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Infernal

By: Sabledrake



Chapter One –

Abigail did not quite run, knowing that if she did one of the other girls might see and wonder what was the matter. 

She did not run, but she hurried at as fast a walk as she dared, her pulse hammering and a hot flush awash on her face. 

A repulsive, slippery-warm feeling had taken up residence inside of her, making her skin tingle and her nipples tighten to painful peaks. The place between her legs, that fleshy center that no good and decent girl was supposed to even think about until she gave it over to her husband as his right on their wedding night, dominated her consciousness in a way it never had before. 

Oh, to be rid of that hideous, compelling sensation! How? Her first and overbearing urge was to rub it away, but that would be a sin every bit as bad as what she'd just witnessed. 

The door to her room was a sight of welcome sanctuary. She went through, closed it, and for the first time since she'd come to Dame Agnes of the Hills Academy for Fine Ladies, turned the thumb-lock. 

The room was not quite a cubicle, not quite spartan. The students, who came here when their regular schooling was done but before University or marriage, were limited in what luxuries they could bring from home. Headmistress Elspeth preferred them all to be on more or less equal footing and wanted them to spend their time learning, not trying to one-up each other with clothing and cosmetics and other such fripperies and nonsense. 

So it was that Abigail's room was smaller by far than her bedroom at her parents' house, and lacked many of the comforts. The bed was narrow with only a single pillow, the chest of drawers held a fraction of the wardrobe that she'd amassed over her nineteen years of life, and vanity was discouraged so she had hardly been allowed to bring more than a comb and a brush and a tin of dusting powder for her cosmetics. 

The small corner desk was littered with thick schoolbooks. The shelf above it held a few trinkets, and as her gaze fell upon the centermost one, Abigail was torn between embarrassment and hope. The eyes of the angel seemed to follow her with reproach. 

She reached up with shaking hands and stopped. Surely if she tried to pick up the little statuette now, she would drop it and the angel would shatter on the hardwood floor. That last sign of disrespect, unintentional as it might be, would surely seal her fate. 

And she was afraid to touch the angel. Afraid that her hands, tainted with the memory of what she had just seen, would blacken it and mark Abigail as unclean. 

The room had a single window, which overlooked the grounds of the Academy. Abigail went to it and opened it, seeking fresh air. Too late, she realized that she had a view of the outbuilding that had been a carriage-house but doubled now as a storage shed … a place that had been taken over as a den of incomprehensible wickedness. 

Her fingers clutched at the sill, hard, nails digging flakes of paint from the wood. The carriage-house looked peaceful and innocent enough, garbed in its green cloak of ivy. But she had seen what went on in there. She knew. She did not fully understand, but she knew.

How could Headmistress Elspeth allow it? Surely she was not ignorant. Caleb was her own brother, and when she had taken the prestigious post at Dame Agnes of the Hills, she had arranged to have the poor halfwit for whom she'd spent her adult life caring brought here and given a minor position as groundskeeper. 

Caleb. Abigail shivered and wished that she'd never gone out there. It was selfishness that had led her to the dusty attic, greed that made her prowl among the trunks and chests and wardrobes looking for furnishings that she could bring back to her room to make it a little less severe. 

What would have happened if she'd called out when she heard the door open? 

That question turned her knees to water and she sat on the edge of the bed, close to fainting. It wasn't an answer she wanted. The things he had done to Margaret, despite her pleas and cries … the way he'd taken her clothes away … and then stood there so long with his usually muddy eyes fever-bright, his only movement a slow circle of his palm on the tremendous swelling of his groin while Margaret sobbed and begged and tried futilely to cover her nudity …

But Abigail hadn't called out when she'd heard the door. She hadn't wanted anyone else to find her here, and had hidden. Thinking it was Caleb, but on some innocuous errand. Only when she'd realized that the mewling sounds weren't from one of the many cats that kept the grounds free of mice but from a human throat did she risk looking out. 

Would it have been different if she'd intervened? Would Caleb have fled upon being discovered? Would Margaret have been spared? Or would the giant, whose strong body was every bit as fleet and agile as his mind was not, seized Abigail and done the same to her beside her friend? Would he have taken her clothes away, and looked on her with that same expression?

Shock and fear had frozen her, as helpless as was poor Margaret. Abigail had been unable to tear her eyes away as Caleb put his rough, work-hardened hands all over Margaret's smooth skin. Most horrifying of all was the way something within her responded. 

As Caleb kneaded Margaret's breasts and flicked his thumbs over the nipples, Abigail imagined she could feel it herself. And when he'd fallen upon her like a slavering dog, shoving his face into the chestnut-furred juncture of Margaret's thighs, fingers clamped into the mounds of her buttocks and lifting her hips to give his lapping tongue better access, Abigail could feel a phantom tongue, all slick warm pressure, probing her own nether regions. 

She hated herself for it, for what she was feeling and that she could sit here and do nothing to help her poor dear friend. Except that Margaret stopped seeming in desire of help after a while. Indeed, after a while her sobs had turned to moans, and she was rolling her body and urging Caleb on. When he had risen from her, his chin glistening with his saliva and the juices of her body, Margaret had not expressed relief but frustration. 

"Don't stop," she had begged the halfwit, splaying her legs wide. "Don't stop, please, not just yet!"

When Caleb, a grin entirely different from his usual look of oafish geniality giving him an aspect both sinister and clever, undid his belt and shoved his homespun trousers to his ankles, Margaret had not screamed but made a low and hungry cry. Her gaze was fixed on the spear of flesh jutting from a springy mat of dark hair at Caleb's groin. 

Abigail's was as well, for she had only ever seen such things before in fleeting glimpses of pictures the other girls sometimes passed around, pictures that she had done her best to refrain from looking at. She'd never dreamed the truth would be so … so real. So veiny and knobbed and large, with a head the shape and color of a plum partly concealed by a flap of skin. 

Caleb gripped this tool and worked his hand up and down its length, still grinning that malicious grin at Margaret. Abigail knew what he intended to do with it. She was not entirely ignorant of the ways of men and women, and knew what her husband would expect her to endure. Yet here was Margaret, seemingly eager for what Abigail's mother had explained was a woman's painful and humiliating duty. 

"The man's pleasure is in the act," Jane Creighton had explained to her shortly before Abigail left home for Dame Agnes of the Hills. "The woman's joy comes when she fulfills her purpose and holds her newborn babe in her arms."

Her mother had mentioned nothing of the sensations that held Abigail captive. She had gone on to impress upon her daughter the importance of virginity, and how no good husband would be pleased to travel a road that others had been down. Surely Margaret's mother must have given her the same counsel, for most of the girls at Dame Agnes of the Hills reported similar lectures and Headmistress Elspeth herself had reaffirmed it. 

Margaret, therefore, should have been appalled at the threat to her maidenhead. She should not have been uttering the lewd words that spilled from her lips – "Yes, bring that lovely cock up here and fuck me full of it!"

The coarse language slapped Abigail's very soul. Caleb only seemed more inflamed, and knelt down beside Margaret's head. His fist closed in her hair but it hadn't needed to, for Margaret turned her face eagerly and opened her mouth to accept as much of his organ as she could without choking. Caleb groaned and pawed her breasts with his other hand. 

At last, Margaret pulled free and gasped out another plea. "Fuck me with it, damn you, stuff my cunny full of it!"

Abigail had watched, still frozen and aghast and still with surges of evil longing pulsing in her tenderest flesh. She caught herself envying Margaret's wicked abandon as Caleb lowered his body onto hers and placed the tip of his shaft where she was exhorting him to bury it. 

But he hadn't, not right away. He had lingered there, playing the tip up and down until Margaret was quivering and panting and pushing her hips up in what looked to be desperate attempts to engulf him by her own volition. Rather than slap at him or try to get away, she grasped the sides of his thick waist and pulled him atop her. 

Caleb's backside gave a mighty flex as he thrust deep, and Margaret's scream was both pain and delight. Her maidenhead was gone, ripped away, and the road her husband would want to be the first to travel was being well-rutted, but all of that was the furthest thing in the world from Margaret's mind if her reaction was to be trusted. She held tight to Caleb's buttocks and raised her hips to meet each downward stroke, their flesh slapping together in a hard, fast rhythm. 

At the end of it, just before Caleb shuddered and collapsed heavily onto her, Margaret voiced a wavering cry that transcended anything Abigail had ever heard. She then fainted dead away. 

Abigail had become aware then that her traitor hand was pushing awkwardly at the front of her skirt, that she was shifting her legs and causing the cloth of her undergarments to rub enticingly. She was also breathing much too quickly, much too loudly. 

Below, on the floor of the carriage-house, Caleb rose from Margaret's unconscious body. As he withdrew from her, Abigail saw the blood and other fluids streaking his softening member, saw more of it staining Margaret's thighs. 

She had remained where she was, hardly daring to breathe although the resultant dizziness made her fear that she would faint too. Caleb moved about, gathering his clothes, wiping himself clean with a handkerchief that he stuck indifferently into his pocket. He left Margaret sprawled where she was, whistling a tune as he returned to his duties.

Abigail thought about going to Margaret and rousing her, seeing if she was all right. But surely Margaret would be horrified to know that her ruination had been observed. 

So, like a coward, Abigail slipped from the carriage-house and fled through the gardens. She slowed her pace when she came near the school, and paused to smooth her hair and try to pat the blush from her face. 

Luckily, no one had remarked on her as she made her way to her room. She had hoped that she would be able to settle her nerves once she was safely back amid familiar surroundings, but the scene would not leave her mind. Her body ached with some unwelcome and unfulfilled need. 

She went to the wash-basin and dashed cold water onto her flushed face. The feelings coursing through her finally ebbed, and in their absence she was left with a bereft and mildly nauseous condition instead. She felt dirtied, but no longer blackly excited. 

The angel on her shelf had regarded her evenly throughout her reminiscence. Abigail blushed again, but it wasn't as if the statuette could read her thoughts, was it? 

Or was it? After all, if she was to believe in guardian angels that could hear her prayers, she had to believe they would know everything there was to know, whether she confessed it or not. 

Her hands had stopped shaking. She took down the angel, and the coolness of it served as a balm to her nerves. She ran her fingertips over the ridges of its feathers, kissed the haloed top of its head.

"Deliver me from this," she murmured. "Please, help me."

**

Chapter Two –

The gates of Hell opened before Celestina with a ghastly squeal. 

Smoke wafted out, stirring the gossamer of her gown and blowing the silken white-blond strands of her hair back from her temples. She smelled brimstone on that smoke, and blood, and suffering. 

Her wings flared out, white feathers shining in the gloom, then tucked close against the slenderness of her frame in a gesture both defensive and regal. 

The wind carried more than just the scents of damnation. It carried the sounds as well. The whip-cracks, the crackle of flames, the anguished screams of the tormented, and the malevolent laughter of the devils. This last, the laughter like black and evil water, eddied around Celestina and touched her with the first cold brush of fear.

Yet she was resolute. She had business here, had every right to be here as a representative of the heavenly powers. The matter of the corruption could not go unanswered. 

Just thinking of it made Celestina quail in disgust. That such a thing had happened, had been allowed to happen … that the headmistress of a girl's school so ardently devout that it was very nearly a convent should sink into such depravity … 

Celestina's mind shied away from the entire subject. She could not even bring herself to think of it, of the lewd and hideous deeds that had taken place behind those high, ivied walls. 

What mattered was that it had been done deliberately, and with malice. Someone had stepped beyond the bounds. Someone would have to pay. 

She stepped delicately through the gates, their metal bars bent and askew in torturous shapes that hurt the sanity, their substance glowing dull orange. The path was cobbled in skulls held in place by the obsidian flow of lava, cooled but still harboring enough heat to warm the soles of Celestina's feet through the thin layers of her gilded sandals. She grimaced as she entered the fetid bath of Hell's hot and nastily humid atmosphere.

Ahead of her stretched a vast and featureless plain broken only by the road of skulls. The sky overhead was turbulent and terrible, blood-red and roiling with sulfur-yellow clouds, shot now and again with jagged ebony bolts of lightning. The contorted faces of sinners appeared and faded and reappeared in the churning clouds and their cries echoed dismally on the constant, scalding wind. 

But the worst thing of all, to Celestina's way of thinking, was how the clouds occasionally parted, how the skies occasionally cleared, and through those rents in the red and the yellow could be seen the serene blue, the soft white, and the golden glow of Heaven. Bad enough that the damned should endure their eternity of misery, but to be afforded glimpses of the paradise they had missed … that was the cruelest blow of all. 

As she moved along the path, trying not to step on the skulls and finding it an impossible task, she began to see the contours of the land. The plain was not featureless after all, but so vast that the hills and dips and sharp slashes of canyons blurred into invisibility. Here and there, the twisted boles of trees stuck up from gritty grey soil. Dried vines clawed at the earth like long, thin fingers. Her wide, guileless eyes surveyed the landscape with both pity and horror. 

The path looked as though it went on forever, but appearances were deceiving here and before long she had reached something new. A cliff wall, towering so high that the top of it raked with spires of stone at the clouds, tattered them, slashed the sky itself into ragged wounds. 

A cavern mouth gaped at the base of the cliff, fanged with rock formations and lit from within by a baleful hellish light. The wind came from here, a steady toxic exhalation, and the screams of the damned were louder, nearer, more agonized than ever. 

Celestina could only see in a short ways before vision was lost in a fuming fiery mess. Shapes moved and danced in it just beyond the limits of sight. Shadows. Writhing and leaping forms. 

