Angel 6

It was dark here. Too dark, really. So, she clapped her hands and a rosy pink flashlight appeared in them. She flicked the switch and the light came on, showing the tiny dirt footpath she’d nearly missed in the dark.

This was why she hated coming to Hell. All those rumors about Hell being a mass of burning souls were bunk. At least in this area.

Satan was really doing a great job with this place, though. He had tempted sixty-eight angels into becoming demons. Judging by the postcards they sent her, they were having a blast.

She was the only female angel in all of Heaven and proud of it. She was created right before Adam and Eve to staunch the Almighty’s almighty lust. It had turned out He was more of a voyeur type and so she’d fucked scores of male angels in front of him.

Then He created Adam and Eve, so she’d had a respite until the First Ones had died (Eve unfortunately becoming the first soul in Hell), and then she’d been called upon to relieve Adam.

Then had come Mary, the first human to successfully bear God’s son. Mary was the woman God continued to screw in Heaven, so she was free of that duty. But now she was stuck with a new, worse job.

She had been appointed sixty-ninth messenger to Hell.

It was pretty boring, actually. She’d already made numerous un-tempted trips down here, not even meeting her prior 68.

On Earth, it was around 2010, and souls were entering Hell by the busload. Heaven had had the same continuous tickle since Jesus died. Kind of like Graceland.

She’d followed the path through the first seven rings, and was now on the protected thoroughfare to Satan’s palace. It was naturally lined with heads whining things like, “I didn’t mean it!” or “My psychic said it was okay!” or “But it was insured!” Good intentions. Yecch.

In no time at all, it seemed, she’d reached the Gates where Cerberus- the three-headed spaniel of the Underworld- growled menacingly, one of his tongues lolling out of one of his mouths. She tossed him a bit of honeyed bread, and sauntered through the Gates, unharmed.

The hand that connected with her Egyptian-cotton-clad bottom disintegrated just as she felt the pleasurable sting of it. She turned, expecting to find a red-skinned imp nursing a charred hand. Instead, she was looking up into the leering green eyes of Satan himself.

Lucifer had been a wan-looking timid fellow when he fell. Now, after millennia of toil, he was massive, tanned and altogether too forward.

He held up the stump that had been his hand and it regenerated instantly. He grinned, his pointed teeth glistening like pearls in his tanned face.

“Welcome back to Hell, Lilith,” he said, his silky voice cascading over her in waves. He flexed his fingers. “Your protection enchantment is much stronger than it was last time.”

“I’m creating resistance,” she said haughtily. “Only beings I allow to touch me can.”

Satan grinned maliciously. It had been three centuries since he’d tempted an angel, the Lord’s only female angel would make an excellent demoness; especially with her flame-red hair, black eyes, and infinite sexual experience. “What an interesting… challenge.”

Lilith tossed her long ponytail over her shoulder, handing Satan God’s missive. He tore it to shreds and let the pieces fall to the ground, where they promptly sent off rainbow sparks and disintegrated.

“You didn’t even read it, Lucifer,” Lilith pouted. This was just what she needed. The Almighty wouldn’t like this; he’d been planning that Barbecue ever since Guy Fawkes was burned. Satan smiled, the electricity between them sending off small bolts of lightning.

“I can’t attend. I’ll be… busy.” He looked her over, taking in the Egyptian cotton halter sheath dress that clung deliciously to every one of her delectable curves; his glance roamed from the golden halo floating innocently above her head to the flat, Roman-style sandals gracing her feet and stopping insultingly at the low V of her décolletage and the high slit that showed her legs were just as silky and toned as the rest of her. “You know, Lilith, I never got to fuck you when I was in Heaven. Michael told me all about it, though. That’s what really made me decide to leave Heaven. That He wouldn’t let me have you.”

“He was just protecting you, Lucifer. You were His favorite.”

“Favorite my ass!” Lucifer’s eyes glowed as he worked himself up. But then he remembered who was in front of him, and quieted down. He motioned for her to step inside his palace.

She’d never been past the entrance hall, which was quite impressive: black marble floors (warm to the touch), intricately frescoed walls (poor Michelangelo- some rough business with the Pope) depicting all sorts of horrid punishments of sinners (as if one couldn’t venture out into the Rings to see that) and sheer silk-like drapes- red, of course, and made of the heartstrings of loyal witches (to honor them).

