Death Love Lust_A Naughty Bedtime Story Anthology

by Aurelia Fray

A strong black soul invades me, strengthening my body, demanding my attention. On the surface, the human appears to be like any other. He wears casual clothing of his time, but his soul is old, sinister, and abominable.

  I follow.

  He leads me through London taking me past nightclubs with scantily clad females, lustful males, lost and lonely souls. He, too, searches for prey. Anger taints his heart. Hate drives him further. When he is alone, I strike, using the talisman to tear the wicked spirit from his body. He feels no pain, for that comes later when Lilith devours him.

  Now, I must find a female. They’re harder to find, but more satisfying to my master. Keeping a tight grip around the talisman, I resume my efforts among the packs of human nightwalkers. They’re abundant, joyful, and alive. Staying hidden is simple for I’m a shadow, the humans cannot see me.

  I stand on the corner of a busy street, inhaling the scent of souls, growing sicker. The evil inside me isn’t as strong as the light. I sense a dark female. Her anger has tainted her heart, her soul. She is adrift in an ocean of uncertainty.

  Taking a female soul prays upon my mind for they’re givers of life, sacred, worthy of worship. They shouldn’t be stripped of their souls unless they are as black as night. The one I follow won’t satisfy my master, there is good within.

  I don’t take her; instead, I search for another male, hoping to find a strong one to appease Lilith.

  ***

  “Your souls, master.” I bow my head, offering the talisman by its iron chain.

  “You fail me yet again, slave.” Her icy tone isn’t lost on me. I know what she will do and accept my fate. The penalty serves to arouse her rather than torture me. She knows my inhuman threshold for pain. Obediently, I strip the tattered tunic from my body. She purrs, elegantly rising from her death chair. With a swipe of her hand, she tacks me to the wall, arms pinned above my head, chained by invisible, unbreakable bonds. She comes to me, her black tongue sliding along garnet lips.

  When she touches me, her evil turns me to granite. I absorb the sinful lust for death and destruction, for it’s the only way to survive the beatings. Finger-like claws rip at the flesh of my chest. She licks the black blood oozing from the wound, instantly arousing my body. I despise her.

  “You taste of light, Kole, why do you not heed me?”

  “Forgive me.”

  Lilith slaps me, drawing blood from my lip. Her mouth consumes mine, a serpent’s kiss of need. She strips the leggings, rendering me nude, hard, ready for her use. After she takes her rage out with her claws, I burn with lust. The punishment continues with a flail, puncturing holes into my battle-ridden body. When I go limp in my phantom chains, she walks away. Not from the damage do I falter, it is from want. The more she beats me, touches me, or tastes me, the more my body wants her. Pleasure and pain are one. It is how she controls me.

  “These souls will do. Best you be healed upon my return.”

  “By your wish, master.”

  The demon leaves me bound, unable to find my release. From the darkness, I hear the screams of the liberated souls as she feeds. The excruciating shrieks fill my veins with black ice. I become engorged with ruthless desire.

  Lilith takes her time with the souls, taunting me, for I feel them growing stronger inside her. Once the screams falter and she’s full, she returns to me, ready to take her pleasure.

  Her naked form radiates with darkness. Were it not for her gray skin and crimson eyes, she could be human.

  “The males’ essences will save you from further thrashing. They were quite strong.” Lilith slinks across the room. Her breasts, high and full, jostle ever so slightly. Raven hair sweeps the ground in her wake. The sway of her hips hypnotizes me. I cannot turn away. “Speak your desire, slave.”

  “Release, master.”

  “How?”

  Meeting her gaze stiffens my body. She is ripe with need, overflowing with malevolence, and her aroma suffocates the air around me. I do not answer. Lilith will do as she wants. Closer she comes. Her acid breath contaminates my skin. The vile souls she consumed writhe through her, mocking my declining will.

  When she touches me, I die a hundred more deaths. I want. I crave. I loathe this curse. Evil should not breed pleasure. Clenching my jaw brings no respite yet draws an ominous laugh from her throat.

  “Oh, Kole, will you ever learn? Do you touch the light hoping to save yourself?”