This was the place where fools rushed in and angels feared to tread. Feared or not, though, it was where Celestina knew she must go. 

Taking a deep breath – not because she needed to but because some habits of mankind had translated themselves to the seraphim over the millennia – she crossed the threshold and into the mouth of the cave. 

She was on a walkway made of stone that was at once rough and slick, and narrow. To her left, the world dropped away into a fathomless pit. Malformed things clung to the sides of it, bubbling with pestilent sores, keening piteously for release. Demons flew disdainfully around them with bat-wings beating at the air and barbed tails lashing.

To her right, a sea of excremental mud slopped and boiled. The stench was tremendous, and the damned dotted it like islands, wailing and bemoaning. 

Her kind heart went out to them and she reined it in. They had brought this on themselves. That was what she had to remember. In life, they had done the deeds that deserved them this fate, this everlasting punishment. God's forgiveness only went to those who earned it through penitence and atonement. 

Celestina continued, sparing a glance back to see the cave opening receding into the distance. The cavern soared above her to dizzying heights. Ledges were positively acrawl with imps, who cackled and chortled and jabbed their tiny poisoned pitchforks at a steady line of shuffling souls as they made their way along a switchback road constructed of human bodies. At the top of the road was a judge's desk, hundreds of feet tall, where a scarlet-eyed devil ordered the final disposition of each new arrival. His voice boomed and roared in indistinguishable echoes. The dead souls begged for mercy, but there was no mercy here. 

Headmistress Elspeth would share that fate if Celestina could not intervene on her behalf. The same punishment would be visited upon each of the girls who had participated in the unholy deeds, even those who had been coerced against their will. 

Unbidden and certainly unwelcome, the scenes swarmed over her. How had it begun? Was Elspeth the weak one, the one who had welcomed the devil into herself? Or was it Caleb? Half-witted and hulking, he had been gentle despite his size and strength. Gentle, with all the intellect of a small child. He knew right from wrong … he would have known better than to allow himself to be taken over. 

Or perhaps it had been one of the girls. Some of them came to the school already wiser than their years, some sly and none too innocent of the vile ways of men and women. Celestina knew of what went on in the bedrooms when the lights were doused. 

Girls sharing beds, cuddling together, embracing and giggling in companionable fun but sometimes slipping into sin. Their clever soft hands caressing each other, whispering of what their suitors or cousins or even fathers had taught them of such things. Kissing, fondling, raising their nightgowns to compare the hairiness of their mounds or the plumpness of their breasts. Some might even go so far as to play lascivious games with the blunt wax ends of candles, tearing away their maidenhood rather than preserve it for their husbands as was right and proper. 

Yes, all of that had gone on and been largely overlooked, a blind or even indulgent eye turned to it. Only when Elspeth brought Caleb into her chamber had it begun to turn dark and foul. Only when she – his own elder sister! – had made the halfwit take down his trousers … grasped the thick length of him and rubbed him until he was stiff with an arousal that he should not have been able to understand … lain back and introduced Caleb into herself. 


Infernal Desire



Those of you who have read my other work may recognise one of the characters in the following story. I hope to continue this one soon.

Thanks to S-Des for his careful editing despite his horrifically busy schedule!! Any mistakes that remain are undoubtably mine. 

* * *

Luisa lay back on the sun-lounger beside the pool. Her caramel skin gleamed with tanning oil and her brown eyes were closed against the glare of the sun. It was silent, but for the faint hum of insects and the pool filter. This high up the hill there was very little traffic. Since they had no close neighbours, Luisa frequently took the opportunity to sunbathe naked.

She knew her nudity drove her brother's girlfriend to distraction, but she didn't care what Carmen thought. As far as she was concerned, Carmen was simply jealous of Luisa's young and firm body. At thirty-two, the older woman was positively ancient in Luisa's jaded eyes. 

The sound of footsteps alerted her to another person's presence. She half opened one eye and saw the pool boy, Sandro. He blushed effusively when he saw that Luisa was lying brazenly nude, her thighs parted to ensure an even tan.

It amused Luisa to see the boy's embarrassment. He was not much younger than her - about eighteen – but was rather shy despite his darkly handsome features. It was something Luisa found very appealing. She was used to men making clumsy passes at her; it had been that way her whole adult life. She preferred a challenge and Sandro was just that, a tempting challenge.

Luisa had had her eye on him from the first day Franco had employed him to maintain the pool and do some grounds work. At first she had played it cool with a smile and a wink here and there. Poor Sandro had blushed every time she caught his eye. 

She knew he wanted her though. She had noticed him staring at her bikini clad body when he thought she wasn't looking. As the weeks had gone by she had dressed and acted more and more provocatively. Today was the culmination of this subtle game playing and she felt confident that Sandro would soon be powerless to resist her advances.

"Is everything okay, Sandro?" she asked innocently, propping herself up on one arm. 

"Err...yes Miss Luisa," he stammered, barely able to look her in the eye, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

Luisa struggled to hide a grin. She could see the bulging erection he was trying to camouflage and deliberately reached over for the bottle of sun oil. Still smiling at him casually, she squirted some on her breasts and proceeded to rub the oil into her tanned skin, sensuously.

Sandro watched, mesmerised as Luisa's hands glided over her large golden breasts. His eyes darkened in lustful appreciation as she rubbed and kneaded the firm flesh, paying particular attention to her long rosy nipples. She could feel the moisture oozing from her aroused sex and wondered if he had noticed yet. 

"I don't want to burn in the sun," she explained belatedly. Not that Sandro was listening; his eyes were locked firmly on the delicious orbs of flesh before his hungry eyes. 

"Do you think you could do my back?" Luisa said, holding out the bottle invitingly. 

Hesitation and confusion fluttered across Sandro's handsome face. He clearly felt it wasn't his place to be touching Luisa's body in such an intimate way but, on the other hand, he desperately wanted to. Taking a small step forward, his cheeks still fiery pink, he grasped the bottle and poured some warm oil onto his palms. 

Luisa moved turned away from him. The sun-lounger shifted as he knelt behind her and she waited expectantly for him to touch her hot skin. 

For a long moment Sandro paused, breathing in the heady scent of coconut oil. His palms itched with anticipation as he gazed upon the golden brown flesh of the girl he had lusted over for weeks. She was utterly perfect. 

Tentatively he placed his hands on her smooth shoulders and rubbed the oil into her skin. His fingers glided over her flesh and he heard a small sigh of pleasure escape her lips.

"Mmm that feels wonderful," she breathed huskily. She could hardly believe that he had fallen into her web so easily. Sandro's hands rubbed down her back and edged along her rib cage, brushing the sides of her breasts. Her sex quivered in anticipation and she leaned back slightly, trying to encourage him to take the next step.

Instead he moved away and stood up. "There," he said hurriedly. "All done." 

Luisa was stunned. Her patience was rapidly running out, the frustration in her body boiling hotter than the midday sun. Struggling to control her desire, she turned round slowly and leant forward on the sun bed, her heavy breasts swaying slightly.

Sandro felt his gaze pulled towards her tits. His cock strained against his shorts and embarrassment fought with desire. He sensed that Luisa was trying to seduce him, but the fact she was Franco's sister was still too intimidating. He felt a certain degree of loyalty to his boss and fucking the boss's daughter was a blatant violation of trust. Unfortunately his libido was beginning to blur the boundaries between right and wrong. He licked his lips, mesmerised. Raspberry nipples hardened before his very eyes, begging him to suck them. 

Almost without realising it, he took a step nearer. 

Luisa sensed his wavering and stood slowly. "Do you like my body?" she asked in a low, hypnotic voice. 

Sandro nodded helplessly. What was there not to like? She was every fantasy he had ever envisioned, all rolled into one delectable package.

"Do you want me?" she whispered softly.

She was so close he could feel her breath tickling his lips. "Yes..." The word came out as a strangled moan and Sandro knew instantly he was lost. He had to have her; his body demanded it. 

One trembling hand reached up and cupped the swell of her breast hesitantly. Luisa sucked in a sharp breath and pushed against him firmly. His other hand touched its aching twin and he gently fondled her soft flesh, exploring and playing, enjoying the unfamiliar feel of her body.

"Oh, baby, that's good..." Luisa threw her head back and closed her eyes languorously. His touch, whilst inexperienced, was deeply pleasurable and she felt her desire growing ever stronger. 

With a moan, Sandro kissed her desperately. His doubts and fears were eclipsed in a blinding rush of passion. Nothing else mattered now; he was powerless to stop this dangerous course of action.

Consequences be damned!

Her lips tasted sweet; an addictive cocktail of flavours that sent his senses reeling. Just the teasing sensation of her lush body pressed against his hard cock was almost enough to make him cum right there, on the spot. He was not a virgin, but neither was he very experienced with women. The sum total of his sexual history was a short lived fling with a friend of his elder sister, and a foreign girl the previous summer. He was much too shy to approach girls comfortably, the way his friends did. 

Luisa was the embodiment of all his adolescent fantasies. Now he held her heavy breasts in his hands while his tongue plundered her mouth. He was in heaven.

She stepped backwards and before he realised what she was doing, his shorts were unbuttoned and in a pile at his feet. His hard cock stood out, thick and engorged with blood, the tip glistening in the sunlight. 

"Yummy!" Luisa muttered grinning happily. It had been more than a week since she'd had any cock and she was hungry for it now! She dropped to her knees, not caring about the rough stone scraping her skin. With a sly smile, she took hold of Sandro's shaft, running her wet tongue across the sensitive glans.

"Oh God, Luisa!" he moaned in anguish. She opened her mouth and slowly enveloped the head of his penis between velvety lips, worshiping him with her tongue. Small droplets of pre-cum leaked out and she slurped them eagerly. Experience told her that he was not going to last long, but she figured his powers of recovery would mean she could fuck him the second time around.

At the moment, all she wanted to do was make him cum. The thought of swallowing all that creamy spunk was a huge turn on and she briefly closed her eyes as a shiver ran through her body in a delicious wave.

Sandro could barely breathe, let alone think straight. His shorts were somewhere around his ankles and he was pinned to the spot, helplessly. The feel of Luisa's hot, wet mouth around his throbbing cock was sublime. She was doing things that were so good, he couldn't believe they were legal. He wished the moment could last forever, but knew that a conclusion was inevitable. His balls tightened in anticipation of his orgasm and he gritted his teeth, trying to focus on something that would distract him.

It was impossible. He looked down and watched Luisa slowly take his length between her pink, glossy lips. Her seductive brown eyes gauged his reaction closely and he saw her free hand delving between her thighs. The idea that she was playing with herself as she sucked him off pushed him over the edge.

"Oh God, Luisa!" he groaned. "I can't hold it!"

"Cum for me, baby," she crooned softly when his cock slipped from her mouth. His shaft throbbed excitedly in her hand and she quickly wrapped her lips back around the head.

With a tortured moan, Sandro helplessly obeyed her and climaxed, hot cum firing out of his pulsating cock in long bursts. Luisa gobbled most of it down greedily, frantically rubbing her slick clit as she swallowed. She pulled away as a sweet orgasm rippled through her sex and the last of his spunk trickled down her breasts, leaving a milky trail across her golden skin.

Sandro's legs wobbled as he struggled to recover his senses. He could see traces of his essence splattered across Luisa's delicious breasts and almost immediately his cock began to regain some hardness. 

"Fuck me now," Luisa whispered huskily as she rubbed his cream across her nipples lasciviously. Although she had cum, she still wanted to feel his cock inside her; she needed him to fuck her raw.

"Luisa." Sandro hesitated. "I think maybe I should..." he tried to say, but Luisa was having none of it. 

She fell back on the sun bed and spread her legs wide, showing Sandro every delicious inch of her aroused pussy. "See baby, see how horny you've made me? I'm all hot and wet for you!" She dipped a finger inside her dripping hole and showed him just how ready she was.

"Oh fuck!" Sandro dropped down between her thighs and took a hard nipple in his mouth. His cock nudged the folds of her sex and she immediately wrapped her legs around his waist. 

"Yes, fuck me, now!" Luisa arched her back and tried to draw him inside her. Another orgasm was but a heartbeat away and she could feel the first spasms of pleasure fluttering deep inside her. 

Sandro pushed into her with a groan, closing his eyes at the feel of her hot velvety walls clutching tightly around his shaft. He was utterly oblivious to the sun beating down on his back; all he could think about was Luisa's body beneath his. 

She grabbed his ass and pulled him closer. "Yes!" she cried, clawing at his back while he pounded into her. "Harder!" 

Sandro thrust harder and faster, reaching up to knead her breast. He knew he was going to cum again soon, but gamely tried to last as long as possible. Sweat poured off him and heat scorched his skin like fire. "This had to be the best afternoon of his life," he thought deliriously.

Luisa screamed loudly as she came. Her body clamped Sandro's cock in a vice-like grip, rippling with the spasms of pleasure that shot through her. She was dimly aware of him grunting into her neck as she dug her nails in sharply. He thrust hard one final time, and then she felt his cum bursting inside her body, filling her with a slow sultry heat.

He collapsed on top of her, exhausted and unable to speak. One hand rested on her breast. Luisa reached up to stroke his chest and smiled at him languorously. He had been better than her wildest expectations. "Maybe there is room for more fun with this one," she thought. 

"LUISA!" A familiar voice echoed across the patio and Luisa jumped sharply. 

"Shit! It's my brother!"

Sandro heard her words, but for a long moment the implications didn't sink in. With a jolt he suddenly realised just how compromising his position currently was and dived off Luisa. His shorts were still around his ankles and he nearly toppled head first into the pool. 

