Prologue: The Stars Fell

“And for you sinners there shall be no salvation. But upon you shall abide a curse. But for the elect there shall be light and joy and peace. And they shall inherit the earth” — The Book of Enoch

Seven. It is a number that has been given great significance and meaning to those inclined to the most prominent scripture of this primitive age seven is a most holy number, seven days it took for all to come to be, seven days for the feast of Pesach, seven pillars supported the House of Wisdom, seven wonders are listed for the world, of which only the dull pyramids remain. Yes, seven is referred to as the number of completion and perfection.

Fitting then, that I should be of the seventh generation when counting from the cursed one, Cain. For I am Na’amah, and no woman, save perhaps one alone, has ever been as perfect in beauty and wit as I. I state this not as a crude boast but as fact, reader, these are my words and heed them well. For were it not for the prominence of my beloved mother it would be I who would reign the world of depravity, who would be the one whispering and spurring you into sensational acts to satisfy the shadow of your psyche. But think not that I dwell idle whilst She does all the manipulating, for I am the initiatrix, the whispers in the night, the wet dreams paired with nightmare, that takes your hand through the spheres of carnal terror and paralytic fear until you recognize it as home.

But enough of the now, I write this to give you the past. There are numerous clues and conflicting myths for the wise ones to learn the origins of my mother, but so few think to consider how I came to be, focused as they are upon Her. What led the Mother of Divination down the path of self-destructive harlotry? Well, ironically it is because of my skill in divination.

But I would begin my story at a feast, where I was already well on the way to my blissful damnation. My father, Lamech, the ruler of the mighty city of Enoch and the lands of Nod, had returned triumphant from some minor conflict against a rebellious clan of such meager import that their name escapes me. They had thought to use guerilla warfare to account for their lesser numbers but failed to prepare for my father’s mastery in the ways of violence. The flayed hides of their chieftains now decorated the great walls that had stood since Cain first founded the city.

Whilst the raucous merry-making went on in the great hall of the palace I was backstage, all nerves. I stood naked, with numerous attendants applying scented oils, paints and jewels. A number of them held an enormous lump of polished obsidian, what passed for a half-decent mirror in those times. I smiled as I beheld myself, it was not my looks that worried me for I had already gained the reputation for being the most beautiful woman in the world. The many worshipers who came to the temple referred to me as ‘The Charmer’, for my beauty lured in the masses better than any sermon.

“Remember the teachings of that old hag, slow your breathing, fear is but a barrier to greatness, heed it not.” Chedipe, my oldest friend appeared, admiring me. She had already been made up, ready as one of my background dancers. Hailing from the one of the eastern kingdoms, her tanned body was painted with various serpents, covering the pale scars on her flank, with emerald eyes that did a poor job concealing her nipples and navel. A stark contrast to the sapphire stars that covered my own, complimenting my midnight hair and dark eyes.

Risking having to have my cosmetics redone, I leaned forward and kissed her. We were not lovers, but we had been together since we were but children. Assigned to me as my playmate and servant when I was but a fiery infant princess, we had played together, shared secrets together and grown up together. When it was discovered that father intended to me marry me off to some Atlantean prince, we fled together, with the indirect help of my mother, from the palace under the new moon to the grudgingly accepting arms of the high priestess. I think she would have sent me back to my furious father had my skill at divination not become clear. Recognizing my visions as truth, the high priestess managed to endure the many threats and financial pressures placed on the temple by my father, until he fell into seething acceptance.

So in the temple I spent my adolescent years, learning how to dance and praise the gods, studied the various texts and performing rituals. I learned the effects of various herbs and the meditation methods required to bring about those parts of the mind locked to most. But as a princess I was forbidden from learning and practicing the way of holy whoredom. Perhaps to you whose morals are so very different to those times would think me relieved. I was enraged! I wanted nothing kept secret from me, and as I watch Chedipe excel in the way of lust I explore myself in the bedchambers at night, fantasizing now that my body had matured.

You understand how denying a toddler something causes them to desire it all the more, perhaps it is this that led me to become the demi-thing I am today. Lust was forbidden me where, as a princess I had always been denied nothing, as such I wanted it more than anything. Perhaps that was why, consciously unwittingly but maybe subconsciously willing, I broke the golden rule of divination. Outraged and aroused, I crept to one of the study chambers at night and, with a single candle, lit incense and filled a silver bowl with clear water to seek a vision of how to get my way. Instead of attaining answers from those aloof creatures of the higher echelons I gave a psychic shriek as my spirit suddenly plummeted into the forbidden spheres of the Lesser Palaces. The things I saw there…

“Your Reverence?”

Chedipe brought me out of my reverie, the old hag of a high priestess was gone now, that title passing over to me. Thinking back of what I saw that night had set my heart thumping and loins quivering. My anxiety rose again. I wondered to myself, would he see my twitching labia as I danced? Something stirred in the back of my mind and I felt my anxiety wash away in a wave of arousal. Let him see it! I am a holy whore and proud of it. In my mind I redesigned the various dance patterns to better display my heated state to the crowd. Let there be outrage and sensation this night! Let all lips utter my name in jealous disgust and secret yearning! Let them revere the perfect beauty that is me!

“It is time Your Reverence.”

Nodding, I made my way, my handmaidens falling behind, each similarly painted to Chedipe and versed for tonight’s performance. We rose to the stage, with but a heavy curtain of expensive purple separating us from the reveling crowd. As the lanterns were dimmed that noise died to hushed chatter, one of the priestesses announced that it was time to give thanks and praise to the gods for bequeathing such a fine victory to us. Related or no, it was my duty as high priestess to lead in this.

The curtain fell away, gasps arose as eyes fell upon me, admiring me. Pleased at the response, I rose my hands, stepped forwards and began giving praise toward each of the idols arrayed about the enormous hall. Huge windows opened to allow in the cool night air revealed the starlit heavens beyond. Behind me, priestesses swung braziers that filled the room with incense concocted by myself, a scent designed to stir the blood of men.

As I sang my praise, I quickly scanned the audience at their tables. I saw my step-brothers, Jabal and Jubal, watching disapprovingly as they always did. My genius brother, Tubal-Cain, stood alone in a corner, smiling at me. Eventually I saw the scowling face of my father, his two wives on either side of him. On his right was the prim and proper Adah, looking scandalized, on his left was my mother Zillah, her tits on display, refilling father’s goblet and no doubt trying to quell his growing anger with soothing whispers. Likely Adah and my step-brothers would seek to exacerbate this moment, I fretted not for it was I represented the gods, not they. They acted out of jealousy, for it should have been they who held the influence of the court and the masses.

You see reader, in those days it was common for prominent men to take two wives, one was the main bride, taken out of political gain, to seal alliance, foster heirs, and the like. The other was the ‘shadow-bride’, taken out of pleasure but forbidden to sire children lest it bring about civil war. Apparently my mother had been father’s favorite concubine, with lust growing into something more. For reasons still unknown to me, Lamech and Zillah went against protocol and brought me and my twin brother into the world, worse for Adah, my brother’s skill at forging arms and my influence made us the more popular children. Jabal may be the next in line, but it was I and Tubal-Cain the people love.

With the praise over, the drums began their beat and I ell into my dance, anklet bells tinkling. None could match me in the skill of the dance, my body moved sensuously and sinuously. We told the story of the beginning of all things, not the tale of Genesis or the cosmic explosion as you know these days, nay back then we held to the story of the great war. We danced the story of the Enuma Elish, how the annunaki took down the insane dragon god Abzu, leading to the great war between the golden annunaki and the eldritch horrors that made up the dragon goddess’, Tiamat’s, army.

Chedipe did wonderfully playing as Tiamat, if the crowd were dogs I would have seen them salivate at the sensuous dance representing Tiamat mating with her son Kingu to bring forth the eleven generals. Lurid comments and chortles arose as Chedipe crushed her breasts against those of the priestess playing Kingu and locked lips with her.

Then I came on, the mighty Marduk, leading the final battle and slaying Tiamat and executing Kingu. In victory repose I fell to my knees then back, thighs spread toward my father to ensure he could see my aroused state. Had my mother not been there I am sure he would have erupted then. Instead the lights dimmed as we set up the final stage, several dancers representing Kingu’s corpse locked limbs, breaking away as I danced about them and rising up to reveal how we humans came to be, each one of us a fragment of a defeated god.

It ended with Marduk marrying the goddess Sarpanit, Siris, a heavy-breasted dancer was chosen for this, a rare combination. As we danced the consummation together I felt that ‘something’ stir in my mind once more and surged with ecstasy as inspiration took me. It was meant to end with us lying down together, instead I spun on my hip, intertwined my legs with hers and pressed my slick lower lips to hers. Siris’ eyes widened in surprise, she gasped and arched her back delectably. Quickly, I did the same and froze with her, ending the performance in that beautiful pattern of entangled limbs and unabashed pleasure.

The crowd whooped and cheered when the lights on the stage were snuffed out, all save my father and Adah’s side of the family that is. Still pleased, I rose, taking Siris’ hand to help her up, and spread my arms rapturously to the crowd as the lights were brought back, bathing in their adulation. For a moment I felt a craving to go further, to sit down on the stage and use my fingers to pull my labia apart, to display my perfect womb to all and revel in their carnal appreciation. Recognizing that the Lesser Palaces were calling to me again, I shook my head and left the stage.

Giggling excitedly, Chedipe rushed over and embraced me, “That was exquisite! That ending, you utterly enthralled the me with that. Even your step-brothers were entranced.”

Laughing, I faced the mirror as my handmaidens began removing the paints and gems and redoing my long hair. I became sombre, “My father did not seem entranced.” It felt strange to me then, had a part of me hoped to receive his approval? Certainly I could not deny the faint sense of disappointment. Once I was satisfied with my reflection I took Chedipe’s hand, “Come, time to accept donations.”

We went naked among the crowd, entertaining the nobles and ensuring the temple would be sufficiently funded. As the main prize I had plenty seeking to gain my attention, I gave them all polite and tantalizing conversations, but kept them brief, trying to give time and attention to all there and ensure their love of me. Dutifully I went to father’s table, there Zillah rose and embraced me, “That was magnificent dear.” Then she whispered in my ear, “Marakesh, at the table over there, is a wealthy merchant with connections to Atlantis.” She then kissed my cheek before returning to her seat.

“Yes.” Father growled, giving the sour-faced Adah a cursory glance before rising, “An exemplary performance daughter, the gods are no doubt pleased.” It was a well controlled response, he kept his eyes on mine, not once roving my body as the others do. It was somehow comforting and frustrating at the same time.

I nodded to him, then took my leave before it inevitably devolved into an argument. I went over to my brother, as a weapon smith, he was pleasingly built and was surpassed by none save perhaps those from the empire to the west, but a complete introvert. Were it not for me I am certain he would be a virgin still, I went over and kissed him on the lips, not caring who saw. He smelled of oil and metal, an aroma that set my body quivering. “Did that performance please you brother?”

“Yes.” he said distractedly, “I’m thinking of trying out a new process, perhaps if the air is pre-heated before channeled it will reduce fuel consumption by as much as…”

I kissed him again, “Let that brilliant mind rest awhile, tonight is a night for revelry. Would you like to come to my chamber this night?”

He gave me an apologetic smile, “Did mother point you to that Marakesh? We need his ore trade sister, the purity is like nothing I have seen before. With them I can make weapons and armor like nothing this world has ever seen before.”

Tutting, I kissed him again and went on my way. I picked up a goblet of wine from the Lemurian kingdoms and, passing Marakesh, ‘accidentally’ spilled it over his fine chiton. The rotund man’s face went red with apoplexy, then went white when he recognized who I was. “Oh I am so sorry, dear merchant, I shall have you compensated at once for my clumsiness.”

“Oh that’s quite all right …”

“No, no, it is not all right. Years of practising perfect balance and posture and here I am barely able to handle a bit of liquor.” I made a play of staggering into him, pressing my body against his as the nobles he was speaking to discretely excused themselves. “Let me make it up to you sir, I hear you Atlanteans are gifted in many ways beside your economy and technology.” I took his podgy hand and led it down between my legs.

Understanding, Marakesh raised an eyebrow, “Well, I suppose it would be poor manners not to show you talents of the greatest people on Malkuth.”

Smiling, I led him out of the hall to somewhere more private, my body alight with anticipation. Some are addicted to narcotics, others alcohol, lust is my poison, a poison I delighted in destroying myself with.

xxxxx

Marakesh was not a particularly gifted lover, nor all that well endowed, but years of fake orgasms from women seeking his fortune made him think he was. My tongue slithered around his phallus, I easily took all of him into my mouth, slobbering him in preparation for my womb. I rode him, his portly frame not allowing for much exertion on his part, and gave a dramatic moan as he came inside me. Unlike most harlots, I did not leap up and wash the seed from me, I feared no pregnancy and had taken Silphium before the festivities to ensure as such. But when he released a vision struck me, as they often did during coitus these days.

I saw myself, afire from the waist down, I saw the sky falling, and waters crashing through nations.

Disturbed by the vision, I laid with him awhile, speaking nonsense until I preened information that would ensure the advantage in trade negotiations. Then I took my leave of the palace, taking the carriage back to the temple and lounging on my enormous bed of silken sheets and cushions, idly dining on the slices of powdered fruits on a tray beside me.

I watch my thighs, on the journey home Marakesh’s seed had ran from me, rivulets of pearl decorated my flesh. As always, I was transfixed.

“Semen is the only garment befitting of thee.” That guiding voice in my mind spoke, ever there, ever motherly.