  “No, master.”

  “Then why torment yourself and absorb them?”

  “To find your dark ones.” My lie brings a razor-sharp smile to her face. Light Sickness reminds me I’m alive—or once was and helps me to remember that there is goodness left in the natural world. A hope I cling to every moment of every day of my pathetic existence.

  “Then you suffer for me?”

  “No, master.”

  Her cold fingers seize my length. I cannot stifle the groan. My hips push forward greedily against my resolve. Lilith strokes me, forcing a cry from my lips.

  “My shadow stalker, you ache so much, yes?”

  “Yes,” I hiss. She removes her hand, leaving me more inflamed, and trails a single fingerclaw up my abdomen.

  “Do you want me?”

  I will not answer. Lilith stabs her claw into my chest fully aware what the pain will do to me. Shutting my eyes infuriates the demon. She wails into me with fists of steel cracking bones in my jaw. The phantom chains free me; I collapse to the ground. After she kicks me back, Lilith straddles my stomach. Her arousal is thick and moist against my skin. My betraying body hardens doubly. I do not want her, this cursed body does. “Do you want me?”

  “Yes, master.”

  She strikes me, knowing I lie. “You will look at me, slave.”

  I obey.

  Lilith grins as she cups my face. Her tongue slips between my lips. Fingerclaws fondle my erection with no mercy. She presses her flesh to mine drenching me in darkness, filling me with strength, and tempting me with pleasure.

  “Touch me,” she moans.

  The shock of her words halts me. I never touch her for it only serves to fortify the pleasure and pain I must endure. Staring into her face churns my insides, but I must comply.

  “By your wish, master,” I reply and cup her breast. Lilith grunts, tilting her head upward as she slides against my groin. She lifts her hips, taking me in. The demon is taut, cool, yet inviting. My thumb passes over the tight black nipple. Her walls tighten. Bile fills my throat even as I delve inside her.

  Lilith scrapes me with her fingerclaws and bites my flesh. Thought escapes me, instinct transcends. I grab her other breast as she rides me harder, faster. The demon’s breathing increases, sharp quick gasps, and deep mewling moans.

  Fire blazes between our bodies.

  Tainted bliss cuts into my heart. Finding my release through this demon is worse than the curse that made me hers. When I near the apex of my own undoing, Lilith stops to gaze down at me. Only with her permission am I allowed to climax. She does not give it freely or easily.

  “Do you remember being a man, slave?” Lilith rises slowly, retreating from my aching body.

  “No, master.” I’m man no longer. The curse has rendered me useless to all but Lilith. Only she can sustain me, fuel me, and keep me alive. I do not eat or sleep. I reap souls for my supper. Her body is the buffet. That is all I’ve known for an eternity.

  “Surely, it has not been so long…”

  “I have no memory, master.”

  “But you see the humans in the natural world, yes?” she says, stroking me, bringing me to the brink once more.

  “Yes.”

  “Join with me as humans do, slave.”

  Again, her words stun me.

  Lilith reveals a coy smile reserved for someone far more innocent. She turns, rocking her hips as she walks toward her bedchamber. Devil eyes flash black as she vanishes from sight. The demon’s arousal causes an agonizing contraction throughout my body. I’m defenseless to resist.

  I follow.


  Dark velvet curtains hang on the windowless walls. Candles line a path to her silk-covered bed. She lay on her back, midnight hair spilling around her human-like figure. I know she is demon but my body doesn’t care. I exist for her; the curse has made it so.

  “For tonight you are man, I am woman. You may have me as you wish.”

  These aren’t the words I long to hear. I care not to be a man with the likes of her, yet I draw nearer. I hover near her bed. Her hand falls to the black curls atop her mound. The want in her eyes, the evil seeping through her makes me weak with lust I cannot ignore.

  Hesitation stills me.

  “I will punish you further, slave. Join with me.”

  “Anyway I wish?” I dare speak.

  “Yes,” she coos.

  When I kneel on the bed, Lilith sits up to meet my eyes. I hate her. I need her. I will give her no pleasure, only take my own.

  “Turn over.”