"Get out of here!" Luisa hissed at him frantically, the blissful peace of her afternoon shattered.

Sandro hurriedly pulled up his shorts and dashed across the patio, heading towards the thick bushes near the perimeter wall. He was only just in time as Franco appeared from the house.

"For fucks sake, get some clothes on, Luisa!" he muttered crossly. The sight of his baby sister lying naked on a sun-lounger was not really what he wanted to see.

Luisa ignored him and stood up, aware that Sandro's spunk was beginning to slide down her thighs. She wondered if Franco would notice and experienced a sharp spasm of renewed pleasure at the thought. She loved being bad; it turned her on even more.

Flashing a slow smile at him, she dived into the cool water and swam submerged to the far end of the pool. When she resurfaced again, Franco was stood glaring at her. "I'm going to the airport to collect Carmen. We'll be home about eight, so be on your best behaviour!"

"Yes, Franco," Luisa said sweetly as she lifted herself over the side of the tiled edge. Water dripped off her brown breasts and she could see Franco trying not to stare. His obvious discomfort amused her and idly, she wondered just how far she could push the boundaries of his tolerance. 

He spun sharply on his heel, stalking back into the house while Luisa watched him, smiling happily. Winding up her brother was always free entertainment. When her thoughts drifted towards the impending return of Carmen, her smile soon vanished. God, living with that bitch was no fun at all. With a muttered string of vile expletives, she dropped down into the cool water and swam back to the far end of the pool.

Now that Franco had left for the airport, she could enjoy some more fun with Sandro. Her afternoon suddenly brightened all over again.



Infernal domain



Kim and her family, Robert 19 and Jessica 18, lived in a small home just outside of town. The house was surrounded by a thick forest and a small hill. One day when Kim was out hiking, she came across a cave and went inside. The cave was like most caves, smelly, dirty and crawling with all types of insects. She ventured further back into the cave and made out some odd shapes laying in the darkness. Kim didn't bring a flashlight so it was hard for her to see but she could just make out a long wooden box atop a stone altar of some sorts. Kim having lived in the small town all her life only assumed it was abandon equipment from a failed mining operation. She turned and headed for home.

The walk home was pleasant, the fall air was crisp and the sun was just setting. Everything was a shade of orange and yellow. She took a deep breath and thought of Halloween, which was a week away and wondered if she would have any trick or treaters this year.

She arrived back at her home and took off her shoes before entering. She stepped inside and saw her daughter setting the table. Jessica was dressed in pajama pants and a white t-shirt, she turned and saw her mother and said

"Dinner should be ready in 15mins."

Kim smiled and replied

"Just enough time for a shower."

Kim went upstairs and passed by her son's room. She knocked on the door and said that dinner would be ready in 10mins. She got a mumbled reply from Robert and went into her room.

As Kim closed the door behind her she took off her sweet shirt, pants and socks leaving her clad only in matching pink and black bra and panties. She picked up her clothes and put them into her dirty clothes hamper. She decided to take off her panties and bra and put them into the hamper as well, then turned and walked into her bathroom. She opened her shower curtain and stepped inside, turning on the water she waited until it was "just right" before she closed her eyes and wet her hair. As soon as her eyes had closed she felt uneasy, like she was being watched. She opened her eyes and looked around, nothing was out of the ordinary so she picked up the shampoo bottle and started to wash her hair. She closed her eyes again and moved her hands thru her hair; she then turned around and leaned back into the jets of water so the shampoo wouldn't get in her eyes. The image of a man sanding in the shower, inches away from her flashed in her mind. Kim struggled to clear away the soap and water from her face so she could open her eyes but in her panic she fumbled around until finally she opened her eyes and saw nothing. Turning off the shower she heard a noise outside her room. She picked up a towel and walked to the bathroom door. She opened it and saw nothing, everything was just has she left it, save the hamper, the black and pink panties were missing...

________________________________________________________________________

Rachel climb out of Robert's bed and walked over to the door. She opened it just a little and watched as Kim opened the door to her room and closed it behind her. 

"So I did what you wanted now you have to do what I want." she said as she closed the door and turned to face Robert still laying in bed.

"Fine by me" he said as the looked at her naked body. Long black hair was pulled back into a pony tail and her C-cup breasts with hard nipple slowly rose and fell in time with her breathing.

"Good stay right here" She then turned and opened the door and walked out into the hallway. She moved to Kim's door and waited until she heard the shower running. Opening Kim's door she slipped inside and went to the hamper. Picking up the black and pink panties she slid them on and walked to the door. She stopped and looked at herself in the mirror happy that the panties fit perfectly. She jumped when the shower turned off and ran to the door, slipping back out into the hall way she closed the door and ran to Robert's room. As she walked in Robert gave her a funny look.

"Now where did you get those?" Robert asked.

Without a word Rachel walked over to his bed and got in, she lowered her hand to his cock. Gripping it softly she slowly moved it up and down while looking into his eyes. Robert moved his hands up between her legs and traced the outline of her pussy, feeling the lace and fabric. When his cock was hard enough Rachel pushed his arm back and put her left leg over his waist and settled down- moving his cock so it pointed at his belly, she began to dry hump him.

"Do you like my panties?" she whispered into his ear.

"Very much indeed so, but where did you get them?" Robert asked-

"I just found them lying around" she breathed as her pace quickened. She knew that soon Robert would tire of for-play and try to slip inside her. Moments passed and Robert's hand moved to the small of her back and then down collecting her panties and pulling them to the side. As his cock slipped into Rachel's wet pussy they both let out a little moan and pushed into each other- trying desperately to feel closer and warmer. 

"I found these panties in your mom's hamper, she was just wearing them" Rachel said as she resumed her movement against Robert's cock.

"What?" he asked, not sure of that he heard. Rachel stopped and held his face so his eyes looked directly into hers.

"I went into your mothers room and stole her panties, because I wanted to see if you'd stop fucking me if you found out." She said. Robert let go of the panties he'd collected and moved his hand up to her shoulder, pulling down he thrust his hips upward. He did it again and again and again.

"You like fucking me while I wear her panties? Do you want to fuck me in her bed? Do you want me to wear all her clothes? Would you still fuck me? Are you that sick?" she asked digging her nails into his back and pulling them across to leave red marks in their wake.

"YES!" he hissed. I don't care, so long as I get what I want, when I want it, I don't care. He lowered his teeth onto her should and closed his mouth. A moan escaped Rachel's mouth as he repeated the act, moving up her shoulder until he got to her neck. He then moved his mouth up to her ear and said.

"You are just as sick as me for wearing those" he said

"I just hope I can get them into her clean cloths with your cum and my juice on them, so she can walk around all day in them. Can you image them pressed up against her pussy, her clean pussy touching such dirty panties?" Rachel replied. That was too much for Robert and he withdrew his cock from her pussy and came on her bald mound. Rachel then took off the panties and pushed them deep into her cunt. Letting her juices soak into them, after that she scooped up Robert's cum and hide the panties under his bed. 

"Come on, we don't want to miss dinner" Robert said, as he got dressed behind her. Rachel stood up and collected her cloths and smiled at Robert.

"I love you" she said.

________________________________________________________________________

About half a mile away from Kim's house the opening to a cave darkened as the sun went below the horizon. The lid of a 6 x 3 wooden box opened and a man sprang out to land beside the altar that the coffin sat upon. He gazed around the cave for a moment thinking to himself that the wooden door he'd place on the mouth of the cave must have rotted away. He sighed to himself, every few centuries he would waken to find his layer in complete shambles. He would have to set his workers about to fix the door and start digging into the hill again.

"Wake up, time to work" he said to the altar. Small blue lights glowed and lids to four compartments opened. Four small creatures emerged from their sleep and looked around the cave with the same frustration their master had, every time the same thing. Dig the lair out, set up shop, have some fun and go back to sleep. Two of the creatures walked deeper into the cave and started digging out a tunnel that would take them far back into the cave. While the other two stayed up front and cleaned up the coffin and altar. 

"Well I can see I'll only be in the way here, so I'll go for a little walk" said the master and off into the night he walked.

________________________________________________________________________

Fluffy the family house cat loved going outside, it was the best thing in the world. He would chase after all kinds of things; mice, birds, his tail. Tonight was special; tonight he was going out to the cave where he would be sure to find some entertainment. He was almost there when a voice said "good evening". Fluffy couldn't believe a two legger had snuck up on him. The two leggers eyes glowed and fluffy couldn't help but walk over and say hello. Most of the time when someone picks him up he gets annoyed but this time, however, he wasn't. This two legger was nice. Fluffy didn't even notice the slight pain when two fangs sank into his neck and drained away all his blood.

________________________________________________________________________

Well that tasted awful thought the master. He threw the cat down and continued his walk. He sniffed the night air and followed his noise to a small house about a half a mile away form his cave.

"Hello neighbors" he said. 

________________________________________________________________________

Jessica couldn't sleep. She walked downstairs to get something to drink and maybe watch some TV. She got out of her bed and put on her robe. She thought about putting on some pajama pants but there were blankets downstairs if she got cold. She opened her door and walked down the hallway to the stairs. She descended the stairs into the living room and turned to go get some water. She picked up a glass from the counter and stood over the sink. She looked outside and saw Fluffy sitting on a chair looking back at her. 

"Meow" said Fluffy

"Ok, give me a second" she said. When her glass was full she walked over to the door and opened it, the night air was cold and she regretted not having on pants. Fluffy walked over to the door but stopped and looked at Jessica.

"What are you doing?" she asked the cat.

"Meow" was his only answer. She looked at the cat for a moment and saw he wasn't coming in the house. She though about closing the door but then said.

"You can come in" and with that Fluffy walked into the house.

"You are a silly cat; do you want to come watch TV with me?" Jessica said. Fluffy followed her into the living room and jumped up on the couch. Jessica sat down and turned on the TV. Fluffy walked onto her lap and sat down, facing Jessica. Jessica placed her glass on the table next to her and looked down at the cat. 

"You have such pretty eyes" she said and noticed how odd it seemed that they would start glowing...

________________________________________________________________________

Robert awoke the next morning and went downstairs. He noticed the TV was still on and that his sister was sleeping nude on the couch. He became aroused almost immediately. Her blonde hair was pulled off to the side and her small breast moved up and down in time with her breathing. Her small mound was bare, save for a small strip of golden hair running down the middle to her pussy. Robert looked around and didn't see her panties or a shirt, not even a robe. He wondered what had brought her down here in the middle of the night in such a state but soon lost interest as his hand closed over his penis. He slowly jerked himself off through his boxers while looking at her. He soon realized that if he was going to do this he would need to be fast. There was no telling when she might wake up or when his mother would. He took out his cock and started pumping faster and faster. Always looking her at body, imaging her little lips wrapped around his cock, her head slowly falling back and forth while her tongue moved around in circles on his cock head. He moved his hand down to her pussy and gasp at how cold she felt. He slid a finger into her pussy and slowly moved it back and forth. It didn't take long before she was warm and wet and cooing in her sleep. As Robert began to climax he looked at the stair cased and locked eyes with his mother. Kim was looking at him with a blank expression. She turned and went into her room as Robert's cum landed on Jessica's breast and face. Jessica's lips opened and her tongue came out to lick away whatever it was that fell on her. Robert turned and went up the stairs. Jessica awoke to his leaving in time to see him going up the stairs. Looking down at her body she ran a figure over her pussy. 

________________________________________________________________________

Kim walked into her room and shut the door; she had no idea that her son was capable of such a thing. When he moved his hand down to her daughter's pussy Kim almost said something, but she couldn't. She wanted to look away but she couldn't. Her hand moved down slowly to the part where her robes met. She slid her hand inside and stated to rub her belly. Just as her hand was about to slide down into her panties Robert walked into her room and looked right at her. Kim walked to her bed and sat down. She closed her eyes and saw, in her mind, Robert again, holding his cock over his sister, probing her small pussy with his finger as she laid their moaning and cooing. Kim placed her hand on her pussy and push a finger deep inside, she shuddered. It had been such a long time since she felt aroused and now she couldn't help herself. Over and over she slid her finger into her cunt, stopping only to add and other finger. She opened her robe and held her breast with her other hand. She squeezed hard and pulled on her nipple. Moving her hand to the other breast she did the same thing.

Robert just stood there watching his mother. He didn't know what to say, he didn't know what to do. He thought he would come into her room and get the beating of his life but looking upon the scene he could only think about her lips around his cock. A smile spread across his face.

Kim continued thinking about Robert and Jessica, only now, in her mind, Jessica was there, sucking on Robert's cock. Kim looked at Robert as he told her to take off her robe, she did so in her dream and walked slowly towards Robert. When she got to him he said:

"You two are my little whores now, aren't you?"

"Yes" said Jessica, Kim could only look at him dumb founded. Robert moved his hand up to her throat and closed his hand. Pulling Kim closer he kissed her on the mouth. Kim opened her mouth and let him in; she kissed him back and wrapped her arms around him. Jessica put an arm around her mother's leg for support and moved her hand up to her pussy. Feeling how wet she was she slide a finger into her mom's pussy.

"She pretty wet" Jessica said. Robert pulled away from her mouth and said again

"You are my whore, aren't you?" 

"Yes I'm your whore" Kim replied

"Good now help your daughter" Kim got down on her knees and took hold of Robert's cock she slowly open her mouth and let him enter. Kim couldn't help but think about real it felt in her mouth. When she opened her eyes she saw Robert standing in front of her and his cock was in her mouth. He looked down at her and said.

