DemiGod: Ascension

Chapter 1

Courtney slipped inside the meeting room, closing the door quietly behind her. The room itself was cold, if not as cold as outside, and not very well lit, but none among those assembled were complaining. The chill and darkness fit the mood perfectly. Dark rooms for dark days. Courtney suppressed a shiver at the insidious thought.

Anslov acknowledged her arrival with a somber nod of his head. Of course, he knew where she had been. Most likely, everyone present knew. It was expected. Courtney could easily remember the first time she had met Anslov; she had been less than impressed with him, but Jake saw his potential immediately. The greater duty given to him, the brighter he shined, until he was the de facto right hand of Jake himself. His original cocky flamboyance had been gradually weathered away over the intervening centuries into a man of gravity and depth, and although his face seemed untouched by the years, his demeanor bore the weight of heavy responsibility; the burden of being the most powerful Ascendant who had ever lived. One who did not know him would see the shock of dirty blond hair, the pale blue eyes, the laugh lines, and take him for a kindly but strict father-type just entering middle age. Truthfully, he was all of that, but so much more--and middle age was something of an unknown, for as yet, not one Ascendant had died of age--and all could look however they chose.

As if her arrival had been the signal to begin the meeting, Anslov announced his intent to speak by simply clearing his throat. Such was the respect he commanded that the murmured conversations among the various decision makers immediately ceased and all eyes turned on him.

"Friends, family... we are faced with a critical decision. As we all know, Jake has not been... acting like himself as of late, and recently, it has been getting noticeably worse." Anslov's eyes made contact with everyone in the room, driving his words home. "In the absence of his leadership and guidance, we must take on the roles left vacant." Anyone hearing him talk would assume that Jake had been acting strangely for a few months, not fifty years or more. But he was right--Jake was getting worse, and quickly now. "We must also devote as much energy as possible to discovering the cause behind Jake's... malady." There was some stirring about that. Jake had never been sick since he came into his power nearly a thousand years past. Anslov let the muttering quiet down before continuing.

"In this light, I propose we reorganize ourselves to best meet this threat. My idea is to split up the Circle, and begin to focus on areas of critical interest."

"Wait a minute, Anslov," began Rechart, another Ascendant that had been there from the beginning. "As far as I know, everyone has been talking about how Jake has changed, or been changed, but I for one would like to know exactly what you mean by it. From what I've seen, he may be a little more reserved than he has been in the past, but that's certainly no reason to start going behind his back, jumping at shadows. He is still Jake, and he is still the one who holds our allegiance."

Anslov frowned. "Perhaps you have not been paying close enough attention, Rechart. But, if you want a detailed description, simply talk to any of his concubines." All eyes turned to Courtney.

Courtney blushed. She was hardly the only concubine in the room, but for some reason whenever somebody thought of Jake's concubines, it was her they thought of first. Still, she was as capable of answering the question as anyone else.

"Sometime about sixty years ago or so, Jake started exhibiting minor symptoms of obsession; generally speaking, these obsessive tendencies showed themselves in his intimate relations with us." She blushed again and looked Rechart in the eye. "I trust I don't need to go into specifics, but suffice it to say, before that point, sex was hardly the definition of our relationship with him. We still love him absolutely, but for him, the sex has become by far the most important aspect of the relationship."

"I shouldn't think that would bother you so much. You have a history of almost excessive enthusiasm when it comes to that," Rechart commented. Courtney blushed again, but she knew he wasn't saying that to be small, simply stating a fact--a fact that she had to acknowledge as true.

"Well, yes, but even from the beginning, when Jake was just a horny teenager, there was far more depth to our relationship. Almost overnight, in comparison with the strength and duration of our relationship, he became shallow and selfish. He has never been like that before. For almost 900 years, Jake has been a caring, giving lover and companion, and in the space of a few decades, that facet of his personality has... well, it's either vanished, or it's been masked so completely that I can't even tell it's there." Murmurs and nods of agreement rippled through the other concubines present, an effect not easily overlooked by the others.

"In the last few months, this change in his attitude has begun to affect his official life. He assigns no more projects to himself, no longer seeks anything challenging, and no longer helps others with their problems. And of course, last week--"

"I don't think everyone needs to hear about that, Courtney." Anslov broke in firmly. Courtney blinked. Surely he could not mean to cover that up? Anslov had always been fiercely protective of Jake's image, as fiercely protective as Jake's concubines, but there was no way this could be glossed over. It was what had prompted this meeting!

