Demonagogue

•THE TOWER OF HOLOCAUST, HEL

[🎶 Mask Off – Future.]

Lilith Firstborn sat on a sprawling throne of shadows and obsidian—not the color, the plutonic glass. The unearthly black crystals could only be harvested in the nether regions of the underworld. Her robes were a vast purple and rolled down the dark stone of her throne. Stalactites on which grim skulls were impaled rose up the dais round about. Her throne was twenty feet high and half that across, her shocking goth beauty nearly swallowed in the cursed seat.

Lilith's pale fingers extended into curved nails that were more of claws, the mere touch of it sharper than an Arcadian scorpion's sting and it's poison more cruel than the green atter of a viper. She was an extremely attractive demoness. Her pale purple irises were soft, her skin glowing like steamed milk in morning tea, her lips the shape of bows and fuchsia pink. She was crazy beautiful. And the daintiness of her calm poise was terrifyingly hypnotic.

No eye, male or female, saw her and didn't think of how it would feel to just reach out even a bit and touch the prodigious curves on her. She had what her nephew, Israfel called 'proper woman thighs', and her generous ass was decidedly Abba-esque.

Her rich, royal purple gown matched her eyes and long hair. On this sombre night, she wore it down and around in a fat braid. Onyx jewels were embedded in and sparkled against her alabaster skin. Her raven hair was full and went curling around her neck, back to front like a sleeping python. And she could animate it if she so desired. The ends of her hair cut into her milky cleavage, tantalizingly sandwiched into the pressing together of her matronly breasts.

The Tower of Holocaust was her dark castle. The roof on it had been ripped off by her horrendous and frightful Familiar, a Black Dragon of the [Ninth Lunar Circle]: the highest attained rank of a mythical beast. Since its mistress was a [Rank S] Principality, of the arcane divinities called The Fallen, it made total sense for her pet to also be of evil greatness. The Dragon's crimson eyes stared out into the plains of burning pools and dark lands beyond her castle. It perched on a spire, its gigantic tail curled around the pillar, an infernal bloodthirsty gaze literally begging to roast someone.

The creature was nearly the size of the black tower itself. A single scale from its immense, serrated body was large as a plate for serving. And when it folded in on itself, it loomed like a small hill.

The Archdemoness on her throne curled her sensual talons around the seat's armrests. She pushed a finger into an eye socket of the macabre skull topping it. Lilith's dress revealed all. The super delicious outline of her motherly bosom and the nirvana at the apex of her full thighs. Her legs were crossed on the dark throne and the trace of her slit could be seen, a warm dipping of her gown into paradise. The devious spills of her dress gathered between her legs. It nestled her pussy.

Above, a full but wan moon flooded the thick clouds of Hel with silver unholy light. Slanting rays poured down through the torn roof of the tower. It kissed her throne and romanced her lush body. In the moonlight, the low cut of her gown was haloed; her sinful silk dress, sleeveless and held up by only a strap behind at her nape, rushing in purple Roman material, uncovered at the erotic valley of her large breasts, cinching at her waist by a bead of pure gold, falling as a waterfall to cascade down the stone steps to her throne, the brazen slit on it running up into her ripe thighs and shadow of a sex one could smell on the fucking wind.

Lilith's feet were appareled in pencil heels. The shiny black stilts scraped the stone steps and outward spikes designed the straps that held the shoes to her ankles. These spiked straps ran halfway up her fine gazelle legs. Under the moon's shadow, a great umbrae of her mighty golden horns were revealed. It curved out the front of her dark hair. It didn't distract from her beauty, if anything, it granted to it a sadistic edge few could resist.

Lilith smiled to herself, her sparkling white teeth flashing as she remembered once when her nephew had clutched to those very horns and rode her bareback like a damned pony.

Her Israfel, she mused. What a superb lover?

"I have to make sure to visit him soon," she thought aloud. "If not for anything, for a torrid CNC."

[CNC: Consensual Non-consent. A form of sex play that imitates rape. Not the actual action, but close enough, always usually marked by rough and demented fucking.]

Lilith's Familiar, the Black Dragon above lifted its scaly head when it sighted an intruder walking up into the dark fortress. It sent out great black wings and screeched to the skies with a mighty howl that sent a few clouds skittering. Lilith blinked her lilac eyes and said,

"Now, now, my pet. He was invited."

The dragon quietened and folded back its bony wings, just as a mysterious man in a clean but worn priest's cassock padded through the gigantic doors of the tower. The visitor moved with clicking sounds of [Common] Adventurer sandals across the robust throne room. The tower's innards were like a chessboard brought to life. It had stretching black and white tiles. The moonlight shimmered off it. This priestly man bent the knees at the foot of Lilith's grand throne.

The Demoness clicked her tongue, annoyed.

