CHAPTER 10: ANGEL

            Angel’s room wasn’t upstairs at all.  Jayne trotted down into the main area where the little council of goddess had taken place.  There was one other girl in here, one of the ones who was boasting earlier about her ‘kill.’  Jayne didn’t even acknowledge her, just kept walking.  Down another staircase, we appeared to be a large airy basement.  The temperature was controlled, and it smelled almost sterile in here, it was so clean.  I saw the aquarium again, but it was empty now.  As Jayne continued to walk, I saw something else.  It looked… no it couldn’t be.  I was still staring at it when Jayne came to a stop at red door.

            “It’s me,” Jayne called, rapping her knuckles on the door.

            I prepared to make a leap for it.

            “Come in, love,” Angel’s voice called.

            The door opened, and I was immediately struck by how dark this room was compared to Jayne’s.  The light in here appeared to be all candlelight.  Jayne walked up to a small table, where Angel appeared to be dining.  I immediately saw she was not alone.  A miniature man sat on the table behind her square plate, working on eating what appeared to be a single grain of rice.  I guess the boss gets some playtime, too, I thought, as she sipped a glass of red wine and placed it on the table.  Jayne glanced at the little man, then back to Angel.

            “How did it go?” Angel asked, raising an eyebrow.

            “I’ll clean it up,” Jayne shrugged.  She reached over her head and slowly pulled the amulet up.  I was already descending the robe tie.

            “Of course,” Angel said, taking another bite of her food.  “Heard from Leila, yet?”

            I could picture the nervous expression on Jayne’s face but didn’t want to look up.  Angel didn’t seem like the type you wanted to keep secrets from.

            “She stopped by the tavern,” Jayne said.  “Making sure we covered our tracks.  She’ll be back soon.”

            “I’ve decided you can have her draw this month.  Will that smooth things out between you?”

            Jayne nodded.  “You know I can’t resist seconds.  Don’t worry about us, we’ve worked it out.”

            Dangling from the bottom of Jayne’s robe, I let go.  It was a pretty steep drop, but I landed without injury.  I looked up in time to see the amulet exchange hands.  Everything was going according to plan so far.  Although once I obtained the bloody thing, there’s no guarantee I’d be able to use it, or even lift it.  I watched Jayne thank Angel and walk outside, shutting the door.  I sprinted towards Angel’s nightstand.  Using a lamp cord this time, I climbed to the nightstand surface and sat close to the lamp, which was on, but dim.  I watched Angel finish her meal.

            “How do you like your food?” She asked her captive man.  I could not hear his response, but it was eerily quiet in here, so I imagine that she did.  “This is good, as you will need your strength.”

            Oh, brother.  Jayne 2.0? I wondered.  But I didn’t think so.

            Angel pushed her plate aside and stood up.  Her glorious figure was wreathed in a semi-transparent red robe.  Beneath that was an impressive ensemble of matching lingerie.  I found it ironic that someone named Angel would wear this much red.  Her black hair was pulled casually over a single shoulder, and her East Asian facial features were at once alluring and dangerous.  Although her features were as young as the other girls, her dark eyes suggested someone who had been around and seen a lot.  She lowered the amulet around her neck and moved towards the small man on the table.

Unlike from what I’d seen from the other women here, she did not snatch her prey with her hands.  She simply set her delicate hand onto the table and looked at him.  And he climbed into her palm without question.  The memory of her crushing the barkeep with her boot heel hours earlier still set off an alarm in the back of my head.  Even Jayne feared her, I could tell.  And that said something.  She glided towards my position and sat on her bed, which was, not surprisingly, covered in red satin sheets.  She leaned against a stack of pillows, gracefully curling a long arm behind her head while still holding her prey in the other.  She held him up to her beautiful face.  He appeared anxious but not terrified.  I surmised that so far she had been gentle with him.

            “Do you know what is happening to the other men as we speak?” She asked him.  He shook his head.  I wanted to raise my hand.  I know. “They are most likely dead by now.”

            I looked at him closely.  It dawned on me that he was one of Hotshot’s little friends.  His wingman from the tavern.  So far, he had the luckier draw.  So it seemed.

            “Will I be dead?” Wingman asked her.

            “Yes,” she replied, just as bluntly.  I shifted uncomfortably.  The man in her palm merely bowed his head, resigned to his fate.

            “But it will be a glorious death,” she reassured him.  “The others, they’re young.  They don’t fully understand yet.  Many of them, like the girl you just saw leave here, Jayne.  They think this is all about physical pleasure and domination of your kind.  That it’s all about the kill.  But it is so much more than that.”

            I was actually interested now.

            “To kill a man the size of an insect is nothing really.  I’ve squeezed the life out of a man with my little finger.  I’ve devoured countless men.  I’ve done it thousands of times myself,” she explained.  “But it becomes old after a few hundred years.”