Anslov seemed to realize it too, as soon as he noticed the frowns among the people in the room. Grimacing, he motioned for her to continue. Courtney nodded sympathetically. She understood his reluctance, but they had to be told. They had to understand how precarious the situation was becoming.

"Last week, he nearly killed Talamia in a rage that came on suddenly, and for no apparent reason. We literally had to pull him off her, and you all know how strong he is. He cooled down in seconds, but never offered a word of apology, and that night he called her to his bed as if nothing had happened." Murmurs of shock again rippled through the assembly. "I don't think he would have actually killed her, but who knows? He is no longer as stable as he once was, and he seems to be getting worse. The next time, there may be nobody to pull him off. The next time, he may not cool off in time. I love him with all my heart, but I'm afraid to be alone around him." That was where she had been when this meeting had been called... she shivered, remembering the cold fervor in his eyes as he had thrust into her. As always, his merest touch gave her a thrill of pleasure, but she hadn't wasted a moment to escape as soon as his attention had turned to other things.

Anslov turned to Talamia, who had been sitting quietly in the shadows of a corner. Since that night, she had barely spoken a word to anyone. Talamia was over six feet tall, with thick, luxuriant blonde hair down to the middle of her back, clear blue eyes, and the features of an angel. All women envied Talamia. She was almost unrealistically beautiful, and possessed a simple and unconscious grace that gave the impression that even when she moved, it was not her but the world that moved around her. Of course, she too was a concubine of Jake's, a position that nearly all women in this day and age found enviable.

"Talamia, can you recall what was happening when Jake attacked you?" Anslov asked gently.

Talamia looked at him and shrugged uncomfortably. She didn't like thinking about it, and had always been reserved when talking about her relationship with her Lord, but it seemed she felt compelled to speak.

"We were just lying together, after... after making love," she said hesitantly, and Courtney barely managed to cover a wince. Most here would assume that her hesitation was due her reluctance to talk of intimacies with Jake, but she and the other concubines knew that the times they spent recently with Jake could in no way be called "making love." There was no tenderness, no respect, no love involved... simply a mechanical animal satisfaction on Jake's part. Her heart ached for it. "I just... moved... to talk to him. To look at him. And he went crazy. I didn't even say anything." Unshed tears welled in her eyes.

Barrachus, the man responsible for creating and organizing the Disciplines, the Commandant of Academy Arcanis, the only true formal school of learning the Arts Arcane, started as if elbowed awake. "Excuse me, but can anyone in here recall an oddity in Lord Jacob's behavior that does not have some direct relationship to sexual activity?" The room was silent, partly in response to his question, partly curious of the conclusion he had drawn. Barrachus looked to be about 45 years old, but he was the oldest in the room, with almost 1200 years to his name. He had lived through witch burnings, the Civil War, and the Industrial Revolution, gaining experiences as an Adept of the Old Order before Jake had transformed him into an Elemental Mage, one of the Ascended. He was also one of Jake's most trusted advisors, due to his keen mind and nearly supernatural problem solving skills. There was yet to be a riddle or puzzle that Barrachus could not defeat.

At the silence, Anslov addressed Barrachus. "It would appear not, Barrachus. Does this have some special meaning for you?"

Barrachus frowned. "I am unsure. Let me ask this: has anyone heard from Ykir since Lord Jacob started acting different?" Again there was silence.

"You've certainly managed to pique my curiosity, Barrachus," Anslov began slowly. "What are you implying? That Ykir is somehow responsible for the change in Jake?" He obviously did not believe that possible, and neither did Courtney. Ykir might be Jake's equal in power, perhaps even superior, but Jake had a huge following of Ascended, all of whom bore loyalty only to Jake. Besides, Ykir had withdrawn almost completely from humanity centuries before Jake had even come onto the scene, choosing to spend more time flitting about in the Ether. He was no longer interested in the affairs of man. Or woman. Courtney herself had only seen Ykir once, many centuries ago, and only because Jake had invited him, on a seeming whim, to a party at the palace. It was not an uncomfortable engagement, but it was clear to all present that it likely would not happen again. Immediately afterwards, Jake and Ykir disappeared together; Jake didn't return for nearly a week, and when he did, he never spoke of what had transpired between them. Many of the former Old Order held Ykir in extremely high regard... after all, the 30,000-year-old man had created the Old Order thousands of years before any in this room had been born.

