Please say no.

“So, I guess we could go to this party tonight…”

Come on, just say no.

“Or maybe just hang at your place?”

Even though it had all pre-arranged, the thought still gnawed at me. Yes, his answer was predetermined, the deal had already been struck, but the answer always seemed like this final chance to repent. 

They never did.

His soul bought and sold for one cardinal sin. 

Sex.

And I wasn’t worth it.

Because immediately after he agreed, I wished to feel something else. Anything other boredom at the same routine played out again and again across the eons. 

The dress had changed; corsets, furs, and cloaks traded for blue jeans and a tight crop top that drew attention away from his studies. Those classes had stayed the same through the centuries, just like my appearance, the universities never bothering to embrace a renaissance, imparting the same stale instruction through the same self-indulgent speeches. 

No wonder this virgin preferred to let his eyes linger on every curve as I stretched, showing just enough of my skin to attract a stare. Nothing too wicked, just enough for his twisted and tormented imaginings to truly take hold. 

I would dance around his dreams, an enticing flower ready to open without revealing the rancid rot dripping darkness out of my well-traveled soul.

Absently, I bit my lip, pretending at this posture, already knowing my role in our arrangement. He could still stop, even signed and sealed. A crossroads bargain meant nothing without the final deliverance.

But he wouldn’t.

They never did. 

He left me to endure the tedium of his torture courtship, not longer truly weighing the cost of his soul, barely noticing the details that might have saved him as one of the chosen. He wasn’t ugly, pock-marked, dimpled-chin, gangly and awkward, certainly depressed, his natural affections ground into the earth until downtrodden enough to accept any offer.

Had I really been so different? Or had the years slowly gnawed away every remnant of humanity until my blackened soul more closely resembled the beastly creature I served?

He reached for my breasts, cupping one before bothering with a kiss. And with such a small motion, he abandoned his last chance at confession. I could feel his manhood pressed against me, rubbing through his pants against my bare thigh. 

His soul was gone.

All that remained was the final act.

At first, I had been so ashamed; now I was only impatient.

In spite of myself, I dripped with excitement. The steady secretion of the centuries kept me on the perpetual edge of sexual fulfillment, the eternal denial of orgasm making me willing to endure anything for just a second’s respite. 

Hell remained inside myself, dripping down and down from my cunt, the entirety of my being transformed into this caustic cauldron of bubbling condemnation. 

He pulled up my shirt, my nipples bulging out roughly over the top of my brasserie. His inexperienced hands mauled as they moved, rough without any meaning.

So unlike Lilith. 

The dorm room burned away, blackened into sulfuric soot that clogged and coughed out of every opening. Even he disappeared, leaving me again wondering what happened to my true flesh after my spirit descended into perdition. Around me, the screams of eternal suffering echoed out against the empty caverns, the unseen devils delighting in each new torment. 

Above me, she stood every bit the Parisian beauty I had lusted after all those years ago. Her flowing dark hair spread down like a habit, draping over her shoulders. Her breasts billowed out above the same corset she’d worn, imprinting in my mind that original illusion. 

It was always how I saw her. And so often she appeared to me as Lily, recreating that ravishing tavern owner who made that original offer. 

Even now, truly knowing the hellish creature inhabiting that skin, more than just the broken pieces of me believed that I had gotten the better half of our deal. 

At least I was hers.

My mind spirited back to the time we had together, not quick and squalid like the man undressing back in the dorm. She had courted me, convinced me through a dozen conversations with our intertwined bodies cuddled beneath the furs. Our love had been hidden, forbidden, so deserving of damnation that when at long last the contract came it seemed so piddling against our love.

Then, before… oh there were weeks we secreted away from all the shame of society, stolen moments that truly made me believe that any circle of hell was worth her affection, no matter how couched in control.  

And still that idea remained, marking me as hers through my devoted attachment. I had no doubt there were others enduring the same endless torments, but none of them could mimic my feelings.

I looked up, knowing that unlike the billions of the unclean, I would be grateful for any attention my mistress deigned to give me, coveting each cruel mark. 