As they entered, a scantily clad woman appeared out of thin air. She was short and somewhat rotund, but the black dress she wore showed it was a Boticcellian plump. She had skin the color of chocolate and a curly mass of hair held out of her face by a gold band. Her eyes, strangely, were so light a blue as to be almost colorless. What belied her human form were the massive, black, dragon-like wings sprouted from her back.

“Ah, Eve,” Satan said, nodding to his Honored One (she was, after all, the first soul in Hades). “Would you kindly fetch us some drinks?” Eve nodded, beckoning an imp to her with a curved red nail.

A cherry leather sofa materialized below the Devil as he sat. When Lilith sat on thin air as he motioned she should, a high-backed chair appeared and she sat, and then leapt up again, her flapping wings bearing her up a few feet.

Satan was laughing uproariously, tears of mirth brimming in his eyes. She glared at the chair, seeing the black dildo protruding from it.

She was forced to sit on the sofa with the Devil.

Eve reappeared, bearing a tray of red, viscous drinks. She handed them each one, then flipped up her skirt and sat on the dildo chair, sighing quietly.

“So,” Lilith interrupted Satan’s lusty gaze at Eve’s writhing hips, “What are these things?” Satan returned his attention to her, smiling.

“Hell’s version of a Bloody Mary. The best Russian Vodka, a splash of Evil Kinevil’s Die, Piggy, Die Die! Hot Sauce and virgin’s blood. They’re quite good. And quite potent.” He took a sip of his drink and immediately began smoking at the ears.

“I’ll pass,” she said quaintly, setting her glass in midair. She’d always loved those little tricks. “About the Barbecue…”

“You won’t convince me to go… Unless…”

“Unless what?” She leaned towards him, batting her long eyelashes. It was on the tip of her tongue to say she’d do anything.

“You’d agree to become a demoness. And chaperone me to the Big Barbecue in the Sky.” The glass of Bloody Mary she was suspending fell to the floor and shattered, the resulting flames burning a good-sized hole in her dress.

“God damn it!” she exclaimed. The force of her words hit her and she let out a giggle, which turned into a chuckle, which had her roaring with laughter until her halo went askew. She noticed this and immediately sobered.

Eve had raised, her silent presence unnerving for Lilith, who was used to very doting (and vocal) souls. Eve left the hall through a painting of punishments for gluttons, Lilith followed, understanding she was meant to so she could change her dress. She came up short, however. The wall was solid.

“Open it,” she said flatly, turning to Satan.

“What?” he said, his innocent look mocking her.

“The portal.”

“It is open.”

“No, it’s not- aah!” She’d leaned against the wall to demonstrate her point, and fallen right through.

Eve was waiting for her in a lushly appointed bathing room. The walls were a mosaic of jungle animals, many now extinct. The room was lit with imported sunlight- the ceiling even had mosaic clouds. A small waterfall brought fresh water from the Mortal world to form a large sunken pool, complete with coy, lilies and mossy stones. This was obviously Eve’s sanctuary where she had been rumored to bear several demonic children.

An enormous day bed took up one side of the room. It was done in shades of teal, blue and green, and was flanked by two immobile, blind imps.

Eve smiled graciously at Lilith and clapped her hands. A massive wardrobe appeared; she flung open the doors and rummaged in it, finally finding the only article of white she possessed: it was a scrap of velvet that she flung away in disgust. She rummaged some more and found a small dress of green velvet. She handed it to Lilith and disappeared.

Lilith shimmied out of her burnt dress, tossing it to one of the blind imps and stretched the dress over her head. As she wrestled it over her hips, she noted that’s as far as it went. She clapped, and a sheer veil appeared to cover her legs to the ankles. Eve reappeared with a young girl clinging to her skirt.

“Your child?” Lilith asked politely. The girl was a dark-eyed replica of her mother, except she was outfitted in a sunny yellow pinafore.

“I am a mortal,” the child lisped. Her voice held a maturity her obvious young years should not have had. “I am called Hägar. I am born of Eve and Lucifer.” She curtsied prettily and stared up at the angel. “You are the Female Angel. Welcome.” Lilith looked skeptical and opened her mouth, but Eve ushered her through the portal back into the hall, Hägar staying in her mother’s bathing suite.

Lilith was abandoned with the Devil, who was playing air guitar with a tiny, bent man dressed in a neck ruff and oversize pantaloons. The screechy music emanating from thin air sounded like a teenager imitating Led Zeppelin on a broken Stratocaster.

She sat on the couch, tucking her feet under her and absent-mindedly sipped a Bloody Mary. Her halo dimmed and a spot appeared.

