Saturday, August 2, 2014
The Churning Black: Chapter 4
"It will be our little secret," Selma said softly. I smiled down at her and nodded as she dipped her head to swallow my cock. Her mouth felt like velvet against Jordan's skin. She was young, even for him but what she lacked in experience was compensated for in exuberance. Selma didn't just want to make Jordan orgasm-- she wanted him to remember it for the rest of his life.
I gently stroked the side of her face and felt the head of my cock press against the inside of her cheek. Her nostrils flared as she drew in a deep breath and moaned. I smiled as the whole scene spread out in front of me. Selma, wrapped in her modest little white dress with her hair pulled back into a tight bun so her face would be easy to photograph--was intoxicating. When she bounced around the studio, Jordan watched her her small breasts defy gravity and found himself following the line of her calves up to the hem that dipped below her knees. The dress looked so primal hiked up to her waist, her panties just visible along the curve of her ass as she knelt in front of me. Her knees were spread wide, and her hips rocked slowly as if riding a lover's face.
The only light in the storeroom pooled where rows of shelves blocked the second-story windows. A chorus of laughter reverberated up the stairwell, and I watched splashes of color move between the cracks in the floorboards. I started to rock my hips gently in time with hers, and we found an easy rhythm that matched Selma's hands as they stroked my shaft.
The zipper at the base of her neck was easy to pull down, and my cock only slipped away from her lips long enough to shrug her shoulders. In that one subtle movement, her dress fell to her waist. Virgin-white lace hugged her breasts, pale handfuls in the dim light. She suckled on the end of Jordan's cock and reached lower to cup his balls. When we groaned, she smiled wickedly and ran her tongue up and down his shaft. She started humming softly, making his cock throb. Selma's palms collected the moisture leaking from the tip, and she started pumping his shaft again with her fist. I felt the orgasm start to churn deep withing me. Selma sensed it too, and her eyes smoldered with lust. She opened her mouth again, and when the moist heat slowly enveloped him again, we erupted.
Jordan's knees buckled, and as he slid to the floor, Selma kept her mouth on him. She kept pumping his shaft, swallowing everything he could give even as he fought to break free. She swallowed everything he had and didn't stop until her mother called from the bottom of the stairs. "You guys find it yet?"
Selma smiled wickedly and leaned up to kiss me. Her tongue was even hotter, and wetter, than before. She tasted like two frenzied animals now, instead of one. She wiped the corners of her mouth with the back of her hand and then snaked it down her delicate chest, and my eyes obediently followed her fingertips to the front of her wet panties. She started tapping her clit through the wet cotton just enough to tease herself, "I'm coming, Mother. I think I found what we were looking for."
"Do you need help?"
Selma smiled, a lopsided impish grin that never left Jordan's deflating cock that pulsed in time with his heartbeat. "I think I took care of it," she said, then whispered, "I did take care of it, didn't I?" She groaned as she shrugged back into her dress and fixed the zipper. Selma did accomplish her goal, because it was easily one of the most memorable experiences I'd had in a long while. Even so, I didn't wait to see how the rest of the day played out. I left Jordan panting on the storeroom floor as Selma bounced down the stairs.
I don't even know how long I'd been living among mortals. Like I mentioned before, time moves sideways outside of the Hells. There were secrets to be learned while living here, though. Simple truths... practical lessons that applied to anywhere. The one that kept surfacing lately was the key to keeping something secret: complete non-disclosure. There can be no witnesses, and you can never speak of it to anyone. Ever. Because even the smallest drop of truth can turn into a flood of anguish.
I wandered aimlessly for months after I spoke with Damnia, and I had never felt so utterly lost. Hundreds of years among mortals, and never once did I feel like time was against me. I had eternity to trudge through, and endless mile to walk, to earn my redemption. I missed my home-- I longed for my return, always--, but nothing compared to this. I felt like a battlefield General who couldn't see the front line-- reduced to a signature on a field order. The simple act of waiting ate at me more viciously than any measure of the Queen's wrath.
I tried to keep busy the only way I knew how, but even my most endearing hobbies were wrapped with hidden messages. It wasn't obvious at first, or maybe it was, but I was too preoccupied to notice. Either way, the messages eventually became painfully obvious. The more I floated between mortals and took my pleasures from wherever I chose, time and again, they were rooted in deceit, lies, and secrets...