"That's my little whore, be a good girl and suck my cock." Kim closed her eyes again and nodded slowly.



Infernal Machines Ch. 01



This is my first time writing any form of a novel, but with a mix of ideas - both erotic and non - I felt this would be a good start to any form of writing career I may one day hope to have. 

This is the first of many chapters I hope to unfold - if you like what you read then please let me know! :3 

***** 

The marshals caught two more today in the Grand Canyon. It seems they're getting better by the day; to my knowledge, I'd say that there were only a hundred or so of us left. 

The light of the dying sun has finally faded, though, and the marshals seldom traverse the town in the dark. It gives me some peace, at the very least. I find myself sat at the same table most nights, but more so tonight, having received a telegram from an old friend of mine. 

Maraldi Pan. 

A gentleman, certainly; has a way with words and his manner is equally as persuasive. I have to laugh, to even think he - out of all of us - would be caught out yet. 

Sarsaparilla. Not my ideal beverage, but I suppose I need to make an impression, after all these years. I take a moment to slip off the long trench coat, adjusting my monocle as I lean in. 

I hope he likes Sarsaparilla. If I'm going to suffer, he might as well join me. 

I set up the individual pieces of ebony and ivory royalty on the board, before taking a deck of cards from my waistcoat pocket. Silver-rim - limited edition, to those who could afford it. A collectible, if you will. 

Deck to the side, I feel the follicles at the nape of my neck commence an upward wave before a sudden shiver falls upon me. I glance up - a few of the locals. No sign of Maraldi, though - I wonder if they found him on the wagon trail. 

I laugh to myself. There I go again. I have no faith - that's what he would say. 

I lean back in the chair, stretching my arms out either side before bringing them up and straightening my hair back. My eyes close. I can't be tired again already - I've practically become nocturnal. 

"Not keeping you up, am I?" 

Eyes re-open. I feign what sense of dignity remains by sitting back forward. Like nothing had happened. He just smirks at me. 

"Silvanus." 

"Marzipan." I smirk. 

He removes his bowler and runs his fingers back through his hair, resting his cane against the table as he sits opposite me. It's a lovely cane - mahogany in length, with a silver horse-head for the handle; I fear I may have been gazing at it for too long. His eyebrows are raised. 

"There will have to come a day when you can think of something better than 'Marzipan'." 

"I'll come up with something better when you change your ill-ridden name to something I can work with." 

A brief pause for effect, but I manage to break first. Our laughter seems to fill the room for a few brief moments. His hand reaches out, and I return the gesture - we shake. 

"It's been far too long, Silvanus. How have you kept yourself?" 

I sip my drink and replace it. "Well enough, for a nocturnal - better for knowing you managed to make your way here safely." I scan behind him quickly before returning to his gaze. "You did arrive here safely, didn't you?" 

I swear I almost hear a chuckle behind that emotionless grin of his. 

"I hardly imagined you of all people would have little faith in me." He barely makes the last few words out - his hand retreating into his coat pocket, retrieving a brass inhaler. One inhale - hold...exhale. Another; rinse, repeat. I suppose I couldn't deny it - there was a slight doubt. Not that he needed to know that. 

"On the contrary, my comrade - I only believed you would arrive a little sooner. All the good stuff has been drunk." 

Maraldi picks up his glass, studies it, smells its contents and gives a faint wince before replacing his glass. He sighs - is he bored? I ask him this, but as he shakes his head I merely nod. 

It's Chess, but with the addition of tactics; you move a piece and select a card. 2 to 10 counts as nothing, but Jacks, Queens, Kings and Aces will grant you an extra move. I move my first Pawn - I have his attention now, and as he sits forward to study the board I've selected my first card. 

7 of Spades - no good to me. His turn. He rests his chin in his hand, caressing the soul patch he's managed to grow religiously over the years I've known him. Moves his first Pawn and draws - Ace of Hearts. He was always much better at this game than I. 

"I take it this is your usual spot?" He also has a surprisingly keen eye. I pry, "What makes you think that?" 

"The table is spotless." He was right. I hadn't even noticed until now - every speck of dust that coated the seldom walked-upon floorboards, congregating closer to the few surrounding tables whereby no-one would sit - no-one, except for me. I would keep this table clean because I intended to use it. Everything else might as well have been décor. 

I congratulate him with a nod, only he's managed to move his first bishop AND draw a King of Diamonds. He moves his bishop once more before taking a sip of the sweet black substance. He draws and smiles. 

"4 of Clubs. Your turn, comrade." 

I go to move my next piece, before the cool air stiffens my body. Maraldi watches me and stays, for the most part, perfectly still - slowly, his eyes follow mine and glance around to the bar. 

Marshals. Fuck. 

I slowly lean into the board, but am very much aware that the Marshals may have finally caught up to us. I give a low whisper to beckon him - Maraldi's hand rises slightly to try and listen. They're surprisingly loud for men whose job role requires them to be silent. 

"Barkeep! A round of beers over here. We'd like a word, too." 

My glance returns to Maraldi, who has turned back to face me and slowly leans in, staring at his used cards. "They're out late." 

"Yes. Very strange" 

"Is there a back way out of here?" 

"Only an under-route through the cellar, but it's no use." 

"Why not?" I reply, "The barkeep and I are on good terms." 

He's doing it again - raising his eyebrows. He goes to say something - too late. He hears the footsteps as I see the figures moving closer. He leans back into his chair, keeping his eyes locked to mine. I hope he brought protection. 

"Well howdy there, fellas." One of the marshals speaks, the other removing his hat - a long scar down his eye, but covered nicely with the skin-coloured eye patch. "Perhaps you'd like to tell us what you're doing here." 

Maraldi speaks first - his Texas impression is quite realistic, if not comical. "Just playing a game or two, Marshal. Perhaps you gentlemen would like to join us?" I had almost prayed that would work. I knew better, however. 

"Perhaps I should rephrase, son - what are you doing here?" 

Don't insult him, Marshal. I see his eyes flicker quickly away from me before I interject with my own impression, albeit not the best but certainly worth a shot. "I understand you caught out two of those outcasts in the Canyon, Marshal." That caught his attention. "Must have been quite the chase." 

This time the other Marshal speaks. "Well well, they even talk just like us don't they?" "It's a disguise, you idiot. Outcasts. Two this morning - two more for a bonus." 

He reaches down for Maraldi's shoulder - big mistake. 

Without a moment's grace, Maraldi has the Marshal's arm twisted behind his back, struggling grunts of pain as he pushes him into his partner, rising to help but only to fall back into the table and onto the floor. 

Now's our chance. I grab my trench coat and lead us out of the tavern - I should have tipped Al before I got out of there, but I suppose my 'guest' wouldn't have appreciated the delay. 

We got outside. The breeze hit us hard, the sand it's accomplice - we needed to find shelter. I grab his shoulder and manoeuvre us further West. 

Gunshots. I glance back briefly to find the Marshals are already back on their feet, chasing after us and quick-firing their six-shooters. At least we had a little leeway when they needed to reload. I drag us left suddenly, and into one of the town's larger buildings. I gather the Marshals are close on our tail, but I hide myself and Maraldi into the nearby cloakroom and wait. 

Muffled banging - still loud. Shouting. I think they're calling for us to come out. Doesn't matter. I hear footsteps down the hall, making their way towards the door. It opens. Silence, briefly. 

I press my finger to my lips with a wink - Maraldi just rolls his eyes, frustrated at the situation, but wary of the footsteps returning our way. The curtain opens quickly. 

"Now how did I know it would be you hiding in here?" 

Madame 'Erotique'. 

I breathe a sigh of relief. Any of the other girls might have just handed us in then and there. Thankfully, we were well acquainted - not that the harsh slap across the face I soon received made that completely noticeable. 

"Why were the marshals at my doorstep then?" 

Hands to hips, she pressed in closer - it was difficult to maintain eye contact with a lady slightly shorter than I (for a 6'3" gentleman, at the very least) without catching sight of that rather extensive chest. 

34GG, if I recall, and nicely contained within a silver-bone corset, red and black silk which led down to a long, frilled dress style - not to mention, those glorious thighs. 

"I'm sure they were mistaken. That's all. But, just in case, perhaps we could make an enquiry on your vacancies?" 

I could only imagine Maraldi's face as I said that, given his reply. "How classy of you, Silvanus - hide out in a whorehouse, why don't we?" 

I was thankful that the lady before us - the owner of this 'whorehouse' - knew me; otherwise I couldn't have guaranteed his safety without finding another establishment to hide out. She looks to us and signals her head towards the opposite door, leading on as we followed closely. 

Through brass doors lay a small empire of rich men and other established ladies and gentlemen, sat at separate tables; their tables were either greeted by an exotic, alcoholic beverage or an exotic male or female - ahem - 'attendant'. I glanced back to Maraldi - he almost seemed embarrassed to be here. I never thought of him to be the shy type. 

The Madame led us up a set of stairs - she was always remarkably careful to keep every inch of her establishment clean. Always keeping up appearances. Admirable. 

Down a long corridor situated several doors; She continued on, flicking a lock of her long, stunningly red hair from her glance as she moved to the first door. Reaching between her bosom, she retrieved a small set of keys, opening the door and stepping aside. "Your friend is welcome to sleep here tonight." 

I have a feeling Maraldi would have preferred to talk longer with me, but I feel he may have learnt from his previous mistake and simply went along with what she said. He stepped into a rather luxurious room, an oak double bed by a small window. He rested his coat onto the bed. 

"There's a bathroom down the corridor. The girls make their rounds every 30 minutes...should you be interested." 

He turned to me with an eyebrow raised. A talent we both shared - smirking without moving our lips. She closed the door and glanced up to me before proceeding down the rest of the hall. I couldn't deny that my own glances focused on her sensual hip movement with every step she took. 

We reached another door and she repeated the process, this time leading the way in. I followed behind and made my way to the bed - she didn't feel like she deserved any more than her boys and girls, and so lived simply. It was beautiful. 

I took my coat off as my hostess stood before me, slowly unbuttoning my shirt. "Can you trust him?" 

"With my life." Admittedly, I paused before I gave that answer; I'm sure I would, though, thinking about it. She slid my shirt off slowly and caressed her hand along my right arm. Slowly, her soft fingertips stroked down to my wrist; stopping briefly, she began to stroke a series of patterns. 

"You could have been caught, Attica." Her voice showed concern, her amber eyes showing a soft sadness of what may have been. She kept stroking. 

"I can't imagine they'd get much unless they did what you do." 

She smiled softly, leaning in and planting a soft peck to my lips before tapping the inside of my wrist once. 

She was a wonder. She moves away and begins to unfasten her corset. She faced away from me - there was something about the dematerialising of my skin that put her off, and yet, the metallic, clock-work operated arm that took my normal arm's place gave her some form of satisfaction. 

"Promise me you'll be careful, Attica, my darling." She turns to me as her corset slowly falls to the floor - she was practically naked except for her lower garments - fishnet stockings, black lace underwear. She moved in close, but my gaze was elsewhere - namely, a clog of sand that had made its way into one of my cogs. 

I took a small match from the nightstand and studied the cog in question - carefully, I ground the tip against the particles and slowly got them out. 

"I swear, one day I'll find a town with a little less sand to trouble me like this." 

"Promise me." 

I glanced up, but found she had already moved herself onto her knees in front of me. Her gentle hands rested upon each other above my lap, and with as sincere a smile I could provoke I gently rested my human hand on top. "I promise, Geri." 

She smiled as she slowly kissed my hand. Upon moving it away, she slowly began to remove my belt, unzipping my black trousers. She looks so cute. So innocent - the face of a girl, barely a woman. 

I put that thought immediately out of my mind. I went back to studying my arm on the whole, glancing at each spike of each cog, studying them. "At least the..." I closed my eyes briefly as she began before clearing my throat slightly. "...the Illusifer works...Mmm.." 

She had my attention now. I placed an arm either side so that I could gently lean my head behind me whilst stretching my back. As I wet my lips a tad, I couldn't help but release a soft moan from my lips. 

A shining mess of long red hair, slowly moving up and down - her gaze was down, which made for a change in her usual method of locking eyes with mine. Her soft, plump lips, expertly working my growing erection within her mouth. Of all the people in this building - she was the best. The master. 

I felt the pace of my heart quicken slightly; her hands took a gentle hold of the inside of my legs as she sucked slowly, her tongue slithering in a coil around my length. I think I may have been her favourite - it didn't take her long before I felt her mouth moving faster, coating my cock with hot saliva, making a point that she wanted me. 

I bit my lip. She was fantastic at this, and our past experiences made each time more of a challenge for her to better herself. 

Unff! She stopped, with every inch of my length deep in her mouth. Slowly, she pulled back with soft suction, slithering her tongue slowly up the final half and quickly around the tip. She gives me a playful wink before she sits up a little more, taking her exquisite breasts in her hands and moving in to press them over my cock. 

Those big, soft breasts - she gave me the eyes I wanted to stare into, moving her hands up and down as she began to tug on my cock. "Mmmm, that's it Geri..Ohh.." I moved my body back to lie on the bed. My eyes closed - I embraced the sensation of her big breasts as they suffocated my hard cock. I don't believe it took too long before I felt my hips starting to buck. 

She beckoned me with harder tugs. "That's it, my love. Cover them - cum for me." I did as she commanded - a hot surge of white gold pooling over her large breasts. She gave a contented sigh as she slowed her pace before eventually stopping, simply and lovingly staring at the mess I'd made, glancing between it and my chest as I finished a long, soft groan. Perfect. 