"No, no... but I think it might be profitable to find him... remember that Lord Jacob lives as much in Ether as he lives in this world, the same with Ykir. It is possible that this... affliction... is due to some unknown influence exclusively residing in the Ether. Recall that the Ether reacts rather unpredictably with strong emotion, and there are few stronger than lust or violence. If Ykir is in the same humor as Lord Jacob, I would say we have narrowed down the area of where to start searching for answers."

That made sense, but... "Barrachus, what if we do somehow manage to find Ykir, and he is as bad or worse than Jake?" Courtney asked. "None of us here are near a match in power for Jake, and he has emotional ties to us. Ykir would not be so inhibited."

Barrachus nodded slowly. "That's true, but don't you think that your lord's sanity and well being are worth the danger? I do." Courtney found herself nodding. She had always known she was willing to die for Jake, but until this point it had always been rhetoric. The possibility that she might actually have to die for him hadn't occurred to her, but she knew she was willing to do it. Her biggest fear would be not being able to see him smile any more.

Anslov cleared his throat again, and the speculative murmuring died down immediately once again. "I assume we have a vague plan of attack, then?" He did not need to wait on the nods around the room before continuing. "Very well, I and anyone who wishes to accompany me will seek out Ykir and..." he broke off as Barrachus shook his head. "I need to go, Barrachus, I am the only one of us here that is strong enough to give Ykir pause."

"Anslov, you are the most powerful of the Ascended, no question. But your power is nowhere near strong enough to give Ykir pause. Any more than it would give Lord Jacob pause. Your power would not matter. But that is beside the point. You must hold yourself in reserve, in case it is not Ykir. In case it is one of the Ascended who is our enemy."

The shocked pause that produced only lasted seconds before nearly everyone present was protesting the possibility. But Anslov was nodding thoughtfully, and so was she. They knew what had precipitated his rise to power. The Law was pronounced for all Ascended, and the Law said that no Ascended could kill another. But once in a while, through genetic mutation or psychosis, there came to be an Ascended without that directive etched into the core of their being. Such a one existed nearly four centuries ago, and threatened to undo Jake's carefully built society. His solution was simple... find someone who had little respect for the law, but great respect for Jake and for life... and make him exempt from the Law. Of all hale Ascended, only Anslov could purposely kill another Ascended, an ability he hated to use--which is of course the reason it was given to him. And if another Ascended had somehow managed to disrespect the Law enough to contemplate harming Jake, it would be Anslov's responsibility to put him down.

Of course, it was not common knowledge that it was even a possibility to defy the Law, and it was certainly not common knowledge that Anslov was not bound to it. The only reason Courtney knew was because she was there when Jake had released Anslov from the Law. Even then, her blood had run cold when she realized the power Jake had given the man... at the time, he was hardly what she would have considered trustworthy. The protesting assembly was angry at the idea that one of the Ascended could actually have something to do with this threat facing them all. It was not, generally speaking, thought possible.

Anslov understood, of course. He acknowledged Barrachus' logic, even though he was obviously not pleased at its conclusion, most likely because he hoped Barrachus wrong. Truthfully, Courtney hoped Barrachus wrong, too.... the last Ascended that went on the warpath had nearly destroyed the world.

The hubbub died down after Anslov raised his hand. When he had everyone's attention once again, he asked, "Who will go to find Ykir?" Not surprisingly, nearly every hand in the room went up. Anslov sighed. "All right, we need at least one member of the Ruling Council, to be taken seriously as an ambassador from Jake. Rechart, since you spoke up, and since you were of the Old Order, that can be you. Ykir might actually recognize one of his old Adepts. We need one concubine, because she will be most able to notice the same symptoms in Ykir, if he has them. Courtney?" Courtney nodded her head. She had known she would go.... she would have gone even if she hadn't been picked. "A member from each of the Nine Disciplines, I'll let the Discipline Prelates decide who, although I would ask that they don't pick themselves. We need to maintain the impression that all is normal." Courtney could see three of the Prelates near her, nodding somberly. There was no doubt in her mind that the other six were somewhere in this dark room, also nodding.

