Goetic Justice 9

Chapter 9: Revelry of the Seirim

Ryan made his way between the dense trees, dead leaves and dried twigs cracking underfoot as he trekked through the forest. The moon was high in a cloudless sky and even through what was left of the late autumn canopy he could see well enough that he didn’t need his flashlight.

The forest was deserted, he hadn’t come across anybody, even on the more accessible trails. Not to say that it was still or quiet. Despite the late season, there was fresh growth everywhere, and the air was full of insects. Clouds of drifting fireflies floated between the trunks of the birch trees, blinking their ghostly lights, each a little nebula in its own right. Bats screeched in the sky above him, and beautiful moths fluttered about on the breeze, their fuzzy bodies as colorful and as ornate as any butterfly. Flowering vines were starting to choke some of the trees, already beginning to bloom in shades of red, pink and yellow. It was as if the presence of the Seirim and their master had invigorated the forest, injecting new life into it.

He started as he heard a stick snap some distance away, stopping in his tracks and attempting to pierce the gloom, seeing what looked like a deer darting away into the undergrowth. Despite the impending winter, even large animals were out and about, as if they were being drawn to the same place that he was.

He continued on his way, hopping over exposed roots and rocky outcrops, wading through waist-high ferns and plants as he searched for the clearing. He had a pretty good sense of direction, and it wasn’t too far of a walk, he should start coming across the sigils that he had carved into the trees before long.

As he leaned against one of the trunks to rest for a moment, he noticed one such carving beneath his gloved hand, he was on the right track.

As he neared the clearing, he saw a glow in the distance, the orange blaze of what must have been one of their lauded bonfires was illuminating the forest. To be seen at this distance it must have been huge indeed, and yet there was no plume of smoke that rose above the trees to betray its location. Magick fire maybe, who knew with these demons?

As he got closer, he began to hear faint music, as if a band was playing. There was the twang of stringed instruments, the pulsing beat of drums and the whistle of woodwind that might have come from pipes or flutes. It reminded him of the music that he had heard in his head when he had made love to Nahash, the style was jarring and obviously ancient, songs that had been written thousands of years before his birth.

What he had originally assumed to be the flickering of the flames was revealed to be a dozen figures dancing around the periphery of the bonfire, their dark silhouettes framed against the glow, their bodies gyrating and twisting in a frenzy. They all looked like Nahash, all female, but their height and body type varied a little from what he could make out at that distance. Off to one side, Azazel was sat on the ground, his long arms draped over his knees. His black fur was lit by the fire, casting him in an eerie glow, his three red eyes burning like molten metal as he watched the Seirim cavort. Even sitting, he was so much taller than a human and his mass was immense, like an ogre with spiraling horns.

The licking flames must have been fifteen feet high, the bonfire at least eight or nine feet across as it lay in the center of the summoning circle, piled with heavy logs that would have been beyond human capacity to lift and ringed by the stones that Ryan had placed around it.

As he lurked at the tree line, unsure of whether he should announce himself or not, the music petered out. Azazel’s monstrous head turned in his direction to stare at him with its trio of red eyes. The Seirim stopped their dancing and followed suit, turning their horned heads to watch him, a dozen pairs of yellow eyes shining in the night.

“It seems that our guest has arrived,” it boomed, its baritone voice carrying over the trees and echoing through the forest. “You are welcome here, Ryan Cutter, you need not hide in the shadows. Come, join us.”

Even when Azazel was being polite, it came off sinister and threatening. Ryan crept out from between the trunks and started to walk across the clearing. Something about Azazel was just off, as if there was some primal instinct deep inside him that was trying to warn him away from the beast. Its stare sent chills down his spine and made the hair on his arms stand on end.

His mood lightened however when he saw one of the Seirim step forward, the reflective glint of her amber eyes somehow familiar, the comely shape of her body visible against the backdrop of flame. His pace increased to a jog, Nahash advancing to meet him on her digitigrade legs, and he flung himself into her waiting arms. She wrapped them around him, cupping her hand around the back of his head to press his face into the soft wool above her ample chest, Ryan squeezing her large body and breathing in a lungful of her sweet scent. His fingers didn’t quite meet around her waist, but he did his best to return her embrace. Her smooth skin was warm and inviting, the downy fur that lined her neck and shoulders comforting him as he rubbed his cheek in it. He felt his doubts melt away, not because of her empathic powers but because he was finally able to reach out and touch her again. The plan had worked, she was here, and she was manifest. Azazel and his band of Seirim must have energy enough to spare.

He turned his head up, prying himself away from the luxury of her wooly chest, and saw her golden eyes peering down at him as her pink lips curled into a warm smile.

“I once called you a novice,” she whispered, “but you have proven yourself an admirable exorcist.”

“A strange specimen indeed,” Azazel’s voice rumbled, the creature apparently able to hear them even from so far away. “You have ensnared a rare prize here, Nahash. This mortal covets more than just your flesh, and he has proven himself a worthy ally indeed. I have dwelt amongst his kind since the time of the fall, and I have never before seen his like.”

Nahash fawned over him, running her clawed fingers through his hair, pulling him tightly against her plush body as if guarding him from the jealous eyes of her sisters who watched them still.

“You know his heart,” Azazel continued, rising slowly to its feet and plodding around the circumference of the bonfire on hooves the size of dinner plates. It stood nearly as tall as the flames, the light casting ominous shadows across its shaggy fur, its white teeth flashing as it spoke. “What is it that you desire, my daughter? I have offered this child of Adam a payment for his services, a reward. But your heart is wild, it is not mine to give.”

It seemed that these were not merely Azazel’s creations as Ryan had initially assumed, but its literal offspring. Judging by how much more bestial their father was, had it conceived them with human women? Were the Seirim hybrids of some kind, could that be the origin of their softer and more human features? That aligned with what some of the ancient texts told of the rebellious Watchers, that their taking of human wives had angered God and it was for that reason that they had been cast out. There were so many burning questions that Ryan longed to ask, but now wasn’t the right time.

Nahash turned her head to look up at her father, clinging to Ryan possessively.

“I want him, father. He is kind and charitable, his love for me is pure.”

The furred monster grinned widely and then turned its attention towards Ryan.

“And this is your desire also, Ryan Cutter?”

“Yes,” he replied adamantly. Azazel laughed uproariously, raising its heavy head to the sky and seeming to bray at the full moon, its powerful voice shaking his bones.

“Then I shall bind her to you, a marriage between spirit and mortal,” it bellowed. It turned to the sky again and bleated like a goat, an oddly unnerving sound coming from such a massive creature. “This, the creator loathes above all things,” it explained. “An unholy union between man and demon, his creation corrupted and his law betrayed. My kin and I were cast out of paradise for the very same transgression. On top of all that you have risked thus far, you will break this sacred covenant?”

Ryan considered for a moment. Was he really about to go against some holy imperative? There seemed to be a God, and he was about to offend him gravely if he had not done so already. Oh, what did it matter? He had been in over his head from the very moment that he had chalked the summoning circle on the floor of his apartment.

“Well,” he replied, “what’s he done for me lately?”

Azazel clapped its massive hands together, a sound like thunder ringing out across the forest, and again it laughed heartily at the situation. It seemed to take great pleasure in the fact that Ryan was about to commit a grave sin. Azazel was the original rebel, after all, perhaps it would take any opportunity to spite its heavenly enemy.