In her black eyes, I was able to imagine a wretch like me as someone truly special.

The chains appeared around my naked body, burning and freezing, coiled around my breasts and back, pulling me down onto the pentagram. 

There was cruelty, the searing metal pressing indents into my skin. The tightening manacles made taut crisscrosses around my body, pulling me down to the rock until I knelt in front of my mistress, my mouth open in greedy anticipation.

Because she could be so kind, that in itself created a more precise form of torment. Too much pain without a respite and the constant throbbing would turn the agony dull. So she saved a space for mercy, tender enough so that her fleeting moments of love transformed into the most heartless kind of hate. In this reminding me that after all this time, I still possessed the sheerest thread of a soul.

“Does my pet even desire her soul?” Lilith said. “I could give it back to your god.” 

My eyes lowered, unable to meet her cackling laugh.

“No. That’s already been offered. You won’t while there is this to worship.”

Her frock disappeared, her sex, dripping warmth like melted wax rippled in front of me, inviting, and yet I knew better. I wanted to stretch out my neck, my tongue tracing over my lips in eager anticipation. 

It was all I had through the centuries, no satisfaction except for hers, my body in complete subservience to our carnal contract. 

“Is this what you worship?”

“Yes, mistress.”

“Is this your god? Forsaking all others before me.”

“Yes mistress, none but you.”

“Not even your own cunt?”

“Anything mistress,” I groveled, sinking to complete suppliance, my face nestled against her feet. “Just let me please taste you again.”

She didn’t answer, her hands grabbing my blonde hair and pulling my head in between her legs. I could taste her, smoky and sweet, my tongue barely about to devour her essence before she started.

Her urine ran down my throat, burning like a river of molten gold. I screamed into her sex, the boiling, bubbling foam tearing its way down my esophagus. Little spigots were opened by the acidic lava, foam forced down onto my bare breasts as I whimpered in agony. She held me close, keeping my head held tightly against her thighs.

But I knew better than to move away.

Even after she had emptied her bladder, each of my tortured breaths felt like swallowing a lump of gravel, I still pursued my lips up against hers, offering my mangled mouth in service. 

The pain rescinded. The ethereal projection of my flesh reconstituted at her will so that the same tortures could be repeated again and again throughout the endless expanse of time.

The chain pulled, their impossible burning scorching into my breasts and thighs, bringing me prone at the feet of my mistress. My shins and knees scraped against the brimstone, a flaming bullwhip appearing into a claw-like hand. Lilith paced, slowly raking her nails across my cheeks, causing me to squirm against the restraints as the crimson marks ran down my thighs.

The smacks came without warning, replacing one flash of white-hot misery with another. The blows rained down in successive strikes, transforming the flesh from my buttocks into blackened crisscrossed welts. I whimpered at first, then screamed, all the while calling out the number of blows through barely articulate shrieks. The chains clattered, my hair sopping wet with perspiration, shaking and spasming along with every worn-out muscle. 

I shuddered again, the shooting stars of the final thrash eliciting in my the closest thing to a climax I was allowed to experience. 

It was the smallest solace of my existence. 

Without the promise of orgasm, pain had replaced pleasure as the only outlet of release, those repulsive ravagings replacing any sensual attempt at sating my sex. 

It left me limp, tremors surging against my swollen skin, the tears instantly sucked up by the sweltering sauna. But for a brief moment, the red marks across my ass quieted my clamoring cunt, replacing the need to cum with the satisfaction of expressing a more raw emotion, the pause all the comfort I needed for a second.

And then it was over…

Slick and slippery, my lips turned up their heat well-past the fires of hell, glistening at her touch. Claw-like fingers belonging to another form traced rough and prickly nails against my lips, spreading, entering, and scratching. 

But I didn’t scream.

I sucked in my lung, trying to remain still, not knowing the game.

Sometimes screaming and suffering made her agitated, awakening the memories of what she had been forced to endure at the hands of fallen angels. Other times, not begging for the end only made her increase the intensity. 