"You're late."

The prostrated man clutched to the rosary beads twined over his fingers. He never raised his gaze as he began to explain his tardiness.

"Apologies, Your Eminence. Thou must look upon thine servant with a forgiving eye. You see, Matriarch, I happened upon Lord Morningstar and the god, Astraeus spitroasting mercilessly a naked female. They are at this moment engaged in an orgy at The Wormwood Tower. Thine servant wast sidetracked there for a bit. It seems, lovable Mistress, that I have not gotten rid of my lewd mortal inclinations to observe. 'Tis a sick lustfulness that has abode with me even now five hundred years of my damnation. The very sin of my heart that had condemned my soul to the perdition of this realm. If you hadn't claimed me as yours, Your Eminence, I fear the Tormentors would have rent the sanity from my soul."

"Enough excuses, Eusebius!" Lilith snapped. "I sometimes forget you were a Catholic scholar in your mortal life. Just tell me, do you have it?"

The man, this Eusebius by name—bonded to Lilith as one of her higher slaves—unfolded from his black cassock an ancient Crucifix.

He whispered darkly in the gothic tower, "Imbued in the powers of the Holy One, as sacred as the Holy Grail and more powerful than a Seraph's kiss. You'd find nothing more suitable for exorcism, Your Eminence. I present to you, thou Queen of the Night, the Demonagogue!"

Lilith smiled as he bowed and handed it over. She fondled the weighted cross in her palm.

"Seems a little light for a relic possessing such Divine power. The aura is extremely anointed though, I can sense it. Blessed by the Archangels no less. I can smell the sanctimonious holiness and virtue all over it. Shame! It's in my hands now."

Lilith laughed a syrupy dangerous sound. She continued, "How many Templar Knights did you have to kill for this, Eusebius?"

The fallen scholar finally lifted up his eyes. They were robbed of every mortal essence and smoke puffed out of the ashen sockets. Like swirls of a smoked cigar, his eyes leaked sulphur and brimstone. Eusebius replied in a weird happy slur.

"A denarii of Holy Cardinals I tortured, Your Eminence. And eighteen hundred Knights I killed."

"Fuck!" Lilith mumbled. "In three days?"

She smiled warmly at the man. She looked again to the crucifix, fingering the old cedarwood of the relic as she spoke once more.

"You have been faithful, dear Eusebius. This Demonagogue will help us fell out adversary. My nephew, Israfel is among the mortals and knows not what awaits their realm. But I see it coming...the Great War for dominion. As in the beginning, it shall be. But this time, I shall be prepared. This cross is my compromise. As Israfel is the Promised One."

Lilith turned to Eusebius with a seductive glaze in her divine eyes. The voice of the gorgeous Archdemoness dipped several octaves as she slithered like serpent.

"Go on, faithful Eusebius. Take your reward."

Lilith uncrossed her legs on the throne. Eusebius's fingers fell from fisting his rosary as his Mistress's thighs came apart. He could not see much of what lay in between them, but the silhouette of sliding, warm fat flesh was enough to imagine the damp curls of her sex. Her sweet scent filled his nostrils and just for once, Eusebius was not sorry he missed Heaven. In Hel, was another paradise gained.

He stared with smoke pouring out his eyes as Lilith stretched out one of her legs. The slit on her royal purple fell to the side, revealing up to the juncture where her creamy thigh met with her wide hips. Eusebius was gulping in all traces of her feminine musk on the wind. Lilith put out her heeled leg.

"Thine servant thanks thee, Your Eminence," Eusebius said and moved forward.

He approached her throne like he once did an altar, so many years ago. He took hold of her long leg. He cradled her feet like a chalice of Eucharist. He was careful with the spikes on her stiletto—though he wouldn't mind if she drew blood. He unclasped the silvery latch on the designer straps and gingerly, he pulled away the heel.

"Divine." Eusebius gasped.

Lilith's feet were glorious. Her nails were painted purple. A small tattoo of bramble thorns rising over her toes. Eusebius took hold of her ankles in both hands. He knelt at her feet. He could feel his Mistress's demonic eyes warm on him from above. His goddess was beautiful. His goddess was powerful. His goddess was the Queen of the Night. And poor, corrupted Eusebius's soul loved to serve her.

"Suck, slave!" Lilith commanded from her great throne.

At the foot of it, Eusebius cradled her foot in his hands, like a vial of [Holy Water]. He kissed each one of her toes first, and then slowly began to suck on the big one. He licked the feet of his Mistress.

Above on her throne, Lilith watched him for a moment. He was good with his mouth. She let him enjoy his foot fetish for a long while. She caressed his gray hair with one hand and fingered her stolen Demonagogue with the other.

"There, there now, faithful Eusebius."

In her dark tower, Lilith's voice was a malady of dark pleasures.