The Devil's Plaything

by Claire Marta

  Leo starts humming the tune to the film, The Omen. He’s been so quiet I thought the bastard had fallen asleep. “If it wasn’t a girl you could call him Damien.”

  Punching him hard on the arm, I scowl. “Shut the fuck up.”

  “How do you know it’s a girl anyway?”

  “I saw a scan.”

  Opening one eye, he regards me steadily. “When you were being held hostage?”

  “Yes.” Tucking the furs firmly over my form, I hide my bump from view. “What?” I snap defensively as he continues staring.

  “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit. Something is on your mind, so spit the damn thing out.”

  “Are you sure there is a baby inside there.”

  “Well, what else the fuck would it be? A puppy?” I ask sarcastically.

  The sound of a nasally snore in my ear startles me. Snatch is out for the count. The noises he’s making are more like a congested moose.

  “What if you’re a container for something insidious and evil.” Leo persists, rolling onto his side to face me.

  I don’t need these unwanted worries. So far, I haven’t had much time to think much about the life I’m carrying around. What if he’s right? Doubts cloud my mind. Fuck Leo and his suspicious nature.

  Eyelids slipping closed, I blot out his concerned expression, praying that he’s wrong. “If you start mentioning Rosemary’s baby I will have no problem smothering you to death with one of these furs. Go the fuck to sleep.”

  Chapter Ten

  The thud of hooves startles me awake. Jolted by the motion of the unfamiliar carriage, I stare around in confusion. The fact I’m alone is even more unsettling. Glancing down, I touch my flat stomach in panic. What happened to my bump? The baby? Shit a brick, what am I wearing?

  Examining the ties at the front of the bodice, I can barely breathe they’re fastened so tight. Caressing the swath of silky blue material, I glide fingertips over the length of the skirts. I’m dressed up like some kind of fairy-tale princess. Is this someone’s attempt at a bad joke. Questions cram my brain making it ache.

  Poking my head from the window, I’m just in time to see an imposing mansion come into view. In the dusky dying light, long shadows cast it in a sombre ominous glow. Frowning, I scan the building. What the fuck is going on? Am I dreaming? It’s the only solution I can come up with.

  The clatter of the wheels is loud as we thunder over the open drawbridge. Coming to a halt, I try to open the door, but it doesn’t shift. Clambering down from his perch, the pasty-faced driver hastily unfastens the latch on the door.

  “My Lord awaits you inside, Lady StClair.”

  Eyeing him suspiciously, I take stock of the courtyard. Not a soul is in sight. Flicking their tails, the four harnessed horses obediently await their master’s commands. Without another word, he climbs back up. Scooping up the reins, he gives them a tug. At the subtle movement, the beasts break into a trot.

  Gathering the skirts of the dress in my hands, I yank them up so I don’t fall and break my neck. For someone who never pictured herself as a helpless female whatever force is at work sure wants to slot me into that mould. Too bad they’re going to be disappointed.

  Taking the stone steps quickly, I hurry towards the grand entrance doors. Maybe I’ll get some answers inside. Finding it ajar, I slip into the interior, my shoes clicking on the polished marble floor.

  A grand stair case is the first thing to catch my eye. Sumptuous décor furnishes the main hall in white and gold. The scent of a delicate flowery perfume is fragrant in the warm evening air.

  “Good evening, Lady Mavi.”

  Whirling around, I face the man who has appeared at the top of the stairs. Black hair slicked back from his Adonis like features, his full cruel lips are quirked with amusement. The tight black breaches showcase the perfection of his muscled legs. With a white shirt and waist coat, he looks dashing. A prince awaiting his date. Strolling majestically, Lucifer doesn’t stop until we’re a hand touch away.

  “This is a dream, right?”

  My question earns me a smirk. “You were thinking about me. This is a fantasy in your subconscious mind. So yes, you’re asleep.”

  Throwing caution to the wind, I act on impulse. Grabbing him by the balls through his breeches, I give them a gentle squeeze.

  Gaze flaring with surprise, it quickly darkens with lust. “I see you’ve missed my cock.”

