders, riding him against my will. He buried his face in my breasts. “You, good sir, are a freak. Freak of nature, that is.”
“Please shut up,” he rasped. His tail arched above me and cracked down on my hips like a whip.
I screamed as it struck me and hammered down on him from the whiplash.
“You asshole!” I cried out, incredulous.
He purred. “I enjoy that.” He lashed me again, groaning. The mound kissed my lower lips and throbbed. “Your assets, I mean.” He clawed at my hips, pounding against them until his skin was slick with me. He thrust me back into the curve of his coils, running the mound over my breast. My heart throbbed with it, and a monstrously loud pulsing burst through the room. His basilisk tail arched my back into a C. I cried out, clinging to him.
“Samael?” I whispered.
A wet sucking sound came from his chest, like an old wound had reopened. He cried out as his empty heart rotted. Thick blood wept down his torso, into my hair. He wet his fingers with it and thrust them into my mouth. I swallowed, senseless. Zuhama, the gall of death. Fires incinerated my veins. I wavered on the edge of consciousness, the drumbeat of his heart pounding through my head like gunfire.
He moaned. He thrust me onto my knees so I straddled him, facing away. He arched over my back and grinded me into his scales. I cried out, overwhelmed, and dug my fingers into the ridges of his underbelly. I was sandwiched between his chest and tail, breasts crushed against his scales. His fangs flashed in the moonlight.
“You’re the dragon,” I gasped, somewhere beyond horrified. The mound ran down my spine to dip between my hips.
“Observant, Watson” he sighed, pausing to kiss me below. I yelped.
“Not okay! This is not natural!- oh my god that god damn tongue…” He curved like a conveyor belt around me, running the bulge up to my lips.
“Please,” he begged for the same.
He ignored me and did so anyways. It was like 69ing a hydra. Clearly into it, he wrapped his tail around my neck in a choke-hold, rubbing against my cheek. He groaned below as I wept, demonic tongue spearing into me.
“This is so wrong.”
“For the love of filth, shut up.”
Glaring at him, I licked it. He screamed.
“Too much, maggot!” he roared. He shoved me down and arched over me, grinding it into my core. He crushed me like a python , his touch brutal and unforgiving. He forced my head down so I couldn’t speak, then used his tail for deviant purposes. He laughed at my muffled shrieks.
“Blood for blood,” he whispered. I felt his back press into me. His fangs sunk into my neck. He groaned as the blood welled up. I bit down on him in pain. The heartbeat from his chest was deafening. He hissed into my skin, thrusting me down so we locked. I was a butterfly on pinned wings.
Breath heavy, he wrenched my head sideways and forced his mouth on mine so that I tasted the blood. I reeled from the brutality as he thrust his tongue past my lips. The ghost of a smile touched his face.
He pulsed between my legs. My mouth parted in confusion. He closed his eyes, gasping, then let out a hollow sound. Suddenly, his skin burned, and he erupted into me. He caught the scream on my lips and thrust into me, ravenous. I shook in a hot sweat and moaned, completely overcome. He smiled as if mocking my terror, then razed my lips with his fangs.
“You’re unholy,” I whispered. “A monster.”
“An aberration,” he taunted. “But you like it, lamb, so lie back and think of Gehenna.” He flipped me over in his coils, slowing his thrusts. Each one was agonizing. He smirked at my wide-eyed amazement. It was the guilty grin of a five year-old that had busted into the cookie jar and still had crumbs on his lips.
“God damn snake anatomy,” I rasped. “I… forgot… AP Biology…”
“Expect the unexpected, maggot. Otherwise you’ll be ill-equipped- BY THE FIRES OF SHEOL, YES.” What was a burning became an inferno, his scales like hot irons. Hellish profanities tumbled from his lips like filth. He roared them and my name.
“You’re turning- red?” I gasped, incredulous. His midnight black scales flushed the color of a bloodstain. Sam’s pallid cheeks bloomed into life. He hammered into me, laughing madly. The ceaseless tide of pleasure made me cry out like an idiot. “You’re a bastard!” I inhaled. “Oh my god. Oh my god oh my god-”
“The Lord,” he growled, shoving me down on him, “has nothing to do with this.” He played me like a puppet, slamming me to meet his thrusts. The rippling coils were cords of muscle and would have given weaker men motion sickness. I felt like grain in a mill, grinded by an endless wheel. “I invented sex,” he snarled.
“Sure you did- oh my god STOP!-”
He roared like a lion. I fell absolutely still, terrified to speak. In the silence he continued, language degraded to guttural sounds. He lapped at the blood on my shoulder and started to grunt, clawing at my breasts.
