“Tell me what you want,” he breathed into her ear in a low, alluring tone.
She bit her lip.
He flicked his slippery, fiery tongue into her ear—enticingly tracing the lines of the outer cartilage before plunging in to ravage the orifice.
“Tell me, tell me what you want. Say it,” he demanded.
In a ragged voice as if it was torn from inside her, she cried, “Fuck me. Fuck my brains out!”
Grasping her hips, he dived into her hard like a rutting stag.
Her body involuntarily strained even more against the vines and she hated the way it arched towards him to relish in his humping reward. The cries that left her lips were not of hate, but of overwhelming desire. For the first time, the admission that she was his willing victim intruded upon her consciousness.
“I can’t stand you,” she hissed at her captor through a clenched jaw whilst her mind was screaming, More, more, more!
In and out.
Out and in.
She had to take it all.
Her utter powerlessness resurrected her once suppressed desire for domination, which had now burst into full fruit. As she heard the thrilling wet sounds of their flesh pounding into each other, she released herself to a crazed abandon. She rocked her hips faster and faster to his increasing pumping pace.
And then, they reached a crescendo as one. Her taut body jerked one last time as a tremendous orgasmic wave shot up from her g-spot to hit her heart, stopping it for an instant, before suffusing her brain with pleasurable satisfaction. She felt his juices shoot up deep inside her in an eruption that trembled and trembled and trembled. Time without end.
Later, he had untied her and was cradling her resting body in his arms whilst straddling one of the branches of the same tree. He was softly stroking up and down one of her arms, quiet and relaxed.
Ellen looked up into his cornflower blue eyes and ran the back of her hand down his face. Caught in the moment, she was compelled to say in a contented sigh, “That was just what I needed, Michael.” She must have said his name with an odd inflection. Even she started a little at her own voice. The sides of her lips quirked involuntarily.
He looked down at her with surprise and said, “This is the first time I have seen you smile, my Love. I know now what it means when your authors say that your hearts have burst.” He slowly touched his chest, as if unfamiliar with the movement, “I think I feel it now,” and his eyes shone back at her, “And it feels wonderful!”
He gathered her up in a great big hug. She embraced him fiercely back.
Chapter Nine
Escape
Ellen was standing in the middle of a field of drying grass that wavered slightly in the warm breeze. She was trying to summon enough courage to commit this deed that upon her choosing to do it, held no path of retreat whatsoever. She had to decide soon because, at any random moment now, Michael would return.
Michael.
What do you feel about him?
I need to get away from him.
Far, far away.
In short, this was an attempt to run away, not just from him, but also from any admissions her feelings would force her to make. None of them made sense—not to rational, logical her.
It seemed like just a few short moments ago when she was agitatedly pacing her room in front of that painting. Desperation clamored like raucous cymbals in her ears. Who can help me? Who else is there? There must be other beings—other angels! Who? Who?
Unconsciously placing a hand on the painting, a name came to her lips unbidden, “Gabriel.”
Of course, Gabriel! She had vague recollections from her childhood of stories of Gabriel, the guardian angel. As if summoned, a man suddenly appeared to her side in a flash of light. His burly form of suppressed monumental strength was barely held in check. Startled, she cried out, “Who are you?”
He replied with a slight quizzical tone, “You called me and gave me permission to enter the Sphere created by the Commander of the Hosts.”
“Gabriel?” she asked and at his nod of affirmation, asked, “So you can just appear in this—Sphere any time you want?”
“No,” he said with the patience of explaining the obvious, “only the creator of the Sphere and any guest of his can grant permission for another of the Host to enter by calling his name.”
Urgency strained her voice as she continued, “How do I get out of this Sphere?”
He gave her a blank look, then walked backward from her a few paces.
“Tell me,” she demanded, advancing upon him.
“Information, like everything else comes at a price, Daughter of Man,” he said stiffly. “But I will give you this for free.” He paused as if considering, or even censoring, what to divulge, before saying, “You, being what you are and where you are, cannot get out of this Sphere unless Michael permits it or—”
“Or what?” If she could tear out his hair, she would.
“Please summon my fellow Archangels, Raphael and Salaphael, so we can confer,” he requested bluntly.
Seeing no other choice before her, she did as he bid, calling their names.
Two male forms appeared before her—Raphael, a stunningly beautiful youth, bordering upon the effeminate and Salaphael, the tallest with the coldest gaze set upon a suavely handsome face.
The three exchanged glances and she knew without understanding how that they were conversing with each other by thought.
“Tell me,” she said.
All three turned their gazes upon her. It was Salaphael who spoke, “We want something from you in exchange for the information we can give you.”
“Anything,” she quickly snapped. “How do I get out of this Sphere?”
Raphael gave her a flirting smile as he replied, “No one can let you out except for Michael.” At this, despair nailed her to her knees and the rest of what he said washed over her, “There are two others—one you cannot approach unless It has summoned you first, and the second…” she missed the apprehensive look he passed the others, before finishing, “you really shouldn’t consider calling upon him.”