I sank back to my memories again, to that night I performed my failed divination and began my fall from grace. I had done so in a state of uncleanliness, in heavy arousal, it was this that sent my spirit tumbling to the Lesser Palaces. But I did not flee as any half sane adept would have. I found myself in a world of lust, lust impossible to satiate. I stood in a city, but it was not Enoch. This city was dark, illuminated by a sickly moon, or perhaps a dying sun. It stood beside a poisonous sea and bore torturous architecture that twisted the mind to look at.

I paced through the city of twisted buildings, decorated with carvings of rapacious beasts with enormous phallus’ and women in varying states of debauchery. The city had denizens, numerous denizens, they all hid in the shadows, eyeing me hungrily. Bright light was not welcome here, yet a sphere of such light surrounded me, protecting me from those horrors. An addictive thrill of terror and arousal flooded me, I almost hated the light for denying me their brutal affections. This obscene city was more beautiful to me than the stuffy higher spheres ever could be. From deeper in the city a voice came, seductive and imperious, “This way.”

I followed, at first I had felt naked and vulnerable but the further I went the more the fear and excitement emboldened me. I strode like a queen, chest thrust out, hips swaying teasingly. I willed them to take me, willed them to destroy me, the protective light was reflected back at me from numerous leering eyes in the darkness. I marveled at the lurid architecture, all made in praise of the destructive lust that filled me now. Eventually I entered a plaza were a crowd of the nightmares were gathered, but to my dismay their eyes and affections were not upon me.

At the center, upon an altar depicting debased acts, was a woman of such beauty that I felt like an ageing crone in comparison. Her ivory thighs were spread wide, taking in monster after monster, her elegant hands reached out, pleasuring more of them as another thrust hard into her ruby rimmed mouth. Hair red hair and white skin stood out light a beacon in the dreary palette of this kingdom, drawing them to her. I could only watch in stunned horror and hunger for a time as they swarmed her, one after another. Her body glistened with their semen, I wondered if she ever tired. The only garment she bore was a dark circlet with decorative horns sprouting forth. I found myself eventually whispering to myself, “Magnificent.”

As if this alerted her, a writhing creature finished and freed itself from her face. Emerald eyes fixed upon me, a perverted smile setting my heart aflutter, she spoke with a husky, warm voice, “Daughter.”

Before I could respond, the trance broke, I felt my spirit slam back into my corporeal body. I jumped back with a yelp, spilling the divination bowl. I lay there awhile, catching my breath before slinking back to my bed without waking the other adepts. I got no sleep that night, terrified. I had been to the Lesser Palaces, royalty or not I was sure to be burned at the pyre. The high priestess would surely sense my tainted soul.

But over the next few days, nothing happened, they noticed not a thing. But I had changed, I began to see more into things, saw much of the dogma for the nonsense it is. Like the opening of a black lotus, something unfurled in my mind and began guiding me, teaching me, and turning the spark of arousal into a blazing inferno. One night I could stand it no longer, I rose from my bed, woke Chedipe and somehow convinced her to sneak out of the temple with me. Ever loyal to me, Chedipe removed her garments with me in an alley and we went to the busiest in we could find. We entered, playing as common whores of the street. The dark lotus bloomed in encouragement, spurring me further, I flirted with anybody and everybody, until one hairy man stinking of the tannery led me out to a urine drenched alley. I got down and beheld a phallus for the first time, I was on fire, the alien presence in my mind encouraging me. I wrapped my lips about his shaft and an instant sense of bliss filled me, I sucked and worked my head back and forth instinctively, gagging and feeling warm saliva drip onto my tits. He removed himself from me and ejaculated on my face. I gasped in delight as I lay back, feeling his semen run down me. The stranger flipped a copper coin on me and took his leave, I had never seen a denomination below gold until that moment.But still the lotus was open, pushing me further, I rose and went right back in there. Whilst Chedipe worked a man beside me a grimy man smelling of the docks thrust into my womb, filling it for the first time. If he could tell I had been a virgin he did not voice it, but did compliment my tightness. With a slap to my rump, he filled me with his seed before flipping another meager piece of metal to me. Chedipe, also finished, giggled and winked at me. But still the lotus permitted me no rest, hand in hand with Chedipe I rose seeking more. By the end of the night I held ten such coins, coins I let fall into the gutter as we crept back to the temple.

“Your Reverence!”

Again I was started from my memories as Chedipe knocked at the door.

Groggily, I rose and opened up, “The hour is late Chedipe.” Seeing her terrified expression, I put one of my delicate hands to her shoulder, “Are you all right.”

She tried to speak but found she could not, I had her take calming breaths before she managed to say, “The skies!” Frowning, I returned to my bedchamber and opened up the way to the balcony. I stepped in the cool night and marveled.

Stars were falling, streaks of bright light making a beeline for the distant peak of Mount Hermon. I gripped the balcony rail, watching in a daze as star after star plummeted to earth. Such spectacles as a meteor shower had been seen before, but this was distant, it was brighter, more numerous, and they all led to the same point.

Chedipe joined me at the balcony, “What does it mean Your Reverence? Is it an omen.”

Thinking back to my vision I breathed, “Yes, the beginnings of a calamity.”

 

1. Watchers

“Azazel desired Na’amah, the sister of Tubal-Cain, the most beautiful woman on earth. But there was another beautiful maiden, Istahar, the last of the virgins, whom Shemhazai desired, and she refused him. This made him want her all the more.” — Tree of Souls: The Mythology of Judaism

“You request to take me as your bride, but I say to you, what do you offer in return?”

I played a dangerous game, these Grigori were revered as servants of the gods themselves, as high priestess it was expected that I defer to them and worship them as holy messengers. That I should be wed to one would only be regarded as a good omen, so for me to reject them would be regarded as heretical to many. Besides that, they were intensely beautiful, it took all my willpower not to throw myself at him. But I had promised my brother, and I would do this thing for him.

The peoples who termed themselves the Grigori presented themselves a few days after the stars fell. They claimed to be servants of a celestial power, whose duty it had been to watch over us. However, upon seeing the beauty of the mortal women they began to debate whether to descend to take us as wives. The deciding point had been my performance that night, seeing me dance they were finally swayed and came down to us. None claimed they were lying, it was clear upon looking at them that they were not of this world. They were too beautiful, too perfect, to be mortal. My fame only rose due to this, for it was now said that my beauty was such that the angels themselves descended for me.

They dwell among us, seeing them as a direct link to the gods they were revered and gifted the finest houses, foods and whores. I danced for them, but I had yet to give myself to them, for it dawned on me that besides looking pretty they were closed lipped when it came to the secrets of the stars. I dared not speak against them, but neither did I lay with them, instead teasing and giving empty promises to their advances. They all wanted me, save for one, the one who caused the edge of anger and bitterness in my voice as I spoke to the delegation before me.

Pack of sycophants behind him, Azazel looked up at me with longing, his magnificent mane of black hair flowing behind him, his tunic bared enough of his chest to show it was as perfect as any chiselled statue. To look upon him was to lust for him, as it is to look upon me. “Is my sincere love not enough? I have longed for you from the heavens since you first reached womanhood.”

That made me consider, did he think to see me only when hearing of my performances? Or had he seen my escapades, seen me give myself like a common whore to the peasantry? Was he even aware of the influence of the Lesser Palaces within me. Just how omnipotent are these Grigori? So many questions, so much mystery. But I was determined to get my answers.

Upon my throne of silver, fashioned in the likeness of lions and owls, I looked down at him. I had chosen a thin garment of royal purple twined about my limbs with links of silver, but hid nothing of my body, to better give the impression of authority over him. But elevated on my throne as I was, the Grigori gave off such a presence that I felt like a child before him. The lotus in my mind began to open, tempting me to spread my legs and display my sex to them. But I refused to succumb. I remembered the rejection weeks before and let it steel me to fulfill my brother’s wish.

The Grigori had a chieftain, Semyaza, and he was the most achingly beautiful among them, with sapphire eyes and hair like spun gold. It was like the sun had descended to us. Heart fluttering, I made my advances on him, and for the first time in my life I was turned down. I, the most beautiful woman in the world. He pursued some slut of the Sethian line named Ishtar and cruelly said my wanton ways were distasteful to him. The high and mighty Semyaza left Enoch then in pursuit of his oh so perfect Ishtar with a contingent of his followers.

Soon after Semyaza’s departure, Tubal-Cain requested I attend him at his workshop. I was grateful for the request, longing for something to help me forget the sting of rejection. I visited my private bath, easing myself into the steaming waters and leaning against the marble sides. When cleansed I had my handmaidens apply the scented oils and decorate my hair with pearls. Sensing my agitation, Chedipe brushed a lock of my hair back and smiled conspiratorially, “Why don’t we sneak out of the temple tonight, like we did as adepts years ago? That will cheer you up.”

I smiled wanly, “I fear I am too well known these days.”

“Nonsense, apply a little dirt here and there, no one will be the wiser.”

“I’ll think on it.”

It proceeded via open carriage from the temple to my brothers workshop, a vast academy dedicated to the study of metallurgy. As we made our way the crowd hailed and cheered me and I waved back, basking in their adoration. Thankfully Semyaza’s rejection had not been public, that would have damaged my image and given Adah and her brood an advantage in securing influence against me.

My procession entered the large courtyard where scholars and artificers gawked. I made my way into the wide building where countless anvils rang with the work of master blacksmith’s and their apprentices, all led by my brother. The noise was deafening and made me grate my teeth, but the scents of sweat and smoke was tantalizing. Indeed, as we made our way I eyed the many students there, all grimy with biceps made wide from years at the forges. Indecent suggestions flowered in my mind, making me eager all the more for my brother.

I had my entourage wait outside the entrance of the tower where my brother tended to squirrel himself away when not forging and climbed the spiraling staircase to his study. As I did so I reflected again on my past. Chedipe and I began to frequently enjoy our night forays into the city, offering ourselves cheaply in the grimy streets sent an ecstatic thrill through me they I became hooked upon. Through my influence Chedipe grew just as addicted and eager as I. I recalled my first anal experience, I had been fucking a foreign sailor near his ship when another of the crew came up behind me and thrust himself into my rectum. My body went straight with shock, I gasped in agony and pleasure all at once. The black lotus in my mind flowered and I pushed myself to continue, delighting in having both my holes stuffed so. They gifted me a bottle of wine from their land after my efforts. I was in love with the phallus, in all its varying forms, and began to revere it more than any of the annunaki. Over time the influence of that lotus upon me grew and I began to sense it more an intellectual entity residing in the confines of my mind rather than a flower, guiding and teaching me. Sometimes I fancied I could hear its voice.

But the more we did this the greater the risk we would be caught, and certainly that was what happened. Eventually one of the high priestess’ lackeys followed us and watched in disgust as we went about our harlotry. The next morning both Chedipe and I were summoned to her private quarters. The old crone had us on our knees, heads bowed as she ranted at us, “Never have I heard of such vulgarity. Have you any idea the stain you bring upon this temple? Chedipe, the greed to whore yourself so for coin, when we provide all you need. And you Na’amah, for one of royal blood to degrade herself so. What were you thinking?”

She continued on for some time, broken now and again with a “Yes Your Reverence.” or “Sorry Your Reverence.” After a lengthy scolding, she meted out the punishment. For Chedipe as one of common blood, she bore the lash. For me, two weeks confined in minimal chambers, that I may pray to the gods for forgiveness.

Back to the present, I stood outside Tubal-Cain’s study and caught my breath before knocking and entering. I was not one to wait for an answer. Smiling coyly, I expected to find my brother waiting for my caress. He was certainly there, but at his desk fully dressed, my father seated opposite him. Both turned at my entrance, my brother smiling in welcome, my father scowling.

Lamech looked me over, as always I was naked save for the ruby encrusted bars piercing my nipples and the sealskin shoes adorning my feat. “By the gods girl, do you ever cover yourself?”

An anger that only my father could stir rose up in me, “Would you cover a detailed portrait, or a priceless sculpture? Beauty demands to be on display to the world father.”

Before our age-old argument to continue my brother interjected, “We are not here to squabble, father.” He unfolded his powerful arms, his biceps swollen from years at the anvil, then he went over to a suit of armor hanging at the wall. He tapped it, “Plate armor, they call it. Were it not for father’s superior strategic mind a recent Sethite raid would have overwhelmed us. They are outpacing us in advancement with regards to weaponry. Why, this is the strongest metal I have ever seen.”

“And?” I pouted, relaxed somewhat by my brother’s calming presence, “What am I to do about it? Spread my legs to the Sethites?”

“Not to the Sethites.” Lamech grunted.

Their plan began to dawn on me, “The Grigori, you want me to attain their knowledge.”

Tubal spread his arms, “We know they could give us knowledge that would give us the upper hand. They could help us craft weapons far superior to our enemies. Their minds house unfathomable knowledge, it is just a matter of getting them to spill it.”

“It is kill or be killed in this world daughter. Our founder Cain saw to that.” I rolled my eyes, father believed in the myth that our line was cursed as a result of descending form the first murderer, a belief he reminded us of frequently. “They came here because of the beauty of our women, and they see you as the greatest prize of all.”

“All save Semyaza.” I muttered.

Tubal-Cain came to me and placed a calloused hand against my arm, his touch surprisingly gentle for one who spent years pounding metal. “What is it you once told be sister? I am the genius of metal, you are the genius of flesh. We need your genius now sister, Enoch needs you. Will you get these secrets for us?”

Looking into twin eyes, I sighed, and nodded.

“Ha!” father rose triumphantly, “It seems I will finally marry you off after all daughter, to star people no less!”

So it was I played this delicate game with Azazel. With Semyaza off chasing another skirt Azazel had quietly assumed the role of chieftain of those Grigori still dwelling in Enoch. To him I had to give myself to, but not without the right price. I leaned forwards in my throne, “You proclaim love, but I know it for what it is, lust! Do not seek to toy with my sentiments, for you know as well as I love will not feed us, protect us, clothe us. If I betroth myself to you, what will you bring to my people?”