“A spirit can be bound to an object,” it elaborated, “which serves to anchor it to this material plane. It will forever be a beacon, drawing that spirit to it, calling to it across the gulfs of time and space.”

Nahash took a step away from Ryan, raising her hand into the air, her palm facing her. Through its maniacal laughter, Azazel waved its gigantic arm, Ryan watching in awe as a ring of black smoke began to form around one of her digits. The vapors coalesced, becoming a solid object, forming a wedding band around her clawed finger that was as black as coal. She flashed her golden eyes at him, blinking her long lashes, and he felt something in his own hand.

He raised it to his face, watching the dark vapors circle his ring finger, becoming tight as it manifested a matching band. It was heavy, made from something like tungsten no doubt, circled with almost imperceptible runes and sigils of undeterminable purpose that were etched into its shiny surface.

These were wedding rings. Perhaps in an attempt to further pervert the laws that had seen him banished from heaven, Azazel had given the object of binding this shape. Ryan couldn’t be sure if this was a parody of marriage designed only to offend or if the fallen angel was showing signs of sentiment, but it nevertheless filled Ryan’s heart with love for his betrothed. This binding ritual was even more permanent and lasting than a marriage, her spirit would be drawn to him now, like a moth to a lantern in a dark forest.

“It is done…” Azazel announced as the pair looked between one another and their new adornments. “Her spirit is bound to that ring, like a Jinn in its bottle, a cursed item. Because of your actions, mortal, we are gorged on energy. She will be able to appear whenever and wherever you wish, and as long as you carry that ring, you will have no need of circles or wards. This is my gift to you.”

So as long as Ryan wore this ring, she would be able to home in on him wherever he might be, appearing at his side as if he had gone through all of the motions and steps necessary to summon a demon? No need for nine-foot wide, intricately detailed summoning circles, no need for incantations and wards. It was perfect.

“Thank you,” Ryan said, not sure how else to express his gratitude to the creature. Azazel chuckled, turning away and lumbering back over to its place beside the bonfire. It sat heavily, the ground shaking beneath Ryan’s feet, and directed its three ruby eyes towards him.

“The debt has been repaid. Now, we celebrate!”

The flames exploded into activity, burning brighter and more violently, roaring into the night sky as the bonfire spat sparks and glowing embers into the air. The music resumed, although nobody seemed to be playing any of the instruments that Ryan could so distinctly hear, the Seirim continuing their hypnotic dancing as they circled the fire.

Their movements were graceful and fluid, unearthly, moving in ways that no human dancer could have approximated. There was a sexual energy to their dance, the thrusting of their wide hips undulating and sensuous as their pulsing motions drew attention to their womanly figures. They pranced on their long, goat-like legs, leaping and spinning as if they weighed nothing. They drew shapes in the air with their balletic arm movements, tossing their horned heads, an infinite variety of complex and textured movements syncing with the beat of the unseen drums.

Nahash turned and led Ryan by the hand towards the circle of dancing figures, he could feel the heat on his face as they got closer, her tall frame casting a flickering shadow over him as he followed behind her. He hoped that she wasn’t intending for them to dance together. Even with a fellow human, he wouldn’t have fared too well, keeping up with the Seirim would be physically impossible.

“You need not dance,” she laughed, obviously sensing his apprehension. “I was trapped in the immaterium for a time. After you completed your contract with Orobas, he had no more use of me, and so I was stowed away in that soup of thought and emotion until Azazel came for me.”

She stopped and turned to face him, the fire raging not three feet behind her. Despite her proximity, her delicate wool did not singe, and she did not seem uncomfortable in the least. She took his hands in hers, her skin cool and soft, and gazed down at him with those amber eyes.

“I had a lot of time to think, to ponder my situation and to miss my corporeal form. I pined for sensations, touch and taste, warmth and pleasure. But more than that, I found that I missed you. You are the only mortal and the only entity outside of my tribe who has ever considered what I might have wanted. You didn’t think about what I could do for you, what purpose I might serve or what there was to be gained through me. Rather you treated me as a person, a fellow being with thoughts and feelings of their own. You freed me from bondage with no expectation of a reward.”

She hooked her arms around him and pulled him close, her clawed fingers delving into his hair, pushing his face into the feathery wool of her chest. He breathed in her earthy aroma, hearing her heart beat beneath her skin, his hands finding their place around her hips.

“I am your reward,” she whispered, a shiver running down his spine as she breathed warm air on his ear. “This time it is my choice, I will decide to whom I am bound, and I have chosen you.”

She turned his chin up her with her finger, pressing her full lips against his, her dexterous tongue winding its way into his mouth to deliver a slow and powerful kiss that made him weak at the knees. He leaned into her, his hands roaming across her glass-smooth skin, his fingers sinking into yielding flesh. How he had missed her, her taste and smell, the feeling of her inviting body beneath his hands…

He glanced over at Azazel, the giant beast watching them with a toothy grin, then slowed his pace and broke away from Nahash’s embrace.

“Maybe we should, uh … isn’t he like … your father or something?”

She put a hand to her mouth and chuckled daintily, batting her long eyelashes at him.

“It was he who taught man to sin. I was made for this, you need not worry about offending Azazel.”

“Come,” Azazel bellowed, “join us in our revelry.”

It waved its long arm, and suddenly Ryan noticed a ring of tables that circled the fire between the dancing Seirim and the stones that served as its border. Had those been there before? No, he hadn’t seen them, or at least he hadn’t noticed them before Azazel had drawn his attention to them. They were carved from wood, polished to a sheen, their legs hewn into elaborate sculptures and their tops decorated with inlaid geometric patterns. They were a dozen of them, each with a subtle curve so that once joined together they formed a perfect, ten-foot ring.

The dancing figures stepped back from them, and Azazel waved its massive hand again, claws the size of meat hooks extending from its furry fingers. Before Ryan’s eyes, a smorgasbord of food materialized, popping into reality from thin air. The effect might have been almost comical had he not been in the presence of the demons, their inhuman faces lit by the crackling flames.

There were bowls filled to the brim with ripe fruits, wicker baskets packed with berries and grapes, goblets of sparkling wine and roasted meats glazed with honey that looked as if they had left the oven only moments ago. Had Azazel conjured all of this itself? Was it so powerful that it could will anything that it liked into existence? Ryan had seen Nahash influence his senses in order to create convincing illusions, but they were just that, illusions.

He walked towards the fire, the Seirim parting to grant him access, each as tall and as impressively endowed as Nahash was. They stood to either side of him on their long legs, peering down at him with their reflective eyes, each with a slightly different assortment of twisted horns that sprouted from their heads. He reached across the table and picked up a shiny, red apple from one of the bowls, its skin coated in droplets of dew. It was the most appetizing fruit that he had ever seen, but he hesitated, looking back towards Nahash for confirmation. She nodded and so he sank his teeth into it, the firm flesh cracking and its sweet juice pricking his tongue. He chewed and then swallowed, savoring the taste as it lingered in his mouth. It was delicious, as if all of the qualities of an apple had been concentrated and refined, giving it the perfect taste and texture. If it was an illusion and in reality his hand was empty, then it was a convincing one.