I feel her release my member, and I watch her rise and move over to the mirror, taking a spare handkerchief from the drawer beneath and cleaning herself. I wipe a bead of sweat from my forehead prematurely, for I know she is nowhere near finished with me. 

Once I find the strength, I move myself up further onto the bed, remaining laid out on my back. I feel the bed move and squeak softly as her body soon crawls its way slowly up mine - she kisses the tip of my cock, slowly up my stomach and chest, soon reaching me, face to face - I feel her hand stroke me slowly as I wince slightly with the still sensitivity. 

She continues until I am stood to attention once more, and carefully positions herself as she brings her face closer to mine. Our lips lock - my cock penetrates her, soon filling her. She keeps her lips locked with mine to sustain a moan - tease. 

She parts her lips from mine and sits up. Gently taking hold of her breasts, she played with her nipples, gently rubbing and tugging them until they became erect. "Do you...promise me, Attica? Please...please promise me." 

I promise her, breathlessly. I promise her a little louder, and she nods her head eyes closed and mouth gently agape. She believes me. 

I feel her hips slowly begin to rock back and forth, and she bites her lip. My clockwork hand grips the duvet beneath us as I let out a slightly harder moan. She alternates between riding me and bouncing her pussy up and down on top of my rehardened length. 

"Mmm..Geri...Mmmm, please...Go faster...Please." I'm practically begging by candlelight, but she does so as if she had already planned it. Her hips moved violently, back and forth her pussy massaged the thick length within her, milking me of my precum as she let out debaucherous moans. She was setting herself the challenge - she knew the favourites. 

"God, you're so big! Mmmm you're filling me up!" 

"Mmmm do you like that baby? Do you like it when I pleasure you this way?" 

"Ohhhh baby! Please, cum with me - fill me with your hot cum!" 

This session felt like it lasted an hour, and it was only the beginning of the evening she had in store for us. I held on for as long as I could, and did my best to keep myself from collapsing as I made sure she orgasmed more than once - eventually, the pleasure drove her wild. Her actions became faster, harder, rougher - she milked me for all I was worth, and got what she wanted. All of my pent-up frustration released deep inside her as I let out a long growl of pleasure. 

I looked up to the ceiling as I held her close during our first interval. I felt awkward - my persona as a gentleman, I felt, seemed tarnished by my desire for lust in my later years. 

Geri comforted me with a stroke of her hand, caressing over my chest as I kept her close for a while. I kissed her forehead and rested my eyes for a while. 

END OF CHAPTER 1



Infernal Machines Ch. 02



Brief side note: The following is from the viewpoint of Attica's comrade, Maraldi. If this is the first chapter you have read within the Infernal Machines series - for the purposes of continuity - I recommend that you read from Ch. 01 first in order to get a better idea of what has previously happened. 

***** 

The glass of water I requested makes a gentle clinking noise as it nudges back and forth on the bedside table; she asked for it rough, and I paid enough for the both of us to have an equally good time. 

My preferred method would have been to keep my hands against the wall, or at the very least a hard surface for gripping - however, she seems to be gaining enjoyment with my hands on her hips and occasionally her plump ass for every time she asks to be spanked 'like the naughty girl she is'. 

Her moans are loud and excitable - they seem to drown out each of my grunts as I focus on thrusting into her. 

"Ohhh yes baby! Mmmm that's it, fuck my ass! Mmmm yesss!" 

I let out the odd moan here and there - it usually only comes out when she pushes herself back onto me. Her tight entrance is snug, but lubrication comes frequently in the form of my precum. Not that she's looking for that alone. 

I spank her ass harder and with each she lets out a small squeal of delight. *That* makes me moan more - the debauchery in her voice is working wonders. My hands move around to her front, bringing me closer into her whilst I massage her heavy breasts, kneading them together and toying with her nipples. 

Her moans grow in decibel - she lets out a small, exasperated scream before breathing heavily. I tease her as I move my left hand down her body - soaking wet. Good. 

She persists, though she doesn't have to - her ass cheeks slap against me as she thrusts back into my hips, driving my hard cock in and out of her vigorously. 

I caress my fingers up and her wet pussy lips as I moan out loud. I tell her I'm close and she begs me. 

"Mmmph please - please cum! Cum mmmm inside of me! Fill me mmmm fill me up!" 

Without a moment's notice I fulfil her desire and slam my length deep inside, releasing my hot cum into her tight ass. 

She has her adorable moments - like when she nearly stumbled onto the bed earlier - and one of the few I've seen so far is how red her face becomes as she presses her face into the pillow. She's sustaining a long, pleasurable groan, much to my disappointment. I was looking forward to hearing her show how much she wanted this, but perhaps this line of work presents a challenge even to the hostess' customers. 

I slip out of her and lean forward to kiss along the nape of her neck. I brush some of her long blonde hair away as I whisper into her ear. 

"You were wonderful." 

She takes the rest of what I owe and proceeds on her way. Never looked back as I bid her goodnight. 

I sat alone for a short period; I took the glass of water from the side and began to sip at it slowly, staring outside towards the glistening moon. One of my few, true companions these days. 

I rise to my feet and wrap one of the towels from the small chest of drawers around my waist, covering my lower as I make my way out into the stretch of hallway, closing the door behind. 

Proceeding down towards the bathroom, I hear moans coming from one of the rooms close-by - a man and a woman. The female voice gasps. 

"Did I hurt your arm?" 

I smirk as I hear a growl return from the other, more masculine voice. I continue on down the hall. 

She must be his lover. 

I take a moment to examine the bathroom. Normally I would prefer to make use of the old-fashioned, copper bathtubs - in fact, I'm amazed they even have one here, given that they're quickly becoming less and less used - but I'm drawn instead to the shower that appears to have been newly fitted in. Silver nozzles and showerhead fixed to the wall; no sign of a pipe for the water to flow from. 

I take my chances and am pleased by its usefulness. Hot water quickly coats my skin; I make use of the soap at the sink and lather some of it into my hands, massaging it into my arms before rinsing it off, doing the same for my legs and so on. 

I turn away from the wall and close my eyes, stepping back slightly to allow the water to cascade down over my slicked hair and I push my hands gently through it, ruffling it slightly. 

After a while I step out and carefully dry myself off - I massage the towel into my arms and legs, drying off my torso and back, cleaning my limp cock and ruffling my hair with the towel. 

I wrap it once more around my waist. 

I make my way back down the hallway - no noise coming from their room now. He's probably taking a break. 

I reach the door and go to open it, only the door is slightly ajar. I barely step into the room before I notice this, and with caution I step in slowly. The light of the hallway covets barely enough of the room, but it manages to reach the end of my bed - and over a slender pair of feet. 

I try to see more out of the darkness but the difference in light frequency makes this difficult - taking my chances, I instead move into the bedroom and close the door behind me, locking it as I keep my gaze focused over the dark silhouette at the bed. 

"I didn't request any further service." 

The figure doesn't make any form of response, but as I slowly move around the bed towards the window I can sense its eyes following me. I reach the bedside table. 

"You're in my room...I suppose, then, you won't mind if I shed some light in here..." 

No response again. I take a small packet of matches out of one of the drawers, being sure to carefully withdraw my gun also. I take it into my hand and, in fiddling with the packet with the other, carefully prepare it for any sudden movements. I strike a match against the wood of the table. 

I light the candle and swiftly turn to hold my gun up to...her. 

Much to my surprise, there is a young, slender female lying on my bed, staring up at me. The main attributes I notice are the discolouration of her skin - flamboyant patches of green and blue - her slightly pointed ears, and the most dazzling amber eyes I believe I've ever seen. 

She's gazing up at me with what appears to be a content smile. It's like she's pleased to see me, but...to my recollection I've never met her before. 

"Who...Who are you?" 

She doesn't speak. She doesn't need to; With every word I utter, I feel myself growing weaker, mentally and physically. My gun falls from my hand and I simply stare at it. 

I don't know what's come over me - I use what I can to look up to her. Her form is growing fuzzy. With the last of my strength I pounce onto the bed, moving atop of her wildly as my hands violently press into either side of the pillow. 

She simply stares up at me. My breath is growing heavy as I try to fight for control of my own body. She leans in and whispers into my ear. 

A language I don't recognise. My eyes flutter slightly as I switch between domination and submission; a word keeps flickering in my head. 

"Infinity." 

The force that held onto me suddenly disappeared - my breathing quickened. I stared at her with caution and a strange, curious desire. 

She looks so innocent, lying there. She's fully naked, and the candle light dimly shows off her pert breasts; her slender figure, blue and green; her long, storm-purple hair covering some of the pillow and laid behind her, down to her shoulders. 

I lean in close as I look over her face. "Who...What are you...Infinity..." 

Then she takes me by surprise - she nods. 

Meeting me half-way, she leans in with her eyes closed, her soft lips planted carefully into mine. My own eyes closed, slowly; my hands loosened their grip on the pillow. 

I let my guard down. 

Her soft hands rested gently upon my strong shoulders, caressing down along my arms before rising them up once more and wrapping her arms gently around my neck. I pressed myself in close, my hands caressing down her hips as my left hand moved around her back to pull her into me. 

Our tongues met. She parted from me for a light gasp of breath and gazed at me. Her eyes pierced through mine; she leaned her head back and tilted it slightly, showing off her neck to me. 

Submissive; I leaned in slowly, breathing in the sweet scent of her body. I grazed the tip of my nose lightly up her neck, which caused the younger female to shiver softly. I tenderly place a long kiss to her neck, soon planting a few more as I move my lips up and down. She releases a soft, high moan. 

I nibble gently and I feel her legs move together beneath me. I move my head back up to stare at her, my right hand caressing back up and stroking her cheek. She nuzzles into my palm and I find myself slowly moving down her body. 

I gaze at her breasts, cupping them as if they were fragile ornaments - I kiss between them, before kissing her breasts, lightly glazing her nipples with my tongue. She purrs - I think I'm doing well. 

I move further down, but her hands succeed in reaching the destination before me. She covers herself modestly. I look up to her but she looks away this time. I stroke my fingers softly up along her legs, leaning down to slowly kiss upwards along them. 

Infinity - such a strange, but undoubtedly pretty name for this...incredible creature. 

Slowly but surely, her legs begin to part. I maintain a slow speed as I continue up her legs, before reaching my goal. 

I place more tender kisses to her smooth skin; I slowly guide my tongue over her lips. She gasps and bucks her hips slightly, but I instinctively hold her legs - not too hard, but considering she should be technically tried as an intruder, it wouldn't be wise for me to allow her any advantage for suddenly escaping. 

I watch her body, her chest rising slowly, then quickly, trying to calm herself, though the whole thing makes me feel like it's her first time. 

I move my lips in closer - I make out with her lips. I close my eyes and lap my tongue, slowly, up and down. As I find the clit, I begin to softly suck and twirl the tip of my tongue around it - her breathing becomes irregular, and her hands have now reached into my hair, now in soft curls having not combed it back for better presentation. 

She's holding on hard - this pleases me. I continue as she tries to move her legs. Maybe I'll let her move one... 

I try to control the situation, but she instantly breaks free. Her legs wrapped around me, she makes a sudden move and it feels almost as if she's about to break my neck. 

"I'm sorry..." 

I gaze up at her. For the first time, words have been introduced, along with her concerned expression as she now sits on top. 

I close my eyes as my hands caress along her thighs. I continue to wriggle my tongue back and forth, but this time I can feel her growing wet. She moans out, slowly rocking her hips back and forth. She grinds her pussy down onto my lips as I massage them into her. 

She stops slightly - I continue, but she seems to be focused on something else. 

Of course. It only occurs to me in that moment that, throughout all of this, my own genitalia has begun to react to the situation - a fact that is only truly recognised when her soft hands take a gentle hold of my shaft. 

She moves her hand up and down, covering every inch of it as she repositions herself - she turns to face my length, keeping her crotch close to my mouth. My hands take a firm hold of her ass, spanking it briefly before I pleasure her once more with my mouth. Following suit, Infinity teases the tip of my cock with her tongue, before taking in what she can and massaging my length with her mouth. 

We both moan into each other, which provides an extra (albeit slight) stimulation. 

I can't take any more. I *want* her. 

I part my lips from her pussy and lie her onto her back - in the process; she slips my length from out of her mouth and watches as I manoeuvre myself back to face her. Staring deeply into her eyes, I line myself up - she's already parted her legs for me, out wide before gently wrapping them around my waist, pushing me in closer and, helpfully, starting the penetration. 

She's tight, but she seems to show no expression of pain. I move slowly just in case - I feel the first couple of inches enter her, then a couple more, until the final inch or so fills her. 

She's biting her lip - her eyes rolling upwards as she lets out a content sigh. I watch her, curiously; cautiously. Lustfully. 

Lovingly. 

I move slowly, sliding my cock deeply in and out of her. She closes her eyes, embracing the pleasure with me as we both let out soft moans. Her hands gently grab onto my back, but much like me she doesn't seem to know where to keep them for long. I continue to thrust, harder, faster; her right hand slips away from me, up onto the pillow, gripping it, moving it underneath. 

I let my guard down. 

I close my eyes for only a moment - too late. They reopen violently as I feel a sharp, dull pain at my side. She's giving me that same content look from before, but as I look down I see her hand gripping the hilt of a blade, now buried into the area of my lung. 

I cough up some blood onto the pillow. 

She pushed me off of her and the surprising force of her actions cause me to collapse numbingly off of the bed. I cough once more, straining as I do everything I can to move around towards my gun. 

