II: Meeting Master
Author's note:
This sequel was never intended to happen, but what the hell, it was too much fun to ignore!
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I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my new chambers and stretched upwards, curling my fingers towards the ceiling and then pushing them until my shoulders almost popped, my ribs shifted, my spine cracked and then I rose onto my toes until my calves clenched and a feeling of deliciousness trickled through my entire body and pooled in my huge new tits and my apparently constantly wet cunt.
Oooooh, yeahhhhhhhh.
Oh, fuck I was gorgeous. I looked hotter than a porn star but a lot more real. I had always been skinny, but on the other hand had never really needed to wear a bra. Now I didn't need to wear a bra, but only because they were so fucking firm that they were always in the right shape.
I dropped back onto my heels and grabbed my tits, far more than a handful each, and squeezed. The feeling shot straight to my cunt and made me want to go and find someone and fuck them until they were a drooling, unconscious mess.
Which was kind of odd, because normally that feeling would just make me masturbate then and there until I squirted, then go and see if I could go and find somebody to keep me going.
I guess that came from being Lust now, not just a nymphomaniac.
I looked at myself again, and wished away my horns (they vanished - not shrinking, not going out with a pop, just cleanly weren't there) and my tail (ditto) and my wide, satiny black wings (which surprised me by folding up, then again, then again, and then weren't there. Huh).
I bent over backwards, stretching, until I could grab my ankles. It felt even better, and I felt fluid running down my inner thighs.
I also saw, while bent over, a fat-bellied, bandy-legged, goat-hoofed, big-horned demon squatting in my doorway using both hands to wank a grotesquely extended cock.
I straightened up and turned around, feeling hair tickling my arse as it swished behind me.
The demon leered at me. "You want a good fucking, Mistress?" it asked, through a mouthful of crooked teeth.
I smiled sweetly at it, but I felt no attraction to mere demons - I needed either my father Satan himself, or humans to corrupt. Fucking the corrupted didn't help us win the eternal battle, now did it?
"No," I whispered. "Go back and bugger a soul."
It screamed with frustration but was gone, rushing away without really using either its wings or legs to move, fucking with physics as well as the damned. Watching too closely might give even my old body a migraine.
I turned back to the mirror, and had to remind myself not to stand there and wank, I looked so fucking edible.
I needed clothes, I suppose. Long slinky red dress? I've always wanted to be able to wear a long, slinky red dress and make it look awesome. Nah, not awesome enough.
I was the personification of lust, now. I needed to be a bit more ... blatant about it. Blatant. Yes. And how could lust be more sinful than perverted lust?
I grinned at myself in the mirror and imagined leather boots up to mid thigh, and gave them 5" heels. I imagined a corset that squeezed my waist by half and came up to just underneath my boobs. I imagined rings through both nipples - this new body had abandoned my old nipple rings, but I had always fucking loved those, it was like being constantly on the verge of horny. I put a chain between the rings. I gave myself a collar with 1" spikes, and leather gloves up to over my elbows. I debated what to wear on my bottoms for a while, then grinned at myself, and added a wide belt above my hips, with chains down to suspender hooks on the boots, and left my cunt completely bare. At the last moment, I remembered to put a ring through my clit, as well.
A mask and a riding crop completed the look. I smirked at myself, pivoted and stalked out the door, my heels sounding like gunshots on whatever demonic substance the floor was. It was time for my first proper meeting with daddy.
I knew I could simply transport myself there - don't ask me how I knew, I just knew - but I felt like walking.
When I stepped outside my door, I bumped right into Sheeba again. She grinned at me, giving off waves of avaricious greed, making me, just a little, want to tie her up in my room and keep her all for myself while whipping her breasts red and drinking from her cunt.
"Ah, there you are! Settling right in, I see. Off to see Lucifer?"
"Yes," I said, drawing out the sibilant to make it more sensual. I oozed up against her, fitting myself along the curves of her body, and dropped one hand to seize and squeeze the mound of her pussy inside her pencil skirt. "Can I convince you to distract me?"
She grinned back at me, nose to nose. "No," she said. "I told you, we don't work on each other. I'm greed, I don't have to care about sex."
"But you could."
"Yes, but it wouldn't be for my sake, it'd be for yours."
"Isn't it possible to sin twice at once?"
"I can see you're going to fit in nicely. But, I have an appointment to keep, and a point to make."
I shrugged, which made my breast move, which made hers move but, because she was wearing clothes, not very much. "Fair enough."
I straightened up and, just for the sake of it, whapped her across the arse with my riding crop. She grinned at me, and said "I'm so glad you agreed to joining us, Lucifer's libido has been making life so busy for the rest of us."
"That just sounds like I won't have any time to do my job."
"Oh no - sex with you is worth more than sex with the rest of us."
I oozed against her again. "I could give you some pointers."
"It's not technique, darling."
I gave up, but didn't feel frustrated. I could tell there was much more waiting for me.
I flicked her on one nipple with my riding crop, eliciting a satisfying yelp, and stalked off.
Hell opened out before me. We, the sins, lived in excessively opulent apartments (Glutony did the decorating, she's not just about food) in a ring around a shared living area and kitchen (we were all girls, after all). The doors each had a label in gothic script - not a name, the label. Greed - Sheeba - was next to me. The others, marching around the ring, read "Gluttony", "Sloth", "Wrath", "Envy" and "Pride". I'm not sure I wanted to meet all of them, exactly, but I felt I could get along with gluttony, who spent most of her time grotesquely fat and lying in a sedan chair carried on the shoulders of four souls whose crime in life had been to pursue bodybuilding to the exclusion of their families.
There was one more door, which looked just like the other doors, but read "Damnation" instead.
I took it.
The door opened onto a walkway, arching high above the pit of Hell, from which rose the roaring of fires, the cackling of punishing demons, the screams and sobs and entreaties of the damned, waves of alternating furnace-blast heat and absolute chill, and a cunt-clenching, stomach-tightening, knee-weakening wave of energy my body experienced as lust. I gasped, clutching at the spikily worked metal of the railing, and managed to not jam the handle of the riding crop far up inside myself.
I shivered and managed to compose myself and stand up. Oh man, if this was going to be my future, I couldn't wait to get there!
The other side of the walkway ended at the tall, impossibly thin tower soaring up through the middle of the pit of Hell. Our apartments were on the top of a sub-tower branching out so far below I could barely see it, yet still impossibly high above the floor.
I marched to the other end of the walkway and stepped through the arched doors straight into a well-equipped dungeon, and felt a surge of pure damned-soul energy that really did drive me to my knees.
All around me were souls being raped, or whipped, or forced through demonic powers of compulsion to engage in every sexual act the endlessly inventive human mind could dream up, and I felt the power of all that perversion feed straight into my new demonic soul and OH FUCK YEAH.