“Eat, drink!” Azazel laughed as it flung its arms into the air. The Seirim crowded around the tables, Nahash sidling up next to Ryan as he helped himself to the huge variety of food, the ever-present music changing tempo to become placating and relaxing. The Seirim were ravenous, putting their new bodies to good use, red wine escaping from their lips to stain their white wool as they drank heartily. They tore strips of glazed turkey and pork from the bone, popping fat grapes between their teeth and chewing mouthfuls of strawberries, washing it all down with tankards of frothing ale.

Ryan lived in a developed country and food was never scarce, but even to him, these delicacies were a rare treat. What might a wandering tribesman have thought of such a display five thousand years ago?

Some of the Seirim resumed their mesmerizing dancing as others watched, clapping in time with the slow rhythm as their sisters performed, Azazel apparently unwilling to participate but finding amusement in it nonetheless.

Nahash was eating a loaf of bread that looked as if it had been baked in an ancient or foreign style, spread with cheese and butter, taking bites of a plump fig as she went. These were earthly spirits, they reveled in the simplest of sensations, desiring nothing more than to explore the limits of their senses. Encouraged, Ryan followed suit, pulling away a strip of roasted chicken with his fingers and taking a bite of the succulent meat. It was cooked and seasoned to perfection, the white meat moist and warm, the skin peeling away with a satisfying crunch. It was like a taste of heaven, and he resolved to try a little of everything, Nahash draping an arm around his neck and she gulped down a goblet of pink liquid.

“Drink,” she commanded, thrusting the cup into his hands. He took the goblet and raised it to his lips, a sweet nectar filling his mouth and his cheeks beginning to burn as its taste brought back a flood of sordid memories. It tasted exactly as she had the night they had made love, when she had used her powers to influence his perception, making her sexual fluids taste like the juices of a dozen fruits and berries. She leaned in and nibbled his ear gently, nuzzling the nape of his neck with her flat nose, fawning over him as she took back the cup and downed the last of the drink.

“What do you desire?” she asked. “Ales? Wines? Perhaps you wish to lay your head upon my lap while I feed you grapes?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” Ryan laughed, a pleasant shiver running down his spine as her warm lips kissed his neck.

“What would revelry be without drunken fumblings?”

She had become so uninhibited, the contrast between now and when she had been bound to Orobas was stark. This was the personality that Ryan had glimpsed in her rare moments of passion. She was a lush, flirting with him as if they had only just met. Ryan had rarely been on the receiving end of such advances, and it made his heart flutter.

“Our last encounter was so heated,” she said, leaning over his shoulder from behind and pressing her fat breasts against his back as she plucked a peach from one of the decorative bowls. She bit into the soft flesh, letting the juice drip from her lips conspicuously, droplets of it landing on her bust. “To be given but a taste of carnal delight after so many centuries, it was like taking the merest sip of water after a millennia of thirst. Not enough to sate the desire, only enough to remind me of how much I was missing.”

“The merest sip?” Ryan exclaimed as he turned to face her, lowering his voice in embarrassment as she smiled down at him and took another wet bite of her peach. “We did it to exhaustion.”

“I have a lot of lost time to make up for,” she replied, licking the fruit juice from her lips with her prehensile tongue. “And now that I am bound to you, I need not fear the scorn of Orobas. I can do as I please.”

She raised the peach over him, and crushed it in her fingers, squeezing out the sticky juice and letting it fall to his neck. It trickled down his shoulder, then she discarded the squashed fruit on the ground and pulled open his jacket along with the shirt that he wore beneath it. She exposed him to the cool night air, leaning down to run her hot tongue across his skin, lapping up the syrupy juice and mouthing gently as she went. Her sinuous organ licked up the fluid that had pooled in his clavicle, biting his shoulder softly as she moved higher, her smooth tongue grazing his throat as he tried his hardest not to loose a gasp that might draw the attention of her sisters.

They were already looking, however, chewing on their respective choices of food as they watched with covetous eyes that shone like gold in the firelight. They could sense his emotions just as Nahash could, they didn’t need to hear him to know that he was aroused and embarrassed, they didn’t need to see him to know that his erection was straining against his jeans.

Nahash noticed that he was glancing at them, his cheeks burning almost as hot as the licking flames, and she turned her head to smirk at them.

“My sisters are seething with jealousy. The scent of a man is on the air, and yet they cannot have him. They cannot sate their lust, they must suppress their nature. Azazel has hidden this clearing from outsiders tonight, and so they cannot lure a mate of their own.” She giggled salaciously, nipping his ear in her teeth as she whispered to him. “I had considered sharing you with them, would you have enjoyed that? I have endured the same drought that they have, I sympathize with their plight, they are my siblings after all. But now that I am bound to you, you are mine alone to enjoy.”

She pulled away and thrust a foaming tankard of ale into his hands, sucking her fingers clean of peach juice.

“Drink, relax. You are among friends. These are your people now.”

The other Seirim were dancing again, and the tempo of the music was rising, becoming jovial and festive as they pranced about and feasted.

Nahash was right, what did he have to fear? He was an exorcist now, the guest of honor, it was safe to let his guard down and chill out for a little while. He took a draw from the tankard, Nahash patting his shoulder in encouragement, laughing at his froth-mustache as he wiped it away with his sleeve.

“Okay,” he said, “let’s party like it’s three-thousand BC.”

xxxxx

The festivities continued late into the night, Ryan and his new Seirim friends growing drunker and more rowdy as the full moon slowly sailed across the starry sky, the food and alcohol replenishing itself almost the moment that it was consumed. As Ryan grew tipsy, his inhibitions slowly left him, even daring to attempt a dance with Nahash that ended in laughter all around when he was woefully unable to keep up with her graceful and inhumanly flexible moves.

More than once a curious Seirim had to be shooed away by a protective Nahash when they got too close to her prize, sneaking an arm around him and trying to draw him away from the group or tempting him with some new morsel of food that he had not yet tasted. They were accustomed to seducing mortals, and like teasing a hungry dog with a bone, Ryan’s proximity seemed to ignite their more predatory instincts.

Nahash did not seem overly concerned, and though Ryan had no interest in anyone besides her, he had to admit that the female attention was a welcome boost to his confidence, even if it was more a result of their nature than his charms. He had never been much of a party goer. He always found that the loud music in clubs prohibited conversation, but the atmosphere at the Seirim bonfire was laid back, and their interactions were refreshingly simple.

Even Azazel joined in on the conversation, so much less intimidating when it was laughing at a joke or recounting a humorous story, Ryan quizzing the demons about ancient history and magick as they probed him for details about the modern era in turn. They were greatly amused when he pulled out his cellphone and attempted to explain the internet to them using the immaterium as a metaphor, a place where thoughts and ideas could be instantly transmitted between people.

He learned of life in the ancient world, from Sumeria and the fertile Indus valley, to the arid plains and mountains of what were now Syria and Israel. The Seirim had been all over the world, called to wherever belief in them was strongest, feeding on that energy to sustain their corporeal forms. They had journeyed to the lush forests of central Europe and to the shores of the Mediterranean where the primitive Pagan tribes had worshiped them as spirits of the wilds, giving them the name of Satyr.

They seemed to have gotten on particularly well with the ancient Greeks, talking fondly of wild feasts and orgies, the Hellenic attitude towards sex and revelry had been very compatible with the needs of the Seirim.