“Take me, Havah. Take me.”
He swelled within me, impossibly large, and I lapsed into the Prayer of St. Michael.
Lightning struck the mansion’s roof. Samael bellowed with the thunder. He crooned like a bitch in heat, angel’s song made dirty by lust: “Hayah Havah, my Eloa.” He dragged us to the base of his coils and thrust into my core.
“Red Shana. My rose.” His grip was crippling, and he howled. His gall knifed into me, and I screamed with him. His skin flashed crimson at the height of our ecstasy, and I felt my vitality pour into his heart. His wound scarred over once more, and the bite he had given me closed shut.
“So that’s why the Devil’s red,” I said, mortified. “You’re like the butt of a monkey in heat.”
He hissed, tail coiling around my neck. “Don’t make me strangle you.”
“I’m getting raped by a basilisk.”
“Your’s is not to question, Eve.”
“So you admit that you just raped me, masquerading as a chilli-dog nightmare?”
“I admit nothing.” Though spent, he stayed inside me, pressing into me gently now. I bit my lip, on fire inside, and cried out as his poison filled me.
“Too much. It hurts.”
“Embrace the pain. It’s the only true thing, girl.”
I groaned. “You’re not the Molotov cocktail!” I blushed with fever, unable to breathe.
He sucked my lip, breathing life into me. “The tail of a what, you said?…” Within, he proved his point. He hissed. “So small,” he whispered. I clung to his chest like a straitjacket.
“Please,” I begged. “Stop, or I’ll spontaneously combust. I’m flammable, Samael.”
“You’re fine. More than fine.” He massaged my shoulders, humming. “Glorious, actually. Like Eden on my skin-”
“Stop invoking the Bible!.”
“I’m trying to stop myself from singing,” he muttered. “Angels do so when we are… aroused.” His black hair spilled across my shoulders as he pressed his face to my neck. He struggled to restrain himself so I didn’t incinerate.
“Ohhh-kay. Lovely. Now the Heavenly choirs will scar me for life.” I remembered him brooding under the moonlight that time I’d passed out drunk on his couch. He’d sung me to sleep like a dream.
“I used to sing lullabies to you, Shana. Under the moonlight. Songs I made just for you.”
“That was your favorite.”
“Only because they turn to butterflies in the end.”
A rumble rose in his chest. He sighed, embracing me. “Why do you grow more beautiful with time? I just become more wicked.”
“Well, first off, I don’t rape people.”
“I can’t help it. I have wanted to consummate this union from the first time I laid eyes on you in this life.”
“In the hearse?”
“As a skeleton?”
He was silent.
“How would that even-”
“Would you just enjoy the moment?”
“Getting boned by a basilisk? Yeah, I’ll tell you how it feels. Like an X-rated Exorcist.”
“Shall we masturbate with crosses next?”
“No! My god, your mind is a gutter.”
“Says the girl who enjoys possession.”
“No I don’t! What the hell are you talking about-”
“What do you think I’ve been doing,” he whispered, consciousness enveloping my mind. It was a bit like a tranquilizer. I zoned out in the cool black nothing like I was knocked out on pain meds.
“You’re just a vacuum…?” I whispered. “I’m fucking a black hole. How is this I don’t even-”
The darkness took me completely. I was aloft in the abyss, like Brahma in his primordial lotus. It yawned around me, drenched with my name as it filled me. I gasped, only to breathe him in, and Death hurled against my skull like the sea.
“Mind rape,” I rasped. “Oh my god.”
The darkness contorted into a robe. I was in the lap of the Reaper again. Blackness peered back at me, smirking. Terrified, I forced his hood back.
He was faceless. Black nothing. It sucked at my skin, plunging me into eternity. I saw ages in its eyes: supernovas erupted before me, in the beat of a heart we came to the edge of the world. My little lonely planet was a pipe dream, the reality I knew void.
“Existential Nietzschean mind rape?” I gagged, stomach rolling.
The black nothing pinched my ass. I gazed at it, incredulous.
“Stop grinding into me, abyss!”
I was being humped by darkness. It was horrific.
He came a final time. It was like I’d swallowed absolute zero. Which, circumstances considered, was just about right.
“I don’t have an Antichrist in the oven, right?” I cried out, bitch-slapped by a refrigerator.
I AM BARREN. thrummed the void.
“Err, right. Good. I mean- um, that must be a touchy subject- ack!”