"Are we missing anyone we need?" Anslov asked the assembly. The room was silent. "Good. Rechart, decide a time and place to meet, and let your embassy know. On to the next item of business." He glanced at Barrachus with a troubled expression. "I'm hoping that this is completely unrelated to our problems with Jake, but there have been a disturbing number of inexplicable deaths lately, among the Ascended and regular humans." Anslov glanced at Barrachus again. "A number of these are in... intimate... settings, a coincidence I hesitate to stretch, particularly in light of your observations, Barrachus."

Courtney searched Anslov's face for what he meant, but he purposely left his features blank. Grimacing, she spoke up. "Perhaps you could be a tad more elucidating, Anslov? You leave a bit too much room for us to interpret wrongly."

Anslov sighed again. "I was trying to make it clear without being crude, but perhaps I was sacrificing clarity to prudishness. Most of these inexplicable deaths, the actual cause of death is not inexplicable. A strangle cord, a kitchen knife, a blunt instrument, whatever, but they seem to take place immediately after sexual activity. Extensive sexual activity. There is little evidence of rape or coercion, but evidence also indicates a struggle ensued with some of them after the fact. Most likely when the assailant or assailants indicated an intention to commit murder and not just perform some kinky sex act. Does that satisfy?"

"Do any of the victims fall into an obvious category, Anslov? All women, all Ascended or anything?" Barrachus asked.

"No. It has happened to men and women both, Ascended and non alike. There seem to be personality similarities between the victims, but even that is a very broad base with a huge tolerance level. What I am asking of you, ladies and gentlemen, is to keep an eye out. We need more information, and we need to keep our eyes open. That's all I have to say. Be careful, and keep in communication, regardless of how inconsequential you think your news is. Thank you for coming."

Heads were nodding in agreement, and people were filing out, talking softly amongst themselves. Courtney stayed. She wanted to talk to Anslov and Barrachus alone.

Apparently they had the same idea as all but the three of them slowly shuffled out the door. The last, Talamia, looked at Courtney in askance, but closed the door behind her.

Courtney and Anslov looked hard at Barrachus. Barrachus gave them a tight grin. He knew they wanted to hear his suspicions.

"Some time ago, when I was studying for my Mastery in the Old Order, I came across a text describing how the Ether responded to mass emotive states. It seemed to suggest that it is us humans, with our souls barely anchored to the World of Flesh, that create the gods of Ether. The power of a conscious soul is near to overwhelming on the Ethereal Plane, and if enough souls partake the same views, an actual independent being is created from nothing but our imagination. Hence, the olds Gods of myth and legend end up having some basis in fact, retroactively.

"Perhaps we can take that a step further. With Ascended on the scene, venereal disease and unwanted pregnancies have virtually disappeared, and everyone in the world is highly interested in sex, in all its free and not-so-free forms. I believe that it is possible that these changing social values might have actually created some kind of "Sex God" who in turn reinforces its control over humanity by concentrating on sex. Furthermore, if it truly became aware, it would recognize threats to itself and seek to eliminate them. Like Jake, and, I fear, like Ykir. They live half in the Ether, and could conceivably be more vulnerable to an emotion-based ethereal attack than we are. But of course, every bit of this is theory. Proof will have to wait until we get more information."

Courtney was nodding. The idea that someone would be influencing her Lord like this filled her with a rage beyond what she would have thought herself capable of. But it made sense. "So we are going to find Ykir and see if he's as horny as Jake is?" She shuddered. As likely the only woman going on this expedition, there was a very good chance she would get raped before this was over; there was no way she would be able to stop Ykir from taking her.

"I do not believe your danger to be that great, Courtney. Lord Jacob has not displayed an overt interest in taking a woman that he did not already consider 'his,' and I do not believe Ykir will differ that greatly from him. Recall the similarities between the two of them, personality- wise." Courtney nodded again, remembering that odd familiarity she had felt from Ykir, reacting as Jake would have to her questions and quips at that party so long ago. "I can't tell you it is without danger, because we just don't know enough, but I don't think your danger is much more than it has to be." Courtney sighed. She would do anything for Jake. Even this. Especially this. She had to.

"We are agreed, then?" Anslov asked. "We will move as planned. Tomorrow, we go on the offensive."

"Tomorrow." Courtney and Barrachus echoed in unison. Tomorrow.