Ryan had attempted to ask Azazel more about the fall and the deluge, but the Watcher was evasive, and so he had dropped the subject fairly quickly. He still wasn’t sure what the creature was, an evil devil who had tempted humanity into sin, or merely a romantic whose punishment had far exceeded the severity of its crimes? Ryan could sympathize with the latter, as he now found himself bound to a spirit whom he loved dearly, apparently at odds with the laws of that same deity.

Azazel was not burning in a lake of fire as the religious texts that Ryan had studied had claimed, however. It was here, throwing parties with its offspring and sharing stories around a bonfire as they clustered about its feet to listen.

Ryan had been an agnostic for as long as he could remember. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in a deity, but just that his life had been too hectic to afford him much time for contemplation. His entire life from the moment he had hit puberty had been consumed by study and work, leaving little room for much else, including spiritual pursuits. Now the existence of such a God was confirmed, and it made sense from a logical standpoint. These demons and spirits drew their power from worship and faith, and as the object of worship of several major religions, this Abrahamic God must be awash with power. Ryan had seen far lesser entities perform feats of prescience and read the hearts of men, amongst other things, and so it was not unreasonable to assume that such a being might be near omnipotent.

Did this entity judge, and if it did, did it judge based on actions or on intent? Was it the only one of its kind? Did it care about the lives of mortals at all? Was it even remotely similar to what was described in the religious lore that surrounded it? Perhaps as Nahash had advised, it was better not to think about such things, he should simply live his life and let the cards fall where they may. Death was inevitable, and his questions would all be answered eventually, one way or another.

And so Ryan lost himself in the revelry for a while, dancing and feasting with ancient spirits and fallen angels until even the roaring bonfire seemed to ebb and wilt as the night dragged on. Though the food replenished itself as if by magick and the wine flowed as if sourced from some bottomless ocean, even the Seirim slowed their gorging and drinking as they grew tired. Most were hopelessly drunk, but they were all happy and satisfied, splitting off into groups of three or four and collapsing onto furry pelts that were spaced around the fire at irregular intervals. Ryan was fairly certain that those had not been there before, but he couldn’t be sure, it was as if his memories of the things that Azazel conjured had somehow been tampered with. It felt like déja-vu.

The great beast itself seemed to have departed, perhaps it had other places to be, and Nahash led Ryan towards one of the vacant pelts. They collapsed onto the velutinous fur together, it felt like wolf fur or maybe a bear hide rug against his skin. Although the autumn air was cool, the fire warded off the worst of it. It has gotten low, and it lit the clearing in a dull, orange glow. It was perfect, probably by design, just bright enough and just warm enough to be comfortable.

He lay down beside Nahash, and she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him tight against her body as she was wont to do. He sank his face into her ruff of feathery wool, breathing in the comforting scent of her body, his muscles aching from all of the clumsy dancing that had so amused his hosts. Nahash stroked his hair, neither of them quite as wasted as some of her kin had gotten, but pleasantly drunk. The rise and fall of her bust was hypnotic, her slow, deep breaths inviting him to close his eyes and let his fatigue overcome him. She had other ideas, however. He shivered as he felt her dull claws draw trails down his spine, sneaking beneath his clothing as the flames crackled behind them.

“Listen,” she whispered, and Ryan strained his ears. He blushed as a low moan pierced the night, rising on his elbows to glance over Nahash as she rested on her side to see their immediate neighbors writhing as they were illuminated by the firelight.

Two of her comely sisters were occupying a pelt not five feet away, the head of one buried between the meaty thighs of the other as she held onto her horns, moving rhythmically. He couldn’t make out a great deal, but in a way that only made the scene more erotic, his imagination filling in the blanks as one of the Seirim pushed her long tongue deep inside the other.

“In the absence of mortals with which to sate their lust, they set upon each other,” Nahash explained. “I cannot fault them for it, I have felt that great need myself. It must be hard to possess a material body after so long and to refrain from indulging in it, testing its capacity for pleasure and sensation.”

As he looked about the smoldering fire he realized that there was similar activity coming from every pelt, squirming piles of Seirim whose thrusting bodies were cast in an orange light, deep shadow teasing him as it obscured the sordid details.

“Shall we join them?” Nahash whispered, her fingers wrapping around the growing bulge in his pants.

“Won’t they see us?”

“They’re too occupied to notice, and besides, you are among the Seirim now. Forget the prudish ways of your people and heed the call of the wild.”

She slipped her fingers beneath his belt, letting his erection rest in her soft palm, holding it gently as it throbbed and flexed. She watched his turmoil with her golden eyes, his lust growing as his cheeks burned red, his member beating in her hand as his hips moved almost imperceptibly to grind against her smooth skin. Gradually his arousal overcame his embarrassment, the wanton moans and wails of the Seirim that echoed over the crackling fire goading him on, and he fumbled with his belt as she smiled knowingly at him.

He tugged off his clothing and discarded it, the fur pelt soft against his bare skin, the two of them melting into one another as hands roamed across flesh and lips sought out their counterparts. Their bodies locked together, their arms wrapped around each other, writhing on the silky fur that lay beneath them as they embraced.

Nahash had haunted Ryan’s dreams since their last night together, she was like a drug. The sudden explosion of passion and then its jarring absence had driven him half crazy during the days that they had been apart. He ran his hands over her familiar curves, feeling her feathery wool beneath his fingers, taking handfuls of her meaty hips and delving his digits into her copious bust as his erection pushed into her plump belly.

“One would think that you had missed me,” Nahash chuckled, and Ryan lifted his face from between her breasts to gaze up at her. He felt wild, excited, and more than a little drunk.

“Don’t hold back,” he stammered, “I’m ready for you this time.”

Her smile turned salacious, and she batted her long lashes at him, no doubt drinking in his anticipation and his hunger for her.

“Then let us consummate this binding.”

A wave of warmth washed over him, a kind of dull pleasure in itself, those amber eyes of hers seeming to glow all the brighter as he lay on his back and she loomed over him. He saw the stars above her horned head, her pale features and white fur framed against the black sky, real this time as she was lit by the bonfire. It all seemed to recede as he watched it through the haze of that smoldering pleasure, the trees and the clouds melting away, even the light of the fire driven off until all that remained was Nahash.

“Listen to my voice,” she said in her husky contralto, her words creeping up his spine like questing fingers. How could he not? Even her voice was dripping with sexuality, deep and feminine, breathy in a way that made his heart leap. He felt as if she could bring him to climax with nothing more than a whisper in his ear.

“Nothing is forbidden, no desire taboo, no fantasy too indulgent. I’m going to run your body through its paces in a way that only a Seirim can, taste every exquisite emotion that you feel. I will dine on your pleasure as if it were the ripest and most succulent fruit.”

He felt hands on his skin, too many of them to be hers alone, the same trick that she had played on him last time. It had taken him by surprise back then, the sensations had been too intense and too unfamiliar, but now he welcomed them.

Fingers lightly brushed his chest and belly, his muscles twitching at their touch, roaming hands stroking him all over as if he was encircled by a team of masseuses. He knew that there would be nothing there if he opened his eyes and so he kept them closed, his imagination feeding into the sensation as his mind’s eye conjured slim fingers attached to buxom Seirim. Fingers entwined with his own, hands pinning him to the pelt, more of them gripping his ankles to stop his ceaseless writhing as the phantom digits set his nerves on fire with their teasing.