  Not letting up on my hold, I crush the suckers, twisting them sharply to the right.

  “I haven’t missed the manipulation, mind-fucks, or anything else you relish putting me through. You think you can use me for your own personal entertainment, you better think again this time.”

  Swearing loudly, he seizes my wrists as his eyes water from the pain. “You’re going to pay for that.”

  Lips stretching in a grin, I release him. “But darling, I’m just getting started.”

  Bringing a fist up, I catch him square on the nose. A satisfying crack is my reward from the force of the blow. Lucifer doesn’t even flinch, blood streaming from a nostril.

  “Someone’s definitely got anger management issues.”

  Glancing over my shoulder, I find Raziel watching us. Dressed in breeches and a white shirt, he mirrors the same time period my dream has unravelled in. The only thing out of place are the downy black wings folded behind his back.

  Amusement sliding off his face, he wiggles a finger at me. “Don’t even think about trying that with me, little girl.”

  Arm clamping around my waist, fingers tangle in my hair, arching my neck back. “You don’t like my games?” Teeth bite down on the vulnerable area where my shoulder meets my neck.

  “I don’t like being made your fool.” I reply, stifling a whimper.

  Rolling his hips against my arse, Lucifer makes his arousal blatantly obvious as he keeps me pinned to his muscular length. “Oh, you’ve never been that. My whore, my plaything, and currently my Executioner, but never a fool, my Flower.”

  Be still my beating heart. Does he really think I’m going to make it so easy for him?

  He might make me wetter than Niagara Falls, but I refuse to let him get his own way this time.

  Ripping the front of my bodice hungrily open, my breasts spill out into his waiting palms. Fondling the nipples, a tongue licks up the curve of my neck.

  “Why try to resist me?”

  Heat pools between my thighs.

  “It’s unhealthy you always get what you want. Your ego is big enough as it is already.” Clasping his stronger wrists, I halt his ravaging. “And I’m running out of reasons not to stab you.”

  Rotating the left one away, I shimmy from his embrace.

  “You’re feisty tonight.” He comments as I move out of reach. “It looks like you need a good fucking where I leave you a sticky hot mess or maybe a spanking instead.”

  This fictional version of the Devil my head has cooked up seems to want to pursue me with a single-minded intent just like his counterpart. A snake, who although holds a deadly beauty, could strike at any second, and fill my veins with poison.

  Gaze searching for a weapon, I’m disappointed to find nothing on display. “Not if I cut you into pieces first.”

  “Do you know how cute you are when you’re angry?”

  Cute? Let’s see how he likes it when I go bat shit crazy. Jabbing a punch for his smug face, he blocks it was ease. My next move is equally deflected.

  Lucifer raises an eyebrow. “Why waste energy fighting a losing battle when we can enjoy much more pleasurable moments.”

  His sensual tone sends tingles dancing between my legs. Taking one of my hands he brings it to his mouth. Kissing it, he gives it a gentle squeeze, drawing me close. Green eyes gleam mischievously. The more I stare the further I lose myself in their breath-taking depths. Thoughts dim. There are things I know that need to be said but I can no longer recall them. Why have I been so angry with him in the first place? I feel carefree. Without a worry in the world.


  Raziel shifts restlessly. “If you two are going to get freaky I at least want some bitches of my own.”

  “Maybe there’s a village you can pillage for virgins.” I reply mockingly back.

  “Take us somewhere more our style.” He actually has the bad grace to pout, bottom lip sticking out like a sulky child.

  Why the fuck not? This is my dream after all. Around us, the world peels away. Curling at the edges and shrivelling to reveal a new scene beneath.

  Sultry summer heat filters in through open doors. Wooden pews crowded with worshippers clad in their Sunday best stretch out to our left. The loud monotonous voice of the priest saying mass at the altar echoes around the serene silence of the building. Across the floor, the reflected rainbow hues of a stain glass window is bathed in bright warm sunlight.

  “Seriously? You had to come up with somewhere like this?” Raziel’s massive frame is dressed to match our surroundings. The charcoal grey suit gives him an air of sophistication the pelts he usually has on lacks. Wings out of sight, no one would know he’s a fallen angel.