Satan turned to her, his green eyes catching on her impressive cleavage. “That’s one of Eve’s dresses isn’t it?”

“Yes, I wanted to ask-“

“You are a ravishing beauty!” the little man cried, genuflecting at her feet. “Your hair is like the sunrise, / soulless black are your wide eyes. / By your wings I can surmise/ where your beauty truly lies…/ betwixt your thighs!” Lilith drew her feet away from the man, whose crazed eyes glistened with a mischievous light, and who grinned up at her, his enormous ruffled collar bobbing with his quick breathing.

“Pay no mind to William,” Satan said, sitting beside her. “He only speaks the truth.” She glanced sharply at him over her glass. “When he’s here, anyway. It’s part of his eternal punishment.” Her halo dimmed another Watt as she blushed at what she hoped was praise.

“I wanted to ask-“ she began, but he held up a hand until the Bard wandered out aimlessly. “-About your daughter, Hägar. She’s mortal.”

“And…?”

“How is that possible? I mean…”

“Eve is no longer a soul. She’s a demoness. She can bear children, now. Hägar is our only daughter. We decided she’d be better off without wings.” He handed her a Bloody Mary, she slurped it down, steam pouring from her mouth.

Satan put his arm around her shoulders, ignoring the smoke being let off by his burning skin (it wasn’t as if Hell had no fires). She was letting down her guard. He passed her another drink, the lights dimming so he could monitor her halo.

Over the next hour, he plied her with Bloody Marys and baklava (her favorite food since sliced bread).

“I love Eve’s style,” she said shakily, stroking the green velvet covering her ribcage. “I wish I had dresses like this in Heaven.” The halo had numerous tarnishes, but the first piece crumbled away when she said that. Ah, Satan thought, Envy.

“This stuff is so good!” she said, stuffing in another piece of baklava. “Who made it?”

“Emeril. He arrived last week. Angry kitchen helpers, you know. BAM!”

“Well, I could eat this stuff forever!” Another bit of halo crumbled away. Satan didn’t bother hiding his calculating grin: Gluttony.

“I hear you’re His favorite,” Satan said. She glanced up from her fifteenth drink (angels can take a lot more strain than humans; their blood alcohol minimum is 0.22).

“I was. It’s Gabriel, at the moment. It should still be me, of course, because I was the one subjugated by all His kinky ideas.” Satan’s grin broadened. He loved when angels got mad at God. It was the prelude to a great fall from grace. And, he noted as another piece of halo fell away, that was Pride. Only four sins to go.

“What kind of kinky ideas?” he asked innocently. His pupils were dilating and pheromones were being subtly released into the air. His black silk shirt was unbuttoning until just the right amount of bronze skin showed.

“Oh, all sorts. Anal, double penetration, fellatio, &c. Actually, it was quite fun. Multiple orgasms, you know.” She had a glazed look, as if she could vividly remember every single climax (she could).

Lust.

It was rather arbitrary in Satan’s mind until the few bits of halo fell on the sofa, disintegrating in Hell’s enchantment. The Devil edged closer to her on the sofa. Her protective ring was halfway gone and he could safely touch her without bursting into a ball of flames (which really had no effect on him, but it was a damn inconvenience and singed off his eyebrows). He also noticed a large amount of snowy-white feathers were smoldering in a heap behind the sofa. She was well on her way down the Path of No Return.

“I feel like a few now,” she said nonchalantly. Immediately, the heartstring curtains fluttered around them and became opaque red walls in a medium-sized room with the sofa, her and Satan, who looked like a cat with cream. A table appeared, then lifted in the middle, folded into a chair, then finally molded itself into a black leather gynecologist’s examining table (at least that’s what it most resembled, with the bed part folded at a 45 degree angle).

She knew exactly what was meant by this and sat down at the fold, resting her legs in the leather stirrups, her skirt sliding down between her legs, hiding everything interesting.

Satan growled at her blatant sexuality and her obvious modesty. Her lust, however, was stronger than her modesty (after all, she was created as a sex toy) and her outfit promptly faded.

Lack of garments showed Lucifer what he’d never been allowed to see before: soft, pale flesh that glowed faintly pink, red hair (natural, naturally) that curled slightly at the apex of her plush thighs (for they were, God not being one to heed the fashionable “skin-and-bones” look; after all, it was all about well-rounded women for most of history, until some idiot invented corsets [he’s definitely in Hell]), slender ankles, wrists, neck, no belly-button, deep-colored nipples that topped generous breasts, and- what really set him off- a crumbling halo and molting wings.