It was almost too much to process. When he reacted to one rub or gentle scratch, there were two more to distract his senses, his spine arching off the rug as he felt dull claws drag down it. They ran through his hair, teased his neck, played lightly over his thighs and belly. They seemed to touch him everywhere but his member, now rigid and aching, longing for a fist to grip it and start pumping.

He felt fingers delve into the flesh of his thighs and ass, becoming more wanton in their explorations, two hands cradling his warm face as a third wrapped around his throat. Could Nahash feel through these hands, he wondered, was this as much for her benefit at for his?

He twitched as he felt fingers trace his wrists from the heel of his hand down to his elbow, he was surprisingly sensitive there. The same gentle touch drew swirling shapes on his ribs and belly, his brain sparking as if it were short-circuiting. He was dazed, he couldn’t think straight, he could never have imagined that she would be capable of so much using only her hands. Albeit, a great many of them. One of the fingers slipped into his mouth, and he curled his tongue around it obediently, his hips thrusting into the air in desperation as her digits brushed the skin just above the base of his erection.

Even with his eyes closed, he could feel Nahash’s presence, sensing her golden stare as she looked down covetously at his tortured body. He could imagine the cruel smile that was no doubt spreading across her lips.

As if to answer the thought, he felt a kiss on his neck, lingering and wet as he loosed a low sigh. It mouthed and bit gently, a long, winding Seirim tongue escaping to taste the sweat on his skin. From the opposite side came another, planting more tender kisses on his shoulder, crawling up his jugular to pinch his ear between its teeth.

He shivered, swearing that his face might set on fire as the two disembodied mouths licked and teased, their warm breath blowing on his ears as they spoke in unison.

“Hear my voice, sweet boy, feel my touch…”

He felt a palm cup his face, turning it towards one of the mouths, its warm lips pressing against his and its serpentine tongue slithering forth. It tasted just like Nahash, and its technique was identical, Ryan leaning into it and doing his best to meet the lurid embrace as the organ coiled and twisted in his head. His efforts were distracted by the second ghost lover, whispering obscenities in his ear as it paused to bite and suck, the roving hands that caressed his body keeping up their pace.

“This pleasure is but a taste of what I can do to you,” the second murmured as the first licked his inner cheeks and pushed into his throat, her embrace growing more sexual and aggressive. “Soon these tongues will paint your body, their lips will roam across your skin. Have you ever imagined what it might feel like to have half a dozen women share your manhood between them? Would you ever have dared, or was the idea so self-indulgent that you couldn’t even entertain it?”

The first released him for a moment to let him catch his breath, then gripped his face in its fingers and plunged back down again, its slippery muscle roiling as its thick saliva escaped from their joined lips.

There was another hand on his face, pulling him away from the kiss and turning his head in the opposite direction, the first’s tongue sliding out of his mouth as their lips parted with a wet smack. Before he could take much more than a faltering breath, the second conjured Seirim had delved her fingers into his hair in order to pull him close and was subjecting him to its bawdy embrace. His eyes rolled back into his head as yet another sinuous tongue slid into his mouth, this one more sensuous and placating than the first.

It stroked his hair and cradled his burning cheeks as it moaned softly and made his head spin with deft strokes of its organ. It had too many hands for one person, but that was hardly a complaint. The first bit his neck, licking the red welt that it left in his skin, then it pushed the tip of its winding organ into his ear before picking up where its sister had left off.

“I’ll feed on your emotions, drink them down like sweet honey.”

He shivered as he felt lips slide around one of his fingers, sucking it into a warm mouth, a tongue winding around it like a snake as it coated his digit in viscous saliva. Another bit him softly on the hip and yet more began to plant kisses and drag their tongues across his body. There were as many as there were hands, and he squirmed uncontrollably as several of them licked and pecked at his inner thighs. One slid its slippery tongue into his navel, the first phantom chuckling to itself by his ear, enjoying his reaction.

“Poor creature, you feel as though you might lose your mind. But I am not a cruel mistress. Let me ease your suffering, for the appetizer is but one of many courses.”

The slow, soothing kiss broke off, the tongue sliding back into the disembodied mouth. The hands left his body, and the mouths ceased their teasing, leaving Ryan laying in silence and darkness for a moment. He opened his eyes to see Nahash straddling him, her juices dripping from between her thighs in heavy strands to pool on his belly. She was blurry, out of focus, only her yellow eyes burning through the haze like a pair of headlights in the mist.

“Not yet,” she said, Ryan hearing her voice as much in his head as with his ears. “I want you, in every way, but not yet…”

She reached down a hand and covered his eyes like a blindfold, and when Ryan felt her lift away, his vision did not return. It must be magick, she had blocked one of his senses, and that would only serve to heighten those that remained.

He gasped as he felt warm breath blowing on his throbbing member, as if a pair of lips were pursed not an inch from the tip, and then a sucking kiss to his belly made him lurch. He had seen Nahash crouched over him, this was more of her illusion, Ryan beginning to shiver with anticipation as he remembered her threats and promises.

His demonic partner wasted no more time, the smooth lips of the disembodied mouth sliding over his glans and a bolt of harsh pleasure shooting through him like an electric shock as they glided against his sensitive flesh. It held the tip in its warm mouth, its prehensile tongue battering him, coating his pulsing erection in a thick layer of drool that leaked down his shaft.

He felt a second pair of lips below, another tongue licking at the underside of his member, and then a third that curled around his balls. Mouth number three licked and sucked, tugging gently as mouth number two slid up and down the shaft, using the saliva from mouth number one as a lubricant. Ryan was delirious, points of light dancing before his eyes as his brain fizzed and popped, his limbs still bound by the ethereal hands that pinned him against the downy pelt. Their movement was unceasing, the three serpentine tongues coiling and stroking, their smooth organs encompassing his manhood in a prison of wriggling flesh.

It was as warm and as wet as being inside Nahash, but each of the tongues was moving of its own accord, the rhythmic contractions and muscular flexing that one would expect from a vagina replaced by what felt like a ball of snakes that roiled with a ceaseless fervor.

He felt the second mouth slide up his length to meet the first, the two kissing wetly around his head, trapping it between two wrestling tongues as they made out around it. The third sucked ardently at his balls, rolling them in its mouth, lashing them with its dexterous organ as he bucked and gritted his teeth against the pleasure. Although he knew that it was merely an illusion the effect on his body was no different than if it had been real, every glance of their slippery tongues and every warm breath felt as if it was really happening to him. For all intents and purposes, it was.

He groaned as the first phantom Seirim broke away from its kiss, cradling his throbbing cock in its tongue and guiding it towards its mouth, sliding down his shaft and wrapping its lips around the base. He felt the slick muscles of a throat seize around his glans, squeezing it as if his ghost partner were swallowing, more of that viscous drool escaping to wet his pubic hair. It held him there, not needing to breathe, but simulating the sensation of a woman struggling to accommodate him for the sheer pleasure of it. He felt it gag, swallowing in waves that made his toes curl as her gullet massaged him, his glans bumping the back of its throat.

The third and second mouths continued their work, unconcerned that their sister was hogging the spotlight, mouthing and kissing at his balls and thighs as he fought the growing urge to come.