Not knowing what she wanted, I determined to suffer in silence, to hold on as long as I could until she evoked whatever response naturally.

First I flinched.

Then I did scream.

I could feel twin pricks, dotted with barbs, pounding inside of both holes. They forced their way into my anus and pussy, wide and forever long, pushing to the end of each, filling me past the point to what I could stretch. Her talons pierced into my hips, scratching as she bucked each of the monstrous cocks inside of my petite frame.

And though I had seen it a thousand times, her true form turned my veins into frozen lines, stiffening my body. Down from her thick thorns, black and yellow eyes peered into my soul. Her red breasts bounced pendulously as she fucked me with two spiked cocks that had replaced her pussy, a sex more precious than my soul.

That sight affected me more than the pain. I had already seen her true form, but the shock never left. The demon had crimson, buxom breasts, a curvy, femine waist, and dual cocks frightful in their quivering length, ribbed with points that dug into me with every rapid pump. 

It wasn’t the agony of being penetrated by a thousand cruel pricks, certainly other demons had torn my body to pieces inside and out. No, the sight of her transformed from my beautiful Lily into the gnarling, smirking demonic beast curdled my inside, twisting and nearly taming my overriding lust.

The chains brought me closer, my nails scraping against the rock, uselessly trying to pry myself away from her form. Her laugh boomed into my ears, then those curved and pointed teeth sunk into my shoulder, piercing into the flesh.

I wailed.

I wept.

It all stopped. 

The pain reached a zenith, the spreading sensation inside of my cunt climbing up to that pinnacle where my thoughts no longer could process the agony. Split in two, my anus and pussy poked and plunged open by these throbbing red dicks, I lost my mind. 

I forgot everything, relishing in the ravaging of my body, pounding my bare buttocks back against her thick and muscular legs. If my desire to be so tortured surprised her after all these years, she didn’t show it. Her claws were back around my thighs, pumping faster inside of me, time no longer having any meaning to me. 

I screamed in ecstasy. Thudding and trashing, shaking and slobbering tears and spitting out grateful nonsense through my barren throat. I was hers. A thing not claimed through coercion. Her pet. Something to be owned and possessed.

Like her, only lesser, but so much more than human. 

The real torment came after she flooded both of my well-worn orifices with cum, the steaming spray oozing down my thighs like a thick and burning wax. Delirious, drunk on sex and pain, everything then faded, stopping until hell disappeared.

Leaving me back in the dorm, in the same position on my hands and knees while the boy slammed into me.

Another hell, this one all the more profound by her absence. 

No perdition like the one we create ourselves. 

He was sloppy, clumsy, convinced that my cries of pain pushed up from that parallel pit somehow mimicked his own pleasure. His hands reaching forward, grabbing onto my breasts, pinching them at a rough angle that only annoyed me with its discomfort. 

Compared to even Lilith’s demonic form, his body seemed so revolting.

Or maybe it was just the act, being used as her part of the deal.

I hid my head, unable to look as he slammed into me too hard, his tepid touch more tortuous than a thousand whips.

“Oh god…”

It came out involuntarily, even after all these years.

“Oh my dear, Christos doesn’t seem to have the same interest in harlots.”

Her disembodied voice tickled my ear.

“I always thought it was more about selling his book anyways.” 

I moaned, feeling him closing in on finishing.

“Do you want more?”

“Yes, mistress.”

Did he hear me? 

He probably didn’t care, his eyes already nearly crossed at the point of his own climax.

“I think I can do better,” Lilith purred. “I want your worship. I am your goddess. No other gods before me and all the other trimmings”

“Yes… goddess, anything. Please!”

He pushed in deeper, his cock pounding then stopping, ready to ejaculate. 

“We can do better.”

She appeared, looking exactly like the innocent Lily. I was so transfixed, that I hadn’t noticed our return to that insidious circle. I threw myself onto her feet, licking and kissing, begging and pleading, promising my soul, and more to her. I wailed and wept, promised her my body, praying prostrate like an ancient pagan. My nose stayed on the brimstone, careless to the burns and scratches, lamenting my own useless sex and praising her perfect pussy.