  Checking out my own attire, I finger the cotton sunflower-yellow material of the summer dress clinging to my figure. More than aware there’s no underwear beneath.

  “Shouldn’t you two be in flames by now? This is the house of God.”

  My comments earn us a few hostile looks from the parishioners. A ripple of disapproving shushes ensue.

  “This is a dream, remember?” Lucifer murmurs beside me, leaning in so his lips brush the shell of my ear.

  “Is that why you’re dressed like a priest?” I ask, eyeing the white of his collar, sharply contrasting the long black cassock.

  “That was my own choice.”

  “I’m outta here.” In a flash of bright light Raziel vanishes.

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  Pursing his lips, Lucifer sighs. “He tends to stay clear of places like this. His mother was a Nun and his memories are not all fond ones.”

  “I thought he was a fallen angel.”

  “No, he’s a Nephilim.”

  The offspring of an angel and a human. That makes him the same as my own mother and uncle.

  Threading his fingers through mine, Lucifer drags me towards a wooden structure beside the wall. Opening the door, he ushers me into the cramp confines of the confessional box clicking it closed behind him. I register the small hard bench. We’re on the side the priest usually sits listening to those who wish to confess.

  “Ready to admit your sins?” It’s a deliciously sly purr next to my ear.

  This is so fucking wrong, but he has me hooked, needing to know how this will play out. Just the thought of having him fill me has my inner thighs slick with my own juices.

  “You want to fuck in here?”

  “I’ve peered into all your secret longings. Dipped my toe into the crevices of your freaky beautiful mind. Deny all you want, but I know all the fantasies you harbour.”

  Turning me around slowly he tackles the pearl buttons on the front of my dress, sliding the cotton material down the curve of my shoulders. Without a bra my tits are on display for his pleasure. Freeing the belt at my waist, the sides swing open. Raking his gaze from my face to my legs, he licks his lips.

  Lust clenches my insides. It’s an electric current setting off right down to my core. I’m completely naked. In the silence of our intimate confinement we can still hear the drone of the priest talking to his audience.

  Producing a rosary from a pocket, he dangles it between us. Smooth and black, the beads skim along the curve of my breast to circle a tight puckered nipple. I shiver at the coldness of the tiny metal figure as it sways, brushing over my skin, sending goose bumps in its wake. Meticulously, Lucifer treats the other globe to the same lavish attention.

  Mouth going dry with excitement, my breathing escalates in to fast harsh breaths. Looping it around my wrist, he binds them together, tying the ends in a way I’m not sure should be possible.

  “If you break these your pleasure will become pain.” He warns.

  Even now, he’s challenging me.

  Fisting the hair on the back of my head, he tips my face up, kissing me breathless, a master of my mouth. Moaning, I kiss back with all my pent-up neediness. Fuck, I want him so badly. I’m hot. I’m wet. And I’m about to get fucked in a church in the middle of Sunday service.

  He strokes my cheek, fingers slowly trailing to my jaw.

  “It fascinates me how you can be both submissive and fierce, challenging and yielding.”

  Hands forcing my shoulders down, cool wood meets my bare arse. Sinking onto his knees he looks like a man who’s about to worship. Without warning, he lifts my legs to rest over his shoulders. Mouth anchoring to my swollen wet lips, he sucks and licks. Penetrating me with his expert tongue.

  Grasping handfuls of his thick black hair, I whimper, rocking my hips into his face. I feel the blooming of heat through my chest as it encompasses every cell. Losing all sense of control, I spiral over the edge of release, thighs squeezing his face.

  “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

  Soft, guilt ridden, the feminine voice behind the screen makes me freeze. Lucifer’s eyes steadfast on mine. He grins evilly against my pussy lips.

  “When was your last confession, my child, and tell me the nature of your sin?” He asks sternly, the warmth of his breath over my sensitive flesh, making me shudder. My sweet juices glisten on his lips.

  “Six days ago. I’m having impure thoughts about a man who isn’t my fiancé.”