            I stared at her.  Come again? I wanted to shout.

            “How… how old are you?” Wingman worked up the courage to ask.

            “I stopped counting.  It is irrelevant, because I am forever.  But this is my pleasure, now.  This conversation with you, my little insignificant man.  Getting you to realize what we’re trying to accomplish.  That’s my pleasure.  Like I said, killing is easy.  Getting others to kill, and enjoy doing it, that’s impressive.  Getting someone to willingly die for you… now THAT’S something to boast about.”

            Oookay.

            “With each life we take, we grow stronger.  Every life I take adds to my power.  I will teach them this, in time.  This, this amulet here.  It’s just a means to an end.  The world is changing.  A handful of men at a time.  And that, right there, the look on your face, is my pleasure.  The realization that your time as the dominant sex is over, in a big way,” she said, laughing at her own pun.  “Our numbers will continue to grow.  My girls will be ageless and beautiful.  We will keep some of you for procreation, the rest will exist to make us immortal.”  She’d practiced this speech before.  A lot.

            “You don’t have to kill me,” Wingman offered.

            “Don’t I?” She asked.  “They always say that… but you’re not listening.”

            “I can be your pet, your servant.  I’ll worship you.  Do whatever.  Procreate, like you said.  I have really good genes.  Really,” he stammered.  I gave Wingman a little more credit for being resourceful compared to Hotshot, who only expedited his own demise with Jayne.  Angel considered him for a moment, and then laughed.

            “But you are my servant already.  And you have served me well,” she replied.  “You did not try to run.  You ate with me.  I admire your composure, actually.  It is rare.  And now you’ve heard my story.  I never tire of telling it.  And now, as your last act of service… you are going to die.  It is a necessary part of this ritual, my little man.”

            He backed away suddenly, composure gone.  Her fingers curled up like serpents behind him, keeping him in place.

            “No.  There will be more dignity if you accept your fate.  I like you.  You won’t be forgotten anytime soon,” she placed him onto her bare stomach.  He looked around, looking for some chance of escape, but there was none.  “Remove your clothes,” she commanded.

            “I… no, I don’t want to,” he said.

            Angel sighed.  “They are coming off.  It will be more comfortable for you if you do it yourself.”

            He took a deep breath and looked down at himself.  He looked up at her face again.  She simply raised an eyebrow at him, still patiently waiting.  Reluctantly, he began disrobing.  Shoes and socks first.  Shirt.  Then pants.  He stood, shivering lightly on her soft abdomen, only in his underwear now. 

            “All,” she said simply.

            He hesitated, but complied.  Unlike Hotshot, he was not getting off at this humiliation.

            The hand behind her head reached towards me.  I lurched behind the lamp as she turned it on.  She leaned over the nightstand and opened the front drawer.  From inside she withdrew a sexual toy that was probably ten times my height.  I guess century-old witches have needs like everybody else, I thought.  The toy was not electrical.  It looked fairly standard, more or less shaped like my own manhood at full salute.  The base was odd, though, curved and wide, it almost looked like…

            Oh, my God, I thought, realizing what she was about to do.

            She raised her derriere slightly and began to remove her panties with her free hand.  She held them out over the side of the bed and dropped them to the floor. 

            “Know that your death with bring pleasure to your goddess,” she said.  “And because I am forever, you are forever.”

            She sat up, making him tumble onto his back, into her belly button.  She removed him delicately and laid him flat on the base of her dildo.  I was right.  It was some sort of … seat.  He began struggling and yelling something, but she held him at bay with her forefinger.  With her other hand, she produced a thin silk ribbon.  Even while he kicked and pleaded, she tied it around him and the dildo, knotting it just firm enough to hold him in place.  She slipped her finger off of him and he simply stared at her, sobbing softly.  He began pleading some more.  She only smiled.

            She leaned back, holding the dildo with Wingman trapped at its base with one hand.  Her other hand reached at me again, I ducked as she turned off the lamp.  Now, only the candlelight filled the room.  It was dark enough so that I could see her silhouette and that of the sex toy.  But Wingman, I could only hear him now.  He wailed.

            I watch the tip of the dildo disappear into her silhouette.  She moaned softly.

            “Please don’t!” Wingman was reduced to begging.

            It slipped out, and then back in, a little further.

            “PLEASE!” He shrieked.

            Out again, and then in.  Deep.  I could hear every sound of her body accommodating this foreign object into her.  It was fairly long as well as thick, as I recall.  And so far, I could still hear Wingman plead.  Her pace quickened, as did his cries for mercy.

            “This…” Angel panted, “…this is why you exist.  Your sole purpose.  To please me.”

            Well, if it wasn’t before, it is now.