I should have known it would be all for naught, however, as she stands before me on the cold hard floorboard. Defeated, I lie onto my back and watch her as she moves past me, kneeling down atop of me. 

She looks so pleased to see me. 

The light of the moon catches the blade above her head, as she quickly brings it back down, impaling the area of my heart. I let out a long, painful groan, whilst she simply smiles. 

She doesn't even take the blade. Slowly rising to her feet, she simply stares at me. Content. 

But why? Who was she? I try to call out as her figure becomes hazy, leading out of the door. 

"Inf...Infin..." 

My eyes...slowly grow dim...my breathing has begun to lessen. I know I need to...control myself, now, more than ever...I just need to rest my eyes...for a moment... 

"Maraldi!" 

END OF CHAPTER 2



Infernal Machines Ch. 03



[This chapter returns to the viewpoint of Attica Silvanus; if this is the first chapter you've read in the series, and you are interested in following the full story, please check out the first two chapters J]

I rush into the room and kneel to the floor beside Maraldi.

I just watched her leave his room as I was making my way to the bathroom – fortunate was I that her skin colour-patterns were as suspicious as the glance she gave me before she made her way down the hall.

Not so fortunate now, I suppose.

Geri runs in to see the commotion shortly after I take my hand-towel and frantically press it onto the gash in his chest. He's coughing blood, but his eyes are open now.

"Maraldi, keep your eyes open – what happened?"

He tries to speak – I lean in to see if he can whisper, but instead he points to his side. Christ, she got his lung as well? I swing my head around to speak to Geri.

"Get me some more towels – quickly!"

She nods, and rushes out of the room. I focus my attention back onto Maraldi. She's coughing, eyes drifting from focusing on me and rolling up.

"Maraldi, calm your breathing down. Stay with me."

I'm panicking – first the Marshalls, and now since. I can't lose Maraldi now, not like this.

He grabs my shoulder, forcing me down so that he can speak into my ear.

"In...Inf...finity..."

"What?"

No response. Geri stops behind me – she doesn't hand me the towels.

"Maraldi? Maraldi!"

I shake him slightly, then a little more. I could've shaken the rest of his blood out of him had she not stopped me. Her tender hand on my shoulder broke me.

My hand slips from his chest and shoulder; it's over.

Christ. Maraldi...





Infernal Machines Ch. 04



She's chosen to sit opposite me, I suspect, to keep a better eye on me.

This journey will be a long one, and I know I might eventually have to break my silence and make what conversation I can muster with this...'Infinity'.

We're at least two hours into our travel across the great canyon – they initiated an impressive rail system a year or so ago, supposedly for better access from A to B. Not that it makes the scenery any less pleasant, but it shows how man-made things are always in effect with nature.

I make the most of my sitting in these rather comfy cabin chairs by gazing out over the canyon. Seldom do I choose to offer a glance to my equally less-than-talkative companion, who when I do look is never breaking her stare at me.

The cabin feels almost claustrophobic, the two of its only occupiers, the brief amount of luggage neatly stored away above us.

The smoke freely passes the window occasionally, followed alongside a sharp low tone of the train's whistle.

Two hours, beautiful landscape, and just her staring at me. I doubt I'll find peace any other way.

I swallow my pride and sit back from the window, focusing on the creature before me, who upon noticing I have decided to give her more than a few seconds notice tilts her head in curiosity. Cute.

"What exactly are you, then?"

She looks away briefly before glancing back, readjusting her head back to its natural position.

"What happened to your arm?"

"I believe it is customary for the person to have been asked the question first to answer it first."

"Very true, Mr Silvanus. However, it is only fair that I do not provide an answer for your question, as I know you will not provide an answer for mine."

She's forced a harsh glare from me – we're equally matched, it seems, much to my annoyance.

She remains silent from then on, simply smiling as if she was completely innocent. It really is rather distasteful.

I must say, though, that it wouldn't surprise me if Maraldi was seduced by this creature. Despite my feelings in the matter, she is quite attractive to look at – the patterns of her body are certainly interesting to look at, but the sunlight cast over the canyon brings out the beauty of her eyes, dazzling through her hair.

I gulp once more. Nervous.

Suddenly, the violent opening of doors. We both turn to the door, but she makes the first move and rises from her seat, looking carefully through the window into the train's corridor.

"Marshals. Three of them."

I feel a rush of pins and needles rushing through my natural arm, both hands gripping tightly into fists as I nervously rise to look also; she keeps me back with one arm as she continues to look on.

Panic. I move to the window and open it, sticking my head out briefly. The air has a slight breeze to it, but the warmth of the sun evens it out quite nicely.

I look down, however, to see that the track is stretching across a great gap between two pillars of rock.

I move my head back in just as another blast of smoke and whistle come rushing past the window. I close it, and turn on my feet with a slightly breathier pace.

Several thoughts are rushing past each other in my head, and I struggle to focus on just one as the situation seems to grow worse.

I suddenly remember that my man-made arm is still on show – quickly, I tap in over the wrist and it soon materialises from the shoulder down into a natural-looking arm.

"The marshals are going room to room."

She says it so calmly, as if it means nothing.

I move closer to try and see with her, but she insists I stay behind her. I look around the clear window and up to the blinds – they need to go down. They need to...

Oh.

I quickly push into her from behind, causing her to stumble slightly, but nevertheless maintaining her place as I move up and proceed to lower the blinds over each section of window viewing between the corridor and our room.

"I suppose you have a plan, Mr Silvanus?"

No time to explain it to her. I simply pin her hands into the blinds ahead of us and press myself in close. She struggles slightly, to which I lean my head in.

"Just do as I say, when I say it."

I can hear a soft snarl pass her lips, but she pays attention to the movement of the marshals outside the room.

"Right – now."

I keep my hands pinned over hers to keep them in place, and begin to rhythmically grind myself into her ass. Another soft snarl, but she realises what she needs to do, and moves with me.

The faint shadows of the men outside stop outside our door. Their words aren't very clear, but enough so to make out.

"Next one. Wait...what's going on here?"

"You're wasting time, open the door."

Shit. It's not working. I need to make the situation more convincing. Scowling internally, I lean my mouth in to the creature's neck and nibble sensually.

It worked, better than I'd expected. She gave a light, submissive moan as she moved quicker with me, and continued to do so as I tenderly marked her neck with my teeth and lips.

"Hah, well what do we have here?"

"Leave them; we've got no time to deal with fornicators. Let's move on."

They eventually move, and I release my grip on her neck and hands slowly, moving back and with a sigh of relief sitting back down in my seat.

"They might just come back. We'll need to take turns keep watch..."

Something tells me she's not listening. She hasn't moved from her spot since I let go of her.

She eventually moves with an initial turn of her head. She looks angry...very angry.

Without so much as a few steps forward, she's already before me and swings her hand palm first across my cheek.

I snarl to the pain. Her nails managed to catch my cheek, causing a harsh cut into my cheek. I rise up to challenge her but she simply pushes me back – the strength she possesses, when she chooses to show it, is terrifying.

She slowly moves back to her seat, and glances at me briefly before focusing her attention on the great landscape.

I smirk. The tables appear to have turned, for now.



Infernal



That was when it had all become too much to ignore. 

That was why Celestina was here. 

If it had ended with Elspeth, all might have been well, for the rest of them at least. The headmistress would have been punished eternally for her incestuous acts. But it hadn't ended there. Caleb, taking more eagerly to this lesson than any book learning in his entire life, began visiting himself upon the girls like any wolf in a sheepfold. 

Some were frightened of him, or angry, and chased him away with loud recriminations. Some let him do what he wished, welcoming him eagerly. Others succumbed with tearful obedience to the commands given by Elspeth herself, who would sit and watch and urge Caleb on as he deflowered and ravished one girl after another. Sometimes she would ready them for him, wetting them with her tongue or massaging them with oils that would ease the passage of his size. 

Evil had come to the school. It was no simple matter of human impulse. Celestina knew that only a demon or devil could have driven such a good and true woman as Headmistress Elspeth, or a blameless simpleton like Caleb, into sin. 

She would have an answer. She would know who had done this, and why. Not that she had to strain much to imagine why. It was what they did, the devils. They found it amusing to visit their evil upon decent and God-fearing folk. To drag them down, dirty them. 

If the guilty one – not that guilt meant anything to a devil – could be found, salvation for Elspeth and Caleb and the girls might still be possible. That was Celestina's purpose here, her duty. The weight of those souls was upon her. 

So she ventured further, and into suffocating passageways where thin columns of stone served as the bars of cells through which skeletal hands grasped and reached and caught wisps from the floating whiteness of her robes. Incoherent voices from mouths without tongues begged her, and once when she strayed too far to one side, a bone-scrawny hand snatched feathers from her wing. 

The passage widened into a round chamber with a floor of crisscrossing beams over a lake of fire. The walls were hidden under tangles of chains, bodies dangling and caught in them like insects trapped in the web of some gigantic spider that spun with metal rather than silk. At the pinnacle of the room's domed ceiling was a platform, a heavy sheet of iron suspended by the stretched bodies of four men whose arms and legs had been horrendously elongated and whose eyes were desperate and aware. 

The platform held an array of levers and a demon. The demon was catlike, with rust-brindle fur and urine-yellow eyes burning with their own malevolent radiance. Its taloned paws jerked on the levers as it screeched and laughed maniacally. Each time it threw a lever, one of the bodies cocooned in chains would plunge toward the flaming lake. Sometimes the cat-demon would stop them before they were immersed, raise them and lower them a few bone-jerking times, and then return them to dubious safety. Other times, the hapless sinner would plunge, shrieking, straight into the lake. 

Celestina was about to call up to the demon when a fingertip touched her shoulder and slid to her elbow. The touch seared like a brand. 

Gasping, she whirled with her hair and robes flying about her in a billow. 

"You," the devil before her said in a very amused tone of voice, "must be lost."

**

Chapter Three – 

Headmistress Elspeth tossed and turned in fitful dreams, the bedclothes wrapping her like a shroud and restlessness twitching at her limbs. 

The girls. The laughing, playing girls. Isabella and Rose, thinking they had the willow glade to themselves. And why not? It was screened by brush and the long green hangings of boughs, reachable only by a path so narrow and low that they could only pass one at a time and stooped nearly double. From the outside, the small sun-dappled circle at the glade's heart was invisible. 

Invisible, except from one spot. The high dormer window of Elspeth's quarters looked down straight into the ring of trees and the expanse of grass at the center. From there, she had seen. 

It was hardly a surprise that the girls did what they did. Elspeth knew of the yearnings in the flesh of the curious young. Some of them came to Dame Agnes of the Hills already educated in ways that were not included in the curriculum. Some left lovers behind. Some had been introduced to the ways of men and women by their cousins, or brothers, or even their fathers. They whispered their secrets to each other, shared smuggled-in books of naughty drawings or writings, and cuddled in their maidenly beds when the lamps were out. 

Elspeth knew of this but ignored it, pretended that it did not happen, because whenever she allowed herself to think of the girls enjoying those caresses, she burned with a jealous spite and an unfulfilled urge to join them. That simply could not be. She dared take no lover from among her students, for word of it would get around, and charges of favoritism might be leveled at her. 

But that day when she'd seen Isabella and Rose … blatant hussies that they were, not confining their loveplay to the dark hours of the night but by bright midday in the green heart of the glade … 

She turned over in her bed, half-woke to fuss with the pillow, subsided. The haunting images danced through her sleepy mind. Isabella, olive-complected with sable hair spread around her like a shawl … Rose, dainty and pert and strawberry-blond, bent lovingly over Isabella's voluptuousness … 

And then she'd seen Caleb. The dormer window was not the only view-place after all, for he was hidden in the bushes at the edge of the clearing with his back to the school. Watching the girls. Stroking himself. 

Long ago, a lifetime ago, she had caught him in the playroom of the house in which they'd lived with their stern parents. He had been touching his tumescence, squeezing it, sliding his curled fist up and down, and his slack mouth was half-curved in an empty gape of pleasure. Elspeth, not a headmistress then but just an overworked and under-appreciated sister, a spinster-in-waiting with her stocky figure and dour face, had descended on him in a scolding fury and told him never-never-never, he would go blind, he would grow hair on his hands so all the world would know what he'd been doing, that if their mother or father found out he would be whipped for certain. Unable to understand anything more than her anger and his guilt, Caleb had burst into tears and quit his self-abuse. 

Until that day, years later. Only then did it occur to Elspeth that he probably hadn't ever truly ceased at all, but just taken pains to hide himself from her before he gave in to that sinful indulgence. As he spied on the girls, he did not grope with hesitancy but with the knowing skill of much practice. 

He had to be punished. 

Remembering, in her light state of dreaming, Elspeth moaned and rolled in the bed. A madness, it must have been a madness. Calling him to her office, lecturing him … and there had been something different about Caleb then, hadn't there? A cunning she had never noticed in him before. 

She mumbled into her pillow, the very words she'd said to him as he stood before her with shoulders hunched but not as shamefaced as she felt he should have been. "You've been a bad boy, Caleb, a very bad boy. You must be punished."

The switch was something she kept more as a threat than an item of use. The presence of it, the mention of it, was enough to quell even the most disobedient girl. Too many of them would have recollections of being switched on their bare bottoms by governesses, or fathers. 

Elspeth had never used the switch on Caleb but as he stood there, his eyes peering like sly animals from the caves of his sockets, she was seized by a fury. "Take down your trousers," she'd ordered him, drawing the switch from its resting place above the hearth. "Take them down and bend over the chair."