Now on her knees, she covered her face, as she wailed hopelessly, “How can I ever escape?”
Salaphael’s voice registered in her ears, “Raphael mentioned this last person upon whom you can call, Daughter of Man. He can get you out of this Sphere if you can give him something in return.”
Her head whirled up, “Who is he?”
The three Archangels again shared a quick look, before all cast their gazes on her.
“The fallen Lord of the Morning.”
“The Prince of Darkness.”
“Lucifer.”
She leaned back as if from an impact of a blow.
“Is that all you wish to ask?”
Dully, she nodded.
“Then, we now claim our price.”
She looked up at them again, stating, “Yes, your price. I have nothing of value to give you.”
“You have time and you have yourself. That is sufficient.”
As if in a dream, she surrendered herself. What choice do I have?
They came closer to surround her until the very air she breathed was their breaths and then, the entire world seemed barely big enough to contain all four of them. Closing her eyes, she knew not who did what, only that all three played their parts in a divine dance that seemed to go on and on. And on.
A warm body knelt down behind her kneeling form. His fingers pressed masterfully into her lower back, the strategic part where her bottom muscles ended and the muscles arching over her back began. Every bit of pressure he exerted shot through both sets of muscles, up and down, kindling her nether-region. As he did this, he tenderly kissed her shoulders and then along her neck, giving deeply drawn love-bites that would leave their mark upon her flesh.
The second man fondled her breasts in circular motions, massaging them with a resonance that vibrated with the increasing beat of her heart. At the same time, she sensed an intense tingling right b
etween her closed eyes, the sure precursor that his face was approaching. The lips that touched hers were sizzling and he flicked his tongue inside her. Each quick flick tentatively explored the inside of her mouth. Slowly, he entwined his wet tongue with hers, stroking it. Then he withdrew with a parting languid suck on her lower lip.
In the same instant, the third man was brushing his hands up and down her upper legs. He softly drew spiral patterns on the sensitive skin of the quivering insides of her thighs. She almost giggled. And felt her face flush at this. Then with his entire hand, he cupped her whole pussy, as if in an act of claiming her. Then he pushed a finger all the way in, feeling her wetness. Her whole body went rigid in response. She gasped as he pulled it out.
She felt them move around her without dropping pace, like dancers in a slow-motion erotic ballet. One spread her kneeling legs even wider and straddling his upper legs on her thighs, he seamlessly entered her slowly from the front, gently pressing into her swollen opening. At the same time, the thighs of the one kneeling behind her moved to encase both sides of her bottom as he slid gently by degrees into her rear orifice until he was all the way deep inside her. The sensation sent her crazy. She could feel both their impressive members plugging her up with only a thin tissue of her vaginal wall separating them. They wedged her body in their smoldering embraces, hot and hungry and writhing.
The third touched her face lightly and turned her head slightly to the right. He guided her right hand upwards so that it rested on his fully erect shaft and the inflated balls beneath. He was the only one of them standing, positioned close to her face. She gently squeezed his package. Hearing his indrawn breath, she swallowed his cock and sucked him. She heard him groan and felt him arch back. As she was doing this, the other two began to rhythmically thrust in and out of her. They withdrew and penetrated her simultaneously so that her g-spot was struck again and again from both ends—continuously and sumptuously.
The one behind her slithered his tongue into her right ear, setting the right side of her brain on fire. The one in front began sucking her left ear. All her orifices were filled. She had never ever felt so supremely complete. She knew not where her flesh began and where the others ended. They were inside her and around her—a gracefully entwined orgiastic mass of gyrating bodies.
Then, the point of no return. They sandwiched her tighter, both from the front and back as they plunged in and out of her with increasing speed. Even they were gasping now as they were propelled up and up to the pinnacle of physical ecstasy. Both her passages vibrated and heaved, receiving and receiving. Her taut body bounced repeatedly with the passion poured into it. Her vagina and rear passage contracted spasmodically together like a bashing of cymbals. Her heart skipped a beat as she reached a glorious climax.
Her mouth filled with his seed as the one she was pleasuring fell backwards. The two inside her erupted beautifully and riotously. Their heads flung back, faces etched with the most acute pleasure that could ever be attained. As one, they all fell onto their sides on top of the first man. All were spent, throbbing and glowing and sighing in their dramatic resolution.
All seemed like just a few short moments ago.
Now, she had to confront this.
With a clear voice, she uttered the name of Evil.
Chapter Ten
Hell
A portal opened, tearing a gaping hole like a screaming mouth in the fabric of the Sphere’s reality. Beyond the gateway was a black-ridged tunnel. Shadows of hideous, demonic shapes with blazing red eyes encircled the tunnel’s sides. Their malformed hands reached into the passage, as if trying to pierce the thin, waxy membrane. The floor was transparent, looking down into a raging sea of every spiteful and malicious form—tearing, gnawing and gnashing their broken teeth.
Her sight followed to the distant end of the passageway, where unsettled darkness swarmed. A voice boomed echoingly, “You called me, Daughter of Man. I invite you now to come into my realm.”