He laughed low in his throat, suckling my breast. It was like being stabbed by an icicle. He slipped out of me, spent, and smoke rose from his tail. With heavy breaths he gained control of his form, slipping back into the guise of the basilisk king.
We stared at each other awkwardly. He cleared his throat.
“So- ahem. Um. Tea?” Samael smiled like he had a toothache.
“Legs?” I asked.
He quirked his lips. “It is… difficult. To… transform. After, well. I am sapped of strength. Nor do I have the focus.”
“Alright, Voldemort. Where are my clothes?”
He was reluctant to let me go. He sighed, hugging me. “On the bed,” he grumbled. “I could just carry you, you know. You are very… cute.”
“You don’t like that word, do you?”
He snapped his fingers and candles illuminated the room, shining from a red chandelier. Like the interior of his hearse, it was bedecked in dark woods and leather upholstery. Book shelves lined the walls. Tomes that belonged in the Library of Congress were piled on his desk next to a half-drunk shot of vodka. The bed was what I expected, four poster, excessively large and, of course, unmade. The wine-colored sheets looked like they’d been gnawed on in his sleep. Either Death was teething or a restless sleeper. My clothes were draped at its head, carved into the shape of a tree with a serpent twined around it.
“You’re not going to put me down, are you?” I said begrudgingly.
“I just want to hold you, maggot.” He snaked onto the mattress, spooning me. “For once, don’t squirm away.”
I’d been trying to do just that. “Do I really squirm that much? Like, is it noticeable?”
“Mmm,” he said, slipping his fingers inside me. He played with me lazily, tail sliding between my knees. “Now you do.”
“Cute. Real cute.”
“I am not cute,” he sneered, muffled by my hair.
“Then I’m not either! And what we just did definitely wasn’t-”
“It was beautiful. You never read the book I gave you, on relations between man and immortals. We come from alien cultures, Shana, whose reproduction is as different as that of spiders and a birds.”
“Spiders eat their mates.”
“As do some immortals. It is the circle of life. A mantis isn’t barbaric for beheading her husband. If she didn’t, there would be no mantises.” He reached deep inside me, and I squeaked. Samael laughed. “So let me have beauty with you,” he whispered, lightly kissing the back of my neck.
“Well, I’m not a basilisk,” I said, staring wide-eyed at the stained glass window. I moaned against my will, scared but not enough to make him stop. “Ooo. Oh my god-”
“I’m your god.”
“No, you’re my thorn. The kind that sticks in the side and refuses to leave- ah, no! Stay. You can stay…” He covered my mouth with his free hand, then poked his tail back in.
“Urgh,” he growled. “Why have I never thought of this before-”
I bit his fingers and he yelped. “Because it’s bestiality!” I cried. He trapped me behind his forearm, angrily grabbing my breasts.
“Not when the upper part is human.”
“Deeper,” I groaned. “Holy hell.”
“That’s more like it, lamb,” he hissed, tongue flicking over my shoulder. “Who’s your Prince of Darkness? I’m king of the lower depths-”
“Okay, Sam. That just ruined it- gyah! Too much!” He stirred within me, flexing.
“Then don’t provoke me!- Gehenna, it’s so cramped-” I throbbed around him in response to his invasion. My eyes rolled back in my head. “So tight,” he moaned, rolling over. His tail slid out and I gasped, rolling on top of him. We lay there in a messy heap, I on his chest out of breath, him almost passed out beneath me. He moaned, sliding so his face was under me.
“No!” I yelped, grasping the bed frame. He parted me with his lips and went at it again, tongue flicking in and out.
“This is my favorite place in the world,” he sighed. “All this time, I’ve waited. Waited and waited for you.” He held me fast by my hips, massaging them. I bowed onto the pillow, unable to breathe. His hands ran up my back to trace my spine.
“My Havah, my lily. You release me.” His tongue snaked from between my legs to my breasts. I watched it, horrified.
“Who’s the praying mantis again?” He sucked at me like a leech. I told him so, and he flung me off, scowling.
“I am not a leech,” he rasped, pupils consuming his eyes. He licked his lips. “I’m just hungry.” He lay there, hands crossed behind his head, deciding not to move.
I cursed, grabbing my clothes. They were soaked like they’d been tossed in snow. Something hit my hips. Samael laughed.
“Stop flogging me, you torture monkey!”
He pursed his lips: “You are no fun,” then put the pillow over his head.