He approached her, smelling the angel’s arousal. It reminded him of clouds and sticky buns.

Satan unzipped his designer black pants (Versace), and pulled out his hard, throbbing-

“How impersonal,” she pouted, stroking her perfect breasts. He smiled indulgently and dissolved his clothes. He stood before her, buck naked, his long erection protruding in front of him at a right angle. Just the right angle.

He was a bronze- erm- demon. His entire body was well muscled and chiseled in a way no human could be. His black hair hung in loose waves to his shoulders, accentuating his fires-of-Hell tan. His green eyes had deepened to emerald and glowed considerably.

She knew what it was like to be looked at by the Lord, Angels and Souls alike; but having the Prince of Darkness gazing at her with lust older than, well, Adam and Eve, was a new experience. Eve, who was somewhere in the palace right now. Oh, well, like the Rolling Stones said, You Can’t Always Get What You Want. Hmm, she thought, The Big Chill was a good movie. I wonder if William Holt is here.

“Focus,” he commanded quietly as he bent over her supine form, running his hands up her calves. Her train of thought- that was leading to a Six Degrees of Separation mind set- was abruptly brought down to Ear- Hell.

He was leaning over her, his breath hot on her neck when his lips met with the fluttering pulse at her throat.

“Lucifer.” His name bubbled from her throat like a breeze in the Garden. Her power was suddenly and abruptly manifested in a change of scenery: everything transformed into white onyx and golden pillows, while she and Satan remained suspended in the air, then a completely white bed emerged from the floor and supported them.

He was about to pull away to see what kind of havoc she’d wreaked, but Lilith hooked one leg around his and pulled him down on top of her. She arced into him, reveling in the rock of his hips against hers. He trailed his mouth over her jaw, down her neck, sending licks of sensual flame every place his lips touched.

They were so close, but not close enough for her. “Please.” She’d meant it as a command, but it came out a husky whisper.

He complied anyway; his head dipped to her dusky nipple, tugging on it with his lips, eliciting gasps from the angel. She gripped his head, pulling his mouth up to hers. Their lips met in a rough press, then a most sensitizing brush of lips, like their experience was made moot by the urgency of the kiss. Lilith stared into his glowing eyes, knowing her own shone a bright fuscia, and opened her mouth to allow his unholy passage.

Lucifer’s iron control gave out as her tongue flitted inside his mouth. With a deep thrust of his pelvis, he was inside her; their bodies melding, heat that rivaled the hottest Pits radiated from them both.

It was nothing like she’d ever experienced. Flames of desire shot along her nerves- literally. Her fingers clenched and unclenched in the sheets, scorching them lightly with released power. Satan set a quick pace; if the bed hadn’t been mystical, the springs would’ve been squeaking like there was no tomorrow (and, in fact, for that bed, there wasn’t).

His powerful thrusts quickly sent her over the edge. She was soaring, her nails digging into his back, her legs clamped around his waist, as wave after wave of orgasmic bliss swept her into oblivion.

Lucifer had orgasmed as well. It had not been as impressive as Lilith’s, however. It was as if her body was trying to draw the cum right out of him. He let it. He spewed into her, the room around them roiling and shifting with magic, the surging colors of the walls showing nightmarish shapes as imps, attracted to Lilith’s power, tried to enter through the protected walls. The glow of his eyes shined through his tightly clenched lids. A pillow on the bed combusted.

***

Lilith was laying on a cloud that was heavenly soft. A gentle glow shone through her lids. It smelled of sex and charred feathers.

Her eyes popped open, her hand feeling around on the bed as she adjusted to the glare of white onyx. She couldn’t believe anything could be so effulgent. As she sat up, nursing her ringing head, she noticed the scorch marks on the bed and floor- like there’d been an explosion (and, in a metaphorical sense, there had been); the sad remains of the pillows could now be described as “charcoal briquettes.”

She rolled off the bed, her natural grace completely wiped out, and she landed heavily on the floor. She hefted herself up, using the bed as leverage; then fell again, when part of the still-smoldering mattress crumbled in her hand.

She sat up again, rubbing her sore bottom, and hoisting herself up off the marble by a bit of intact mattress.

She stood unsteadily, her pale skin covered in a light dusting of ash, her russet hair swishing heavily around her shoulders. She needed to sit down.

Lilith wandered over to the lone chair, as pieces of the bed gave in to gravity. She sat down heavily, expelling a sigh of relief.