Chapter 2

The club was called "Spirits," and Natalie smiled as she walked in the door. There was a great mixture of clientele, the music was always good, the dancing fantastic, and the drinks sublime. Truth, it was expensive, but it catered to those with expensive tastes. It was also only 4 blocks from her house, deep inside East Metro.

The club featured an angelic/ demonic theme, with the staff dressed in iridescent robes complete with glowing halos and shimmering wings, to various forms of incubi and succubi, and the occasional horny devil, all designed to add to the exotic allure of the place. The walls held dynamic murals depicting great battles between the forces of good and evil, subtly changing all but the landscapes. Many religious themes showed up frequently, from the Second Coming of Christ to Odin directing battle with a great hammer in one hand and a giant drinking horn in the other. The Seven Seals of Revelations was a favorite, resplendent with drama enough for all. As Natalie had walked in, she could just make out the scene of a demonic beast being cast into a fiery pit, as angels with swords still battled fiercely with their unearthly counterparts. Creepy, and cool. The club was great.

Someone had told her once that the area now covered by steel, concrete, and those crystal structures the Ascended were so fond of building used to be farmland in the middle of a place called "pencilvaned" or something, but that was hundreds of years before she was born, and history had at best bored her. Now it was simply another part of the Eastern Metropolis, a vast city that covered most of the eastern coast of North America. Progress was a wonderful thing, as far as she was concerned. It might make natural formations of trees, grass, and rocks a little less prevalent, but it also meant that she only had to walk for 15 minutes to get to a good club.

She was supposed to meet Shane at Spirits in a little less than half an hour, but had she decided to get there early, so that she would have some time to figure out what to say to him.

Shane was a nice guy, and she had considered something more between the two of them, but she just didn't feel interested in the same things he was. She was quite sure that Shane didn't see it the same way, and was probably expecting them to get serious by this point... having dated for almost two months. Sooner or later she needed to have the "let's be friends" talk with him, and she gave a lot of thought to doing that tonight.

It was early, and there was still room at the bar to sit. She made her way over and sat down, but before she could flag the bartender down, she had a young man sitting next to her, asking her poison.

The man was handsome enough, if a little intense, so she asked for a Rum and Coke. The bartender knew the way she liked them, but there was no need to turn down a free drink. She didn't feel committed to Shane, so had no reason to feel guilty. Actually, she was used to being hit on in clubs, one of the primary reasons she liked to go. She would never be a supermodel, but she was still worth a second glance to most men, and some women, too. Thick, dark tresses framed a smooth oval face with olive skin, high cheekbones, and full lips. Standing a respectable 5'4", with smooth legs and a well-shaped figure, she generally could have any man she desired.

Being modest, despite her natural beauty, she rarely flirted or propositioned anyone outright, however; romance was a game, and with any game, there were rules. Rule One was the man came after her, and if she liked him, she kept talking to him, not the other way around. It was very chic nowadays for the woman to choose the man and take him someplace private, but that was usually for those who could not afford to wait for Mr. Right.

In what seemed like seconds, the young man was back with her drink, and she really took a good look at him. He fit the definition of tall, dark, and handsome with plenty of breathing room. Standing about 6'6", he had a muscular build with broad shoulders and a thin waist, giving that classic bodybuilder image. He looked to be in his early thirties, with wavy brown hair and deep blue eyes. His straight nose accentuated a hard angularity in his face, but taken in part with everything else, it made him look even more impressive. Curiously, there was little expression on his face, although those beautiful eyes glittered with some suppressed emotion. Natalie felt a little thrill pass through her as she smiled up at him.

"I'm Natalie. What's your name?" The man's face blinked in surprise and grinned, showing a perfect set of teeth. The smile was almost rueful, but for a moment, Natalie felt like she had made a mistake, just giving him her name. The thrill she felt turned into a small, almost unnoticeable shiver.

"I am called Erophys." His voice, deep and intimate, almost made her gasp. It was almost as if she could feel his voice, gripping at her, calling to her, caressing her... it came as little surprise to discover she was feeling hornier than she had in a long time, perhaps ever. Horny for him. For that voice. Flustered, she cast about for a conversation starter, before those eyes and that voice of his could invade her more deeply.