Azazel swallowed dryly, then eyed his fellow Grigori behind him, “What would you have of me?”

I indicated the royal delegation of Enoch standing to one side, with its many courtiers and nobles, Jabal and Jubal watching keenly, whilst Adah watched with envy. Zillah stayed close to father, ever ready to calm him. I mustered my most imperious voice, feeling my guide from the Lesser Palaces empowering them. “The secrets of metallurgy, gift this to my brother Tubal-Cain and I am yours to call wife.”

The Grigori muttered amongst themselves for some time, Azazel growing heated at one point. He finally made a chopping motion with one hand, and rounded to face me, “Very well, it is true that if I am to join your family that I should also seek to protect it.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw my brother’s shoulders rise in hidden joy. I gave my best smile and rose, “Then we must begin the wedding plans!”

xxxxx

As befitting the world’s greatest beauty who bore also royal blood, the marriage was a lavish, city-wide affair. Lamech drained the coffers to ensure all citizens wanted not for food, wine or entertainment during the seven day celebration. It spread like a fever throughout Enoch, the streets were full of visiting pilgrims wishing to partake in the festivities, vendors made a fortune, trade boomed, the palace was filled with tapestries and feasts, even the famous Bedchamber of Enoch, the room where our finder died when the roof collapsed upon him, was opened and the rubble sprinkled with flower petals. The temple was a bustle, although the celebration was for me and Azazel I had my hands full directing my priestesses to keep the rituals going throughout as the pilgrims packed our halls and filled it with songs of praise to the annunaki. The harbor struggled to find space for all the visiting ambassadors and nobles seeking to announce their congratulations and garner favor.

On the seventh day was the wedding itself, and extortionate amount of rose petals carpeted the path from the palace where the royal delegation escorted me to the temple, my father taking my arm as he escorted me to the carriage. He looked uncomfortable in his royal robes, ever used to the leather jerking and chain mail he had grown accustomed to in his years campaigning. Zillah was to the other side of me, resplendent in her silken robes that clung nicely to her buxom figure. But the many gaudy attires of the wealthy only served to emphasize my own beauty. White rabbit fur shoes, a moonstone girdle and pearl circlet was all I would deign to wear. I looked only the more beautiful for it, needing no brightly colored fabric to stand above them all in perfection. Holding a bouquet of white lilies we made our way via the king’s road, the cheering throng all about us, escorted by father’s personal guard in polished armor.

Reaching the temple entrance, father took my arm, gave me a wry grin that I returned, and escorted me up the steps where Chedipe waited to give the holy words of binding. There Azazel awaited me, in his tunic and hose of white and blue he looked magnificent, his unearthly beauty setting me on fire again. Semyaza’s rejection was all but forgotten upon seeing him. There were few who grumbled that the high priestess is forbidden to marry, for the Grigori were above mortal laws and the masses saw it as their city gaining the favor of the gods.

With a silk ribbon binding our hands, we said our holy vows and after much ceremony we were wedded. I looked up to the idols surrounding us and gave thanks before being whisked to the enormous feast that awaited us in the palace. There were far too many speeches and more than a little drunken talk praising my beauty. Finally, the time of consummation had arrived and after my father’s speech Azazel lifted me up in his powerful arms and took me to the quarters prepared for us. I was as eager as he, for my lust for him only grew the longer I was at his side, a strangely clean lust that I was unused to.

The room was perfumed with incense, the bed littered with petals. As he set me down, the servants closed the doors behind us. Smiling, I took his hand and began leading him to the bed, “Time to show you what true divinity is.”

He did not follow, “First, I have a wedding gift for you.”

Seeing my curious stare, he smiled and moved to a hanging cloth of black. He yanked it, and my breath stopped short as the cloth fell away to reveal what was beneath it.

I beheld a reflection of myself, not the smeared, blurry reflections of the copper or obsidian sheen but the perfect reverse-twin of myself in exact detail. I touched the glass, expecting it to ripple like water, but finding a cool, hard surface instead. “How?” My question was cut short as I admired myself, my moonlit skin, curved hips and breasts, long black hair, truly I was beautiful, and deserving only of an equally beautiful prince.

“Another secret I gift to you.” Azazel whispered as he began removing my few garments carefully, kissing the pretty neck I now drank in with this magnificent device. “This and I shall show you how to make far better cosmetics rather than the droll you use now, you deserve only the best my love.”

When the last jeweled garment fluttered away, I spun on Azazel and kissed him, “And you deserve only the best in turn.” I swiftly undressed him and found he was every bit as perfect under his clothes as I imagined. I lowered myself and swallowed his cock, like a serpent returning to its den, and worked my tongue. Azazel was no Marakesh, he did not ejaculate prematurely and lasted long into the night. I eyed my reflection as I worked and fancied I looked beautiful even with a cock filling my mouth, perhaps more so. I sensed the agreement of my mentor who coiled happily in my head.

Raising me up in his strong arms, he took me to the bed and lowered me upon the soft sheets. Carefully at first he entered me, causing me to moan aloud, his hips thrusting slowly then picking up pace as I grew accustomed to his large manhood within me. His hands roamed me, crushing my breasts, caressing my figure as my nails dragged along his back. I kissed him and wrapped myself tight to him, but only so I could look over his shoulder.

I watched myself fornicating in the mirror, unable to tear my eyes from how perfect I looked in the act of coitus. Truly I was born to be a harlot, I was a masterpiece.

For the briefest moment, the reflection disappeared and I saw a figure standing there as if peering through a window. A naked woman of exquisite beauty to rival my own, giving me a warm look of pride, a woman I recognized from the Lesser Palaces. Before panic could engulf me I felt more than heard her utter, “Daughter.” Then I was no longer there, caught in the throes of prophecy.

It was myself in the nightmare city, upon the altar, legs spread to a queue of waiting horrors wanting their turn with me, a familiar thrill of terror filled me as they entered. When not mating my womb spilled forth more of them, who joined the queue for their turn. Then I was up high, seeing the world from the stars as the Grigori must have, only the land seemed to be aflame, in the fire I could see writhing figures screaming for help, and it came in all its devastation as the oceans intruded upon the land to douse the fire.

2. The First Witch

“And Azazel taught men to make swords, and knives, and shields, and breastplates, and made known to them the metals of the earth and the art of working them, and bracelets, and ornaments, and the use of antimony, and the beautifying of the eyelids, and all kinds of costly stones, and all colouring tinctures.” — The Book of Enoch

“You look at that far too much.” Azazel chided as he dressed himself.

I smiled over my shoulder at him, then continued to apply the kohl around my eyes, an excellent cosmetic he had shown to me and my fellow handmaidens. We all walked around with painted faces now, and brought in more worshippers than ever before. “I don’t hear you complaining about the results.”

I rose and looked at the result, pleased how my eyes were now even more enchanting for the crushed substances around it, my hair and body shone with the scented oils coating them, my lips gave a luscious red colour thanks to the ochre clay. Around my breasts and above my navel I had used paints to show markings associating me with the gods I revered. You could argue that it was I who bore the world’s first tramp-stamp!

A peal of weeping erupted from the nearby cot. Azazel tutted and picked up our son, rocking him, “Must be hungry again.” He looked concerned, I was not the first or the last to bear the Grigori children. Reports came in how they consumed more than most and grew at an accelerated rate. The people began to refer to these half-breeds as Nephilim, and Azazel constantly fretted over what that meant for the future of our son.

I shrugged, “I’ll find the wet nurse.” As always Azazel gave me a condemning look. Several times he insisted that it is better for the child to drink from their own mother’s breasts. But I had already risked ruining my body giving him a son, I was not about to risk my tits as well, especially now that they had grown in size. So I had procured a slave girl with fat tits to feed him.

At my beckoning she entered, chest swinging, and carefully took the child from my husband, “Goodness, I fed him not an hour ago, your little son will grow to be a strong one. I just hope he does not drain me dry before!”

Azazel kissed my forehead, “I must go, your brother has made a lot of progress with my teaching but if I leave him alone too long he will try it himself and waste good metal.”

“I must go also.” I stood to follow him.

He bit his lip as he walked beside me, “You will seek prophecy again?”

I nodded, “Tensions are flaring up between tribes again, father needs guidance.”

“Be careful, it is dangerous what you do. There are things out there that…” he shuddered, “Be careful.” With that he took his leave.

His warning had come too little too late, not that I would have listened then anyway. Since that night I had been unable to achieve prophecy, be it via the divination bowl or coitus with my husband. Try as I might I simply could not get the visions that were so demanded of me. A sick feeling in my gut came whenever I considered why. I had been corrupted by the realm of the Lesser Palaces, I was unworthy in the eyes of the gods and they had abandoned me. Of course I dared not say as such to anyone, secretly performing rituals and sacrifices in the hope of earning their forgiveness. All to no avail. I wanted to avoid it, strove to be a more chaste woman for the sake of my son and love, but in desperation I sought the advice of the Lesser Palaces. They had become strangely silent also, the guide in my mind now dormant.

So I continued tutoring my disciples in the way of divination, and fed false visions to all vague enough to be interpreted in many ways. But I knew it would be a matter of time before I was revealed as a charlatan.

That day was no easier for it. I sat upon my silver throne and accepted audiences with various worshipers and nobles, giving advice that sounded lacking even to my own ears. I saw the doubtful looks in the crowd before me, and was relieved when the time came for me to dance and give sacrifice to the gods. My beauty had not left me at least, and I still mesmerized all of Enoch with my sinuous moves and splendid body, especially with the Grigori inspired cosmetics now at my disposal.

When the event was over and the crowds funneled out, Chedipe approached the throne and whispered in my ear, “A messenger has come for you, he says he serves one of the Grigori.”

I gave a wave and bid the well dressed messenger approach. He gawked at me first, clearly this was the first time he had beheld me in person, before falling to his knees and holding aloft a wax cylinder. “For your beautiful eyes alone, high priestess.”

Intrigued, I opened the cylinder and found another inside with carved impressions. Knowing what it was, I bid Chedipe fetch me ink and parchment. Using one the of priestesses’ backs as a table I dipped the cylinder in the ink and rolled it across the parchment to reveal the message. It was short and simple: I would meet with thee at the moon’s zenith beside the silver waters. Seek the twisted tree.

I considered. As high priestess I knew the phases of the moon by heart, so knew this referred to tonight. Someone wanted to meet me by the city’s source of freshwater and fish, the vexing part would be finding the tree. The most sensible thing to do was have the messenger send my refusal, it could be an assassination attempt, or a means for the Sethites to gain me as a hostage, or a lovelorn fool thinking to have his way with me. More than a few hearts and loins were left broken and frustrated upon my marriage. But then, if I were sensible I would have been a demure little wife to a noble, forgotten to time.

“Chedipe, send word to my husband that I will be performing a divination at the temple tonight, then round up the most trustworthy of my handmaidens and Besotted.” The Besotted were the name of my armed guards, men who swore vows to protect me at all costs. I gave a silent nod to the messenger, who bowed, gawked at me a little more, then took his leave.

xxxxx

“Well, is this not quaint?” I said, stepping into the candlelight. With my retinue we circled the large lake that served as the city’s water source, until we left the bustling urban settlement in the distance for the quiet solitude of the wilderness. An owl hooted in the distance, causing some of my Besotted to clasp their weapons. Eventually I found what had to be the tree, an enormous twisted willow that lacked the grace most of its kind possessed. To my guard’s and priestesses dismay, I bid them wait where they were whilst I approached the area, disappearing from their sight over the rocky outcropping.

Under the tree, several red candles burned around carpets where food and a pitcher of wine waited. There on the carpets reclined a hooded figure who, even concealed, was clearly Grigori. I watched for hidden traps or men, but espied none.

Seating myself beside the figure, I spoke brazenly as I checked over my painted nails, “Enough secrecy, reveal yourself.”

Nodding, the figure pulled back his hood, revealing gold hair and sapphire eyes. I felt my heart jump as I recognised Semyaza, and felt my desire for him rise. Hope beckoned, hope which I quickly snuffed out, reminding myself of his rejection and insults before. “Well, well,” I said tersely, “You have some nerve returning to me.”

He looked at me with sad eyes and I was in love all over again. Azazel had a dark, ethereal beauty to him, but Semyaza, well, Semyaza was like looking at the magnificence of the sun. It will burn your retinas away but you cannot help but look. He spoke with a voice both masculine and divine, “I wanted to apologize to you. My words were cruel and unnecessary at our parting.”

I ground my teeth, “You rejected me. Me! Do you know why they call me ‘The Charmer’? Because the gods themselves lust for me, indeed it was I who finally persuaded your indecisive brethren to fall with my beauty. Yet it was you I chose, and you turn me away?”

He looked away to the lake, then down at his hands, “I am sorry, this body was still new to me at the time. I, I did not know how difficult it is to be on this world, the frustrations a flesh body brings.” He drifted into silence for a time, then spoke again, “I hear you are married to Brother Azazel now. Congratulations.”

The envy in his voice was unmissable, “And what of this Ishtar you chased after? Is she your wife now?”

His hands clenched, “She alludes me, dismisses my advances. She…says we should not have come here, we are not meant to be here. She seeks to protect her virginity.”

It was all I could do not to smirk, “Should have accepted my advances, Grigori. But I understand your frustration and sadness. I felt these emotions too when you turned me away.” I took one of his hands, and pressed it to my breast, “I think you also came for more than just forgiveness.”

He winced, but did not pull his hand away, hope fluttered in me again. “My brother…”

“Will never know.” I ended, “Continue your chase for this Ishtar on the morrow. I am here, right now, with you. Let yourself go this one night.” I brought his hand up, began sucking at his fingers.

