Exhibitions of Flesh

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Exhibitions of Flesh Page 10

by Jillian Rose


  Chapter 4.

  When he awoke, he felt extremely hungover. His head throbbed in time with his testes, and his stomach felt filled with acidic bile. He limped to the large ornate bathroom, and projectile vomited into the white basin of the toilet. The smell that wafted up from the basin made him vomit some more, and when he finally opened his eyes to look, he recoiled. It looked like he had vomited a gallon of pus into the toilet, stinking of rotten eggs and spoiled milk. Upon first waking, he had convinced himself it was all one strange intense nightmare. The puke was one thing, but when he looked in the mirror, and raised his upper lip, he saw the small chipped portion of his front tooth that corresponded with the way he bit down on Lilith’s nipple.

  “You screwed it up somehow. This isn’t right.” He said to the haggard reflection in the mirror. He dragged himself downstairs, putting on some jeans, being careful to slide the fabric over his stinging and sensitive penis, and a t-shirt to make himself somewhat presentable. Still, he elicited a shocked response from Katya, the live in maid who prepared his meals and tidied up around the house, tending to the plants and other chores. The blonde Russian lady had been with them since before Roger had died, had watched Ian grow up from a reclusive spoiled brat into a full grown repugnant replicant of his father, minus his rotund size.

  “Oh my god… Mr. Goldman, are you alright? Did you catch something? Do you need me to call an—”

  “No…No Katya, I’m fine… Just, hit the bottle a little too hard last night.” He croaked, and sat down heavily at the large dining room table next to the kitchen. “Can you please fix me up some bacon and a cup of coffee?” He asked, putting his head in his hands.

  “Of course, Mr. Goldman. Right away.” She said, disappearing into the kitchen. He did not feel like eating, but knew he needed to get some food in him. He had a meeting with insurance adjusters today regarding some of his father’s real estate in Florida that had been damaged during the last hurricane season, as well as a thousand other mundane things he didn’t feel like dealing with. All he wanted to do was recover, and then pour back over the texts, seeing where he had screwed up, went wrong. The demon’s words implied she would make a return visit, something that simultaneously horrified and excited him. Regardless of his feelings, he needed to rectify this matter. He didn’t pay a quarter of a million dollars to fuck a horse faced demon. He paid that money to be able to see his mother from beyond the grave, to experience the love she promised him.

  He took the few strips of greasy bacon and steaming coffee with him to the study, opening up Luciferian Pedagogy. He reread over the text, not spotting a single error on his part. A thought came to him as he finished the last of his bacon, a thought so horrible that it nearly caused him to throw up again. Abner the bibliophile’s voice came back to him, talking about how these were English translations, the volume he couldn’t remember exactly. “So there may be some inaccuracies in translation.” The old fart had said. What if you summoned the wrong demon? Not the one that simply takes on the shape of the person who’s DNA you provided it with… but something else entirely?

  Just as he was about to turn to the coda on demoness invocations, trying to look for the passages that would cast free his bond to this entity, Katya knocked.

  “Uhm, Mr. Goldman?”

  “What?” he asked irritated, hating interruptions.

  “Mr. Newton, your chauffeur, is downstairs waiting to take you into town for your meeting… Just thought you wanted to know.” She said. His eyes widened and he looked over at his cellphone, which he had forgotten about on the desk. It was 9:35, his meeting with the adjusters was at 10.

  “Shit… Alright, thanks K.” He said, getting up and hastily going to his room to find a clean suit to throw on.

  The next four hours went by in a blur as he sat through meeting after meeting with vapid old men who all claimed to be good friends of his father, all of them shaking his hand and trying to sweet talk him into this deal and that. He listened half heartedly to their conversations while his mind reeled from last night. Am I… Still a virgin? Does sex with a demoness count? Will she come back tonight? Will—

  “Uh… Mr. Goldman?” Gary Woodbury said from across the table. Ian blinked, cleared his throat.

  “Sorry, I uh got distracted for a moment. Run that by me again?” He said.