"I- I haven't seen you here before. Do you come here often?" As soon as the words passed her lips, she cursed to herself for the inane clich�, but he just smiled again. Strangely enough, his eyes never changed in their intensity. She found it very difficult to look away from them.

"I have a... room... on the next block. Join me," he said, and his voice gripped her again. She was already standing up with a foolish grin on her face before his words registered. A room! She just learned his name! But even though the rational part of her mind battled his wildly inappropriate proposition, her body, very much craving what he offered, followed meekly as he held the door open for her. Her mind worked feverishly to negate the tacit submission she had offered, but no options sprang to her mind. Ah, hell, she thought, this promises to be more fun than arguing with Shane anyways. Now maybe he'll want to break up with me .

The evening air was chilly for summer, with a bit of a breeze running down the street, but Natalie hardly felt it. Her mind and body were so assailed with sensation and emotion that coherent thought was nearly impossible. In seconds, it seemed, they were in the elevator going up to his hotel room. In the elevator, his arm slid around her waist, and pulled her closer. She melted against him, resting her head against his chest. Idly, she wondered aloud what cologne fragrance he was wearing.

Erophys stiffened. "What do you mean, cologne fragrance?"

Natalie turned her head up to look at him in surprise. "That scent, like the air after a thundershower. Very primal, natural. It smells good." She was perplexed at his tense reaction.

Erophys stared at her for a moment, then said, "I forget the name," in a tone that brooked little argument. He stared forward again, and Natalie, snuggled back into his chest.

The elevator door slid open and Erophys guided her to the fifth door down the hallway. The door, recognizing its patron, opened immediately and closed behind them. Erophys did not slow down until he reached the foot of his bed, then whirled Natalie around and crushed her to him, kissing her with a shocking ferocity. After the first stiffening in surprise, she relaxed as his tongue savagely explored her mouth, while his hands found purchase on the seams of her blouse and violently ripped it off her body.

Passion overwhelmed all reason with Natalie. Dimly, she was aware how alarming this was getting, but she had never in her life been so turned on by anyone. Every part of her ached to be touched, squeezed, pinched, prodded... and poked. Especially poked. Welts appeared on her skin from him wrestling with her brassiere, and she could feel the pain, but it only fueled her desire to be used by this man. She began trying to remove his clothes with the abandon he had displayed, but he beat her to it, shucking off his shirt and pants almost instantaneously, then roughly turning her around and bending her over his bed. His black silk boxers barely restrained his hardening member, and he rubbed it against her cotton pants as she pressed back into him.

Natalie was already breathing hard in excitement, wet beyond belief and desperately horny. Erophys' cock rubbing against her opening on the other side of the thin fabric was unbearably erotic, the sweetest torture she had ever experienced. She felt his hands hold her waist firmly as his fingers found the waistline of her trousers and hooked into the seam, pulling it apart as if it were made of tissue paper. She winced at the cost of a new pair of pants, and at the bruising this rough treatment would bring tomorrow, but for the moment, she didn't care. She hadn't been wearing panties, and her total exposure to this stranger was an overpowering rush. Again, she felt his boxers press against her, and that which was behind the boxers. Groaning in need, she pressed against him, wiggling, enticing.

Abruptly, he stopped and pulled away. "Do you accept me, Natalie? Do you invite me to have my way with you?"

Natalie turned her head in askance, a tremor of something unpleasant dancing its way up and down her spine, but before she opened her mouth, she knew what she would say, even if she knew it was far from a good idea.

"Yes! Oh, please. I need you, don't stop now!"

No sooner had the words left her mouth than he pushed her to the bed, shucking off his underwear. Flipping her over onto her back with casual ease he straddled her chest, cock pointed straight at her forehead. Grabbing a handful of her hair, he jerked her head up until his dick was resting on her cheek. The pain threatened to overcome pleasure for Natalie, but she quickly adjusted herself. His eyes, unchanged, bore down on her. "Give me your mouth." he said, the command and power in his voice again draining the power of her will. Without thought, she opened her mouth to him, and he shoved his member in, gripping her head tightly in his hands.

This was nothing like the head she given a few of her boyfriends. Then, it had always been because they asked, and she had felt like pleasing them. This time, it was a demand that she submitted to. She had no control, and she knew it. She concentrated on not gagging as his cock slid up and down her throat. She couldn't understand the pure desire she felt, the agony of sexual tension that just kept building and building, but when she obeyed him, or pleased him, the pleasure grew. When he was done fucking her mouth, she would not be able to even speak for a week!