“Don’t cut the fun short,” he heard, a breathy voice whispering beside his ear. He flinched as he felt a hand grip the base of his member, squeezing hard to cut off his rising climax even as his erection pulsed and jumped inside the first Seirim’s throat. He grunted his displeasure and then the hand released him, vanishing back into the aether as the remaining two tongues licked apologetically.

Nahash could sense his mounting excitement of course, and she was in complete control. She would not allow him to finish until she had had her fun.

His member swelled inside the first Seirim’s gullet again, its tongue lapping at the sensitive underside of his glans and teasing him back to full mast as its twin sisters resumed their maddening work, puffy lips crawling across his most sensitive anatomy as their hands gripped his thighs and hips for purchase.

The ethereal Seirim that had him lodged in its throat began to move, drawing back with its lips pursed until only the tip of his erection remained between them, circling it with her powerful tongue. When he was suitably overwhelmed by the cruel sensation, it slammed back down, driving him deep into its twitching esophagus. His hips rose off the ground to thrust deeper, his member sliding against damp flesh, Ryan bucking reflexively to meet its downward motions. The pace of their messy coupling grew faster and less refined, the incorporeal Seirim allowing him to fuck its throat with no remorse, needing no air and feeling no discomfort as its tongue lolled out of its mouth and its bubbling saliva leaked free in globs.

Nahash had been right, to even fantasize about a scenario like this was self-indulgent. Even in his most depraved dreams, he would not have been so presumptuous as to imagine himself at the center of a harem with what felt like a dozen women attending to his every desire. As good as it felt and as wild as it made him, it was not what he wanted…

Nahash seemed to sense that sentiment in him, resting a hand on his chest as she leaned down close to him. Somehow he could sense that this was really her and not some apparition that she had conjured for his benefit. He couldn’t see her, but he smelled her earthy musk, felt the warmth that she radiated as their cheeks brushed together and she spoke into his ear in her husky voice.

“As I said, no desire is taboo, no fantasy is too indulgent. I can make your senses dance like a puppet on a string, I can play your nerves like a harp. You will see and feel whatever suits me.”

“I want to see you,” he sputtered, her proximity maddening. He couldn’t reach up and touch her, he couldn’t see her face, bound and blindfolded by her insidious magick as he was. She chuckled, the hands that pinned him relenting, his vision returning as if he had just left a dark cave.

“What a beast I would have to be to deny such a heartfelt request,” she purred, her golden eyes coming into focus as he blinked his vision clear. She was resting atop him, smiling down at him, the only thing in focus as the world around them remained dark and bleary.

“This all feels great,” he stammered, wincing as the phantom Seirim let his member slide from its mouth and Nahash cocked her head at him curiously. “But this isn’t what I want.”

“Don’t you like it?” Nahash asked, her tone uncertain. “I sense your pleasure, but…”

“I like you Nahash, not what you can do for me. All the magick tricks and illusions in the world won’t feel half as good as just being with you. There’s nothing more exciting to me than that.”

The darkness around him faded and the illusory appendages along with it, Nahash once again cast in the orange glow of the flickering fire as she crouched over him, the sky above her gaining clarity as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. He was struck by her beauty then, her eyes bringing to mind images of light reflecting through a block of amber as her pristine, white fur blew gently in the breeze that rustled what few leaves still remained on the trees. She was ghostly, radiant, otherworldly in appearance yet alluring in her strangeness.

She must have felt what he felt, his emotions adding credence to his words, and she cradled her elongated face in her hands as she gazed down at him and batted her eyes. He felt her steely thighs tighten around him and she wet her pink lips with her tongue, her expression warming as his mind began to clear.

“Flatterer,” she whispered, the accusation betrayed by her smile. “I am already bound to you, you need no longer woo me.”

“You know I’m telling the truth,” he laughed, “you can read my emotions like a book. Tell me, what do I feel?”

“A great warmth,” she replied after a moment of reflection, “a swelling in your chest when you look upon me. Love.”

“Then I’m vindicated.”

“You must be mad to love an old goat like me, have you no interest in a young wife of your own kind?” He shook his head, and she stifled a chuckle with her pale hand. “Then I am glad of your madness.”

She guided his member towards her opening, lowering herself slowly down onto him, a moment of resistance making them gasp in tandem before she slid down his shaft and sat on him. She took him to the base, leaning back and supporting herself with her hands, her heavy breasts bouncing as they settled. She didn’t move for a few moments, enjoying the sensation of his cock throbbing inside her and giving him time to savor the sensation of her silken walls pressing around him. She was so hot, feverish, her insides threatening to scald him as his erection jumped and twitched. He could feel her every breath, her every subtle movement translating into her loins, squeezing his manhood with all the dexterity and fine control of a fist.

She began to rock her wide hips back and forth, slow and steady, rolling her horned head back as she delved a hand into one of her ample breasts. Ryan watched with drooping eyelids as she kneaded the supple flesh, as malleable as wet clay, yet springing back to its original shape when she relented. Her paunchy belly twisted, the abdominal muscles beneath flexing and writhing, her flowing motions as much dancing as lovemaking.

Ryan sank his fingers into the fat of her thigh, her burnished skin yielding beneath them, as soft as memory foam.

She seemed almost as taken with their newfound pace as he was, her reflective eyes unfocused, her body shifting and gyrating mechanically as she let her reflexes take control. She ground his rigid erection against the velvet walls of her passage, pleasure sparking as if the lovers were naught but two pieces of flint being struck together.

They fed into each other, every throb and shiver felt by the other, human and demon trapped in an endless spiral that took them higher and higher towards their inevitable climax. The other Seirim were still going about their sordid business around them, but he was completely consumed by Nahash, a blindfold was not necessary to keep his attention focused on her.

She was doing that thing with her hips again, it was mesmerizing. Percussive, sinuous movements, shimmies and slow figures of eight as if she was dancing to some unheard rhythm. She raised her arms above her head, as though lost in a trance, drawing shapes in the firelight as Ryan thrust into her from below.

It was an ever-changing pressure that stroked and squeezed him from the inside, as if she had reached a hand down into her very body and was massaging him through her satin walls, her wet flesh gliding against his skin as it wrapped him in warmth and pleasure. She had such fine control over her body, seemingly able to manipulate every muscle in her torso with the dexterity that one might have moved a finger, her pace constantly alternating to keep him on his toes.

She had him locked between her massive thighs, liked a pair of damned tree trunks, smooth skin shining with an almost reflective sheen of sweat as she twisted and thrust. There was such a wonderful fullness to her body, fat as soft as butter lavishly distributed to all of the places that drew the male gaze, buxom and shapely as the shadows cast by the fading fire accentuated her curves. She was an avatar of fertility, the sight of her tickled every primal instinct buried deep within his brain. Her hips and thighs were such that she could have strapped an anvil about her belly and carried it without breaking stride.

Ryan felt a newfound aggression welling inside him, a burning heat in his belly that demanded action, an impulse as old as time itself as Nahash rocked back and forth on top of him. She sensed it, slowing as she gazed down at him, smirking at his red face.

“Do I excite you so? Do not deny your impulses, let them overtake you. Do as nature intended.”

She seemed to know what he wanted before he did, catching him in her thighs like a wrestler and rolling over onto her back, bringing him with her and releasing him to lie atop her. She propped herself up on her elbows as she looked down at him expectantly, her breasts spreading under their own substantial weight, legs parting to present herself to him in invitation.