Steeling her resolve, she stepped through.
And she almost lurched at a different rate of gravity. With floating steps, she headed towards the darkness. As she penetrated the final veil of a revoltingly sticky amniotic curtain, she saw a giant chamber that was murkily lighted by crystalline shards embedded in the rock walls. Misshapen beings scuttled in and out of the rocks, emitting the disgusting sucking sounds of malnourished infants.
Before her was a set of twisted steps littered with dead ivy leaves that led up to a throne. The arms of the throne were carved of the living tissue of two grotesque gargoyles. Its back was a chimera caught in a perpetual scream as its flesh was unnaturally and painfully melded into that of the arms. Upon the throne and reveling in their anguish sat the form of a man, who was incongruously and incredibly handsome. His beauty dripped with lethal sensuality. With the hauteur of a peacock, he proudly spread wide his blackened wings.
He drank in the sight of her with voraciousness, as he petted one of the gargoyle’s heads.
“What is it you seek, Beautiful One?” his voice, now no longer booming, was husky, almost throaty as if it was perpetually raw.
Ellen firmed her voice, “I—I want to escape from Michael’s Sphere.”
The man-shape nodded slowly, each slight move exceedingly arousing with the promise of sweet, killing poison. He stated, “Yes, I have been most magnanimous in saving you the trouble of traveling through all the Circles of my realm into my Inner Circle
. It is my pleasure to aid you in any way possible to thwart him,” at this, his black eyes filled with a mad, mad hatred. It consumed him so much that he shook uncontrollably. All other movements made by the ghoulish creatures stopped completely and there was a dead, terrified silence. Finally, he managed to avert a fit of black rage to hiss sibilantly, “But my Dear, there is a price.”
She swallowed and nodded, “I know this.”
He enunciated each word meticulously with rising anticipation as he drank her sickened horror like it was the most divine wine. “You will surrender your freedom to me until such time as I release it back to you.” Then his voice hardened as he ordered, “Sit over there.”
She turned the way of his gesture and saw a large stone table materializing into existence. She sat on it hesitantly, feeling with a shiver the deathly frigidity of the hard surface.
Then she watched with horror as the man-form conjured into the air a harness. This was connected to a collar with straps studded all over with sharp spikes that glinted with malevolent glee. A single garishly large diamond appeared on the collar.
“Just the exquisite touch for you, my Sweet,” he purred.
Before she could even blink, he had moved from the dais to be standing right in front of her, his death-cold skin contaminating hers. She yelped. Her breath caught in her throat as he shoved her with smashing impact onto the table. As vertigo blurred her vision, she felt him strap the collar around her neck and, with a vindictive jerk, pulled it tight. Then he wrapped the harness around her. Within a couple of seconds, he had her arms bound tautly behind the small of her back and her ankles pulled up into a cramped position below her bottom. He looped a red sash through the harness strap above her shoulder blades and then slipped another sash to run between her legs, which rubbed loosely against her clit.
Then he hoisted her up with the sashes so she was hanging in mid-air above the table at an angle with her head tipping down and her bottom facing up. The sash between her legs tightened against the whole length of her pussy. She was so securely bound that she could not move an inch of her body.
He moved to the front of her, roughly fondling her pointed breasts with his ice cold hands, and then yanked her collar so that she was forced to look up into his cruel face.
“You might enjoy this,” he whispered harshly as he waved his left hand, into which appeared a wicked, black whip. He moved out of her line of vision. Her whole body tensed. Then she felt the sting of the whip across her back and knuckles.
“Ahhh,” she cried with shock.<
br />
With each lash, her body shook against her restraints. Her shoulders chafed tightly against the front sash. Her clit jerked deliciously against the sash between her legs. With each whip that cracked across her body, she wasn’t sure whether it was reaction or anticipation that forced her to revel in the rubbing motion between the slash and her excited button—sending waves of delight through her loins.
His voice filtered through the blood roaring in her head, “You want to be punished, don’t you? This is what you really wanted, isn’t it?”
She was close to coming with these exquisite movements, even though pain coursed through her limbs, which were tied at unnatural angles. Her whole body cried out against her maleficent scourging. Without warning, the sashes holding her up were released and she fell, thumping back onto the stone table.
With a furious roar, he was upon her, ripping away the straps to her ankles and splitting apart her legs with the violent intent of plunder.
“I will delight in pillaging the object upon which my arch-nemesis has spilled his lust,” he whispered jaggedly into her ear. His breath was ragingly hot as if inside him was a terrible furnace that relentlessly burned and burned.
He mounted her from behind, riding her, flogging her inside with his scorching cock, the only part of him that was not as cold as a corpse. He was driving her delirious with this chastisement. She deserved it.
He pulled up her collar, arching her neck up as he thoroughly conquered her, rasping, “Call me your Master, Slave.”
“Master,” she managed to rasp, “Master.” Then wickedness twisted inside her, “Is this the best that you can do?”
Then, he withdrew from her and she almost groaned with the let-down. Before she stiffened again as he proceeded to brutally sodomize her. If only this was the worst.
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