Then he was on me, kissing me fiercely, with a desperate passion of one who had been frustrated for so long. I gleefully returned his embrace, joyously spread my legs and took his perfect member into me. Not even Semyaza could resist me! I felt the sting of the previous affront vanish as he slid in and out of me hard, I clang to him as though for dear life under the wondrous assault. His lips sucked at my breasts, making me delirious with pleasure. I pictured how beautiful I must look to him, raven hair strewn about me, breasts glinting in the candlelight as my dark eyes looked up to him. I must have looked magnificent pinned under this golden being as he pounded me mercilessly, letting out all his frustration, all his sorrow, all his regret.

It was spoiled somewhat, as he orgasmed, letting loose his warm seed into me, whispering “Ishtar.” as he collapsed onto me in exhaustion. I did not let it irk me too much, let him long for this frigid Ishtar, it was I who had him, I who can win the lust and love of all.

xxxxx

Semyaza partook of me several more times that night before he gave his farewell, possessing the guilt angst expression of a man who had betrayed his brother, stealing away into the night. I remained on the carpets he left behind, enjoying the treats he had brought.

I sank back to the past again, recalled how I came to be high priestess. The ecstatic is a dangerous thing, destructive and desirable. With it I gained influence within the temple, winning more and more to my side, until the old crone realized my corruption and sought to do away with me. It failed remarkably, and led to a night of spectacular violence as priestess tore at priestess, ending with me fornicating with Chedipe next to a dying high priestess whose name would rightfully be lost to time, her spirit leaving her as Chedipe and I screamed in victorious orgasm.

Eventually, as the twilight of false dawn brightened the horizon, I rose, loins throbbing from the ordeal, and strode to the water’s edge. I could just about make out my reflection upon the water’s surface. I admired myself again, I did not know just how hard I had taken Semyaza’s rejection until he had ploughed me. I felt renewed, I felt like the ‘The Charmer’ once more.

I spread my legs to gain a better view of my labia, chuckled at the seed leaking from there. A single drop of it fell to the water, spreading ripples and distorting my reflection. Within those ripples a familiar face appeared, and broke through to the surface.

Giving a yelp of fright I stumbled back and fell to the embankment, watching in amazement as a feminine form arose to stand upon the water as though it were solid. Her naked body shone ivory in the twilight, her red hair fell long and loose from her, with sensual yet predatory eyes she looked upon me. Smiling, she took a step forwards.

When I shuffled back, she paused. She reached out an elegant hand, “Why do you tremble so, do you not recognize me?”

My body was tense, ready to take flight, but I kept to where I was for the moment, curiosity getting the better of me, “You are from the Lesser Palaces.”

She quirked her head, “Is that what you call my kingdom here? I suppose that makes me the Lesser Queen.”

My heart raced and eyes widened with comprehension as I thought back to our teachings, I had thought her a fallen spirit, condemned to eternal rape by those beasts. But if what she claimed was true then … “You are—”

“The first woman, and first failure to narrow minds. Mother of harlots, consort of Tehom and successor of fallen Tiamat.” She smiled and purred my name, “Na’amah. I have watched you with pride for some time now, you hold potential sweet one.” She stepped onto the bank.

Although all my senses told me to run, she had the opposite effect upon my loins. Although I did not generally lean towards women save when entertaining men, she set my vulva aflame like not even Semyaza had. It was powerful, dangerously so, I could feel it trying to consume me. “What do you want?” I gasped.

“You sought to lean away from me.” She leaned down and placed her fingers against my cheek, her touch setting my body off even more, “As consequence, you can no longer attain visions of the possible futures, I have seen your struggle, and foreseen your downfall as a result. I can help you, teach you things not even those hormone addled Grigori know. You will not only have visions again, you will have powers beyond those capable of most mortals.” She smiled, it conjured the vision of a serpent about to strike, “And like me, your beauty will be eternal.”

“I am a holy harlot.” I struggled against my own flesh, “As such I know such things demand a price.”

She shrugged, “I want you to join me. There is a vision I have attained, one that I will see come to pass, no matter how many aeons it takes. Join my family, for you will not merely be my disciple, I would accept you as my daughter. I will nurture you as Zillah never could.”

She straddled me and pressed herself close, her sweet perfume intoxicating me, “Lesson number one, in the Lesser Palaces, incest is a habit we are expected to indulge in.” She locked her lips with mine, and I was lost to my senses utterly. As we explored one another, I knew pleasure that night that no other had ever afforded me.

When I climaxed, I did so with such intensity that I lay there utterly spent. I looked for my mother to find she was gone, as though she had always been a specter, a thing of my own imagination. But I knew that it was more than a mere vision, for I now held a craving that would remain with me from then on, never to be satiated. I felt her presence in my mind, understanding it had always been her, guiding me, aiding me.

From that moment on I was hers, forever.

 

3. Bloodlines

“She was the mother of demons; she bore them. For look, the mother of Ashmedai, king of the demons, is named Na’amah.” — Zohar Hadash

Something you need to understand reader, if you are one of those primitive, ape-like beings of today, I am an antediluvian. We mortals of then were different to you mortals of this age. We bore more refined forms than the crude forms you can take today, the gateways to the other realms bore less of a hurdle for us to reach as they do your sealed minds. On top of that we were far longer lived, I had already reached what you would consider a full lifetime without the signs of time marring my beauty when mother laid the task before me.

It was about a decade since my marriage to Azael, and Enoch prospered and was on the verge of subjugating the Sethians. They accepted no Grigori amongst their peoples and were at a huge disadvantage for it. Our people saw wealth like never before, it seemed a certain guilt laced Girgori had taken residence at the heart of the Atlantean empire and negotiated favorable trade for us, perhaps out of silent apology to Azazel or to hold my tongue. Either way the trade was welcome.

After our latest celebrations, I returned to my chambers, exerted from the dance and ritual I had performed. Father had returned after another successful campaign, brought about by the improved weaponry, the aid of our mighty nephilim warriors led by my son and my fresh visions to guide them. Yes, I received visions once more, it seemed my attempt at playing the doting wife had turned the Lesser Palaces from me. After my night with Semyaza, however, the wanton whore was awakened within me once more, and behind my husband’s back I strolled the path of manic whoredom once again, offering my holes in exchange for influence and power, or sometimes for the sake of it. On the odd occasion I even sneaked out with Chedipe and played the common street prostitute as we had all those years ago. In return, besides the sheer pleasure it brought, I saw the worlds beyond and the threads of fate weaving before me, and saw the roads of time and space we had to take. Truly that was the Golden Age of the antediluvian period.

I had been enjoying the festivities with my family when a beckoning began to resound in my skull, ceaselessly calling to me with the unending patience of a parent to her child. Leaving my husband and family to their celebrations, I stole away into the temple to my bed chamber. There I took a moment before the mirror to touch up my cosmetics, admired myself awhile until I could stand the beckoning no longer, “Yes mother?”

My reflection vanished, replaced instead by swirling shadows, forming and breaking like smoke. Faces leered at me before fading, limbs reached before melting. Out of this miasma stepped mother, her beauty still transfixed me even years later. She paid no heed to the vaporous limbs caressing and fondling her even as they disappeared, her focus completely on me. “I see the city of Enoch prospers.”

I nodded and sat on my bed, “Thanks to what you taught me among other things. So what lessons have you for me tonight?” Indeed, it was through her I had ascended the rungs of prophecy once more, it was she who revealed to me that by embracing the whims of the Lesser Palaces I could achieve much more in shorter a time, albeit with greater risk to my sanity. Still, she had saved me from being outed as a fraud, giving back to me the gift of vision, even if it was no longer through the gods but more repugnant beings that would eventually have their way with me.

She smiled, placing a hand upon the pane, “No lessons, a task. There is a Grigori among you known as Shamdon, you know him?”

I nodded, one of the lesser Grigori, still powerful but not the best known, “What of him?”

“The language of his flesh is promising.” She leaned closed, her breasts pressing tantalizingly against the mirror, “You must seduce and bear his child, I would see the results.”

I felt my eye twitch as outrage filled me, I stood up sharply, “Am I but a breeding mare to you, mother? Just because your womb no longer brings forth terrors you think to use mine as a replacement?” Over the course of her teachings, she had revealed to me how she had fled to the Lesser Palaces and fornicated with the eldritch creatures there, attempting to bring forth a superior race, until she became barren. But old habits die hard, and she continues to play the whore for them to this day. She had never let go of that ambition to be queen of a world dominating race of a higher species, but now she sought a new means of creating them, my suspicions had then been confirmed that I was one such avenue of achieving it.

“You are my beloved daughter.” She sighed, then became stern, “And my breeding mare. In time your body will change to my design, the language of your flesh rewritten, and I expect you to bear forth many grandchildren to serve us, starting with that of Shamdon.”

I folded my hands, thinking of my current son. He had become a disappointment for me, had grown needlessly vicious and spoiled, with an intellect little beyond that of a clumsy oaf, a violent clumsy oaf whose only skill was on the battlefield. Even Azazel struggled to temper him. “Know what entails being a mother? Dealing with rebellious children. I refuse.”

“Yes, your son is rebellious isn’t he?” She glowered, then sighed as a shadow tendril entered between her legs before dissipating, “But you do not fool me, you feel no love for him, he is inferior, unsuited to our designs. I have seen this, and I know you feel this. He shall not last. But the progeny of Shamdon’s, I promise he will do nicely, you will develop a true bond to him, and he will thrive.”

I felt the blood drain from my face, it was one thing to think such things of my son, another to hear them voiced aloud so casually. “How dare you speak of my son so? You think to deceive me, your kind are known for such things. Again, I refuse.”

She laughed, a musical and terrible thing, “We are more honest than your gods. Oh daughter, you may refuse but your body cannot. We are more closely bonded than you know, you are my living avatar, in time I shall wear you as I please. Now go and seduce him.”

“More lies.” I screeched, stomping out of the room, laughter only I could hear trailing after me.

I rejoined the festivities, men juggled scimitars on stage, the Grigori gorged a huge portion of the foods on offer, already beginning to tower over the rest of us. A source of growing consternation amid some people. I joined my seat beside Azazel. I did my usual, giving seductive glances to various people whose influence was of import, relishing the various drunken eyes upon my body partaking of the fine wine before me. I took no heed of the faint whisper in my head and the slight twitch in my extremities.

As the night wore on however, the twitch grew to a throb, to an ache, to a raging inferno. The whisper in my skull took on more and more perverse tones, further arousing me. It grew to the point where it was unbearable. I wanted to scream, jump on stage and beg everyone to fuck me it was so bad. Only when I saw Shamdon giving his farewells did I understand that either I did as mother wished or finally lose my sanity completely.

Giving some flimsy excuse, I excused myself and rushed out into the city, the cool night air doing nothing to dampen my fire. I made my way down the street, moving as swiftly and silently as I could until I saw Shamdon on his journey to the Grigori quarter. His walk was faltering, suggesting he was deep into his cups, a good sign. I raced into the next street and ahead of him so that I could emerge before him from a dark alley like a common whore. The thought of it sent a strange sense of excitement through me.

Emerging into his line of sight, I trailed my hands over myself, jewels clinking, “Hail Shamdon, why do you leave so soon? I was hoping I could get to know you better?”

Shamdon took pause, he was no Semyaza or Azazel, but he was still handsome. My hunger for him only grew, more so for the taboo nature of it. “Is that you, holy one?”

“It is I.” I replied, moving closer, “And you are you. I am with you, but would you be with me?”

Hesitation, it was not unexpected, “I don’t think Lord Azazel would care for this behavior.”

“Then it is not I.” I grinned, “You are but a Grigori with an itch, and I am but a nameless whore on the street, used today and forgotten tomorrow.” The promise of secrecy was enough, he allowed himself to be pulled into the alleyway.

Later that night I returned to the bedchamber, where mother still stood at the mirror, “You enjoyed that, do not deny it.”

“It was…different.” Shamdon had taken my role of street whore to heart. He bent me over a barrel of gods knows what and thrust into me with all the abandon of a sex starved sailor. Although I would not admit it aloud, I found the role to my liking. “So now what?”

“Open your legs, show me.” I fell back on the bed and did so, mother studied the loins that a world craved for with keen interest, “You are fertilized, my beloved breeding mare.”

“Oh stop it.” I said as I rubbed scented ointments over myself.

Chuckling, mother kissed the pane, “Thank you daughter, be sure you lay with your husband tonight, lest suspicion arise. You will be glad of tonight, I promise you this.”

She was not wrong, and as I lay with Azazel I foresaw a new king rising, powerful, handsome. Behind him was legion upon legion of mutated horrors, ready to subdue the world to his will.

 

4. Protoplast

“And two female spirits (Lilith and Naamah) would come and copulate with him and bear children. and those whom they bore are the evil spirits of the world who are called the Plagues of Mankind. And they lead the sons of man astray, and dwell in the doorway of the house, and in the cisterns and in the latrines…” — Zohar

“I would have you work with me tonight.” Mother said.

I knelt before the mirror in a dour mood. I had given birth to a son, who we named Ashmedai. Even as a newborn I felt an unusual love for him and sensed his greatness to come. But I had to wonder if he would ever grow to achieve it. There had been more and more revolts breaking out in the city, sparked by famine caused by our nephilim children. Worse, it was coming to light that the nephilim lacked moral restraint like their Grigori fathers. My own son had partaken of vile vices before being beaten to death by a mob in the street. There were even reports that some nephilim had taken to eating us mortals as a delicacy. Father and Azazel did their best to quell the unrest, but it was growing harder and harder whilst our resources continued to dwindle.

Worse, there was rumor of a gathering army, dedicated to wiping out the nephilim and the Grigori, that was soon to march upon them.