  “Hmm, lust.” Tongue dancing over my clit, he considers the woman’s words. “Describe to me these thoughts.”

  Swallowing down a moan, I desperately attempt to hide my presence as he attacks with new vigour, sucking and licking.

  “You want me to tell you what they are?” She asks, confusion mingled with embarrassment.

  Pausing in his task, he inches away for a second. “To better understand what penance you must undertake.”

  “But they’re the sexual kind.”

  “Even better.”

  Switching his hands from my split thighs, he wraps them around my hips to flip me over. Bent over, cheek pressed against the wooden panel inches from the screen, I grip the ledge careful not to break the rosary binding my wrists. A thin barrier conceals me from our oblivious audience.

  I obey his silent command as he contorts me into the position he desires. I’m too far gone to stop. Chasing a high and I need this hit no matter what the cost.

  “I want to have sex with him.”

  “Don’t hold back, my dear. Tell me explicitly what you want. Every filthy detail in your head.”

  Heart thundering behind my breastbone, I groan quietly when the head of his cock rubs through my slick folds. Towing me back, he angles my legs spread above his lap. Forearms bracing under my thighs, he pulls me downwards, thrusting his hips until he’s fully seated, stretching and filling me. Spread wide for his pleasure he can now use me as he pleases.

  I’m more than aware that if anyone were to open the door I’d be exposed to the whole congregation. My sex deprived brain turns to mush. It’s degenerate, immoral, yet I can’t help being so turned on by it that my pussy throbs with wicked need. Urging me to move, the wooden bench beneath us creaks as we fuck frantically.

  “Come along. Don’t be shy,” Lucifer encourages.

  It takes me a second to realise he’s talking to the confessor. A gasp reaches my ears. Flicking my half-closed eyes to the screen I find her watching us in silence. She doesn’t say a word but continues to stare.

  “I want to feel his cock inside me. Have him take me like there’s no tomorrow anyway he pleases.”

  Cupping one of my heavy breasts, he fondles it greedily.

  “In the privacy of your bedroom or somewhere else?”

  Delivering his thrusts harder, he angles us towards the screen, presenting a better view for our observer.

  “An open top bus at night.” A
moan issues from the other side of the confession box as she finishes her sentence.

  She must be touching herself. Getting off on her voyeurism. An image of her fingers shimmying beneath her panties as they find her slippery opening flashes through my head.

  The Devil chuckles. “You’re a dirty whore, aren’t you, with depraved deviant fantasies.”

  Grasping my chin roughly, I nod as his thumb presses between my lips into the warm wetness of my mouth. Breasts bouncing wildly, I ride him like a woman possessed.

  “Yes. Yes, I am,” she agrees in a breathy whisper.

  We’re on some fucked up decadent crazy train, but I know I’m already going to hell. I’m wound so tight from the intensity that when my orgasm comes it tears a guttural cry from my throat. It’s mirrored by a soft keening sound from beyond the wooden mesh.

  Dazed, floating on a sexual high that’s so magnificent my muscles go lax. Not done with me, Lucifer pounds into my pussy, fingers bruising on my skin. Just when I think he might snap me in half with his ferocity a shudder rolls over him. Cock pulsing again and again, streams of his hot cum fill me. Panting with exertion, he rests his chin idly on my shoulder.

  “You’re a sexual deviant. Obviously, you’re not excited by the male you wish to wed. I bet when you’re alone masturbating it doesn’t satisfy your urges. Do you really want someone who will never please you in bed? Won’t this lead to greater temptation to sin and cheat?”

  The bench next door squeaks as we hear the rustle of clothing being adjusted.

  “I guess so.” The woman replies, voice thick and sated.

  “There’s so much pleasure to experience in the world. Why not go out and relish it? I suggest you start with the young man you’re lusting over. Why not play out all your disgusting perverted fantasies I know you have swimming in your head? Now off you go and enjoy a good fuck.”

  Obeying his command, she leaves with a quiet click of the door.

  Glancing down, I’m pleased to find the rosary tied around my wrists still intact.

  “You corrupted that young woman.”