When Veronica moaned, I dipped my head so my mouth could work down the line of her neck. She choked off a scream as my hands worked up under her shirt and found her naked breast. Under the dim kitchen lights, she looked paler than when she sat next to her husband in the living room. The firelight gave her a warm glow, but the soft compact florescent light made her look almost savage. She bit the back of her hand when my lips found her hard nipple. Veronica didn't reach for me, didn't want to believe she was a willing participant, but we both knew better. It was the hidden lust for her cousin that drew me to her in the first place. Casey needed no convincing. He watched her subtle movements, her playful glances. My subtle contribution was only the catalyst. When Veronica glanced over her shoulder at him on the way to the kitchen for another round of drinks, I pushed Casey to follow her. The rest followed naturally.
Veronica's breathing quickened as I flipped her around and pressed her against the wall. She gasped as she felt her pants get yanked to her waist. When she inhaled, she smelled her own sex, and she stared at the kitchen door. Her heart was thumping wildly in her chest, afraid her husband would walk in on them, waiting for the door to swing open at any second.
I only opened the front of Casey's pants enough to press his cock into her. His balls scraped against his zipper, hard enough to draw blood, but it kept him from cumming the instant his cock sank into her folds. Veronica thrust back and held her breath. I felt her clenching against him, pulling us in deeper at the same time. We could hear the fire crackling in the hearth on the other side of the door. It wouldn't be long until she was missed, and we all knew it. I pulled back and then thrust into her roughly, slamming my hips against her ass. I reached one of Casey's hands up under her shirt to hold onto one of her swinging breasts and came without warning. Veronica tried to scramble away from us, but I held onto her tightly until I was empty. I filled her, and didn't let go until I felt her start to drip down our thighs. She panted heavily as she reached for a dish towel. I felt Casey grin like a damned fool as he put his cock away. Veronica glared over her shoulder at him. "What the fuck were you thinking?" she hissed quietly.
"I was thinking, that I needed to fuck you."
"I meant cumming inside me..."
"I thought you needed that, too. It'll be our dirty little secret."
I left them to wrestle with the consequences. I had a revelation shortly after that, though. Secrets were just lies waiting to be discovered. There were a dozen other men and women I passed through while I waited for Damnia to find me. Each time I sated my lust it followed the same pattern, it played out a variation of the same scenario, the same message: people were indulgent with illicit affairs, hiding their feelings, keeping secrets...
I wandered aimlessly when my own dirty little secret caught up to me. I don't remember what city I was in, but it was big enough that I was able to lose myself in my thoughts for a few hours. I took control of a woman waiting for a train, someone at random. Now looking back, it may not have been so random-- she'd already left her purse by the bench, but instead of crossing the yellow line, we went for a walk.
Hours passed, and Cyra stayed remarkably silent. Her thoughts were muted, and a complete numbness filled her from her core out. Her memories felt full of emotional pain that she kept repressed, and some of it was even from herself. Regardless, she left me free to think. The afternoon sun slowly faded into neon, and the streets grew darker than I'd seen them in a long while. The asphalt pulled at the souls moving across their surface, and the night air felt like it was breathing. A chill swept into Cyra's bones that wouldn't end, and it started to make her skin crawl.
We crossed the main boulevard into a wooded park, and I turned us down a running path. I heard the alder leaves rustle, and I could actually feel the roots digging into the earth all around me. I felt the energies of the world growing-- something I hadn't sensed in eons. The path turned at a small fountain where two stone cherubs poured water onto a pair of sculpted lovers. The splashing water muffled the drone of the city.
I sighed when I felt them approach, stalking out of the darkness like cockroaches. The men wore business suits, and if it wasn't for the bloodstains covering their chests, it might have looked like they were on their way home from a late night at the office. The man on the left twitched when he pretended to exhale, and the one on the right couldn't keep his eyes straight.
"Beautiful night, your Highness..." the one with the twitch said. His voice sounded like gravel rubbing together. "Beautiful night for a stroll, eh?"
I felt a twinge of unnecessary panic race through the woman's chest. The two men spread out so my back faced the fountain. I glanced slowly between them, "You're a little far from home, don't you think?"
The one with the rolling eyes laughed, "I don't think he knows, Karzhi..."
"Shame, that, your Highness. I hate being the bearer of bad news."