I was beginning to feel the consequences of my mother’s influence also. Before, I had always been promiscuous, but I could see now I was becoming outright depraved. Surrendering to my insistent body, I began sneaking out more and more to engage in sexual acts I would never have considered before. Worse, I enjoyed these forays and craved them.

“Daughter?”

I broke out of my thoughts, “Last night I went to the harbor, where I was gang-fucked by a group of foul smelling fishermen.”

Purring, mother clasped her breasts, “Lucky whore, would that I could have been there with you.”

“Weren’t you? I begin to wonder.”

“I merely bring your true self to the surface. The sooner you embrace that aspect of your nature the more pleasure it will bring you. Now, will you travel with me tonight?”

Blinking in confusion, I raised a perfect eyebrow, “How?”

“Mirrors are not just windows to my realm daughter.” she laughed in that musical tone, “They are gateways, portals. Come forth, take my hand.”

Uncertain, I stood, and reached out. I gasped in delight when my hand easily passed through, and for the first time since that night by the lake I felt my mother’s touch once again. Her touch set me alight once more, and all the distaste for my depraved acts changed to pride. I wanted only to experience more such things at my mother’s side. I stepped through, and then we were flying.

I whooped and laughed as the world spun below me, my mood uplifted, I clasped my mother’s hand tightly, and wondered if this is what it was to be a goddess, looking down upon creation as she would ants. The journey ended far too soon, with mother setting me down upon a field beside a fast-flowing river. Beside it stood a simple hut, right out in the middle of nowhere. “Why bring me here?”

“There is a repenting man in there, in need of release.” She tutted, “I know him, he will snap out of it eventually, but in the meantime I mean to procure as much of his seed as possible. Will you work with me?”

I was giddy with the chance to see my mother in action, “Of course, lead the way.”

We walked over to the doorway, where she paused. “Do as I do.” With that, she dimmed into a shadow, flitted through the closed door, and smiled at me through a nearby window.

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“Imagine you do not exist, that you never were, that you are nothing. You will fade, you’ll see.”

I closed my eyes, went into the deep trance I was accustomed to for ritual, imagined I was not, never was, and proceeded to thud straight into the door. Cursing and fretting over the imagined damage to my face, I heard a bolt sliding and mother opening the door for me, grinning mischievously, “It will take some practice, come.”

I entered the wretched little hovel, unimpressed by the simple place. I was less impressed by the man sleeping on a simple straw mat, his faced lined with years of guilt and self loathing, “Who is this?”

Mother rolled her eyes, “Father of all, yet with all the awareness of an infant. Come, it is his seed we need.” Unsure what she meant, I watched as she set a nearby lamp on low, and pulled his thorn covered loincloth away. He remained in slumber, yet his cock swelled with my mother’s presence. I watched my mother set to with fascination, it was like watching the most talented performer. Truly I had found my equal in beauty and skill at harlotry. She choked and slobbered over his phallus with the same hunger as myself, before taking him into her womb. I watched, hypnotized, as she bounced herself up and down, tits flailing, hair flicking, her moans uniting with his. Then, suddenly, she stopped, and beamed at me as she panted, “This is not a solo performance daughter, come.”

I did just that. Together we licked at his phallus, myself jerking with delight when my tongue brushed with mother’s. We took turns taking him into us, every hole of me got to know his member intimately. As I rode him mother locked lips with myself, spurring me further. I felt myself dissolve into her, and welcomed it.

At last I felt our reward approaching. I had always worked myself for influence, wealth and power. But to whore myself for the semen alone lent a new kind of thrill. I waited, eager to lap it up, when mother produced a silver goblet. “Sorry dear, I suggest you go out and drink someone else’s seed later. This one is mine.” She then whipped forwards as he ejaculated, catching the seed in the goblet, before flicking the lid closed.

Arms around one another’s waists we left the dingy hut, laughing wickedly and remarking upon each other’s prowess. She then flew me back and bid me step back through the mirror. “We shall repeat this tomorrow night,” She promised, brushing hair back around her sovereign horns,”For as many nights as possible. I want to ensnare as much of his seed as I can before he finally crawls out of his self-pity. It is also the perfect chance to teach you true whoredom, daughter.”

Before I could inquire about this mystery man further, I was left with my own sweat sheened image.

I sat on my bed awhile, still maddeningly aroused and feeling the beginnings of a new kind of thirst, for what I could not then say. But I waited late into the night with no sign of my husband, the business of the revolt keeping him at bay. So I summoned Chedipe and we made into the city, wondering if any of those smelly fishermen were still around.

 

5. Fascinus

“And the women have borne giants, and the whole earth has thereby been filled with blood and unrighteousness.” — The Book of Enoch

I should probably note us mortals back then are not as you are today. We ‘antediluvians’ as you term us, were are longer lived for starters, unlike you who waste away and die in the blink of an eye. Almost nightly for roughly one hundred thirty years I went with mother to the strange man, whose identity I would come to understand, until one night she proclaimed their window of opportunity over. I was saddened not to be working with her further, she was perhaps the only woman whom it pleased me to observe beside myself. Promising we would dabble in the ways of harlotry again, I continued my studies under her brazen watch.

As I progressed under the tutelage of my mother, it became clear to me that I would need to bring my closest priestesses into the fold to ensure their absolute loyalty. Certainly they had taken on some of my influence in their behaviors, but not too the levels that would eventually be demanded. Every moment spent working in the lower spheres of existence was a risk of being discovered, and should such a moment arise I would need allies.

Summoning my handmaidens, we gathered in a room used for private ritual. The braziers burned and gave of a morbid scent, if any of them noticed that the protective charms and markings were missing they did not comment, I had them kneel around the altar, the images of our deities ominously absent. “I would reveal a new ritual of my own design. It begins,” I picked up a bowl filled with a concoction formulated under the advise of my mother, “With a drink. Take only a sip and hand it to the next devotee.” I passed the silver bowl to Chedipe, who dutifully sipped and handed it on.

Once done, I placed the bowl back on the altar and looked them over, seeing the potion and the fumes were already starting their work. “First, we must meditate. Close your eyes, slow your breathing, focus until your mind is blank.” Trusting as ever, they did as I bid, “Good, now conjure this image. Imagine a mighty phallus before you,” A few snickers, “Focus now. Imagine it, erect, throbbing, dripping with pre-cum. You want it, need it, like nothing else matters. Now, picture a vulva located where your heart should be. Imagine this phallus gliding in, ravaging it, filling you whole.” It was working, their breathing quickened, their eyelids fluttered.

“Enter.” I called, the doors opened and in came my Besotted, unclothed. Their discomfort was obvious. I had them partake of the concoction also and now they each sported painful erections. They would do anything for relief, and I would grant it them. “What is this, Your Reverence?” Chedipe asked, watching as we were surrounded.

I hissed as I felt mother in my head, goading me on, “Simple, my sisters, we are partaking of an orgy, now do you duty and relieve these poor tortured men.”

Under the influence, the orgy was a furious one. For hours it went on, with my own holes pummeled I watched as my sisters were hammered without mercy, watching their shrieks and moans was a thing of beauty. By the end of it, they were all on the floor, spent, I wondered if any of my Besotted’s hearts had given out under the strain. There was only one with enough energy to keep at it, and he had me over the altar, tugging my hair and stuffing my rectum. As he did so, Chedipe, groaned and stirred, “This was dangerous holy one, what was the purpose of it?”

“Purpose?” I gasped as I felt the Besotted flood me and fall to rest against the wall. “You are all afflicted with pride, sisters. High ranking priestesses that enjoy the attentions of the wealthy. I intend to break you all down and make you comprehend your true selves, even if it means breaking you. Enter!”

The door opened, and the next group of afflicted Besotted entered. I felt mother’s laugh within me.

xxxxx

Every night for weeks I repeated this. I grew to know my handmaidens intimately, and developed them to my liking. Siris struggled with her gag reflex, so I had her exclusively sucking cocks for a long time, Yrisi was too slow and boring in her lovemaking, so I had my men show her how it is done, Chedipe had an aversion to anal, so I ensured she took it in the ass several times each night. In time, their complaints changed to dull acceptance, then a new light began to enter their eyes. They started to laugh wickedly, offer themselves eagerly, and speak with a crudeness common to those without shame. They would cheer and encourage one another, embrace and kiss as they were showered with semen. All grew to love their new found carnality, and were now mindlessly loyal to me. They began to paint or tattoo phallic markings upon themselves, where that of their gods had been. I myself started to bear such a marking on my navel and on the left cheek of my rear.

Their attitudes began to spread throughout the temple also, like an infection. A new and more fervent form of religious ecstasy gripped the temple, over the next few years it would spread to the city, and in time it went out further still. I had new statues and decorations commissioned that placed a grotesque emphasis on the sexual organs in vile acts. Troubadours began to sing explicit tales openly as the forbidden became the norm, once distasteful art pieces depicting blatantly pornographic images were now hailed as masterpieces.

It were as though I had brought a fever upon the populace, the world would be gripped in vice as such would not be seen again until the rise of the cities of Sodom.

 

6. Avatar

“Why was she called Na’amah? Because she beat on a drum to draw people to idol worship.” — Bereishit Rabbah

It was, I believe, the growing unrest that allowed my religion of the phallus explode in popularity as it did. With the increasing famine, violence and tyranny more and more lost their faith in the gods and sought to lose themselves in the ecstatic rites I offered. Over the next century or so I found myself rarely sleeping. With the aid of my priestesses I penned a new holy text, referred to by worshipers as the ‘Yonian Excesses’ (a rough translation), which became distributed far and wide, people from around the world came to pay tribute.

At night I would speak to the gathered masses, dance and sing, then I would spend time at the mirror, learning from mother, I would then see to the more mundane tasks being high priestess demanded by snatching what little slumber I could. By day I was in the temple, upon a golden altar beneath the enormous statue of the divine phallus I took man after man into me, permitting myself no rest, spurred by the will of the lower spheres. From sunrise to sunset em and my followers engaged in harlotry. The temple was a far cry from the holy place it had been, now it was but an overly lavish brothel, and we holy sisters crude prostitutes who were strangers to dignity, and we were loved for it.

Of course with this rise there was no hiding my infidelities from my husband. As I grew more blatant in my sexual activities he became more distant, seeing me less and less. Eventually he gained the courage to confront me, leading to an argument that had him storming out of the temple, I had not seen him since, but knew he was aiding my father in the defense of the city.

I was on the altar, seeing to two devotees with such vigor I heard not the clinking of black armor. Only when they finished with me and no more came did I realize I had a guest. I looked up from my spread position and saw three men in the armor of father’s personal guard, the one n the center held a plumed helm under one arm to show himself. My Besotted drew closer, ever ready just in case. I felt that persistent ache that had only grown as I took in the handsome man before me. I became self-aware, realizing what a mess I must look, how I must reek of my devotees. Wishing I had bathed, I kept my sex on display, hoping against hope, pulse racing, as he regarded me with dark eyes.

But I was to be disappointed, “I would speak with you mother.” Ashmedai offered a gauntleted hand.

Swallowing dryly, I rose and took his hand. We made our way to the temple gardens where only the priestesses and those permitted by me could enter. The day was warm and bright, the trees and flowers in full bloom. The sound of the trickling artificial stream lent an air of calm. The outside stung my eyes at first, I had not seen daylight for some time. We walked and chatted about inconsequential matters for a bit. I allowed my body to react to him naturally. Over time, as Ashmedai came of age, I felt my maternal feelings twist and churn into a new emotion, one I had thought myself no longer capable of. Fitting that it would be toward someone so taboo for myself. Still I found myself leaning close to him, pushing my chest out and laughing flirtatiously.

Eventually, when we were far enough away from potential eavesdroppers, he turned and took my shoulders, “Mother, I coming bearing a message from grandmother.”

I listened intently. Zillah had become my eyes at court, sleeping around to dredge what secrets she could. Ever supportive, it was she who informed me that the Sethians had rallied a large army made for the purpose of wiping the Grigori and the nephilim from this world. Worse, they were winning and were slowly making their way to the city. Apparently it was clear there were traitors among us, feeding them intel that gave them the edge they desperately needed. “What is it?”

“There is a plot to make a martyr of you.” Before I could laugh and mention the countless assassination attempts he spoke again, “This one must be more serious, or she would not have had me relay this to you. That she could attain no names suggests someone higher up than usual.”

Nodding, I took this in, “I will increase my guard. Thank you Ashmedai.” I found myself leaning in to kiss him.

My heart leapt with joy when he leaned forwards, then quickly moved back. I could tell he wanted me, every bit as I did him. He gave me an apologetic smile, “Don’t want you staining my armor, my poor servants already spent hours polishing.”

I looked down at my coated breasts and giggled, quoting from my texts I spoke, “‘And no holier attire is there than the seed of man.'”.

Ashmedai rolled his eyes, and finished, “‘Give of yourselves, my sisters, until you are drowning in it. Give of yourselves until your very souls are stained white.'”

Laughing, I took his arm once again as we headed back, “You’ve read it!”

“Yes, a most…interesting book.” One back inside he gave me concerned look, “Be careful mother.” He kissed my cheek and donned his helm before taking his leave.

I stood there, watching his retreating form, “I want him mother, more than anyone I want him.” I felt her chuckle knowingly in my mind.

xxxxx

Enoch was under siege.

The army dedicated to exterminating the nephilim menace had proven successful, having already raided several settlements on the way, slaughtering every Grigori and nephilim dwelling within. The nephilim were regarded as locusts now, devoruing everything within sight and to be rid of like pests. Father had tired to push them back, but a series of defeats that could only have been attained through treachery had his forces retreat into the city. There were were encircled, and with our ever hungering nephilim the rations would not last long. Under increasing pressure, I sought visions, but they were all the same. The army storms in, despatching the nephilim and Grigori. After the army have their way with me I am put on a one-sided trial and eventually executed.