He had done so, wearing nothing beneath so that his organ sprang free and wagged there, insolently erect. Elspeth stared at it, saw how much larger it was than it had been when they were younger.

"Look at you!" she spat. "For shame, Caleb!"

The switch lashed out as if her arm had a will of its own, and striped his buttocks with a scarlet weal. He jumped when the blow landed, and astonished pain brimmed his eyes with tears. 

"Horrid boy! Wicked, sinful boy!" Elspeth hissed. "Down over the chair."

Chest hitching, Caleb did as she bade and gripped the legs of the chair when his stomach was pressed against the seat. She struck his backside and the backs of his upper thighs again and again, laddering the weals, turning all of his skin an angry red. With every swing of her arm, she watched in satisfaction as he jerked against the chair. She could see the pendulous sway of his scrotum, and when she moved to the side she also saw his erection still stiff as ever, bobbing up and down like a dowsing rod. 

"Get on your back, on the floor," she commanded. 

His face was wet, and the strangled sound of stifled sobs came from his bull neck. He thumped to the rug and trembled there, not daring to cover himself. Elspeth stalked to him, meaning to switch him on that upstanding, offending part until it shriveled and bled. 

Now, in her lonely bed, she grimaced and pulled at her own hair as if in hopes of dislodging the memory of what she'd done next. An insanity had seized her, that was it. The only possible explanation. For rather than bring the switch down in a series of vicious cuts, she had …

"No," she groaned, head turning side to side. Helpless denial, useless negation. 

She had bade him cover his face, shut his eyes, and not move so much as a muscle. Then, caught up in her mad abandon, she'd pulled up her skirt, removed her undergarments, stepped over Caleb, and lowered herself to her knees so that he thrust up between her thighs. She pinioned him there, rubbing against him, feeling the hot satiny slide of his skin through the thick curls that covered her mound. 

"You stay just as you are, Caleb, and take your medicine," she'd said in a hoarse voice that was not her own. "You have to be punished for what you did. Keep your eyes shut, keep your face covered. It will all be over soon."

So saying, she rose up a little and sank back down onto him, impaling herself. She was slick with moisture but even so, was pierced by a sudden rending pain. It passed almost at once and there she was, with Caleb's cock – yes, cock, she'd heard the word and been appalled but now greeted it with delirious hunger – stuffed well up her belly.

She rode him, rocking on his stiffness and driving his lash-wealed backside against the rug with each forth-and-back motion. What she could see of his face was a mask of mixed pain and ecstasy and she could feel him tensing within her, growing harder, swelling. 

Up and down she rode him, back and forth she rode him, and the delicious friction sent sparkling waves and bursts exploding outward from her core. She sensed a pinnacle and strove for it, working her loins in a slow and sure rhythm, aware that she was crying out yes-yes-yes with each beat, and then a whirling-falling-turbulence caught her up and spun her away. 

Elspeth sat bolt upright in her bed, a patch of moonlight spilled in her lap. Her heart was thundering, her skin damp with sweat, and she was in an agony of need. 

A bell-pull hung by the bedpost. She tugged it, imagining the chimes far off in another room. Then, knowing she had time before the summons was answered, she hastened from her bedchamber to the hall where the girls slept. 

All was silent. The headmistress looked from one door to the next, chose one, and rapped softly. 

**

Chapter Four – 

Collecting her dignity after her gasp of startlement, Celestina drew herself up and settled her wings against her back. "I have come on business."

The devil chuckled indulgently. "That's what they all say. It makes a good excuse, but we all know what they really want. You're no different."

"I do not know what you mean."

"No?" 

He was male in appearance, crimson-skinned with leathery wings. That was all Celestina saw before observing that he was naked and turning swiftly away. 

His laughter curled into her ears and insinuated itself. "Don't you like what you see, pretty angel?"

"I have come –"

"So soon?"

"—seeking an end to the possessions and demonic rites –"

"Look at me, pretty angel."

Above them, the cat-demon yowled with cruel mirth as one of its victims became partway unwrapped, kicking free only to then cling desperately to the very chains that had been its prison.

"I am here on business," Celestina repeated. 

"I can help you. Look at me."

She reluctantly, and guardedly, did. She was careful to keep her gaze elevated but was unable to be oblivious to the rest of him. 

The devil did not resemble the goateed and widow's-peaked Mephisto so often depicted, but had a square-jawed face and full lips that wore an inviting, sensuous smile. His eyes were utterly black, twin orbs of polished onyx, and the flames reflected across the surface of them in hypnotic whorls. A mane of long dark hair fell to his broad shoulders. He was powerfully built, tall. A tail swayed behind him, partially erect and waving side to side in long, snakelike curves. He wore a necklace, fine links of ivory fingerbones supporting a human sternum that had been studded with jewels in all the colors of pain. 

"Now," he said, low and warm. "Am I so frightful to look upon?"

"I am not here to look at you," she said in her loftiest possible manner.

"Right." He grinned easily. "You're here because of Sister Elspeth. Shall we adjourn to someplace more conducive to a discussion?"

As if to punctuate his words, a sinner loosed a wrenching howl of agony. Celestina suppressed a shudder. 

"I'll take that as a yes," the devil said. "This way."

Still with misgivings, but eager to get this out of the way as soon as possible that she might return to the clean and pure realm with which she was familiar, Celestina allowed him to lead her from the round room with its chains and its lake and its attendant cat-demon. 

"I am Varyk," he said as he preceded her, the muscles in his back and legs and haunches moving smoothly with each step. His tail brushed against the hem of her robe and she fell a few paces behind. He peered back at her. "How are you called?"

"Celestina," she said. "Do you know who's responsible for --?"

"Yes, yes." He waved, as if it was of no great concern, and pushed open a door. Standing gallantly back, he bowed and gestured. "In here."

"I want to get this over with," Celestina informed him as she swept past, careful to keep her wings folded tight so that the outer edge did not brush against him. 

"Of course."

Keeping a wary eye on him, she entered the room. 

And fell. 

There was no floor beneath her feet. The pit was so inky-dark and cold after the smoldering heat and light of the rest of Hell that it was like being plunged suddenly into the deepest trenches of the sea. The doorway above dwindled to a speck and was gone. Air rushed and whistled around her. 

Celestina spread her wings but she was disoriented by the fall, unable to tell which way was up. Just as she got her bearings, she was seized by strong arms and pulled up against a bare chest that was as warm as banked coals in a hearth. 

"Easy, now," Varyk chuckled in her ear. "I've got you."

"Release me at once."

"And have you fall, hurt yourself? Whatever kind of host do you take me for?"

His wings flapped with a sound like sailcloth in a fierce wind. Celestina struggled in his arms, revoltingly aware of the hot and heavy press of something against her hip. He laughed and his tail, a smooth flexion of muscle, coiled around her waist to hold her more firmly. 

"Let me go!" she snapped.

"We're almost down, pretty angel. Should be reaching the bottom –" and here, with shockingly obscene intimacy, he slid a hand down to first cup, then squeeze hers, "—any minute."

"How dare you!" Celestina yanked at his arm, at his tail. Her wings were partly crushed between their bodies. A few feathers came loose and drifted, snowflakes in the darkness, as they floated down. 

Varyk landed, and a moment later Celestina's feet touched smooth cool stone that felt like marble. She pushed at him in another futile effort to free herself. 

"That isn't very friendly of you," he chided. 

"What do you think you are doing? I am leaving."

"I can't permit that, not when we're only just getting acquainted. It isn't every day that one of us is lucky enough to catch himself an angel. I'd never live it down if I let you go without a kiss."

Shock splashed over Celestina. "Never!"

"Not even one kiss?" He sounded wheedling, but there was a threat beneath it that chilled her. 

"As I've told you –"

"Yes, yes. You're here on business. And I can tell you everything you need to know about your naughty little girl's school and your lusty headmistress. For a price. For a kiss."

She struck out. Her vision had adjusted to the deep violet and indigo shadows and she fetched him a smart blow to the face. 

Varyk laughed. "That'll cost you another kiss. Care to strike me some more?"

"I insist that you release me at once."

"You don't understand, do you, pretty angel? You're in my realm now. You've wandered far out of your territory and that makes you fair game. I'll have that kiss now."

Before she could say another word of protest, the devil clamped his lips over hers. They were hot and full and moist, and parted enough to let his forked tongue dart out to attempt and pry her mouth open. 

In a sudden surge of strength, fueled by her horror and revulsion, Celestina wrenched herself away from him. He grabbed at her, caught the collar of her robe, and she heard it rip, felt the air on her alabaster flesh from neck to waist. 

Furious now, so much so that it drowned out her fear, Celestina flung her wings to their full extension and thrust her arms skyward. A brilliant radiance surrounded her, illuminating the room. She saw a marble slab like an altar, saw the manacles at its four corners, and a silvery spike of fear tried to reclaim her. 

Varyk shied away from that abrupt, dazzling light, bringing his wings forward to shield his face. But in the shadow of his wing, she saw his grin and it was as mocking as ever. 

She looked up, seeing the door as a tiny pinprick in the vast column of blackness. A mighty downstroke of her wings and –

His hand closed around her ankle as she shot upward. 

A startled cry, not a scream but shamefully near one, burst from her. Varyk hauled her down, brushing off the frantic beating of her wings as if she were no stronger than a moth. He wrestled her onto the marble slab and closed cold iron around her ankle with a loud click. 

Celestina fought madly but almost before she could believe what was happening, she was locked in place. Her arms were outstretched to her sides, her legs together, wrists and ankles in the manacles with her wings spread flat under her body and her robes and hair tossed all around in disarray. 

"What a lovely sight this is," Varyk said, standing near her head. "A pretty angel, and mine to do with as I please."

Her protests and outraged shouts were muffled as he leaned over and kissed her again. This time, her mouth was caught open and his tongue shot eagerly in. He held her by the sides of her head so that she could not turn her face away and prolonged the kiss, uttering a low growl of enjoyment. 

At last, it ended. Celestina choked and spat, and blinked away the indignant tears that had sprung to her eyes. 

"You're a lively one. Celestina, wasn't it? How nice. Did you like that kiss?"




Infernal



"No!"

"No? Pity … I'll have to try again until I get it right."

And he did try again, this time flicking his tongue over her lips in little fluttering motions. She strained against the manacles but they were unyielding. Her body heaved and bucked as she tried to escape his persistent, knowing mouth. She lunged this way and that, felt more gossamer tear and knew that she was about to shred the robes right off herself but she had to get away, had to stop this now. 

Varyk broke the kiss and stood over her, leisurely licking his lips. He paced in a slow course around the slab and studied her with an insolence that made Celestina blush and feel strangely weak, strangely watery, even as she hissed out another demand for her freedom. 

"I'm afraid your gown is somewhat the worse for wear," he said. He plucked at it, wisps of fabric coming away in his curved black nails. Each pluck exposed more of her to his hungry gaze. 

"I insist that you stop this at once!"

"In good time, my angel. In good time." 

He stopped by her feet, slid first one and then the other sandal off and cast them heedlessly away into the fire and shadow. He ran a foreclaw up the sole of her right foot and her toes curled. 

"Such soft skin," Varyk said approvingly. 

Then, to Celestina's further shock, he brought his hips forth and rubbed his rigid organ against the soles of her feet. It was hot as a brand, pulsing with loathsome obscene life, and she could not move enough to kick him. Laughing, he pressed her feet together and worked himself into the slight gap between them, pushing in and out of this makeshift orifice. 

She screamed then, shrieked fit to shatter glass, no longer caring about conduct but only wanting to get away from him, to put an end to this, to rid herself of the smoldering-velvet feel of him. Screamed and fought against her bonds until she had abraded her wrists and ankles. Yet no rescue came, and she was no closer to freedom. 

Varyk stepped back from her and patiently waited out her tantrum, smirking in an arrogance that terrified Celestina. When she sagged back to the marble, her limbs aching from her struggle and shed feathers drifting on rising thermal currents like misdirected snow, he deliberately reached out and laid his hand full on the swell of her breast. 

"So lovely," he crooned. "And such a hard little nipple. Is it fear that does that, Celestina, or something else? Either way, I cannot let it go untasted."

The devil bent and out flicked that forked, sinuous tongue. A galvanic jolt shook Celestina. She found new strength and still it was useless. 

"Honey," Varyk mused. "Angels taste of honey. Interesting." 

He paced around to the other side and repeated the tongue-flick. Celestina could not avert her eyes in time and saw the contrast, his dark tongue and crimson skin against her pearly flesh. 

"Definitely honey," he concluded. He came to a halt by her feet again and stood there regarding her for a moment that seemed to last forever. "I wonder what else you taste like."

"Let me go." It came out a strengthless whisper, so faint she could barely hear it herself.

Varyk, if he heard, didn't pay heed. He bent down and did something at the base of the altar, something that made a grinding sound as of a lever being thrown, and then the lower half of the marble slab broke apart into two pieces that swung outward and away from each other into the shape of a Y, taking Celestina's manacled legs with them.

"You cannot do this!" Renewed terror as she was opened before him gave her back the strength to shout, but he still paid no attention.

He moved into the gap, and stroked her smooth thighs. She could lift her head just enough to see him standing between her legs, with the upthrust scarlet lance looming menacingly over the cloud-soft fluff of fleece visible through the tatters of her robe. 

His hand settled over her, clawed fingers combing through the silken hair, the press of his palm hot against her. Celestina lurched and screamed again, drawing another laugh from her tormentor. 