I muttered darkly and slammed open his closet. A cold wind slapped my face. It was a narrow hall the stretched on into nothingness, lined with robes, suits, and leather. The left had normal clothes: Grateful Dead t-shirts, polos, jeans, but the further back I walked, I found togas, that puffy white shirt from Seinfeld, armor, everything. I shook my head, then ran back to the entrance. His Hugh Hefner-esque bathrobe hung beside it. I grabbed the burgundy fabric and attempted to make it fit.
“You’re too tall, Corpseboy. And thin.” It clung to my curves like a second skin, then dragged along the floor like a bridal train. I tripped on the granite into one of his coils. He muttered, knotting around me. The door slammed shut- apparently, it had been opened- and the far end of his tail brought in a tray with a tea set. I stole a scone and munched it darkly.
“My life is ridiculous.”
“At least you’re living, worm.”
I scowled, still jittering from the unholy hookup. The tea tray sat on his nightstand, untouched. The ghostly music from upstairs was audible through the door. A stray skeleton waltzed by. I shrieked.
“There are dead people out there!”
“They’re my guests.”
“Me or the dead people, Samael. You can’t have both.”
He chucked the pillow at me. “Women ruin everything.” His eyes flashed an angry red. He watched me struggle through the mounds of snake, delicately preparing his cup. “Next you’ll have me clip my wings.”
“I could make cool dream catchers out of them.”
“You’d be dead in the morning.”
“Fletch arrows with them?”
“As if you could shoot a bow.”
“You’re a misogynist pig- I mean snake. A misogynist snake.”
He forced a cup on me. “Calm down, maggot. Drink.” It was mint and appeared to relax him. The tell-tale blush faded from his cheeks, and he looked like Dracula again. He caressed my shoulder, lifting a scone to my lips. “Eat,” he urged me.
I took a bite; he shuddered. “It’s the chocolate, I know,” I said. “Gets me every time.”
“If I covered myself in it, would you find me more appetizing?”
“You want me to lick you?- okay, never mind. That was a dumb question.”
He put the rest of the scone in a very questionable place. I went for it carefully, but he forced my head down, snatching the scone away so my lips could replace the pastry.
“Cheese,” he pointed at the scone. “Mouse.” The tail hit me again.
I bit him in anger. “You bastard.”
His cup smattered on the ground. “No.” he roared. “Too much! NOT JUST AFTER WE HELD CONGRESS- OY HAVAH!”
I straddled him, glaring. He hissed. “Drink your tea, Corpseboy,” I said drily. His tortured expression almost drew my pity. He drank my untouched cup, porcelain trembling in his hand as he throbbed below I squeezed my hips around him and smirked.
“You are insatiable,” he grated.
“It’s just your own medicine, Bonebutt.”
He growled, rising slowly into me.
“So it’s like your on and off switch.” I mused, opening to let him fill me. I lowered myself slowly onto him, hissing in turn. He watched me with unfocused eyes, eating the scone like he had a concussion.
“Wurgh?” he said, crumbs falling from his lip.
“I guess all the aether goes from your head to here.” I flinched, cinching around him. “No wonder they call it a death bed. This thing could kill me.” I gasped, stretched to my limit. “Oh god,” I whispered, forcing myself down until I swallowed him.
He bit his claws anxiously. Black drool ran from his lips.
“I guess I’m on my own then.” I worked my way up and down his length, crying out when the pain hit. I rode it anyways. He thrusted instinctively, eyes completely dead.
I vaguely wondered why I was doing this, orgasms aside. I had nothing to give thanks for. I certainly didn’t love him, shadowed memories aside. I didn’t know about the immortality of souls: all there was was this life. Shannon Parker, college-bound and wide-eyed to the world. Maybe he would stay behind in Redmont come summer’s end, or vanish just as easily as he came.
Speaking of coming. He foamed at the mouth. I leaned down to his chest, kissing the wound old as time.
“Succubus,” he rasped. “You are a different girl when impassioned.
“How did you know? I never taught you. You tempted me, Havah, beguiled me. When the change came, I thought my manhood gone. That I was crippled, legless, subhuman. I fell into madness and couldn’t speak. I could not even stand. I dragged myself through dust, not even knowing your name.”
“All I knew was I had to find you, that you would heal me. You always do.”
His wound closed, swallowing the rib behind new skin. Tears fell from his eyes.
“I love you, Shana. I love you. More than you can know.”
When he came, he was empty, no burning or storm inside me. I laid out on his chest, breathing deeply. He knotted his hands through my hair, whispering my name. I sighed, turning so my hips were on his stomach and my head fit below his neck. He groaned, one hand snaking weakly to my breast, the other between my leg. His breaths came peacefully and his eyes closed.