“There must be a way, there just has to be.” I said despairingly to the mirror where mother looked down at me.

“I have seen it also.” Mother answered, “It ends with the city sacked, and you experiencing some final delicious attentions before being despatched for being a mother to the nephilim.”

To my surprise, my thoughts were not of myself but of my son, Ashmedai, “Is there anything you can do?”

“Yes,” Mother drew the word out, arousing my suspicion, “There is a way. You must relinquish your body to me for a time.”

My jaw dropped, “Absolutely not, bad enough I feel you in my head constantly, pressing me into fucking everything that breathes. I dare not think what you would do if you took over fully.”

“I would save you, I have always had your interests at heart daughter.”

“Second to your vision that is.” I corrected.

“Well, yes.” Despite being taught that the Lesser Palace’s were creatures of lies and deception, mother had never once lied to me, openly stating her intentions for me. I was not sure if that made my sins worse, that I walked the path of ruin knowingly.

I shook my head, “No thank you, I shall find another way.”

“There is none.” I heard her call out to me in a worried tone as I stormed away. “Daughter, wait, hear me out!”

I would not. With things as dire as they were I was busier than ever, terrified citizens flocked to the temple, and I had to keep their ecstatic faith alive if the city were to stand any chance. I sent Chedipe with a number of my sisters to attend to the fatigued army, trying to get their spirits up and faith in ‘The Charmer’alive. Already whispers that Cain’s curse had reached us began to permeate the lesser folk, talk that the Grigori are not holy at all and that we are being punished reached my ears. I had to stem the dissent before it spilled over into something devastating.

As soon as I left my bedchambers my handmaidens fell in line behind me, and began seeing to my body in the dressing room. With Chedipe away, Siris took the lead, her heavy breasts swaying in mesmerizing fashion. “What are your plans this evening, Your Reverence?”

“We must retain the faith of the people, they must not turn back to the annunaki, the power of the divine ecstatic must thrive.” I spoke as she douse me in scented aromas, “We must give of ourselves more fiercely sisters, give the people the solace of our bodies in this time of tribulation.” It was then I noted the lack of Besotted standing guard, “Wait, where are-?”

“Adah sends her regards.” I turned in time to see the dagger arc its way down to me, Siris’ lovely face contorted in a snarl. Time slowed for me then, it seemed to take an age for the dagger to reach me. As the poisoned tip began to touch upon the surface of my skin a thought borne out of instinct resounded through my mind.

I never was!

Siris’ expression changed to one of shock as the dagger passed through me like fog. Casually, without thinking, I languidly reached out and grabbed her throat, every bit as surprised as her at my actions. As easily as a twig I snapped her life away. Blinking, I scanned the room to see more priestesses, daggers drawn, standing over the bodies of my loyalists. “The dumb whore missed, get her quick!” One snapped, they advanced upon me as one. I had not been taught the ways of combat, I knew not how to wield a weapon, but I did know how to dance.

So I danced, leaping, pirouetting and swaying about their strikes, occasionally reaching out to end the threat. I danced and danced until I had no dancing partners left, it was me alone amidst a room filled with corpses. Sickened at the betrayal, I fled out the room, pressed my back against the door. In the distance, I could hear the sound of trebuchets pounding the city. Panicked thoughts raced through my mind, were others being assassinated right now? Was Lamech slain, Azazel dead, my son…

It might not be too late, I knew what I had to do.

Flinging out my arms, I felt the ensorcelled names she had taught me erupt from my throat, “Abitar! Abiko! Amorpho!Hakaš! Odam! Kephido! Ailo! Matrota! Abnukta! Šatriha! Kali! Batzeh! Talui! Kitša! Lilith!” I felt her presence grow in my mind, dominating me, overpowering me, I welcomed it, “Kill them all, Lillake!”

I shuddered and fell to the floor, writhing in rapturous seizure, until I still, and watched as my body rose without my permission. My mouth spilled forth words that I had not thought to utter, “You see sense at last, daughter.”

xxxxx

I watched through eyes I had no control over as my body moved without my will. I watched myself walk through the rubble strewn streets towards the city wall, where I saw it now sported a large opening that Lamech frantically formed his men around. Azazel, bedecked in armor, saw me and shouted what I was doing there, but I could not answer.

The enemy army came pouring in, Lamech’s dwindling forces were pushed back quickly, and they began to head my way. Through my vocals, mother screamed an impossible scream, the sound sent the force staggering and clutching at their ears. Then, with a laughing, mocking voice, she spoke in a language this world was not physically able to bear. The world dimmed and minds shattered upon hearing it. Shadows grew and moved as if living, terrorizing the men even if they could touch them. In moments their morale had been broken as they realized they had entered a city of nightmare, they began fleeing.

Not one to miss an opportunity in battle, father gave a warcry and had his remaining men chase and cut them down, keen not to let them rally. Cavalry ran them down, sending them all running for the hills.

From the corner of consciousness I spoke up, “You did it! You actually did it!”

“Of course, in time you will gain such powers my dear.”

“It is done, give me back control.”

Fright gripped me as she laughed aloud and spoke openly, “Not just yet. You have become too enamored of your beauty daughter, and are in need of a doe of humility. A few days in the wilds should do it. You can watch as I spread your legs and rut with every beast that roams the-”

Suddenly, Azazel was before us, he place a finger to my forehead and utter a chiming syllable that sent mother shrieking back to the corner of my consciousness, giving dominance back to me. I fell back, felt arms catch me. I looked up to see the grime covered face of my son, his eyes wide with awe, “Mother, that was incredible.”

My body was spent from the ordeal, I could not rise. With a trembling limb I managed to raise a hand to brush his jaw line, “For you, anything.” I croaked.

A shadow was cast over us, Azazel glowered down at me, “Stupid woman.” He spat, “Nay, stupid me, I should have seen before.”

 

7. House Arrest

“And Zillah, she also bore Tubal-Cain, an instructor of every artificer in brass and iron: and the sister of Tubal-Cain was Naamah. And Lamech said unto his wives, Adah and Zillah, Hear my voice; ye wives of Lamech, hearken unto my speech: for I have slain a man to my wounding, and a young man to my hurt. If Cain shall be avenged seven fold, truly Lamech seventy and seven fold.” — Genesis 22-24

I had saved the city and provided the footstep for the nephilim to gain dominance over the world. But the price was revealing the influence the Lesser Palaces had on me. Instead of being treated as a hero I was instead loathed, my promiscuity now making sense. I was put under guard and kept within one of my ornate homes, forbidden to leave. Azazel had revealed to the city that it was falling under the influence of the Lesser Palaces, and without me to walk amongst and inspire them with my beauty, people were beginning to take heed. All I had built was falling apart.

Fortunately, they had not pieced together that the mirror was my main source of communication. As such I spent much of my seclusion studying with mother, without the distraction of city life I immersed myself in it fully and progressed much faster for it. I began to dance amid the aethers, with her guidance I saw worlds that would confound the mind, I could dim candlelight with a whim, conjure gibbering masses to plague my guards, and started to satiate my urges via shadow beings that she would send through the portal to my bedchamber.

Neither Zillah or Tubal-Cain were permitted to see me, Azazel warning they could be influenced by me. Not even Chedipe could gain an audience. My husband came several times, demanding I undergo a cleansing ritual, to which I just laughed. I spent what I believe must have been a decade sealed in that room, in that time I would gaze lovingly at my reflection and noted the changes mother’s touch had began to have on me. My breasts had grown larger, my figure more curvaceous, my loins were constantly wet now, and I was constantly afflicted with maddening arousal that was never relieved, no matter how of her children mother sent through the mirror to me. Everything about me was designed towards instilling brutal lust in all who looked upon me, I had thought myself perfect before, now I was whoredom personified. Alas that I could not be loose upon the world!

Then late one night a knock came at my door. I was on my bed, spitted between two of the shadow creatures who were ravishing me with abandon. Quickly I dismissed them, they melting away like shadow to sunlight. Expecting my husband come to try and ‘fix’ me, I called glumly, “Enter.”

The door opened and Ashmedai entered. Gasping in delight, a ran over and launched myself at him, wrapping arms and legs about his towering frame. It had been so long, I thought often of him and had been given no news. To see him appear then was like a dream brought to reality. “How did you get in?”

“I have my ways.” He beamed at me, as I regained my feet. “How are you mother?”

I had toyed with various scenarios over and over in my mind, played out the many things I should have said to him, that I would say if I saw him again. But words were lost to me at that moment, unthinking, I launched myself up and locked lips with his. He froze at first, then I felt him relax into me, his hands began exploring. Overjoyed, I drew back and began relieving him of his expensive robes.

I pushed him onto the bed, and fell upon his member, taking it fully into my throat with a greedy desperation brought on by years of solitude. I felt his fingers twine into my hair, guiding my head back and forth as I worked. But I was not willing to stop there, I wanted him to feel the womb that had brought him into the world. I straddled him and guided him into me. I moved my hips back and forth, our eyes locked in passion. At long last I had won him, but it was something beyond lust that drove my body that night. “Marry me.” I breathed.

“Yes.” he gasped, and together we shared in orgasm.

Later, as I lay next to him, I breathed into his ear, “Can you get trusted servants into this complex? I will guide you from here, until the day I can emerge and we can become king and queen. We will be as Tiamat and Kingu, only there will be no annunaki to stop us.”

Ashmedai sighed and sat up, “King you say. King of what? With the rebel army broken my nephilim brethren have started heading their own tribes, treating the mortals as slaves or cattle at worst. The Grigori are either too busy chasing skirts or are too stoic in their mannerisms, including father, the mortals are too feeble, the nephilim and their eliouds too lost in their own self-interests. You say I am to rule, but over what? Why would I want to rule such aimless peoples?”

I knew it was time. Rising with him, I stroked his member and admired myself with my son in the mirror, “It is not they whom you shall rule.”

The mirror turned dark, she appeared, speaking huskily, “Indeed, my children languish in the desire to strive to my vision, but they lack the one to lead them.”

Ashmedai leapt up, drawing his sword, “What in the-”

I hopped up also, placing myself between him and the mirror lest he smash it, “Calm yourself, she is an ally.”

Eyeing the mirror suspiciously, he slowly lowered the sword, “I see, it is you who saved us during the Battle of Enoch, wasn’t it?”

“Smart child, I expected nothing less of you mind.”

He raised his free hand, palm upward, “And you are?”

“A queen, and your grandmother. And this is the kingdom you shall rule.” She stepped aside, the dark shapes fled to reveal the city and its legions upon legions of horrors, “Some of them were once like your father, now they are lost souls, pleading for guidance. But I can only do so much alone. I need another ruler, one who can help guide us to a new age.”

“Why would I lead such sickly creatures?”

“In time, you shan’t” The vision left and mother reappeared, “You said it yourself, the mortals, the nephilim, Grigori, eliouds, my own children, all of them are failures. In the ages to come I shall use your mother and many more like her, all shameless and with fertile wombs. They shall seduce and bring forth a perfected race, and together we shall erect a superior kingdom, a kingdom we shall rule together.”

Ashmedai seemed to absorb this, “A perfect kingdom…” His gaze went far away, perhaps seeing what mother had envisioned. Then he winced and took my hand, “And you mother? Are you aware what that means for you? The things you will have to breed with, the things you will bring forth?”

I rose and kissed him lovingly, “If it means seeing you rise, I will go to any length. Besides,” I stood back and indicated myself, “The change has already begun, the choice already made. If I were stop my harlotry now I would go mad.”

“What is it like?” Mother spoke through the mirror seductively to him, “To be a spark in a legion of empty vessels? I know, for it is the same for me. Join us, Ashmedai, become a king of the Lesser Palaces and lead us to greatness.”

Ashmedai looked at her, then to me.

He gave his answer.

xxxxx

A few nights later a knock came at my door once again. I had been practicing the meditations, I started out of my trance and opened it to find Chedipe. “Old friend.” We embraced, she was as naked as I and I relished the press of her flesh against mine. I looked her up and down. She had changed over the years, her head was shaved, on her forehead was tattooed a phallic symbol surrounded by a halo. Indeed, such tattoos now covered much of her body, “Interesting work.”

“I refused to let them change me, I had plenty of time to do them, locked away as we were.”

Eyeing her I quirked my head, “‘As we were’?”

She took my hand, “We must hurry. Someone made arrangements to allow for our escape, your litter waits outside.”

“Who made the arrangements?” I said, trailing after her.

“He kept himself concealed. He said he was ‘King of the Lesser Palaces’.”

Gratitude for my son flooded me as I exited the house for the first time in years. There my gaolers were slumped, my Besotted bowed as I passed by, black armor clanging. More of them awaited at the litter, along with my most loyal of followers. They all knelt or bowed as I approached. Elation filled me, I had forgotten how good it was to be admired so. At long last my beauty would be beheld by the masses again, no longer shut away by some jealous owner. “Where do we go?” I said as I entered the litter and lounged upon the cushions.

Chedipe joined me, “There are some caves we can take shelter at in the mountains for now. From there, I thought we should become traveling priestesses, a mobile temple if you will. Not staying at one location makes us hard to catch, plus we can spread the word once more beyond Enoch. If you have a presence beyond the city we can re-establish ourselves in no time.”

Servants picked up the litter, “Wait!” They paused, looking at me expectantly, “There’s a mirror and cosmetics in my bedchamber, fetch them.”