  She complies; a smirk slips to her mouth. I lift her hips, drawing her to her knees. Her demon body calls to me. The slick tight folds between her legs dominate my senses. The darkness within her knows my weakness.

  “Kole,” her plea pierces my ears like blades.

  I drive into her harshly, she cries with delight. I don’t want her to enjoy it so I impale her furiously. The demon-bitch screams, pushing back against me. Grabbing her hair, I jerk back as I slam into her, ravenous for what she can give me. Her panting taunts me. She never speaks.

  Lilith bucks, her wicked walls constrict and tempt my resolve. Bliss bounds through her constantly. Still she offers me none. My control cannot falter and the pain I suffer holding back increases the pleasure. A vicious cycle I live every day.

  My erection throbs. I plunge deeper, Lilith cries for more. Devil! I seize her hips as I pierce her with the brutal force of my own black soul. Again, she screams, the ecstasy thick in her voice. I hate her. I need her. Release me.

  “Kole,” she gasps, “let me see your face.”

  Teeth clench. I wish not to meet her gaze so I drill myself through her depths. Release me!

  “I will give you one day.” Her words stall me. Lilith turns her head. If I look at her, I must do whatever she requires. If I do not, she will leave me erect with no hope for climax. Before the demon can spout her curses, I meet her eyes. “One day in the natural world for one night of…”

  She cannot even say it, for she does not understand. The demon has never felt love. The pleasure we derive comes from darkness, pain, hatred, and all the emotions that makes a heart and soul black as the void of space. I understand what she craves. Yet, for even one hour of freedom, I would trade the remnants of my soul.

  “Lovemaking,” I finish, feeling the conflict within my mind. Lilith moves to the head of the bed. Once more, she takes a submissive position as she did when I first arrived.

  “Yes. Lovemaking in exchange for a day in the human realm, have we an accord?”

  “We do.”

  I move closer, palming the bed as I crawl above her. Nausea, repulsion, and loathing fill me. Lilith reaches up, wraps her arms around my neck. She draws me near. Flesh singes.

  I’m forsaken.

  Mouths collide. I slide into her. My eyes shut, unable to bear her face. She claws my back; her legs wrap around my hips. I picture a human woman to help fight back the grotesque notions of what I’m doing. Yet I want more. I tongue her neck; she tastes of salt and decay. My hands caress her curves. Lilith holds me closer, tighter, with false care and desire. I fill her, possess her body, give her the pleasure she seeks even as it destroys me inside.

  We thrash together, each fraught with yearning. I rage above her, filling her void with each powerful stroke. Further, I climb. I ache.

  When I take her mouth, she tenses around me. Every inch of my body swells. Her gasps sting my skin. The fingerclaws dig into my flesh. She finds her pleasure incessantly, leaving me wanting. My head falls to her breast to suckle. Pleased, Lilith lifts her hips to my assault.

  “Take your pleasure, Kole,” she whispers.

  I grip her, clinging frantically to her body. Her eternal climax propels me toward my own. Lilith caresses me as a lover would. I’m ill and find no respite in my pending release.

  Faster I move; each thrust more urgent than the last. The fire within my groin bores through me. Lilith calls my name, coaxing me onward. I bury my head against her neck. She holds me. I plunge one last time into her demon chasm. I am undone.

  She cries as I spill the results of my lust inside her.

  Spent, I fall into her embrace. I’m weak. She shelters me, stroking my back. If I stay in her arms, the brutal sequence will begin again. I attempt to pull away, she holds me tighter. My body shudders, already sensing the evil within the demon overtake me.

  “Magnificent creatures you humans are. If I could make you human again, I would. Surely you had passion,” she murmurs. “You have your day, slave.”

  “Thank you, master,” I reply. This freedom will not come without a future price, but I’m grateful for any time I have. She removes her arms. I skirt back, withdrawing my painful erection. Evil exudes from her, keeping me rigid. I must get away. “By your leave.”

  “Yes, yes, clean yourself, slave.” With the flick of her hand, I’m banished to my cell. Its dark, cold walls of stone and earth comfort me, for I cannot feel her presence here. I wash her essence from my skin and try to erase the memories from my mind. Slowly, I feel in control again.