  “Ah, no problem. Well, like I was saying, package A has higher interest rates per month, but less overhead to worry about in the long term. Package B on the other hand, and let me tell you, this is the one my clients have been loving, offers 10% down…” the man droned on. By the time the meetings were done, he couldn’t remember a single thing any of those men said to him. That was alright, he didn’t care. He just needed to be back home, to research, to make things right.

  When he did finally come back to the Goldman manor, he was feeling a bit better. His crotch still ached, but the nausea and general sense of misery had lifted, and he found he had the energy to pursue his esoteric research. What he found however would soon change that.

  After perusing the Luciferian Pedagogy for any and all reverse invocations, repelling spells and other cast away devices, he couldn’t find a single thing on the entity of Lilith, and how one might be gone of her presence. So, he opened The Magus instead, which had more extensive background history on the various demonic entities known throughout human history. There was a rather large chunk dedicated to “Guardians of the night”, the subset of entities that Lilith belonged too. Lilith herself was supposed to be the head succubus of a genus of female oriented creatures who thrived off the male aura. What he read at the end though made his stomach sink down to his feet.

  “One important distinction between Lilith and the hierarchy of lesser demons is her lifelong bond to those that summon her. Unlike the lesser demoness, those that serve under Lord Paimon, Lilith operates within her own agency, and does not abate her summoner upon one or two collections of male essence. Lilith’s bond is eternal, and can have a harem of up to fifty male souls before she must purge them and give her collected essence to the corresponding incubi so that they may breed with human females. Reports from sixth century warlocks and fallen clergymen corroborate the fact that Lilith remains a reoccurring specter right up until the moment of death, and is often the last thing to be spoken of before death, indicating she acts as the ferrying shepherd between this life and the after. No known reversal invocations or spells waiving her bond are currently known to exist.”

  “No….No…” Ian said, flipping back and forth between The Magus and The Luciferian Pedagogy, frantically trying to find contradicting information that would absolve him of his fate. But he had no such luck.

  He spent the rest of that afternoon getting very drunk on the reserve stock of Glen Livet that his old man hoarded in their cellar, along with bottles of wine that cost thousands of dollars each. The man was a prodigious drinker, and seeing his father drunk and sloppy all the time had the lasting impression on Ian that alcohol, and any sort of intoxicant were useless, dumb substances that ruined people. But that night, he did not care. He sought oblivion anywhere he could get it.

  Later, as he was lying in bed, the room spinning on an invisible axis, he tried to brace himself for her return. He did not realize he had fallen asleep until Katya roused him from sleep at eight AM, informing him that he had a meeting with investment bankers in an hour to discuss the investments tied to his trust fund. He had fallen asleep and awoken unmolested, and this gave him hope.

  Chapter 5.

  In fact, for the next three days he slept like a baby. By the end of the week, Ian had convinced himself he’d had a minor break with reality, a psychotic episode fueled by stress and lack of sleep. He’d suffered a mental breakdown in college where he thought the whole university was conspiring against him to fail, so he’d had the appropriate abnormal psychological history to support that theory. Which is why he almost screamed when he awoke Thursday night, roused from a deep sleep, to see that the ceiling of the master bedro
om had turned into a quavering obsidian void. Slowly descending from it was the familiar black shape that began to materialize before his very eyes.

  “No…” He breathed, and squeezed his eyes shut tight, trying to bring the blanket up over his head like he used to do as a child, but once again found he couldn’t move. He shivered as he felt the chilly aura wash over him, a thin serpent’s tongue sliding over his navel and up his throat.

  “Look at me.” She hissed.

  “No…” he whispered, his voice tremulous.

  “Look AT ME.” She said, loud, her full volume voice was like a thousand locusts taking flight, like the screams of women who’d ruptured their vocal chords after being tortured for hours on end. It was the sound of damnation. Of evil. And it commanded obedience. He felt his eyelids opening against his will, invisible fingers prying them apart to witness the abomination before him.

  She’d changed this time. Her face was slightly more human, the hair more luscious and full. She still had the long wolfish teeth rotten with tartar and plaque, but the lips that contained them were plump and human. In fact, she was starting to look like a twisted, morphed version of his mother. Her body was no longer coated in obsidian snake skin, but had the pale freckled flesh that he had fantasized caressing and rubbing for so many years. His heart skipped a few beats as he took her in, this slightly more humanized version of her aroused him immediately.