Natalie felt his rhythm change, and his long, deep strokes became short, quick ones. She sucked as his shaft slipped in and out between her lips, and he grunted, once, twice, and her mouth was filling with his juices. They were like a heady liquor, intoxicating and numbing at the same time. It burned as she swallowed, but she could see in his eyes that he expected her to swallow every bit of it. She desperately hoped that he was still up for more. She wanted real sex, dammit!

Erophys had gone still with the last of his spend, as if concentrating on something. Suddenly, he opened his eyes, staring down into hers. His softening cock, still in her mouth, quickly began to stiffen, and Natalie smiled around his flesh, giving it a playful flick of the tongue. There would indeed be a Round Two.

Extracting himself from her mouth, moved down to her crotch, feeling her folds and inserting his fingers into her pussy. There was no sensuality involved, no sensitivity, and if Erophys had been anyone else, she would not have put up with this manhandling of her most sensitive areas... but it was Erophys, and the control he had over her flooded her with longing and desire to please him, to be used by him. The degradation was erotic beyond anything she could have imagined.

Nodding to himself as if satisfied with the condition of her pussy, he pulled back, positioned his cock at her opening, and without further ceremony pushed into her. Natalie thought he must be the most insensitive guy she had ever had sex with, but the pleasure he gave her quickly drowned out all thought. What had been enjoyable before was now ecstasy.

Steadily, he pumped in an out, in and out, while Natalie surfed a cresting wave of nirvana. Her eyes stared straight at the ceiling, mouth open in a wide gape of constant astonishment, amazed as each pinnacle of pleasure she reached revealed another even higher. Orgasm after orgasm boiled in her body sending her into uncontrollable quivering as the onslaught of emotions continued unabated.

As before, his rhythm abruptly changed and his thrusts became short, staccato movements. Again, a few grunts, and Natalie, in her haze of mind-blowing orgasms, felt his seed jet into her. This burned, too, and probably would have even been painful if she hadn't already been full of endorphins. Again, he concentrated for a minute before removing his dick from her. Still dazed, she looked into his eyes and smiled again. He did not smile back. Again, she felt a chill, as though something was not quite right and getting worse, but had no idea what it could be.

Incredibly, she watched his dick harden again and wondered if she was fucking one of the Ascended. It was said that some of them could do things with their mind to make them super virile, but she could hardly have cared. That was by far the best sex she had ever had. She met his eyes again. "Are we up for Round Three already?" She asked with a coy smile. Again, he did not return the smile.

"Yes. Turn over." That voice would swallow a woman, even if the words were less than romantic.

"You want to do it doggy-style? Ok, whatever you say," she said, turning over and getting on her hands and knees. After this session, though, she was going to need a shower and a good night's sleep. This much sexual energy maintained at such a level for this long was just not something she was used to. Hopefully, he'd stick around for a while though. What an amazing night this was turning out to be!

Seconds after assuming "the position," Erophys pushed her shoulders into the mattress. Blinking as she tried to move her head about to see what he was up to, she felt his dick at the entrance to her ass. "No!" She cried as she struggled to get up. Erophys pushed her down again, firmly, and forced about two inches into her ass. Natalie shrieked. There was no pleasure this time, only disgust and horror and pain. She thought anal sex wrong and unnatural, and wanted no part of it, but she couldn't seem to make Erophys understand that.

Erophys thrusted again and his cock penetrated even further into her. Her struggling was making the invasion of her sphincter even more painful and she was crying into a pillow for Erophys to stop, but he couldn't seem to understand. Understand? She thought. He just doesn't care! Suddenly she realized she was being raped. She began to struggle even harder.

Erophys reached under to one of her tits and twisted hard, forcing her head into the pillow as she screamed in muffled agony. "Stop struggling. I will be done in a moment. No need for you to hurt more than you have to." That voice, so caressing before, was now cruel, commanding.

Still, even with his true nature revealed, her body responded to his commands, and she ceased struggling, crying softly into the pillow in pain and humiliation as he abused her ass.