 

8. A Messenger

“And they became pregnant, and they bore great giants, whose height was three thousand ells: Who consumed all the acquisitions of men. And when men could no longer sustain them, the giants turned against them and devoured mankind.” — The Book of Enoch

Over the next century we did exactly that. We eluded Azazel’s searching guards and traveled the world, spreading the ways of ecstasy and pleasure. I went from city to city, kingdom to kingdom and danced and entertainment the nobles there. At first it had taken some convincing, Not wishing to gain the ire of my father, but as our popularity grew once more we were welcomed with open arms. Every day I received invitations and gifts from those seeking my company. As our wealth increased so did my comforts. Traveling had been a dismal affair but now we became more akin to a traveling city, hundreds upon hundreds of followers traveled with me. When we stopped, expert craftsmen put up a mobile temple, that could be raised and taken apart as needed. It was huge building that housed as many as the temple in Enoch had. Nearly all the great kingdoms were ruled by nephilim these days, who clung to power via tyranny and cruelty. Eventually my popularity was such that Azazel ceased sending pursuers after me.

Slowly but surely, the idols of our gods were remade in the vision of the Lesser Palaces. What were rumours of our corruption became truth, and none but a small few spoke against us. The gods had forsaken them to become cattle of the nephilim after all, why should they care if their uncaring deities fell? At least we offered them the comfort of our bodies, rather than shallow words and texts. Now the warmth of our bodies and guidance of the ‘Queen of the Lesser Palaces’ was lauded across the land.

I stood watching myself before the mirror, as I often did, after having just catered to a prominent chieftain, earning our traveling temple many riches and some key influence. I had used my copious breasts to finish him and watched, in a trance, as his seed ever so slowly trickled down my chest. To me it was like a piece of art I could not tear my eyes away from, the pearly liquid against my ivory skin, leaving a reflective trail and curving as it took its course around the contours of my bosom. “Such beauty.” I breathed, completely in love with my reflection.

The reflection went dark, but these my reflection remained, with mother appearing behind me. I watched her in the mirror, knowing that to look behind me would dispel the vision of her. Her hands ran down the contours of my body, her red lips leaving soft kisses along my neck. If I focused I experienced waves of pleasure trailing from her fingers, my body shivered in excitement and joy at her embrace. “Cum becomes you.” she breathed like a lover into my ear.

“Yes.” I agreed, her perverse words ever thrilling me, spurring me on in my whoredom. I looked at my face, having just pleasured the chieftain with all the hungry fury of a desperate prostitute my mascara had run and my lipstick was smeared. My beauty was still evident, in fact the mess was its own kind of beauty, still a deep part of me was still somewhat vexed. I took a seat at my dresser and began the lengthy work of redoing my cosmetics. I had the chieftain’s second in command to see next, a Grigori who wanted my visions as guidance to usurp his former friend, if his cock was as huge as I had heard he would surely receive it.

“Daughter,” mother whispered from the mirror, “I have foreseen calamity, and I know you have too.”

“The world will drown.” I noted, cleansing my face to begin over, I left the semen on my tits for the moment, it felt pleasing to leave it there, “Smoting the fires consuming the world. Yes, I have seen it.”

“But not when. The time of the Deluge is soon, daughter.”

Fear jolted me. Unlike mother, my skill with prophecy had not developed enough to gain a sense of exact time. I was about to look to her, seek guidance on how to escape it, when a knock came at the door.”What?” I called irritably.

When Chedipe identified herself I bid her enter. My handmaidens were rather frenzied creatures these days, their explicit rituals and my steady diet of maddening aphrodisiacs driving them into a state of constant arousal. Chedipe glowed with the sheen of her exertions, her wet thighs revealing she was in heat. “I received a message to pass unto thee, holy one.” She paused as she saw my glistening chest, her body shuddering.

Smiling, I pointed to my breasts, “Clean this up would you?”

No further encouragement needed, her tongue reverently traveled my chest, missing not a drop of the ‘holy fluid’. I waited patiently for her to finish, then idly had her work between my legs whilst I completed my cosmetics. No message was more important than the perfection of my image.

When I was happy with the result I had her stand, she did, swaying as though in a daze, “Well, the message?”

“Oh, yes.” She shook her head, her sense of self barely swimming in the ocean of perverse images no doubt filling her skull nowadays, “It was a man who claimed to be from Enoch, he said he served one of the Grigori there who would seek an audience with you once you are back on the road. They begged that you grant this audience for it is of the utmost import.”

Various suspicions went through my mind. Unlike Chedipe, I needed no aphrodisiac and still bore a sound mind. As such various political agendas, conspiracies and possible coups came to mind. “The identity of the Grigori?”

“To be revealed only upon receiving and audience with you.”

“Of course.” It would not do to be rejected by me then blackmailed. But if he met with me I would be included in any such conspiracy. That political savviness alone reduced the number of possible Grigori, but left no definite figure.

Contemplating, I stood and went before the mirror, looking askance to mother. She just smiled, embraced me and slipped her fingers between my thighs. Gasping in orgasm, I decided fretting over the coming apocalypse can wait, “I want us all ready and packed as soon as I am done with my next appointment. Be sure this mysterious Enochian does not announce himself openly, I want it all conducted in secret.”

xxxxx

It was many weeks before the mysterious Grigori decided to present himself. It was on a night when I was in a foul mood.

We had gained enough of a fortune to procure a small fleet, with my flagship being the largest, with them we sailed along the coasts, water bound brothels docking at various port cities where I would be welcomed with great acclaim. Eventually we traveled up a wide river to the mightiest city on earth: Atlantis.

Of course I had heard of it, but no description does it justice. The city was huge, fashioned concentric rings, separated by circles of man-made rivers. The buildings there but those of Enoch to shame, in fact Enoch was a deprived hamlet in contrast. At the center of was the towering palace where the emperor and his subjects resided. It was here the temples to there ancient gods were located also and, so my informants claimed, had a freshly built temple dedicated to holy lust, as demanded by the people with my growing influence. As such I felt it time that I visited the heart of the empire that ruled over much of the known world.

It was also here where Semyaza resided, acting much as Azazel did as advisor to the emperor. I learned he had finally won the hand of his beloved Ishtar, who had born him two sons.

With some shock, I ground my teeth as I listened to the delegation sent by the emperor who forbade me entry into the city. Sensing Semyaza’s manipulations against me, I began sending secret messages for his eyes alone. I started with threats, sending a message saying how he was not so quick to turn me away before, but was met with silence. I tried suggesting a festival in his magnificent city, begging for the chance to dance, dance nothing more, for him and his people, and to delight his beautiful wife, again silence. He saw through me, but I could see through him. He knew that if he saw me in all my splendor his resolve would erode like sugar in rain.

We set up outside of the city and welcomed those who came to visit us, but I was far from satisfied. Besides, time was indeed running out. Mother threatened the Deluge approached, but proved infuriatingly vague with how I am supposed to escape it. It was as I was arguing with her that Chedipe knocked at the door, no doubt worrying that I was arguing with my reflection again and thinking my mind was failing me. She entered, proudly bearing fresh phallic tattoos across her arms, it was impossible to tell where tattoo ended and she began now, “The Enochian Grigori has arrived, holy one.”

I snarled, watching my angry expression in the mirror, noted how wonderful I looked even when angry. Mother gave a look of mock fright, “About time, show him in, make it clear I am displeased.”

Before Chedipe could leave, a cloaked figure strode into the bedroom, “Your displeasure is noted, my doting wife.” Azazel revealed himself, pulling back his hood to spill his long dark hair. He looked past me straight to the mirror, at mother, “Ah, so that is how you got to her, traitor. I did wonder.”

xxxxx

“You call me traitor?” Mother laughed.

I noted Chedipe looking confused, “You are dismissed.” I said tersely. Then put my hands on my hips, flinging my hair back superiority, “What do you want Azazel?”

“He sees it too, he wants to bargain with you, don’t you?” Mother said.

My husband frowned, “I see her but cannot hear her. I would ask a favor of you, Na’amah. Let her take you over again, just briefly, I will dismiss her when done.”

I looked at him stupidly, even my mother went silent with surprise. It was she who finally spoke, “He wants to bargain with me, not you.”

That I was not the center of his attention stung, “I can carry along any message.”

“Some of what I have to say is beyond you.” he replied coldly, “I would speak to her direct. If you refuse say and I’ll leave now.” This was clearly a painful conversation for him.

“Oh daughter, do it, do it, do it! I simply must see how this plays out.”

Tutting, I clutched my hands, “Fine, but be sure she gives my body back when you are done. She was going to make me fuck animals last time you know.” With that I let her drag my consciousness back to that dark place where I could but watch. Azazel helpfully just stood there unconcerned as my body convulsed on the floor, rising only when mother was sure of her control.

Mother used my face to beam at Azazel, “They are coming, you are doomed! Did you really think you would not pay for your crimes? Have you seen what you have done to this world? Famine, pestilence, depravity, cannibalism. You put my home to shame, celestial one.”

“I am no Semyaza, I will not bow and beg forgiveness. It was a thankless and lonely task we were given, to watch beauty such as this and be content with our lot.”

“So what do you want of simple me?”

“Nothing simple about you traitor, seek not to deceive me. I know they shall hunt to the end of time and space, my only hope of protecting my family is in offering myself freely when they come.”

“Ashmedai is not yours.”

Azazel winced, “Not by blood, but by knowledge and experience, he is.” Save him as well as my whore wife here, and you can consider me part of your vile little family.” He then brought out a box and opened it to reveal countless wax-sealed vials, “Your designs are no secret to us, depraved one, I have here a collection of samples from Grigori, nephilim, eliouds and more in the cart with my retinue. Ask not how I got them, agree to this and they are all yours.”

I felt my body gain a thirst like I had never known. Salivating, I watched my hand reach out, unstopper a freezing vial and down the contents, allowing the fluid to coat my tongue. The taste was like a drop of water in the desert, the best thing I could ever hope for. I could tell mother was using my taste buds to also analyze the authenticity and quality of the ‘language of the flesh’ as she called it. The better the seed, the more promising the abominations she would spawn through my or future succubi wombs. “Magnificent. Welcome to the family, step-son.”

 

9. End of Exile

“Naamah put on her enticements and seduced her brother Tubal-Cain to lie with her. Likewise she used her allurements to arouse the lust of Lamech, and when she had coupled with her father and received his seed upon the seed of her brother, she put on wings of darkness and flew away laughing in the wickedness of her heart.” — Liber Lilith

“I was always going to save you daughter. The future has many pathways, the safest one for you meaning the end of your son.” Mother sighed, her fingers exploring me again, “But a deal is a deal, you will be surprised how honest us monsters are in the Lesser Palaces, much more so than those of the celestial spheres.”

“I know you are mother. So tell me the future I must follow?” I asked as I anointed myself in scented oils, preparing for my next meeting with a nephilim named Og, by all accounts a simple minded ruler that was going to thresh me half to death. He also requested a divination of me which I would give him as pillow-talk. More and more of those I had taught had begun to sense the coming calamity, and a sense of panic was starting to fill the air wherever we went. Even simple-minded Og sensed it, and sought a way to avoid it.

“My daughter, you are my pride and joy. Your training is nigh complete, there remains but one task left to complete the change.”

I scowled over at her, “The change?” I could turn fully to shadow now, and travel great distances. I could fly through the air on a whimsy. I could gain and guide pathways of the future with such ease it was painful to watch them play out. Certainly I was a powerful witch, second only to mother.

“Yes dear.” she said, “You will escape the Deluge by coming home, here, to the Lesser Palaces.”

I blinked, I had always known that would be my fate. Eventually I would be taken there, to fuck and breed more children in the effort to bring about better creations, but now it was almost time a sense of nervousness percolated my being, “And my son?”

“Welcome also. He is to be a king here after all. You shall bear the title Princess of the Lesser Palaces, wed your son and travel the realities gaining seed for our cause. You shall open your legs to all sorts of weird and wonderful entities, does it not excite you? We shall even work together on occasion.”

It did excite me, and terrify me. But for the sake of my son: anything. “What must I do?”

xxxxx

The change upon Enoch struck me as I and my followers approached. It seemed in joining our little family Azazel had succumbed to the influence of the Lesser Palaces also. I watched in fascination as goats were sacrificed in his name beneath statues bearing his likeness. And they say I am vain! At least when I raise statues of mother and bejeweled phalluses I give them their place over me as their ‘mere’ representative and recipient.

It was announced that I had been granted a pardon, with great ceremony the city gates were opened to permit me access. I entered, carried on an opulent litter gifted me by father in a parade filled with dancers, musicians and various other performers on a road littered with flower petals. The crowds welcomed back their princess with raucous cheers. I waved to my people, bathing in their adulation. I was taken to my old temple for the first time in over a century to find it reopened and more splendid than ever. Droves of worshipers crowded outside, where as the high priestess once more they awaited my speech.

Later during the feast I learned Jabal and Jubal had left Enoch to join their mother in exile. She had tried to take full blame for the assassination attempt upon me, but all knew they were involved. Father seemed the better for it, an arm wrapped around Zillah and laughing at one of her jokes. She gave me a stony look as she refilled his goblet. I had cornered her earlier and explained what I needed. Always she had been supportive of me, but this had been a stretch even for her. I had reunited with my brother earlier, could feel his semen within me, but it was not enough for my mother, nothing ever is.

So drunk he was barely able to stand, Zillah ahd one of father’s closest friends guide him to his bedchamber. When gone Zillah came up to me and stroked my arm, “I always knew you would echo through the ages daughter, and I knew the cost would be high. Go, do what you must for the goddess.”

