The Taking of Lilith
Watching her lying astonished on the ground of the old train yard, rubbing her jaw and wiping the blood from her mouth, was satisfying to his very core. He had fantasized of this moment, for so, so very long. He was tempted to just roll her over and fuck her right there, but it wasn’t yet time. There were things he needed to teach her first.
“Not any more, dear Lilith. I’ve been released from my promise. Your ass is mine now, as it were.”
Lucifer reached down and snatched her up by the hair of her head, laughing as she cried out to God. He yanked hard until he got her chin to chin, her head twisted painfully back and slightly to one side. She had to look down toward her lips to see his face.
“Told ya’. He’s not going to come… but I am.” This amused him greatly. “If you’re lucky, I might allow you to, as well.” She was fighting hard to control her fear and had masked it well with defiance, but she hadn’t been quite quick enough. He could taste it on her close breath and he hadn’t missed the abject terror that had flashed ever so quickly across her face and through her eyes.
“Yes Lilith, you’re afraid. And you have very good reason to be.” He whispered softly into her face, speaking slowly, deliberately, malice dripping from his voice like sacrificial blood. She winced deliciously as he knotted his hand ever tighter into the hair at the back of her head.
She opened her mouth to say something rebellious, but he cut her off by yanking her head backwards hard and to the left, giving himself plenty of swinging room for the right hand he laid savagely across her face leaving an angry crimson print.
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Lilith stumbled and lost her balance, unable to get her legs under her to support her weight. As she dangled from his outstretched fist, he brought a second blow to emphasize his demand for silence. The war against fear was not going well within Lilith, and he watched intently from his position of Dominance as it raged across the battlefield of her face.
“You can save yourself a lot of pain by conceding now, Lilith. There is no hope for you, and there is no dishonor in acquiescence to the inevitable.” He genuinely hoped she would not be defeated so easily. Rebecca had disappointed him that way, and it did not go well for her after he took what he wanted. He idly wondered how she was fairing, encapsulated as she was in ice, only her pleasure holes accessible and available to the guardian giants. For a moment, moved perhaps by pity, perhaps by malice, probably by both, he considered allowing Rebecca the freedom to scream in pain, but put the idea aside, choosing instead to attend to his current, more gratifying endeavor.
“I will not, Demon.”
Oh how lovely! Just the words he wanted to hear. He struck her again, hard enough to separate Lilith from his fistful of flaming auburn hair, and she tumbled haphazardly across the ground, landing between the rails of an old track.
“My name is Lucifer. My name is Master. Say it, Lilith. Get up on your knees, and call me Master. Tell me you’ll burn my mark into your own flesh.”
Lilith still lay on her back between the train rails, one arm outstretched and one limp across her body, both feet tangled beneath her. He watched her eyes swim, lost, seeking to focus and failing.
“Fuck you,” she groaned. She tried but failed to raise her head from the ground.
“All in good time, my dear,” he chuckled. “But first, you have to beg. You will beg me to defile you utterly. You will beg me, Lilith. You will beg me before I fuck you.”
Her effort to recover was a play writ large in her eyes and performed on the stage of her face. She was straining and floundering her way back toward coherence and lucidity. “I will not beg.” It was more a croak than anything. She was struggling to control the wetness building in her lashes.
“So said Jezebel before you, Lilith.” She had begun to struggle to her feet. He grabbed the cross from between her pretty little tits, twisting the necklace into a tight noose, choking her from behind. He drug her all the way to her feet and pulled her close into him, forced her to grind her ass up and down on his demonic pride while she clawed at her own throat. She was fighting desperately for air. When her skin began to take on a bluish tinge, he tore the talisman from her completely, spinning her around in the process. He waited just a moment for her to catch a little breath as she staggered before him, then laid her out viciously again on her back. “And she awaits your arrival in my bed as we speak. Surely you don’t expect to stand where such a Queen as she has faltered?”
It was several minutes before Lilith could speak, and Lucifer silently and patiently towered above her bent and retching body.
“Jez? You could not ever…”
“Oh how wrong you are, little one. I could, and I did.” He knew that Lilith had always been fond of Jezebel, respected her strength, admired her. He suspected that Lilith loved her deeply. While the Queen was alive, the two had shared a bed often. He had always enjoyed listening in on their lovemaking, and was certain they were aware of their shadowy voyeur. It was somewhat sad that this little pleasure was exactly as mortal as Queen Jezebel.
Lilith had mourned ruefully and publicly at her death, and was not her usual feisty self for many years. For a while, his interest in her had wavered and he wondered if she would ever recover. The first drop escaped her left eye, and she cursed herself aloud.
It was the perfect play, and despair was briefly written on Lilith’s face. Oh yes, this move was a winning one. “I know the taste of her inner flesh as well as you, little one. And pretty soon you will know the taste of mine as well as she does.”
“Release her.” Lilith was beginning to become defiant again, and the contest of cat and mouse, give and take, was in full swing. He reveled in the sport of it. She would fight to the last, but the match was already decided. She would capitulate, and he would take the spoils as champion.
He laughed from his belly, just for effect. “Wouldn’t dream of it, little one. She serves too well.”
Lilith, still reeling, managed to struggle into a sitting position, obviously careful never to be on her knees in the process. He stood watching as she pulled her shoes from her feet and pushed herself onto an abandoned train rail behind her. Her jaw was spasming as she clenched her teeth bravely. He found her alluring in her defiance, and his blood ran hotter.