  I lay on the sheet that is my bed. I’m nothing again. Hearing the soft whispers of the soul-scared walls will bring me no solace knowing I’ve little time before she feeds again. Here I will stay awaiting her next call. Until then, I’m left to my own dark thoughts.

  Soon, I will ask the demon for my day. Escape from this hell is all I seek. One day without Lilith is a gift of the gods to me. I pray it soothes me from this curse if only for a while.

  RESTLESS SINNERS

  Patrick Tumblety

  She’s had to drag herself out of Hell so many times she wishes she could stay there. The ground pushes her body upward, accompanied by a sickening squish, like she's a pile of waste being shat into the realm of the living. She reaches for something to hold onto, a patch of grass or a gathering of stones, but her fingers sink into a mound of mud.

  It’s raining, why do I always forget that?

  The state of the weather is one of the requirements for her resurrection. She doesn’t know how the rules are made, only that hers requires driving rain and at least one cheating lover.

  Could be worse, though. During her first trip to Hell on Charon’s boat across the river Styx, she was hit on by a man who could only be revived if the last song a virgin hears before she's murdered is “Love Rollercoaster.” Not even the original by The Ohio Players, she had to have been listening to the obscure cover by the Red Hot Chili Peppers from the Bevis and Butthead movie soundtrack from ‘97. He then would have to crawl out of a portal in her stomach and hope the killer didn't run. He was stuck roaming the living until he found the guy, like an undead Columbo. She's not likely to run into that guy ever again.

  Free from the ground, the rain washes away the remnants of her dirt-filled journey, leaving only the blood from her torn skin to drizzle down her frame. Being resurrected with her dying wounds was thrilling for the silver screen, but walking around dripping pieces of herself was a pain in the ass. If there was some incredibly profound reason for her sickening appearance then she would be able to shrug it off, but she knows it’s just for dramatic flair. The evil dead revel in human conflict like pigs in shit.

  The other revenants tell her the conflict is akin to sex, creating buildup for the main event like a kind of malevolent foreplay and makes the whole experience more fulfilling. At least that's what the other revenants say. She has never felt the buildup in the half a dozen or so times she's been sent back to the living. No one ever has answers as to why. They all receive their orders from a leather scroll, most likely made from hu
man skin. Her orders appear wherever she happens to be, tied with a red ribbon etched with her name. Written in blood on the inside is always "return for your penance" with two coins to pay the ferryman. She once tried to ask him what he needed with money but he just laughed. He's a good conversationalist but never likes to reveal anything personal.

  The wounds remind her of the night she met her husband. They were introduced on a blind date at a drive-in showing of Night of the Living Dead and horror movies became their “thing.” The bastard would have gotten a kick out of her current appearance.

  Every so often there would be someone at the lake when she struggled to free herself from the earth, a fisherman packing up his gear or a snorkeler tying up a boat. An older gentleman had a heart attack on the spot when he saw her face peek out of the mud. Once she pulled loose she gave him mouth-to-mouth, but that only drove the poor guy further into shock.

  Getting a high off of being sadistic wasn’t her thing.

  Thinking of her marriage pushes her to remember the task at hand. She walks away from the lake and up the long, steep, creaky steps toward the massive cabin looming above. During her ascent she remembers each bone she broke as she hit every step on the way down, ending with the snap of her spine on the stone trail below and another ten minutes worth of suffering.

  At the back of the cabin she turns and takes in the view of the lake that had once left her breathless. She never knows how much time has passed since her previous release, but it must not have been very long because the view looks strikingly familiar. Though she has been a harbinger of death for many years she still recognizes life's beauty. Life before the betrayal was full of love. Even the man who killed her had given her so much joy before their relationship went sour. Almost two decades since her departure, she yearns to be a part of it all again but murderers don't get what they want, only what they deserve.

  Otherworldly senses tell her that the betrayal is underway, so she moves around the cabin as quickly as her ragged body lets her, and peeks through the bedroom window. With help from the moonlight she sees the newlyweds writhing beneath the sheets and feels their exhumed passion like a bullet to her core.