            Faster now.  Her body bucked rhythmically to take in the dildo deeper and deeper.  I could imagine her clitoris engorged now, coming closer and closer to Wingman’s face.  But I could still hear him screaming.  A mixture of terror of the gaping maw trying to devour him and the wild ride shaking him senseless.  Each gentle thrust brought him closer.  And closer.  She appeared to be approaching her climax.  But right before she let loose, she stopped. 

            Angel sat up and repositioned herself onto her knees.  She held the dildo up to her face, searching until her eyes met with Wingman’s, who I could see what still securely fastened to its place.  She licked the shaft, like a popsicle, and when she got to his body she planted a gentle kiss directly onto his face.   

            “It’s time,” she said with a surprisingly gentle smile on her face.

            She lowered the toy to the bed and straddled it, still sitting up so that she could see him.  He was bent at a 90 degree angle, his legs straddled on either side of the shaft with his back against the dildo’s base.  I could barely see him in the light, but I could still hear him begging her to stop.  She responded by skewered herself onto it, plunging it as deep as it would go.  At its deepest point, Wingman’s scream was suddenly cut off, and I knew her clitoris was hitting him square in the chest and face.  She held it in, her silhouette grinding away in the darkened room.  She pulled up a bit and the screams commenced.

            “Do you love your goddess?” She asked, looking down at him again.

            He simply continued to scream.  I can’t say I would have done any different.  She plunged downward again, her entire womanhood crashing onto his body with the force of truck.  She pulled back again.

            “Do you love your goddess?” She asked again.  Louder.

            “Y-y-yes!” I heard him cry.  I was surprised to find myself standing at the edge of the nightstand, trying to see a little closer.

            “Say it.  I want to hear you say it,” she commanded him.

            “I… I love my goddess,” he managed.

            She slammed down again, harder.

            “My pussy is your temple, isn’t it?” She asked.  “You worship it, don’t you?”

            “Y-y-yes.  My temple!  My tem-“

            SLAM!

            “Say the words, slave.  Tell me my pussy is your temple.  Tell me you worship it!” She raised her voice for the first time.

            “I worship it! Oh, god.  I worship your pussy!  It is my temple… please.”

            She came down softer than before, allowing him to whimper while she continued pleasuring herself.  I heard him crying, wailing for mercy.  I watched her slowly build up to a climax, plunging again and again, each time deeper than before.  Then she paused, hovering over him.

            “Tell me you want to die,” she whispered.

            “What?” Wingman coughed up what sounded like a considerable amount of fluid.  Maybe his own blood.  Maybe her passion.  I could only imagine.

            “I want you to say it,” she said.  “Tell me you want to die.”

            “No,” he replied, calmly.

            She slammed down with incredible force.  When she pulled up, I heard him coughing in pain.  That thrust maybe have broken some ribs.  Possibly his back.

            “Say it,” she said again.

            “NO!” he coughed out defiantly.

            SLAM! 

            Angel held him in place this time, grinding her womanhood over his entire body.  I thought he would suffocate, but she came off of him suddenly, and I heard him gasping wildly for air.

            “Say it!” Her voice turned into a venomous hiss.

            “I… I want to die,” he groaned.

            “You want my pussy to devour you.  Your whole life, your entire existence.  Say it.”

            He did.

            “Do you offer yourself to me, your Goddess?”

            “Y-y-yes.”

            Angel smiled.  It was a wicked smile.  She reached down quickly and untied his passion-soaked silk restraints.  I couldn’t fully see from where I was at, but she had taken his battered body and plunged it, in its entirety, into her womanhood.  Then she skewered herself onto her toy again.  There was no turning back.  She bucked and screamed even harder than Jayne did.  I imagined Wingman lost in her boiling body, her sex muscles constricting around him with unbelievable force as she climaxed.  To top it all off, her little sex toy crashed into him like a wrecking ball over and over again.  If he wasn’t already, I imagined he would be against her cervix, being pummeled continuously.  Just as I had witnessed with Jayne and Hotshot, her prey’s ultimate pain became Angel’s ultimate pleasure.

But something was different, as she climaxed she gripped her amulet and murmured something different, and a bright blue flash caught me off guard.  And this didn’t come from the amulet this time.  It came… from her.  Down… there.  I didn’t have time to shut my eyes.  A as the light hit me I fell backwards.  As it dissipated, I looked at myself.  Nothing had changed, not as far as I could tell.  I looked at Angel, and her eyes had rolled back, showing nothing but the whites.  She howled with her sexual climax, and then fell flat onto her back.

After her breathing slowed, her silhouette arched back.  She reached down and plunged her fingers into herself.  I was glad I couldn’t see.  But she extracted his body and held him above her face, and I could see, just for a moment, his lifeless body.  Before she dropped him into her mouth and swallowed him whole.  I was flat on my back, still dazed.

            Suddenly, I found myself longing to be in Jayne’s room again.  Anywhere but here.