He stepped toward her, unzipping the fly of his tailored pinstriped trousers. Languidly, she threw one shoe in his direction, though it landed impotently, well short of his black patent leather shoes. She was lucky. Uncharacteristically, he’d just polished them by hand, his very own self, that morning. He’d have been pissed had she ruined the shine and wasted all that painstaking effort.
She sucked the blood from her lip and spit it out onto the ground. Jesus, that was sexy. His deliberately dismissive snicker earned a second shoe, and though he’d closed the gap between them enough that this one had enough distance to reach him, it sailed well wide. Her desperation further hardened him.
Head slightly bowed, she was staring up through eyelashes and disheveled hair at him. He was within a step of her now, and she was studiously ignoring what he proffered in his right hand. “If you so much as think about biting me,” he spit through his teeth, “Jezebel will join Rebecca, a Popsicle plaything in Judecca.”
The recalcitrant nymph tightened her lips and refused him entry, hate smoldering in her eyes that she didn’t bother to hide.
A squeal of pain escaped her when he seized a clutch of hair, pulling her head toward him. “Take it, bitch. Take it for Jezebel.” After a moment, she parted reluctantly, and he pushed deep into her throat. “For Jezebel,” he could almost hear her whispering in her mind. “Only for Jez.”
He filled her, gagged her, but would not back out. She tried to pull her head away, but he pulled her in tightly with both hands full of hair. She pushed at his thighs, he refused to relent. She beat at him, he pushed deeper. She began to claw frantically at his legs as he choked and gagged her and she tried futilely to scream.
Once he felt he had made his point, he belted her unceremoniously across the unkempt train yard. She landed in a heap several yards away, and after a few moments struggled to curl herself into the fetal position. Her eyes were half-closed now, her breath coming in audible heaves and sputters. Her eyes were leaking copious tears, and her gasps for life-giving air slowly changed to moans and sobs. The more she regained her wind, the more uncontrollable her weeping became.
“Do not ever damage my clothes again, whore.” He ran his finger along each of the rips she had made with her meticulously tended fingernails.
She had rolled onto her back, the easier to breathe, by the time he reached her. She lay still, collecting herself somewhat, but with the telling signs of defeat and despondence still flowing in two gleaming currents of tears. One word only escaped weakly from her trembling lips.
“Please what, Lilith? Please stop? Please ease the pain? I can do that if you wish. You only need ask, little one.”
She nodded slowly, pitifully.
“Please fuck you? Would you like that, Lilith? Would you like me to stop beating you and fuck you senseless instead?”
Lilith finally gave in fully to the flood of sorrow and misery. Her will and her defiance collapsed before him, and she bawled without restraint. She wailed. She shook. She used the back of her hand to wipe at the tears and the snot and the blood and the spit. She moaned. She called out to God, and she called out to Jez.
Lucifer bent down and wiped her face with his kerchief, then held it to her nose. She gazed miserably into his eyes for a moment, then compliantly blew.
“I want to hear the words, Lilith,” he said softly. He waited.
And she nodded again.
“Please fuck me.”
“You mean, ‘Please fuck me, Master,’ don’t you Lilith?”
“Yes. Please fuck me… Master.”
“Why yes, I think I will, Lilith.” He taunted her only a little, gently mocked her with his tone, as though she had just suggested he enjoy some lovely popcorn. “Thank you so much for asking. But why don’t we straighten you up and go someplace a little more comfortable?”
He half stood and extended his hand to her, helping her up like a perfect gentleman, steadying her until her knees could support her. Once she gained her balance, he brought her close and brushed his hand across her face, one side and then the other. The pain he had so violently inflicted on her faded almost to nothing in an instant, leaving only an echo to remind her of this first lesson in obedience.
“I can be a kind and very generous Master, Lilith. Or I can be a thousand times more cruel than I just have to you. It’s really your choice.” He reached into his pocket, pulling from it a large bejeweled necklace that he laid over her bowed head to replace the one he’d broken.
Lucifer was no fool, and held no illusions that this was the end of the game. Lilith had resigned herself to her fate for the time being, but he knew that she despised him, that she dreaded allowing him to soil her flesh. She was not defeated utterly. Inside the deepest recesses of Lilith, she was not completely broken. Not even close.
He placed her hand in the crook of his arm and led her toward an old abandoned train car he had ready for the purpose. The thought of the greater task ahead tantalized him, but it was time for a brief intermission in her subjugation, a time for assessing the spoils of war, and he lifted her by the waist up onto the first stair of the train. He’d fuck her brains out for a few hours, fill her every hole and bathe her in his cum, and then let her rest in relative comfort for the night. Tomorrow would be another day. From behind and below her, he tore the dress from her back as she climbed the stairs.
As she half-nakedly mounted the top one and turned into the car, he caught just a flash. It was just an instant of an impression, but he was positive he had seen it. With her back to him, where she thought he could not have seen, Lilith had smiled.
From whence came the art:
The images in this post, from top to bottom, are titled 222, Devil, DSC_0394_1, and DSC_0507_2, by Zinin Alexei and are licensed by the artist under the Creative Commons Licenses found at the links (or you can click the images). The final image is titled Lilith…, by Alessandro Rinaldi and is Copyright © 2004-2008, used with permission.