I felt my true mother twitch in my head, strangely seemed to care little for the title of goddess. I knew not why, personally I thought the title would go well with myself. I excused my self from the crowd and retreated to an empty hallway, quiet save for the sputtering torches. Then I willed myself from existence, and flicked over space as fast as darkness chased by light. Neither door nor wall could stop me, least of all vigilant guards, to whom I was but a trick of the shadows. When I was corporeal once more, I was in father’s room, where he lay on his bed in drunken slumber. As always, the incessant demands of my vulva pushed me on.

I carefully made my way to his bedside, sat beside him, and traced my fingers down his powerful, scarred torso. I looked at his features and noted how lines had appeared there, grey streaks now in his hair. Age was creeping unto him, and I gave thanks that time’s clasping talons would be pried from me. Only as they curled around his impressive manhood did he stir with a groan. Blearily he regarded me, “Na’amah?”

I smiled, “Father.”, then lowered myself and curled my tongue about his shaft. He put up a feeble resistance, but with my lips about him and the excuse of alcohol running through his veins, he soon let go. I began to ride him, but that was not father’s style. He spun over to be on top of me, his hips pummeling down as a hammer to anvil. I gasped in passionate ecstasy as he filled me, his large hands crushing my breasts. I moaned aloud in joy as he released, his seed mixing with my brother’s. Spent, he fell beside me, and drifted into deep slumber. Pleased, I rose and, like a wine fueled dream I was gone, never was.

I reformed into being in my private room, where mother awaited me, “Now you are remade, daughter.”

“Yes,” I agreed, seeing myself as something beyond human now, something both divine and infernal.

xxxxx

With the deed done, I made ready to leave Enoch. I did not see father after that night, but informants from Zillah suggested he was very silent during his hangover the next day. I myself was beyond such things as shame now, and idly wondered if I could convince him and my brother to spit me. I decided it was unlikely.

I had grown an appetite for travel now and held no desire to remain in one place for so long. There was but one final bit of business to attend to, one I had looked forward to above all others.

Stomach full of butterflies, I waited as my handmaidens fastened a silk garter around one thigh, tied gems into my hair and touched up my cosmetics, then, standing in as the one giving me away, Chedipe took my arm and led me out into the gardens. I took in the scenery with surprise, the servants had outdone themselves. A path of marble led through lush gardens up to a waterfall that tumbled down into a pool. There Ashmedai waited with a small contingent of only our most trusted friends, he was dazzling in fine silver and black trim.

Of course for one such as I there was no escaping the touch of depravity there, besides that of marrying my son. Freshly harvested that day, my priestess walked ceremoniously up to the pool and tipped bowls of semen into it whilst singing blasphemous verses. Out of that polluted water, mother took form, smiling at us both. The priestesses about us fell down in supplication at the arrival of this naked beauty, in awe of her unearthly grace. As always I was just as spellbound by her exhilarating presence.

She spoke with an imperious tone born of experience, “As Queen of the Lesser Palaces I find your marriage to the Grigori Azazel in direct contradiction to the laws set about by those of the higher spheres. As such it is with regret that I must announce your marriage null and void.” She flicked back her red mane and spoke again, “Both the nephilim and eliouds are unprecedented and, as such, cannot be considered bound to those same laws. As such, it is my greatest and honor and pleasure to unite you both this glorious night.” With that she took my hand and Ashmedai’s, her aphrodisiac touch affecting both of us, and bound our hands together, “With the authority bestowed upon me as queen, the Lesser Palaces hereby recognize you as man and wife.”

To applause, we kissed. It was a modest wedding, particularly if compared to the one I had with Azazel, but that moment is more special to me than any other.

Frightful exhalations filled the garden, I looked to the cowering priestesses and followed their gazes upwards. Just like many centuries before, the stars were falling once again. The night sky lit up with each trailing body. I looked askance to my mother, who met my gaze calmly, “The end begins.”

 

10. The Deluge

“In the six hundredth year of Noah’s life, on the seventeenth day of the second month—on that day all the springs of the great deep burst forth, and the floodgates of the heavens were opened. And rain fell on the earth forty days and forty nights.” — Genesis 7:11

“It is fitting that I retire from this sphere of reality.” I said to mother the third morning since the wedding, she had sank back into the pool that night and now regarded me from the mirror once again. I still glowed from the nights of passion with Ashmedai. “My womb has known the seed of the mightiest Grigori, kings, nephilim, even my own relatives, not mention the various beasts you lured unto me. None can resist me, it is time I plied myself to new worlds. My only question is, ‘When?'”

Mother was about to answer when a fast rapping came at the door. I barely finished calling for her to enter when Chedipe threw the door open. “They are here,” she panted, “More Grigori. Your father requests your presence at court.” Seeing mother in the mirror, her presence no longer secret, Chedipe threw herself to the floor, “Goddess, command me.”

“Stop calling me that.” she sighed.

“I haven’t been summoned to court for centuries, must be serious indeed.” I noted offhandedly.

“Heralds of the end times dear. Go and bear witness to this, then we shall begin seeing to your relocation, my children hunger for you and your followers.”

“You hear that Chedipe?” I said, knowing full well she could not, “We’re going to wait out the apocalypse being gang-raped by monsters. I wonder who the lucky ones are, the poor fools here or us deranged sluts.”

“You want it and you know it daughter.” mother chided. She was not wrong, my loins quivered wonderfully in frightful anticipation of entering her realm and giving myself to those eldritch things.

Chedipe simply gave me a confused look, I waved her away, “Get the litter ready.”

xxxxx

The courtroom looked the same as I remembered it, having spent much of his time on campaign my father had rarely been present there, leaving the everyday tasks to Adah or her sons. With their exile that position was filled by Zillah and, grudgingly, my brother. But he was there this day, the visitors there demanded no one less. He was upon his raised throne of ebony, the Banner of Nod raised above him. On a lower throne to his left was Zillah. I joined my brother to one side, basking in the eyes upon me. “Took your time sister,” he whispered, “Father was growing impatient.”

I shrugged, “I had to ensure I was presentable.”

Lamech called out, “Bring in the delegation.”

The far doors opened, and many gasped as new Grigori entered, only this time they were bedecked in ethereal armor wore strange looking instruments that could be construed as weapons. They were every bit as beautiful as their already present brethren, but their countenance grim. One snow-haired Grigori stepped forward, “I am Raphael of the Third Sphere, where is Azazel and his troupe?”

“We are here, brother.” Azazel announced, his fellow Grigori behind him, dressed in stately robes, “What brings you here?”

Raphael glowered at him, “You are found guilty of corrupting the project of this sphere. I bear written authority from the Dominion to bring the full might of this principality against you and your brothers to mete out your punishment. Do you plead innocence?”

Azazel boomed with laughter, “Innocence? No, but I shan’t plead forgiveness like Senyaza either.” He then pointed at me, “Look at her, naked and shameless! Do not tell me she does not stir you brother, I know the truth. We watched them, how could we be expected to resist? The authority of the Second Sphere is flawed, and I spit upon their laws.” His fellow brethren roared their support.

“Calm yourselves,” Lamech began, uncertainly, “I am sure we can-”

“Silence mortal, this does not concern you, you all know too much too early.” Raphael glared at me, for a titillating moment I thought I did sense desire there, but if so it was gone as fast as it came. He rounded on Azazel, “Look about you brother, this is what your lack of restraint has wrought. The people here starve, your children rule with cruelty and greed, they have used your knowledge purely for lust and violence. It has been decided that this sphere is irrevocably tainted, and must begin anew.”

Azazel bit his lip, “And of us?”

“To be bound to the rocks found in the depths of Dudael, until the day you fall into the pit.”

Shamdon, beside Azazel hissed and drew his blade, “I will kill you all first before suffering such indignity!”

Raphael nodded to the men behind him, one raised his hand, presented a metallic object. With a click it filled the room with a blinding light, startling us all. When it dimmed, they were gone, Raphael, Azazel, Shamdon, all of the Grigori. I looked over to Ashmedai with consternation, knowing they had seized Azazel and his followers in that fraction of a second. I turned to Chedipe, gather my handmaidens and make your way to my private quarters. Now!”

“What does this mean?” Tubal-Cain breathed.

I knew what it meant. I kissed him, “It means this is farewell brother. I shall miss you.” I heard him exclaim aloud as I became shadow and flitted away.

I reappeared just outside the temple, just in time to see an enormous, fiery object plummet on the horizon. Moments later, earth trembled from the impact, something dark rose impossibly high. I knew it to be the ocean, come to cleanse the land that it may begin anew, just as Raphael had declared.

I could hear the screams of the populace as the world shook. Were it not for my newfound abilities I would have struggled to keep my feet as I made my way to the mirror. She was waiting for me there, “I’m guessing now would be a good time to take us?”

Mother nodded, “Gather those you consider worthy. Where is my grandson?”

“On his way.” I called two panicking servants, calmed them and had them carefully carry the mirror to the gardens. The trembling died somewhat, but a distant roaring sound could be heard, a sound that would become deafening all too soon.

Ashmedai and his closest companions arrived in their armor, close behind them was Chedipe and my most loyal maidens. “This is the end.” Ashmedai said with such calm I felt myself swell with pride.

“The beginning,” I took his hand, then called to the few of us gathered there, “We are going to go through the mirror, it is a doorway. Do not rush it! One at a time. If it breaks we are doomed. Chedipe, you first.”

As my maidens got in line, the reflection darkened, mother was there, “My revered harlots, from this day forth you shall be my Lilitu, from you shall spring forth such wonders! Behold, your new home.” She stepped aside and revealed the city I had seen so many times before, and its denizens awaiting us with a variety of awaiting limbs.

Chedipe’s eyes widened, “Gods, we have to give ourselves to those things?”

I sensed the fear and hesitation creeping into them, normally I would have been more understanding, but there was no time for such things now. I grabbed Chedipe by the arm and yanked her close, “This is what we are now.” I hissed, “Constant agonising sensation or no sensation. Make your choice sister.”

Cautiously, she pushed a hand and watched with amazement as it passed through the pain, then she slowly went through. No sooner had she done so than she was taken away by mother’s children. Exhilaration gripped me in the knowledge that it would soon be my turn. “Next!” One by one my maidens went through, accepting their new world. They were followed by my son’s guard, here were more respectfully led to their quarters by an emaciated looking thing. Eventually it was just me and Ashmedai left. The roaring grew louder.

My hand still in his, he looked up at the starry sky, “So, this is the last time I shall see this world.”

“We will return, one day we shall claim it as our own.”

“But it will be different, Enoch will be gone, Atlantis, Lemuria, it might as well be a completely different world.” He sighed.

“But I shall still be here.” I squeezed his hand.

He smiled at me, “Shall we?”

As I had to my bed, I led him into the mirror. To my surprise, the creatures there did not seize me at once. Mother embraced and kissed me passionately, “Welcome home daughter, grandson! I cannot tell you how it pleases me to bring you here. Before I show you to your palace, Ashmedai your highness, and you begin your duties as Lilitu daughter, shall we bid farewell to the old world?”

Together we stared into the mirror, watching the perfectly maintained gardens. It trembled, the surrounding architecture began to crack and topple, then there was a brief rush of water before the pane shattered before us. So ended the antediluvian world.

“Well.” mother clapped her hands, “That was that.” She then brought forth twisted looking dignitaries with a guttural language. “They shall take you to the palace your highness, feel free to request us whenever you wish. Indeed, there is the coronation to look forward to.”

Ashmedai looked over to me uncertainly, I smiled at him, “Go ahead my love, we shall be together later.” Nodding, the new king followed his new subjects to a distant towering building. When out of sight I faced the hissing, gibbering crowd around me. That mix of terror and yearning I had grown so addicted to filled me, I wanted to flee and I wanted to run my tongue across their members. I wanted to beg mercy and I wanted to feel their phallus’ between my breasts. I wanted to scream and I wanted to feel stuffing each of my holes. I could see a few of my sisters among them, already well at work, I wondered if they cursed me or praised me for their fate. Probably both.

Mother laced her fingers with mine, “Shall we dear?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

Hand in hand, we gave ourselves to the throng.

 

Epilogue: Whispers in the Dark

“And as to Naamah, she is alive to this day, and her dwelling is among the waves of the Great Sea.” — Zohar

Although I end it here that is not the end of my story, of course. The world was flooded, the nephilim wiped out and the Grigori imprisoned, the land of Nod and the Altantean empire pushed from history to mythology by that great cataclysm.

Some of the nephilim would survive, as would humanity. Unbeknownst to me until much later, I would learn of a single, magnificent vessel that bore the vestiges of humanity and samples of its flora and fauna throughout the deluge, until the waters finally receded. Brought about by the vision of a simple wine maker, it is from these people the world began anew and would populate the earth with a more controllable and much diminished people. Some of the nephilim would survive the flood too, King Og earned passage on this vessel and would rule a kingdom until his death, others would dwell as a roving band of barbarians until they were finally put down.

My sisters would change to become like me, the first of the Lilitu, or succubi as you term us now. Chedipe sometimes roams the wilds of India to this day. Mine is an existence of endless fornication now, when not dallying with my subjects and children or enjoying the passionate embrace of my husband, mother sends me forth through the spheres, to attain seed and see what manner of beings my womb brings forth. Sometimes I am sent hunting in your world, where you ape-like males are given the honor of witnessing my beauty and feeling my caresses. For those who agitate me I gift them nightmare also, and those who show promise I gift with whispers.

I have spawned many horrors that lurk in the shadows, preying upon you lesser creatures to spite the higher plains, but none are as yet what my mother has seen in her vision. But seen it she has and, be it in a short few years or a millennia, the time will come when we shall march upon your world to raise up our kingdom of nightmare, and just as the celestial ones wiped out my family and people, so shall we do to you.

Or perhaps you can throw your lot in with us, as I and my son had done. We can never have enough wombs or seed for us to experiment with. Who knows, if you intrigue me enough I might just gift you with whispers this night …

THE END