“Thou mayest…” She said, holding back a giggle. 

My mouth met the sizzling musk of sex without any hesitation. I pushed past the pain, letting the piping hot juices pour down my lips and blister pieces of my tongue, only for it to heal again so as to repeat that initial agony. 

Everything, all of my being over these centuries, each touch, embrace, and stole soul all worth this privileged position in hell. 

She held me around the ears, not needing to direct me as my tongue tasted her sweet, burning sex, lapping up the molten gush that accompanied her climax. 

I didn’t stop, slurping and licking until I thought my bottom lip would disintegrate. She bucked, her thighs squeezing against me, showing me through countless subtle signs how I had pleased her. 

Lily pulled me back, my cheeks still raw and swollen with her juices. She looked down at me; naked, pitiful, and obsequious, having already granted me the mercy of worshiping her.

“You have to finish our deal,” Lilith growled, her wings growing out of that gorgeous body.

“Yes goddess,” I clamored. “Whatever you want.”

“Would you like another act of mercy?”

In front of me stood the hulking demon.

“Please Lily, whatever you want.”

“What I offered Adam.” 

His cock now seemed so insignificant compared to her arm, inserted holding something close to an apple. Stretching my lips open with her talons, she pushed her hand in with the fruit, fisting me with the length of her forearm until I passed out from another pseudo-climax, waking up back in the dorm room. 

Still feeling the invisible peach embedded in my aching cunt.

Each movement rammed the sphere deeper, but that wasn’t its true pain. The pounding of his cock forced free a half dozen ethereal spikes, imperceptible to the head poking out the ghostly pricks inside of me.

One last gift from my goddess.

He couldn’t see, couldn’t comprehend that the guttural groans of pain came only indirectly from his action. And for a white-hot second, I resented that this virgin sacrifice couldn’t discern between cries of pain and pleasure. 

Only neither could I.
Every time he pounded into me, the pressure extended the hidden needles, pushing them out further until I let out a piercing shriek. 

Unable to stop myself, I looked down between my legs, the sight making it worse.

From the inside of my cunt, four long and shimmering needles extended out of my pussy, the points peeking out through reddened lips. 

Another thrust and again I screamed, a loud bleating gale that made him stop thrusting, his cock twitching on the edge of ecstasy, the needles filling only me.

“Are you okay?”

It took me back.

Before fucking me, he had been a person. In bed, all men seemed the same. The gender always seemed so focused on their own needs that thousands of souls blended together in one singular sin, so easily seen as something only to be endured.

Still, sometimes the guilt would come shooting back, reminding of me the maleficent iniquity inherent in every interaction I had on earth. 

But worse was the empty feeling that returned as I begged him both to finish and to keep going. Like always, the self-reproach and shame all but evaporated, replaced by my own sinful needs. The pattern was so familiar, the internal monologue so well-rehearsed that each subsequent victim only shortened the steps to the same realization.

I was hers.

He stopped, burying his cock inside of me one more time. His hands pulled me close as I thrashed and collapsed from the pain. I could feel his seed spraying inside of me, the warm spurts slowing to a small trickle as he milked out the last drop of his soul. 

 But all that mattered was her, absent but still pulsing and vibrating into me through her forbidden fruit. The needles bristled, extending out of my cunt until I could feel their points puncturing my thighs. I had reached several pseudo-climaxes, delirious and drunk on my own torment. Now I could barely breathe, could barely think, wishing only to throw myself at her feet, to place my entire being again at her complete control to stop every moment of terrible introspection.

Breathing shallowly, I opened my eyes and saw her ankles. Lilith in her full demon form, appearing again to claim what was owed.

The deal was done.

Always there would be the remnant remorse for my role, for the trade of another’s life in exchange for my most wanton urges.

But in all these centuries, there had never been any real regret. 

This soul belonged to my goddess.