Each thrust felt like fire burning anew, and each time he pulled away she wished it were over. Then he would thrust again. Her mind formed a mantra in time to his strokes. Thrust. This is my punishment for being stupid. Withdraw. Please let it be done. Thrust. This is my punishment for being stupid. Withdraw. Oh, please let it be done.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, his pattern changed again, and she knew her ordeal was almost over. A few moments of quick, short strokes (which hurt more than the long ones, but she knew the end was coming) and then he was clutching her hips to him, fully buried deep inside her, and trembling as she felt his fluids pulse inside her. It did burn, and it was painful, but not as painful as the suffering she had just endured.

She waited for a few minutes, knowing he was doing his concentrating thing again, trying to get her tears under control. When he started pulling out of her, she murmured to him in a broken voice, "You have raped me."

Erophys did not pause. "Unfortunate that you did not enjoy that last part. It might have been easier for you. Regardless, you invited me to have my way with you, and I did. I am sorry for what must come next, but it is also my way. As you invited me to partake."

Natalie felt a thrill of terror as she realized what he must mean and tried to twist around to see his expression, but quickly he pushed her face into the pillow. She bucked against him, adrenaline flooding her veins as she struggled against his incredible strength, desperately trying to breathe through the thickness of the pillow. She tried kicking him, but he was already between her legs. She tried scratching him, but the angle of his arms against the back of her head was wrong. She tried prying his hands off, and slipping her head sideways for a sweet breath of cool, fresh air, but he held her firm. In moments, her struggles were only half their original strength, and moments after that, hardly noticeable at all.

When her movement had ceased completely, Erophys moved one hand from her head and checked for pulse; there was none. He felt the last of her essence flow into him. Sighing, he released her head and turned her over. She looked peaceful in death, composed. That was a blessing, at least. He felt sorry for her.

"This empathy of yours in unnatural, Erophys," a woman said as she materialized behind him. Contempt filled her voice. "Why do you hate being what you are? Embrace it, revel in it! The girl was weak enough to go under your spell with nothing more than the Second Voice! She was not worthy of mourning!"

Erophys reluctantly turned around to face her. Lilith was a rapturous looking woman, all curves, with a vampish smile. Jet black hair tousled around her head set off almost glowing green eyes. She looked every part a seductress from Hell, and for all intents and purposes, that's exactly what she was. "Lilith, what an unexpected... pleasure. Perhaps you should have come earlier."

Lilith laughed at the implied threat. "You should be less cavalier about offers like that, Erophys. It is by no means certain who would survive that encounter. But, as always between our kind and yours, my business with you is just that--business. The Ascended have met. They are sending a party to find Ykir. Much good as it will do them."

Erophys frowned. "Then they have noticed. Or most likely they have simply become suspicious of circumstance and coincidence. We have been careful, but it was inevitable."

"Of course, but not so soon. And why send for Ykir? They have Lord Jacob. Surely we are not so much a threat that they think it will require both of them? Plus the Ascended?"

"Will it not, and perhaps more besides?"

"Perhaps so, but if they already suspect that at this juncture, it is a serious matter. We are not ready to move, yet. We won't be for some years to come. If they bring the battle to us, we are undone. The Council is meeting."

"What do I care?" His eyes turned back towards the young woman laying on the bed. He had glutted on the strength and purity of her emotions. It rankled him that for all his experience and power and control, he still could not stop himself from killing the poor creature. "I am flawed, you said so yourself. What should the Council think of my opinion?"

Lilith grunted noncommittally. "Flawed or not, you stand as one of the most powerful of our kind, and that entitles you to a say in our strategies. Whether you like it or not."

Yet again Erophys found himself sighing. Sometimes there was just no way around it. "When do they meet?"

"Tomorrow, midnight. Same place as last time."

Erophys nodded and turned away. "I will be there." He did not need to look to know that Lilith had already left the same way she had come.

He looked back at the still form on the bed. As soon as he had seen her enter the club, he could smell her desire for passion, her innocence, her openness, and he had been powerless against his own hungers. He knew what would happen to her later that night. He tried being as unfriendly as he could, as unattractive as possible, but she hadn't even noticed, just followed him blindly. Giving her name right off as way of introduction, with no idea of the power it gave him over her. He had tried not to use it, but it was like trying not to eat a juicy steak that's been set down beside you when you were starving to death. Unfortunate. He was sure he would have liked to have gotten to know her.

"Goodbye, Natalie. Wish we could have worked things out." He reached into the Ether, and let it take him away.

The room was still.