The one with the rolling eyes started licking his teeth. He didn't seem to notice the drool flowing from the corner of his mouth. "Now, she is a tender little piece, Highness-- are you saving her for later?"
"Enough!" I called down a sound like thunder that shook the earth. It was a resonating chord that fused with reality. Every tree for miles stopped bending to the wind in answer to my call. Roots knotted and stretched under our feet; I could feel them coiling, waiting for a command. The only sound it left in the park was of the wood creaking. The men stopped short and looked around. They looked at me with a mix of awe and terror and then started to back up.
"You obviously like games, so let's play one of mine." I said. The men bolted, each turning to run in opposite directions, but I did not allow it. A dozen roots burst up through the footpath, each as thick as a suspension cable. Before the cement even hit the ground, the thick coils wrapped themselves around each demon and started to pull their limbs to the breaking point. When the bodies snapped apart, the roots dropped the pieces and lashed themselves to the shadowed souls that leaked from the carcasses.
Cyra's mind shut down, and I felt her consciousness drift into blissful catatonia. I focused on the roots again, and they constricted impossibly tight. I stopped them at the threshold of annihilation and pulled them both closer to me so their twisting, mottled faces were level with mine. "Explain yourselves, immediately..."
Their faces were wrapped in roots-- distorted, agonized--, and the demon who'd possessed the lazy eye mewled like a crippled dog. It started to speak, but the other demon, whose body twitched, hissed at him until he fell silent. I glared at him before I let the roots pull him under. "I will not repeat myself."
The lazy eye groaned again as the other demon was consumed by the earth. I squeezed the remaining demon slowly until I felt his soul being crushed. "I beg you, Lord... please--!"
No. The demons weren't there out of malice. There was nothing to learn from interrogation. They were loosed upon the world and smelled blood, nothing more. I pulled him down, too. I let the earth swallow them both, crush them like twigs and devour them. When I closed my eyes, I could feel more like them out in the distance, sniffing at the air like a pack of dogs and baying at the moon. Demons awakened all over the city, all over the planet, even worlds beyond.
A chime rang somewhere in the distance, and I froze. I never meant to keep Cyra so long, and I suddenly didn't want her to die. Another chime, and I braced for the inevitable, but instead of feeling the transformation start to rip through me, I only felt a slight reverberation within my soul. The rest of the bells tolled in vain.
I reached my will into the ether-- I needed to know. I needed to feel the distant connection I cherished with the Hells, and I was met with nothing. It stirred against my senses, and I left Cyra by the fountain. She slumped to the ground while my spirit gathered like a storm cloud above her. I turned in a slow circle and made myself whole. I crafted my shape out of a distant memory and took a deep breath that pulled the essence of the world into me. Every sight, every sound... I was spirit made whole again, finally, after millennium of walking between shadows.
I looked down at Cyra, the first woman I saw with my own eyes. I didn't put much thought into it before, but now... I knew without a doubt that the tides of power were shifting. Cyra slept while I carried her back to her small apartment. She'd cleaned it before leaving for the train station, and I saw a note stuck to her refrigerator with a picture magnet. All it said was, 'Sorry Mom.'
I set her down gently on the couch and stared out the window toward the horizon. The clouds swirled in the distance, and I saw faces shift and transform. I let my mind wander, and I searched the ether, stalking the thin veil between worlds. I felt my consciousness stretch until it was swallowed by the void.
I heard a startled gasp behind me, then a soft "Who are you?"
I turned around so I could lean against the window. The glass felt cool against my shoulders. "I'm the reason you missed your train."
Cyra blinked and looked around her apartment.
She looked at the door and then down at herself. "My purse..." She looked at the door again. It was still locked. "How did we get in?"
I smiled as gently as I could. "Your mother is worried about you. You should call her."
She glanced up at me and her eyes darted between mine as if searching for some measure of reassurance, an explanation. "Are you an Angel?"
I laughed, and it felt amazing. As much as I hated to admit it, Syra was right: I lived among mortals for far too long. I began thinking like them, adapting to their world. Even unconsciously, I let myself be adapted by their perceptions, a puzzle piece made to fit their world instead of mine. On the other hand, what was the truth worth, really. It was relative, I suppose. I smiled at her again, and this time, I saw a soft rose color rise to her cheeks. "Something like that."