  “I see you’ve recovered nicellllly.” She said, taking one of her hands, and raking the long claw like nails down his chest. They were no longer the hooked talons of an eagle, but human hands, minus the tapered serrated edges of her long nails. “Do you like what you see?” She said, forcing him to meet her egg white eyes. He could now see the filmy, milky irises faintly through the white sclera, the hint of cool blue shining through the creamy film. She was slowly morphing into the object of his desire. At this realization he became rock hard instantly. She grinned wider, and took his throbbing cock in one of her hands, careful not to cut him with her nails.

  She stroked, slowly, tenderly almost, her tongue tickling him with it’s stinging saliva.

  “My my, my sweet baby boy sure has grown up.” He heard his mother’s voice call out to him. He gasped, and looked around, before realizing it came from the demoness. “That’s right, my precious sweet boy.” She said again, this time her voice overlaid with a raspy, hollow undertone. For an instant he had a flash of his mother’s radiant cherubic face stretched across the pointy severe angles of Lilith’s own visage before disappearing. It didn’t matter. It was enough.

  She once again straddled him like before, except this time she didn’t immediately shove him in. Instead she began to press her pelvis against the base of his cock, shoving the stiff member backward until his head was touching his navel, pointed towards his face. His member now painfully flattened against him, she began to slide her juicy lips along his shaft, and he felt a stiff, rough little nub tucked away against those folds, rubbing against him and swelling the more she glided against him.

  “Oh yesssssss.” She hissed, her voice half demonic, half his mothers, and let out a lusty moan. Ian strained against her, his cock so hard now he thought he would tear his skin open like an overcooked bratwurst if he got any harder. His shaft tingled as her fluids flowed freely, lathering his rock hard manhood until he was slick and tingling. Finally, just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, she slid herself all the way up past his tip, allowing his cock to slide up, away from his stomach, and she lowered herself just before it sprang back to it’s full mast position, and slipped him in.

  She gripped him firmly, his cock encased in a velvet glove that rippled and pulsated with every thrust. She moved slowly at first, letting him feel every inch that slid over him, her throaty moans causing a mild vibration to course through her channel as he entered deeper, deeper still. He imagined Scarlett’s slightly chubby, pale body straddled atop him, this illusion almost complete as the red hair obscured the demon’s face and tickled his shoulders and chest and she lowered herself and began to stroke faster, harder.

  “Mother…” He panted, and just speaking the word aloud caused him to throb even harder.

  “Yessssss, my sweet honey.” The demon whispered in his ear, the voice now fully the one he’d grown up with. That was it. Upon hearing her name, the red hair, the voluptuous breasts that pressed against him and the firm grip of her grabbing his swollen shaft as he slammed in and out of her was the trigger.

  He screamed as he bucked his hips, his fists clenching and toes curling as an explosion so intense and thick in volume he thought his very soul was exiting through his penis racked him. There was a grunt of satisfaction from the demon, and he felt her core go rigid, and he braced himself as that suction power was once again pulling his dick taught. He screamed again through gritted teeth as he pumped again, his cock straining against the vice like grip, the semen being sucked away into some unknown orifice of her body as he came. She released and clenched in time with his expulsions, making sure every drop was extracted. By the time he arrived at his quivering final contraction, she had loosened, just enough to alleviate the pressure but not enough to let him slip out. He knew she wasn’t done with him, and that was okay. Looking at the Scarlett emulate before him, he felt he could go all night.

  For awhile they lay there, like lovers almost, her more-human form a comforting weight against him. He realized her body actually made indentations into the sheet this time, and wished he could put his arms around her. He realized she was becoming more substance in his realm. He wanted to kiss her badly, but remembered the sight of those yellowed fangs, and fetid breath.

  “I don’t bite.” She said, once again reading his mind as she pressed her lips to his, making sure to keep her mouth closed. She was gentler tonight, easier on him, her presence more maternal than demonic. Maybe being stuck with her for life wouldn’t be such a bad thing. He’d finally have someone who would stick around. The thought warmed his heart, and he felt a small surge in his cock. She laughed.