His member had slipped out of her during the tussle, glistening with her excitement as it throbbed in the cool night air, a thick strand of her juices breaking to fall to the pelt below. He could feel the heat coming off her as he glanced down at her lips, rosy and swollen, impossibly wet as her pink flesh dripped and twitched as if begging for his attention.

“Are you going to ravish me?” Nahash asked with mock surprise in her voice. She was taunting him, goading him on, her golden eyes sly as they tracked him.

She laughed as he took her hourglass hips in his hands, clawing at her supple meat, pressing his damp member between her labia to grind it up and down her vulva. Her massive thighs quivered, her expression turning sultry, biting absentmindedly on one of her dull claws as she let the sensation wash over her with an appreciative sigh. Their contact was so slippery, hot enough that he feared he might melt, a bead of his own excitement welling at the tip of his member as their loins rubbed together.

She was so touchable, he couldn’t get enough of it, taking handfuls of her doughy flesh and squeezing it between his fingers. Her body was a playground, wherever his hands roamed they were met with her paunchy curves, pale skin as smooth as varnished wood and feathery wool that was as deep and as opulent as the finest fur coat.

He couldn’t hold back any longer, using his leverage to thrust inside her, the sudden penetration making Nahash arch her long spine. She pushed up to meet him, taking him as deep as he could go, the two of them shivering together as their bodies joined. She was even tighter than before, her passage narrowing around him as she took his member to the hilt, every twitch and shiver translating through her smooth walls as he felt her thighs press around him. Her head lolled back, crowned by a forest twisted horns, the Seirim taking in a sharp breath as he pulled back and prepared for another thrust. Her passage clung to him, sucking ardently as if attempting to prevent him from pulling out.

Perhaps she wasn’t accustomed to being on the receiving end? Her purpose was to seduce men, after all, to have her prey so affected and so mesmerized by her seductive powers and her illusory magick that they could scarcely do more than writhe beneath her like beached fish. He was surprised by how sensitive she now seemed, how she reacted to every pulse of his member inside her, feeling the warm blood rushing through his organ as it throbbed and jumped.

He slid out of her along with a flood of her stringy fluids, taking a moment to rub his glans against her swollen sex, feeling the firmness of her engorged clitoris and watching her flinch as his rigid erection grazed it. Her gaze was hungrier now, those yellow eyes locked to his as if to convey some unspoken threat, don’t you dare stop.

He would have taken her by the horns like a bull could he reach, but her head seemed a mile away from him due to their difference in stature. Instead, he contented himself with taking rough handfuls of her hips and belly for purchase, slamming back inside her with all of the force that he could muster and driving his manhood deep into her eager tunnel. She closed around him as if he had sprung a trap, flesh like satin soaked in honey pressing down on him from all sides, her pillowy thighs closing around him with a vice grip to pull him closer.

They found a pace that suited them both, slow and heavy, silent save for grunts and sighs as if their bodies were communicating on some lower and more base level than language could achieve. He relinquished control as she had advised, his reflexes taking over, running on autopilot as his conscious mind gave way to raw passion and animal instinct. She used her legs to slam him harder and deeper, crossing them behind his rump, the lurid sounds of their coitus joining those of her sisters to echo through the clearing.

Nahash reached a hand up to hook the back of his head, bringing him close as she lay on her back, pressing her breasts together with her upper arms and pulling his face down between them. Her earthy scent filled his nose, her smooth skin brushing against his burning cheeks and her soft wool tickling him, Ryan resting on her chubby body like it was a waterbed as they moved together.

Doing this outside had its benefits, the night breeze cooled their sweat-drenched bodies, the dim firelight giving everything a dreamlike quality as it bathed them in its flickering glow. He nuzzled, rubbing his face between her yielding boobs as she squashed them around his head, encompassing him completely such was their size. His fingers explored whatever they could reach, there was even a soft layer of fat on her back, his hands roaming lower to weigh her ass as it rose from the furry pelt beneath them to meet his thrusts. Her ample cheeks were more than two hands could handle, it was like trying to lift a beanbag chair, malleable flesh spilling between his fingers as he probed the firmer muscle beneath.

Some of the Seirim around the bonfire had turned their attention to the couple now, golden eyes peering at them through the gloom, heads rising from between parted thighs to stare in their direction. They could sense his emotions just as Nahash could, feel the palpable carnality and lust that was as alluring to them as fresh meat to a wolf, drawing them to him like moths to a flame. They slowly crawled towards the rutting pair, some on their hands and knees, others crouched low as if trying to avoid detection.

It was a little unnerving, or at least it would have been if Ryan had not been completely consumed by his desire for Nahash. He barely registered them as they crowded around the pelt, heads adorned with gnarled horns swaying back and forth, peering over one another and jostling to get a better look like dogs lurking beneath a table in anticipation of falling scraps. They were lit only by the firelight, a ring of ghostly figures surrounding the two lovers, cast in dark shadow as they wet their lips and watched with a tangible craving.

He got the distinct impression that they would have jumped him had Nahash not already staked her claim, a dozen of the comely creatures taking turns, having their way with him to sate their supernatural lust. As good as that might feel, Ryan was smitten with his own Seirim, his lover squirming beneath him as he glanced up at the encroaching spirits.

Nahash noticed them too, her expression softening as though she felt pity for them. She had secured a mate while they had not, her sisters left to satisfy their own needs. Azazel had hidden the clearing from mortals who might come snooping and who would usually have served as sustenance for the hungry Satyrs. Soon they would resume their ancient activities, luring men to their bonfire in order to feed on their emotions, feasting on their pleasure and gorging themselves on the energy that sustained them. But not tonight.

There was something exciting about being watched by so many rapacious Seirim, Nahash smirking at him as he redoubled his efforts, running her dull claws up and down his spine as he plunged in and out of her. He was getting close, it was impossible to hang on for long with Nahash, the very purpose of her existence seemed to be seduction. Whether Azazel had conceived her with that goal in mind, or if she was merely the natural result of copulation between the Watcher and a beautiful mortal woman, she radiated sexuality in a way that made her irresistible to him.

Those nights that he had spent in her arms, the heavy globes of her chest pressing tantalizingly against his body, feeling her warmth and the slow beat of her heart but not being able to indulge the impulses that raged within him … it had been enough to drive him half insane. Now she was bound to him, the unnaturally heavy wedding band gripping his ring finger tightly as a constant reminder. Her libido was insatiable, and he doubted that a night would go by from now on where she didn’t exhaust him.

Nahash increased her pace, their bodies slamming together with renewed vigor, pulses of raw pleasure rolling over him as her passage flexed and contracted as if trying to draw his emission from his body. She crossed her arms behind his neck, leaning forward and planting her puffy lips against his, stealing a wanton kiss as they fucked in earnest. He delved his fingers into the soft ruff of wool that lined her neck and shoulders, gripping it as one would the hair of a lover, pulling her towards him as he melted into her embrace. Her tongue slid into his mouth, his head spinning as her long organ squirmed and licked the back of his throat, unashamed and wholly without restraint.

It pushed him over the edge, and he felt a pressure welling inside him, an urge that was impossible to deny as the wracking pleasure seized his muscles. Nahash felt his member swell inside her, her thighs tightening around him and squeezing him close in anticipation, breaking off from her kiss and wrapping her arms around him. She plunged his head into her cleavage, his strained groan muffled by her flesh, the first pulse of searing pleasure driving a thick wad of his emission from his trembling body.

