Ariel listened to the cacophony of the voices buzzing in her head, all the evil, perverse (and potentially delightful) thoughts that emanated from the pedestrians as they scurried around her in their haste to return to the hellholes that were their jobs. Her mind was never left alone. She even walked in their dreams, traipsing through the humans' darkest fantasies, so that she was denied true sleep. She felt all their suffering, hate, lust, and greed. But sometimes she tasted the intense joy they experienced, and that's what made it all worthwhile. For now.
She tried to give these creatures what they enjoyed, such as yesterday, when she dragged an involuntarily celibate businessman into an alley and gave him the blowjob of his dreams, no questions asked. She was spreading joy in the world by fulfilling one sick, demented and twisted fantasy at a time. Of course, through her telepathic link she herself experienced the full intensity of the pleasure she gave her "clients." She wasn't in this business for nothing. However, mere blowjobs no longer did the trick for her. She needed more and more, fulfillment of the darkest fantasies these humans could spin.
It wasn't always this way. In the old days (i.e., Biblical times), angels swooped down on Earth and kicked some serious ass on a regular basis. Now the few of them left on this planet were stranded in a Godless world. Nobody really knew where the Big Guy had gone. Some said to a promising planet in another galaxy, but most thought that He was traveling back in time, all the way back to the Big Bang, in order to rethink things and maybe get it right next time with a few minor adjustments.
It didn't much matter where He had gone. The angels were stranded on this literally Godforsaken mudball of a planet, separated forever from contact with Divine Perfection. Now Ariel was left with only her telepathy and her ability to alter her appearance at will as pathetic remnants of her former divine powers.
Today as she walked down the street, she attracted far fewer wolf whistles than usual. That was due to her appearance. She had taken on the form of a 6' 3" bull dyke, complete with motorcycle jacket and black tee shirt, topped off with a Marlon Brand 1950s style motorcycle hat covering her buzz-cut hair. She was going to make a house call on a certain Freddy Black and she needed to look like his dream woman. She had studied the part for three nights now, trawling through his dreams to seek out his darkest fantasies.
She crossed the street and entered the tenement house, walking up four flights and then knocking on Black's door.
Freddy Black opened the door and there stood the woman of his dreams. "It can't be," he said, "you're not real."
"Shut up, fat boy. When did I ever ask you to talk? Just get it out," Ariel said, her eyes indicating the top drawer of Freddy's bureau. Freddy walked over and pulled the 8" double dildo out of the drawer and handed it to her. She held it up, admiring its craftsmanship, right down to the veins on its cocks and the realistic detail of the ceramic balls.
"You have been a bad boy," Ariel said, "a very bad boy. Now take it off, take it all off. You know what happens to bad boys."
Freddy unbuckled his pants and let them fall to the floor. He wriggled out of his boxer shorts and pulled his moth-eaten strap tee shirt over his head.
"You know what to do," Ariel told him.
Freddy climbed up on the bed and assumed the position, kneeling with his legs spread, his hairy ass in the air, his face down on the dirty sheet, his hands spreading his ass for her.
Ariel quickly shed her clothes, running her hands down her unfamiliar beer gut, which she had donned for Freddy's sake. She began lubricating the dildo with the little Vaseline that remained in Freddy's jar.
"You have really disappointed Mommy," she said as she slowly shoved one of the dildo cocks into her own cunt, burying it in her right up to the testicles hilt. She could feel Freddy's pleasure of anticipation running through her telepathic mind. He was consciously thinking "please do it slowly," but in the depths of his soul he wanted her to shove it into him as hard as she could, and shove it she did, ramming the second cock all the way up his well-traveled passage. Then she slid it out and shoved it in again, the balls of the dildo colliding with Freddy's balls with each forward thrust.
She moved her hands underneath him to grab his cock and balls. With her left hand, she began to massage and squeeze his balls while her right hand alternately squeezed and released his cock. She bent over him so that her pendulous breasts brushed against the skin of his hairy back with each thrust. She began to lick his upper spinal column as she continued to thrust into him. She could feel Freddy's pleasure mounting, riding each wave of his ecstasy, each more powerful that the last.
Freddy's cock grew to even bigger dimensions in her hand as she thrust into him more and more violently. She felt the veins in his cock grow bigger still, and she began to slide her hand up and down that organ as though it were a pump-action shotgun and she were surrounded by hungry zombies. She squeezed his balls even harder as she rode him and worked the skin of his cock harder and harder. The pleasure she felt with her telepathic powers, Freddy's pleasure, grew more and more intense until she felt his balls jump in her hand and felt his body grow taught, as she buried the dildo within him (and within her) just as he poured his cum onto the sheet and all over her hand. Then Freddy just lay in the bed, whimpering with delight, and tears filled her own eyes as she felt his ecstasy course through her.
She reached down to wipe a tear from Freddy's cheek. She whispered into his ear, "Ssh. It's OK, honey, Mommy's here."
"Will you come back?" he asked her in a trembling voice
"I'm sorry, honey, it's not allowed. I will always love you and surround you, but I can only be here in the flesh this one time. But I can stay with you now for a while. We can just lie here for a while if you like," she said, resting her head on Freddy's back and wrapping her arms around him and listening to his sobs, faint against the sound of passing traffic.
The next night, Ariel climbed into the bedroom window of a prematurely balding computer geek by the name of Alphonse Gilopski, whose intense dreams she had been sharing for over a fortnight. She was dressed as a ninja to disguise her approach.
As she entered the bedroom, she saw that (predictably enough) Gilopski was wearing his Darth Vader helmet, the one with the voice synthesizer.
"Who goes there?" James Earl Jones' sonorous voice asked her from beneath the mask.
In response, she tore off her ninja outfit and stood before him, as Princess Leia in her finest Jabba-the-Hutt-styled copper bikini, her firm stomach muscles complemented by an emerald in her belly button, her tanned and lithe legs poorly concealed by a red silk loincloth. She walked over to Gilopski's bureau and retrieved the light saber from the top shelf. She flicked it on, pointed it at Gilopski's throat and began to advance menacingly toward him.
Darth / Gilopski raised his arm in warning, and spoke in his thunderous voice, "I am your father, Leia."
"I know, and you have been a very bad Daddy. Abandoning me so that you could fool around with the dark side of the Force. You need to be punished," Ariel said in her best Betty Boop / Mae West / Shirley Temple voice. She backed him to the bed and tossed him the handcuffs. "Here, put these on, one on each hand."
Gilopski obeyed her command.