  “Oh, someone is ready for round 2 aren’t they?” She said, once again in that Scarlett sounding voice. Just hearing it was enough to get him to half mast, but he had to grit his teeth as his tender head rubbed against her walls. It was an agonizing ecstasy. She started to thrust gently, holding her body against his, her breasts pressing against him, her hair spilling over those freckled shoulders and covering his head like a cowl. He felt one of her hands go down there and she began to pleasure herself while holding up her body with the other hand.

  He looked down and saw she was using one of her long nails to rake the engorged clitoral nub that was rapidly engorging between her folds. It was the same way someone would try to scratch off a scab, and he saw she was making herself bleed as she did it. He looked away, not wanting to see the reminders of what she actually was. He preferred this maternal façade instead. She began to grunt and moan, the voice of his mother barely there now. She rode him faster, his cock getting harder as he once again approached orgasm.

  “Give it to me. Give it all to me, Ian.” She snarled. She once again began to pulsate powerfully, gripping him spasmodically as her walls began to quiver.

  He began to moan with her, and as her contractions intensified, squeezing him hard like a silken vice, he began to scream involuntarily as the first burning pump once again forced semen through his bruised urethra. As soon as his seed hit her walls, she clenched even harder, that suction feeling returning with a vengeance. Just when he was about to go a second time, there came a commotion from the right. Lilith froze, her head whipping around as Ian heard the door to his master bedroom open.

  “Mr. Goldman, are you okay? I heard—Oh my god… Oh my dear Jesus. Oh—” Katya began before the succubus sprang off of Ian and shot across the room with cobra like speed. Ian couldn’t turn his head to look, but with a horrified awe he could hear what happened. The sound of meat ripping. The sound of blood splashing upon the floor. Katya’s garbled scream as blood filled
her lungs. The thumping of her feet on the carpet as she struggled to get up. That thumping eventually stopped. He could smell urine and the sharp coppery smell of blood as Katya’s fluids were released from her body.

  A moment later he saw Lilith floating above him, in her true form now, the hideous wolfish one, all traces of her maternal avatar gone.

  “I HATE interruptionsssssss.” She snarled. She saw the puddle of semen that had gathered in his navel when she’d lept off Ian in mid orgasm. He noticed the ejaculate was tinged pink with blood. “Look at that. Wasted seed. Horrible. Terrible. Next time, NO interruptions.” She said, lowering her face down to his and smiling. He could see strands of flesh stuck in her gums, her teeth stained red. Then she simply floated away through the obsidian void in the ceiling, as if she were never there.

  Chapter 6.

  He awoke in the morning thinking it was all a bad dream. Then he stared down at his scabbed cock, the white film of dried ejaculate stuck to his pubic hair. For awhile he just laid there, too afraid to get up. He no longer smelled blood or urine, but knew he could very well of gone nose blind to that while he was asleep. He counted to ten, and forced himself to get up, walking around with his eyes closed to try and get to the bathroom. His barefoot stepped in something cold and sticky. He let out a strangled cry as he opened his eyes, and saw the puddle of dark, drying blood soaking into the plush carpet. Katya’s body was half in and half out the doorway leading to the master bedroom, her swollen purple face looking right up at him with a frozen rictus of horror. Her throat had grown a second, wide red mouth just below her jawline, a ragged maw opened by diseased teeth not from this world.

  He stood there, frozen, his foot still in her tacky blood. He’d always heard the phrase “deer in the headlights” and never understood how animals could freeze in dumb shock when they encountered a vehicle coming at them at high speed. He understood now. Finally, the urge to vomit broke his paralysis, and he ran to the bathroom, leaving a bloody right foot print along the way. He dry heaved, but nothing came up. The action of gagging caused a sharp pain to course through his tender testicles, and he collapsed against the toilet bowl, and began to weep. A picture of total pathetic abhorrence, laying naked on the floor with a woman’s blood coating his foot, his genitals coated in his own semen, dried spittle flecking his lips.

 

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