The Devil's Beloved, a Steamy MM Fantasy Romance (part eleven)
The Lash of Lovers
I have returned.
After a brief sabbatical, I am once again focused on the mission that rises above all others: Finishing my quest to acquire the ingredients for my mother's cookie recipe.
What was that?
No, Blarg, I'm not trying to distract myself.
I'm pleased to announce I've found the final fixings. One of the recipe’s most important flavoring agents is ground cockatrice toenails.
For those of you unfamiliar with the cockatrice, it’s an animal with the wings of a bat, the head of a rooster, and the body of a serpent.
These fellows will sneak into a hen house, use their handsome rooster visage to enchant the hens, and then once the ladies are distracted, they turn around and gobble up all of the eggs.
I've attempted to find a comparable spice in the human world; every week, Blarg returns from the grocery store with a half-dozen new bottles from the spice racks. I make regular sugar cookie recipes and mix in each new spice to see how they taste in cookie dough.
Here are some of my findings:
Dill: grassy, tastes strange in a cookie context.
Garlic: Excellent if the goal is to ward off vampires (or anyone else for that matter) but wretched as a dessert flavoring.
Juniper: This one made the dough taste like pinecones, although the batch was popular with the local squirrels.
This went on for a while. I thought all was lost, until on a whim I tried a spice called "nutmeg".
Oh, glory day! It’s exactly like dusted cockatrice toenail, minus the essence of vitriolic rooster.
Only one ingredient remains: dragon eggs.
As luck would have it, Blarg has noted nesting behaviors in Agatha. She’s been pacing the apartment's perimeter and digging furiously in the soil of our lone potted Ficus. If she lays her eggs, I’ll finally have all the needed ingredients to finish mother's recipe.
Now, let's get back to our tale. It would seem our lovers are about to face the judgment of Heaven…
***
Tzyeriel and Satan silently watched the movement of the ocean waves. Neither noticed the locust that momentarily landed on the Seraph's shoulder before flying off.
Satan wondered who might rule over Hell in his absence. The demon lords would probably try to invade their neighbors territory until Heaven appointed a new leader. Until then, anarchy would be the law of the land.
Tzyeriel was focused on how grateful he was to have finally found his true love. Even if this whole thing ended in tragedy, he knew he’d always have the memories of their time together hidden away in his heart like some grand treasure.
The silence was broken by a dozen gruff, angry voices shouting in the distance. The lovers turned to see what all of the commotion was about.
Several warrior angels flew swiftly toward them. The multitude closed ranks, creating an impenetrable wall to cage them in.
Archangel Michael descended from above, scowling down at them both. He bellowed,
"Tzyeriel and Satan, you have both been found guilty of carnal impropriety, and shall be punished for your transgressions!"
At his side stood Abaddon, who seemed especially pleased with himself. Satan stared at him maliciously, angered by his betrayal.
The accused angels stood holding hands, awaiting their judgment. Michael landed on the beach and walked toward them. With every step, the ground shook as if struck by a small earthquake.
The Archangel stopped a few feet away from them, angrily looked down at Satan, and said,
“Satan, I’m to administer your punishment here in Hell, as nobody wants filth such as you present in any part of Heaven!"
He turned his penetrating gaze to Tzyeriel, and continued,
"As for you, after we’re done with him, you’ll be taken into custody and made to stand trial. You have no idea how much shame your actions have brought upon us!”
Michael motioned to his soldiers. They roughly yanked Satan away from Tzyeriel, ripped off his red robe, and threw him down onto the sand. One of the armored angels pulled out a whip, about to take the lash to him, when Abaddon shouted,
"I think I may have a better punishment in mind!"
They turned to him. The dark angel said,
"I torment sinners all day, there's an art to it." He pointed at Tzyeriel and said,
"If you really want to punish these treacherous angels, have him be the one to whip Satan. After all, Tzyeriel is an angel of wrath, shouldn't he be the one to inflict pain on such a wretched sinner? And just imagine the extra layer of suffering he’ll feel, having to be the one to cause his lover such anguish!"
Michael was disgusted by the obvious glee in Abaddon’s voice, but he made a good point. The Archangel nodded to the soldier holding the whip over Satan's prone figure. The enforcer backed away, motioning for Tzyeriel to take his place.
He obeyed reluctantly. The Seraph enjoyed punishing the wicked, but felt Satan had done nothing wrong. Tzyeriel took out the ornate lash that hung buckled to his belt, and towered over his dearest one, mentally preparing himself for the task at hand.