"Are you afraid of me, pretty angel? Just what is it that you think I'm going to do?"

"You dare not!"

"Dare not what?"

"Dare not do what you … what you intend!"

"Say it and I won't."

"I don't understand."

"Say the words. Tell me what it is that you do not want me to do. I want to hear it."

"And you won't?" She heard the hopeful tremor, reminded herself that they lied, all the minions of Hell lied, and that he was just toying with her. He only wanted to abase her further by making her voice such profanities.

"Didn't I say?"

"I don't believe you."

"So untrusting for an angel of Heaven," he chuckled. "But wise. I'll say it for you, how's that?"

"No!"

"Is it a fuck that you're afraid of, Celestina? Are you worried that I mean to put this into you and give you a long hard fucking?" He illustrated by gripping himself and thrusting with his hips, his member sliding in and out of his closed hand.

She closed her eyes and turned her head away, shuddering. Her ears felt as if they'd burn from the words. 

"Well, that wasn't my intention."

Celestina opened one eye a fraction, not believing him.

"At least," he amended, "not now. I want to taste you first, and see if it's honey down here too."

"No!"

He knelt, lowering slowly from her view until all she could see of him was the top of his sable-maned head and the upper halves of his wings. She felt his breath like dragonflame on her inner thighs, felt it stir the fleece of her mound. Her screams pealed steadily, and she yanked against her bonds. 

"I haven't even touched you yet," he chided, raising his head enough to peer over the pale contours of her body. "But scream and fight if you must. I like it that way."

A trick, she knew, a trick to make her think that if she quit resisting, he would lose interest. All he would do then was –

Her thoughts spun apart in a sudden shattering blast as his thin and agile tongue darted out and found, with unerring accuracy, a spot that sent a lightning-bolt of hitherto unknown sensation flashing through her. 

"Delicious," he purred. His thumbs parted her down there, opened her, and he delved in again with quick flickering licks and long, slow passes. 

Her sanity threatened to fracture. No one had ever suggested that it would feel good! Not even her horror and wretched shame could change the fact that his clever lips and tongue elicited sensations that she hadn't even imagined. Rather, on some level she could not even face admitting, the horror and shame of the forbidden act only added to the enticing allure of it. 

She grappled for control of herself.

There was a way to stop this, there had to be. A way to stop him before he … before he did the word that she could not bring herself to say. 

"Honey and sugared cream," Varyk said. "Do you like that, pretty angel? And remember, fibbers go to Hell."

He was going to do it. She knew that he was. He had risen up, and was standing close between her thighs, poised and at the ready. But the malicious, mocking light in his eyes told her something else – that he planned to make her want him to do it, to make her ask for it. 

Resolve steeled Celestina and with blessed relief she remembered what she could do. She took a deep breath, and began to change. 

**

Chapter Five –

Rose woke when she heard her door open on slow and stealthy hinges. She glimpsed a female silhouette in the dim glow of the hallway and immediately knew, to her disappointment, that it wasn't Isabella looking to continue where they'd left off the other day. 

No, the shape in the doorway was shorter, and much more solid than Isabella's long lean frame. The breasts were heavier, the waist twice as wide, the hips flaring and round. And the face was as coarse-featured and stony as any idol's head.

Recognizing the headmistress, Rose feigned sleep. She wasn't alone among the girls in beginning to have disturbing ideas about what was going on here at Dame Agnes of the Hills. More than one of her classmates had been called away for private meetings and discipline, and all of them had returned from those meetings shaken and unwilling to talk about it. 

She could guess, though. It had to do with Caleb. He'd always been snooping about, spying on them. Anne had caught him once in the laundry sniffing at their unwashed underthings, and Isabella swore she'd seen him crouching behind a boulder with his thing in his hand while some of the girls went swimming in the creek. Others, like Margaret, reported with winks and knowing looks that they'd had more than a little sport with the halfwit groundskeeper. 

As far as Rose was concerned, if they wanted Caleb, they could have him. She had Isabella, with her languidly loving tongue and her promise to bring Rose the carved ivory device that an adventuresome aunt had given her. Rose could hardly wait, after hearing Isabella's tales of the wonderful pleasures the device afforded. 

She had been reluctant at first, because of her pledge to Henry, but Isabella told her that most men wouldn't really know a virgin if one bit them. All she'd have to do on their wedding night was tighten her inner muscles, pretend that it hurt, and if she really wanted to be additionally convincing, contrive to have a bit of chicken's blood handy. Henry would be none the wiser, and Rose would have already been delightfully introduced to penetration by Isabella's gentle guidance. 

Instead, though, here was the headmistress. Rose let out a small breath of a snore, trying to hide that she was awake and indeed unnerved by the silent, brooding presence whose shadow fell across her bed. 

"Rose," came the harsh whisper. "Rose, get up. I must speak with you."

Resigned, she acted as though she were stirring to wakefulness. "Headmistress?"

"Shh, girl!" Elspeth hissed. "Come with me at once. Step lively, now."

It finally occurred to Rose that she might be in trouble for something. What it might be, she had no idea. She and Isabella had been circumspect to a fault, and she was obedient to the rules in all other ways. Was it something to do with her family? Bad news from home?

That thought struck a worried nerve and she got hastily out of bed, reaching for her robe because her nightdress was thin and the air had a nip to it. 

"Leave it," ordered Elspeth. "Hurry along."

The floor was cold on her bare feet but Rose made no complaint. She hurried to the headmistress, prickling with goosebumps and trying to keep her teeth from chattering. 

Elspeth led her to the large office that abutted her quarters. There was a banked fire still giving off a welcome bathing of heat and Rose moved gratefully close to it. She hugged herself and turned to Elspeth. 

"Is something the matter?" 

The headmistress only looked at her with a strange, greedy, half-lidded gaze that set Rose's skin to crawling again, though not from the chill this time.

"Headmistress?"

"Such a fair girl, aren't you, Rose? So petite, so pretty. That curly strawberry hair, those freckles and adorable dimples, and what a nice, slender figure. You must think you're quite the dish."

"I beg pardon?" 

"How old are you?"

"Almost twenty, headmistress."

"You could pass for much younger. Let's have a look at those titties."

Rose gaped. "Beg pardon?" again was the most she could manage. 

"You heard me, girl. Off with the nightdress."

"But …"

"Are you disobeying me?"

Hesitantly, Rose grasped the ends of the laces that tied up the front of her cotton gown. Now she was remembering other rumors and dark whispers that had been going around the school for the past several days. Rumors she'd discounted as lies. 

"I don't think I should," she said, folding her arms over her chest instead. 

"You show them to Isabella, don't you?"

"How did you know --?"

"I've seen you. Both of you. Naughty little girls playing with each other. If you don't want your family to find out, you'll do as I say. Take off your nightdress."

Mortified, Rose did so and stood naked in front of the fireplace. She was very conscious of her small breasts, nowhere near as nice as Isabella's despite her friend's reassurance that they were perfectly shaped for all their lack of fullness. Conscious, too, of the sparse growth of downy red-gold between her legs while Isabella's was such a lush thicket. Compared to her, Rose often felt little more than a child. 

The headmistress surveyed her with an evaluating expression that Rose found most unsettling. She started to cross her arms again but a preemptory gesture from Elspeth made her leave them at her sides. 

"Turn about."

Rose did so, feeling all clumsy and stiff-legged. When she completed the circle, she was shocked to see that Elspeth had removed her own garment and waited there just as nude as could be. She had a bottom-heavy shape and sagging breasts, and none of the lithe grace of Isabella. 

"You're going to do as I say, aren't you, Rose?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Why don't we start with what you do for Isabella?" Elspeth reclined into a low chair and spread her legs, one foot up on a hassock and the other knee thrown over the arm. She pointed to the floor in front of her. "On your knees."

"Headmistress –"

"Or would you rather be sent home with everyone knowing why?"

Biting back a sound that would have either been a sob or an angry outburst – she might never know which – Rose got gingerly down on her knees. She could smell the musky scent of Elspeth's arousal rising from the damp, anticipatory cleft and shuddered. 

"That's a good girl," Elspeth muttered. "Give it a good licking. Show me that you know how."

She bent to the task, shutting her eyes and trying to think of Isabella. It wasn't easy, especially when the headmistress' hands crept down to tweak and pinch at her breasts. Dutifully, she kept lapping until Elspeth seized a handful of her hair and hauled her head up. 

"Do it like you mean it, bitch!" she snarled, and forced Rose's head down again. 

Rose was on the verge of crying, but stifled it and determined to do as she was told. If she performed to satisfaction, she hoped to be allowed to leave. She went to work with a will this time, concentrating so hard that she didn't realize the door had opened until she felt the draft on her back and buttocks. 

"What --?"

Elspeth's hand tangled in her hair again and prevented her from turning. "Keep to your business, Rose. Just do it. Yes, that's right, just like that."

Someone else was in the room. Rose could hear breathing, could sense a presence nearby. A floorboard creaked. She tried to sit up but Elspeth still held her.

Large hard hands grasped her by the hips. In an instant, Rose knew who it was and what he was preparing to do. But the knowing it did not help her prevent it. Caleb hoisted her by the hips and wedged the throbbing meat of his cockhead at the opening of her vagina. 

"No, please!" she cried, muffled against Elspeth. 

"Keep licking!" Elspeth punctuated it with a sharp pinch to Rose's nipple. 

"Don't let him –"

Her plea was too late. Caleb plunged deep, his girth monstrous to a place that had only known the careful insertion of Isabella's fingers. Elspeth clamped her thighs shut on Rose's head, smothering her pained shriek. 

Caleb was in her, buried to the hilt. Her abused tissues sobbed in expectation of the withdrawal and then the second brutal invasion, but he stayed where he was. He groped beneath her and found the little nubbin that Isabella had taught her about, and loved so well. His callused thumb toyed with it. 

"You're not finished," Elspeth said, cuffing Rose on the ear. 

She was in an aching storm of misery, but had to continue. The headmistress sighed and moaned lasciviously as Rose applied her mouth for all she was worth. 

Meanwhile, Caleb remained as he was, his immense cock stretching her insides while his thumb coaxed her into a state of distracted, dismayed heat. She felt herself adapt to the fullness, welcome it. 

He sensed it too, and commenced a steady back-and-forth rocking that moved him in and out only an inch or two at first, gradually extending it until he was pulling out to the very tip and then driving all the way back in. 

Rose was hardly able to keep her mind on what she was doing, but Elspeth seemed not to care. It was as if she derived just as much satisfaction, or more, from witnessing the girl go from victim to willing participant. Soon, Rose abandoned her task altogether because she was shaking in uncontrollable spasms, hurtling headlong toward the peak. Elspeth laughed wildly. 

"Yes, Caleb, fuck her good and hard now," she called, busily masturbating herself while Rose, on hands and knees, pushed her bottom back to meet each of Caleb's increasingly urgent thrusts. 

He was snorting and puffing, and Rose thought of dogs, of bulls, and wondered how she must look. For a moment she saw them as if through Elspeth's eyes, the small red-haired girl and the huge man, hunched over her with his hips driving, driving. The image seared into her mind and sent her over the edge. She came in a desperate, wailing frenzy. And still he kept going, relentless, an unstoppable machine.

"Stop, Caleb," Elspeth said. "That's enough."

Caleb ignored her. He hefted Rose up, one arm around her slim waist because she could hardly support herself, and kept pounding into her. She was in an incoherent daze, aware only that she was about to climax again and not sure if she could stand it. But before she could assemble the words, let alone voice them, she was swept away again. 

"I said enough, Caleb!" The sharp crack of a switch on flesh cut through the air. 

Rose tumbled to the floor, dropped by Caleb and unable to catch herself. She landed on her side, stunned, and could only look on in detached amazement as Elspeth lashed Caleb again. He turned to his sister, face furrowed in confusion, cock still jutting. Elspeth's angry demeanor changed when she saw that mighty weapon, bloodied from Rose's innocence. She took hold of it. 

"Poor little brother," she said in a sing-song tone that spoke of insanity. "Is this what's troubling you? Well, I'll make it all better, shall I?"

Caleb nodded fervently. Elspeth bent over him and swallowed up as much of his cock as she could fit, smearing her lips and cheeks with streaks like warpaint. Her head went up and down, and Caleb's back arched. His cry was an ape's gibbering howl. Rose saw him convulse, saw the pumping jets of his fluid spurt out and overflow Elspeth's mouth. It ran down her chin in gluey white strings and dripped onto the slopes of her breasts. 

** 

Chapter Six –

The transformation rippled through the body bound to the marble slab. Flesh shifted over bone, muscles pulled into new configurations, and when all was said and done, Celestian opened his eyes and they flashed in sapphire triumph. 

Varyk, still standing posed between the angel's thighs, raised an eyebrow sardonically. "And male and female He created them," the devil observed in a dry tone. "Tricky of you, very tricky."

"Now you shall release me," Celestian declared, his voice a resonant baritone. 

Breasts had been replaced by firm pectorals, his abdomen was taut and flat, his pelvis narrower above lean, long legs. At his groin, the opening that Varyk had threatened was gone in favor of a penis resting on a bed of curls, pale marble on gold. His shoulders had broadened, and his arms were those of a warrior who might brandish a blazing sword while leading the hosts of Heaven into battle. 

"Impressive," Varyk said. "You have, however, made one slight misapprehension."

"What's that?" the angel demanded.

Placing one hand on either side of Celestian's waist, leaning over him so that the sheaves of dark hair tickled on milky-smooth skin, Varyk whispered, "That I would lose interest in you once you were no longer female."