Nahash gasped as she felt its warmth spread through her like magma, her legs gripping him almost painfully as if trying to take him deeper. Ryan’s mind went blank, his eyes tightly closed as another throb tormented him, his nerves lighting up like a Christmas tree as his body forced another flood of ejaculate into Nahash. Her pelvic floor muscles milked it from him, rolling up his shaft in waves, tighter and hotter than anything that he had ever felt. She came too, a guttural grunt slipping past her pink lips as her massive body began to quake. Ryan could feel the vibrations in her loins, the rhythmic contractions making her passage wring him of everything he could give her.

They clung to each other tightly, fingers delving into flesh, hands roaming across skin and taking purchase wherever they could. He heard her heart pumping as his ear pressed against her fluffy chest, her bosom shaking around his head as her orgasm tore through her. Over and over his muscles clenched, his climax almost painful in its intensity, pumping his ropy seed deep into her waiting tunnel as she trembled beneath him on the pelt.

The Seirim watched them, their long lashes fluttering, their golden eyes losing their focus as what must have been surges of white-hot pleasure washed over them. They felt what he felt, and while he wasn’t sure how intense it was for them, they were visibly stirred. Hands shot between thighs and sought out breasts, long tongues wetting lips, the creatures practically salivating as they dined on his second-hand euphoria.

One last shudder rolled over him, his aching member expelling the last of its load, the thick fluid sliding down into Nahash’s quivering depths as her silken walls coaxed it from him with all the finesse of a trained hand. He slipped out of her, the profane mixture of their syrupy emissions leaking from her twitching hole to fall heavily to the pelt below, matting the fur as strings of it clung to her milky thighs. Her ample chest heaved as she caught her breath, a hand sneaking down to rub her sodden mound, easing out one last shivering aftershock.

Ryan was glowing, he felt giddy, a satisfied ache permeating his lower body as his muscles recovered from their ordeal. His member was glazed in her juices, sticky and wet, and he fell back to sit between her giant legs as she smirked down at him.

In a second, the Seirim that had surrounded them set upon him, half a dozen pairs of clawed hands gripping his chest and arms. They slid across his belly and thighs, his body still tender and sensitive, a cry of surprise escaping his lips as their desperate explorations pierced the haze of his ecstasy and drew out another lingering flutter of pleasure.

“H-Hey! What are you…”

Three heads darted between his legs as they pulled them apart, Ryan too dazed and exhausted to put up much resistance, the Seirim jostling and bumping into each other as they attempted to get at his still rigid member. He clutched at a pair of horns as one of them curled its serpentine tongue around his cock and dragged it into her mouth, sucking away the viscous juices greedily. Before she could finish one of her sisters had pulled her away, taking her position as her lips crawled across his shaft. Another mouthed at his inner thigh, licking away whatever drops of fluid that it could find while a fourth dragged its tongue across his belly. Sparks danced before his eyes, his opposition melting as they cleaned him, one of the Seirim taking the face of one of her faster sisters in her hands and slipping her tongue into her mouth to get a taste.

The same was happening to Nahash, who was biting her lip as she watched some of her sisters eat her out, their long tongues digging deep inside her in an attempt to reach the lurid concoction that had been pumped into her deepest reaches. He could see flashes of pink as they licked and probed, two tongues winding into her passage at once as more of the frantic Satyrs cleaned her thighs like people dying of thirst licking the dew from a rock.

When they were done they scurried back to their respective pelts around the fire, the show apparently over. Ryan glanced at Nahash with drooping eyelids, and she reached forward to draw him close, collapsing onto her side and bringing him with her. They lay together, tired and satisfied, the orange glow of the rising sun just beginning to show over the forest as the embers of the fire smoldered.

“As I said, the fluids borne of our union have powerful alchemic properties. They are irresistible to my neglected sisters. I could not deny them a taste, I hope you don’t mind their intrusion.”

“I feel bad for them,” he sighed, nestled in her arms as he rubbed his face in her feathery ruff and let her scent fill his nose. “Will they be okay? What will happen to them now?”

“Azazel sees no reason to intercede. This night was for our benefit, and once we have left, they will no doubt resume their ancient activities. They will lure wandering mortals with their dancing and revelry in order to feed on their sexual energy, things will be as they once were.”

“Is that going to work out in the modern era?” Ryan wondered aloud. “News travels fast, what if they’re discovered?”

“I honestly don’t know,” she replied, stroking his hair with her dull claws. “But I’m sure that they’ll be fine under Azazel’s guidance. He is wise and powerful.”

“And you won’t be coming back here?”

She took his hand in hers, showing him the black ring that clung to his finger.

“I have no need of summoning circles or sanctuaries any longer. As long as Azazel is fed with energy, then I shall not want for it either. Though if it’s all the same to you, I would like you to keep the chalk circle that you drew on the floor of your apartment. It can be … soothing to rest within its boundaries.”

“So that’s why you were always crashing on my couch,” he laughed. “So … does this mean that you’re moving in with me?”

She chuckled, pulling his face into her fur.

“I go wherever that ring goes, and if you are living in that apartment, then I suppose that I am too. I can come and go as I please, of course. The immaterium is always open to me, but as you know, I prefer to be corporeal whenever possible. I love this plane of existence, everything from the feeling of firm ground beneath my hooves to the taste of the rain on my tongue.”

“Suits me just fine,” he said. “It’ll be nice to have someone to come home to again.”

Ryan felt a chill crawl up his spine, and he propped himself up on his elbows, looking over Nahash’s prone figure at the fading bonfire. Azazel was crouched beside it, cast in dark shadows, its three ruby-red eyes staring at Ryan through the gloom. He heard it laugh to itself, a rumbling sound that was as much the bleat of a goat as anything of human origin, and then it unfurled a pair of great leathery wings. They must have been twenty feet across, kicking up dust as they flapped, lifting the great creature off the ground as the wind blew out the bonfire as if it had been nothing more than a candle. It cast the clearing into darkness, that trio of smoldering eyes all that was visible as it rose into the dark sky, the fading laughter heard only in Ryan’s head as the beast vanished over the treetops.

He fell back to the pelt, that ominous voice echoing in his head, wondering what Azazel’s deal was. Where was it going? Had he unwittingly unleashed some kind of monster upon the world? As bad as the fallen angel’s rep was, it had done nothing so far to indicate any malice or evil intent, and yet its mere presence made Ryan’s skin crawl.

Nahash pulled him close, her warmth driving away the cool morning air, and she whispered to him as fatigue began to overcome them both.

“Thank you, Ryan, for all that you have done.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” he replied sleepily, suppressing a yawn. “I might have been living in a tent in these woods right now if it wasn’t for you and Orobas.”

His life had taken such a strange and sudden turn, but against all odds, this was starting to feel normal. Maybe that was what it really meant to be a magician, having this insanity be a part of your daily life and being able to handle it without losing your grip on reality. He shuffled closer to Nahash, feeling her smooth skin beneath his fingertips, listening to her slow and steady breathing. It was hypnotic, and he closed his eyes, joining her in an exhausted and contented sleep.

THE END OF CHAPTER NINE