Satan looked up at him and said,
"It's alright. It's your job to punish sinners, and I have been especially sinful as of late." The slightest smirk played across Satan's lips.
Tzyeriel nodded, raised the whip, and swiftly tore into his flesh.
At first, the sharp impact of the thin leather strips caused Satan biting surges of pain. He clenched his eyes shut as he let out a loud wail of pain.
It went on like this for the first few strokes, but then his cries of suffering began giving way to ones of pleasure.
Tzyeriel realized what was happening, and started enjoying the entire endeavor. If his infernal prince found joy at the end of a lash, he would take equal parts delight in administering every brilliant red stroke.
The soldiers were confused, not knowing what to make of the scene in front of them. Satan was being severely punished, but seemed to be relishing the whole ordeal.
Abaddon only managed to prevent himself from howling with laughter by biting his tongue.
One of the soldiers looked up at his commander and said,
"Sir, I think he... likes it?" The Archangel shook his head, and replied,
"It must be one of the old snake's tricks; Satan probably thinks we'll stop if we believe he's enjoying it."
Michael was as stubborn as always. The soldier replied,
"It might be because I'm able to see things from a different vantage point, but-"
Tzyeriel smacked Satan particularly hard, to which he let out a cry of pure, unadulterated bliss. The soldier shook his head, looked back up at Michael, and continued,
"But it would appear Satan is having a... um... physical reaction...." Michael stared at him for a moment, and asked,
"What on Earth are you talking about?"
The soldier hated having to be the one to explain it, but the alternative was to have the indecent display go on.
He discussed certain reactions male anatomy could have during moments of intense arousal.
The other armored angels looked at him as if he'd lost his mind, but Michael decided to check the veracity of his observations, shouting,
"Tzyeriel, stop!"
He paused, putting his whip back into its loop. Michael turned to the soldier who'd brought up Satan's reaction, and said,
"Go and see if he is... ugh... enjoying himself." The soldier started to protest when Abaddon interrupted,
"Sir, I am one forged by the abyss. I’ve spent thousands of years dealing with unspeakable horrors of every kind, permit me the burden of taking on such a deplorable task..." Michael grimaced and replied,
"Fine, go check him."
Abaddon grinned as he strolled over to the panting goat-legged angel. He reached down, grabbing hold of Satan’s manhood. The bleeding figure responded with a soft groan. Abaddon smirked, turned back to Michael, and shouted,
"Oh yes, it seems he's been having quite a lovely time. My word, we’ve a real debaucherous one here!”
He turned back to Satan and whispered,
"Right, my love?"
Abaddon grinned viciously and headed back to the waiting soldiers.
Michael stormed over to Satan’s prone figure and spat upon him. The former king desperately wanted to cling to whatever shred of dignity he had left, so he said nothing, using every remaining ounce of strength to hide his despair.
Michael puffed out his chest as he bellowed,
"Satan, you will henceforth have no backing from Heaven! We tolerated you because you kept order in Hell, but the sin you committed was unforgivable. I’ll be sending my decree to all the princes of the abyss. If you value your own skin, you will leave Hell immediately!”
Michael sneered, finishing with,
"You vile serpent."
He turned to Tzyeriel, angrily shouting,
"Tzyeriel, we're leaving!" Michael glared at the Seraph, who responded by spreading his wings as if he were about to take off with the others. Suddenly, he ran at top speed, leaped towards Satan, holding him in his arms. Tzyeriel looked deep into his lover's eyes and said,
"If I’m never to see you again, let this be the greatest moment I’ll ever share with another!"
He pressed his lips against Satan’s. The two embraced, kissing each other with a passion as powerful as the drive for life itself.
The soldiers nabbed Tzyeriel, dragging him away. Even while they placed chains upon him, he refused to break eye contact with his beloved. As they pulled him up into the sky, he shouted,
"I love you! I adore you! I-"
One of the soldiers punched him in the back of the head, causing Tzyeriel to pass out. Satan watched in despair. His heart, which had only just started feeling love for the first time, was already breaking.
***
Oh, rapture!
As I dictated this post to Stinksnort, a scratching sound came from the windowsill. I turned to see Agatha climbing from the Ficus pot with a look of triumph spread across her face.
The moment is at hand; the dragon queen has laid her clutch!
Blarg is absolutely ecstatic. He’s been going on and on about how she’ll soon be a mother. I pointed out that there haven't been any male dragons present, thus the eggs couldn't possibly be fertilized, but he insists she might have figured out a way to sneak away in the middle of the night with a scaly Lothario.
I've decided to humor him by allowing some time to pass to see if they hatch.
Until next time…