Tempted (2 page)

Uvall stood in the grand white hall as the
fifty impatient nobles and the hundred and fifty Legatus, the
leaders of each legion of Hell, filed in. Xonil appeared at his
side, neatly attired, his hair looking a lot tidier than its usual
wild tangle. He smiled at the thought of Xonil dragging a comb
through his matted locks. It must have been a painful process.

Finally, after waiting an age, his Lord
graced them with his presence.

Bael entered with long strides across the
red and white checkered floor. His flaming whips coiled wildly
about his ankles, snapping at anything he considered too close to
his royal presence. His stunningly beautiful blonde handmaiden,
Evita, followed meekly behind. Her eyes were downcast in respect,
her sleek female form sheathed from her bosom to to her ankles in a
black silk gown, emblazoned with the emblem of Bael on the center
of her breast. Bael's long black robe swirled around his body like
a storm cloud. He dismissed every face he passed, with a look of
contempt and superiority in his bright red gaze.

Uvall sighed to himself with annoyance.

He loved to make a grand entrance like this.
All eyes had to be upon him and in awe of the magnificence of his
every move. And he always brought his woman with him. His beautiful
trophy of power. Taunting the brethren with something they could
never possess. It was, dare he think it, very thoughtless, immature
and tiresome behavior for a Lord of his age and stature. But then
again, he was the devil, pleasantries weren't in his nature.
Taunting them was.

Bael sat upon the white throne of Infamy and
settled himself comfortably, running his hand through his long red
curls. His handmaiden, the highly prized succubus, who attended to
his every need, sat demurely at his naked feet, stroking his instep
fondly with a pointed red talon. Bael lay his hand on Evita's head
affectionately.

Bael nodded to Lucifer, seated on the throne
to his left, and Mammon to his right. The two Princes of Darkness
returned his majestic greeting graciously.

Uvall stared covetously at
Evita, daydreaming of the exquisite pleasures of her flesh. His
mouth watered with a rush of desire. He imagined his hands gripping
those large mounds of her breasts, the feel of her around his cock.
He wondered how she'd taste as his long tongue thrust inside her
cunt, making her squirm and writhe in tortured pleasure. His
manhood stirred fast. How he'd love to take her
―
to take her hard
―
to make her scream his name in the
heights of painful ecstasy. She'd never forget the experience of
being fucked by him. His eyes flared and his lip twitched with the
beginnings of a wicked grin, which he swallowed hastily.

She raised her eyes, sensing his rampant
attention. His burning blue gaze locked onto her black pools, as he
filled her mind with his desires. She stared for a moment, and then
smiled enthusiastically. He already knew she wanted him. All women
wanted him. He clasped his hands together, in front of himself to
obscure the clear evidence of his deepening arousal. It wasn't the
first time he'd told her mentally what he wanted to do to her, and
he was sure it wouldn't be the last.

Bael became aware that the stroking
fingernail had stopped and her focus had moved from him. He gave
her hair a sharp tug, causing her to wince in pain, silently. He
felt a moment of pleasure at his minor triumph over Bael, then a
little guilt that Evita had to suffer for it, but it all passed out
of his demonic head very quickly.

He clenched his fists taking control of his
deeply primal urge to fuck her. He'd never have her. This perfect
beauty before him. It would be the end of him. To touch but a hair
on the head of a Lord's succubus was sacrilege. It was high
treason. He would be fed to the souls, agonizingly slowly. Taken
apart, piece by piece.

He closed himself off and rose above the
desires of the flesh. Now was not the time for such pointless
distractions anyway. Greater things, much greater things, were now
on the near horizon.

Bael cleared his throat and sat silently.
Another of his dramatic touches of address. He liked to keep them
waiting. When the air of expectancy finally reached a level of
fever pitch, he began.

“
The world is ready for us, my
dear brethren. The scales of justice have been tipped in our favor.
We are at the point of our rising...” Lord Bael's voice was silky
soft as it traveled around the halls, caressing them gently and
intimately. He paused for effect as they digested the
news.

A whispering broke out among those
gathered.

“
Silence
!” he bellowed, cracking his whip
suddenly, with a blast of anger at the interruption. Uvall's ears
reeled with the intensity of it. “As I said,” he continued in a
strong tone, “we are at the point of our rising
―
the lost souls now outnumber the
saved, by two whole percent. Mankind has set himself on a spiral of
self destruction and it is our task to ensure he continues. His
corruption could be our triumph with very little effort.” He
stopped to gaze around the hall, focusing on each of the six dukes
intensely.

The silence stretched between them,
interminably, until he resumed.

“
But of course, as always, we
have to consider our adversary. The Seraph will be having similar
discourse, no doubt, and they will have their own plans to redress
the decline of mortality. But we have our vast legions and speed at
our disposal. It is important we act quickly to remove them from
the surface of the earth. We shall set forth in one full turn of
the day. All six of the cavern leaders must take their place on the
continents. Uvall, you may manage this first phase as you see fit.
As my commander in chief, I have complete faith in your
judgment.”

Uvall bowed his head respectfully at Bael,
on receiving this unhallowed compliment.

“
Thank you, my Lord. I will
relish the task.”

“
I'm sure you will, and I thank
the higher God for providing you with your skill and
insight.”

The hall erupted with a nervous tittering of
laughter.

“
Q
uiet.
..!” he bellowed again, his face thundering, and
his red eyes darkened like a stormy night. “This is no laughing
matter. This is a serious day. A day we have awaited, for
millennia. This is beginning of enlightenment.” He gazed around the
unhallowed hall, slowly. “Now bow your heads, and pledge your vows
to me... Uvall..” he nodded at him, indicating he should
begin.

The hall fell silent as the brethren put
their hands together and pointed them outwards, in the gesture of
pledge to their lord and master.

Uvall led their chant of
allegiance
.

“
I shall cut down all who oppose
my Lord's fiery sword.”

All who oppose my Lord's fiery sword

“
I will take no prisoners for my
Lord's sake.”

No prisoners for my Lord's sake.

“
I pledge my life and body in my
Lord's honor.”

My life and body in my Lord's honor.

Amet, my dark Lord Bael.”

Amet, my dark Lord Bael.

Uvall watched the self satisfied look
arising on Bael's fine features at his requested idolatry. His
mouth finally broke into a wide smile.

“
You may go, and quickly.” Lord
Bael dismissed them with a flick of his hand, and they all scurried
away, like rats scattering hither and thither. Uvall took his
leave, as Xonil preceded him from the hall, but was stopped in his
tracks by his master's voice.

“
Uvall,” Bael gestured with a
beckoning finger, for him to come forth.

“
Yes, my Lord?”

“
I expect a fast and clean
sweep. How do you intend to achieve it?”

“
Never you mind. It will be
done,” Uvall replied, shortly.

Bael chuckled loudly at his insolence. It
had to be said, Bael had a good sense of humor when he was in the
mood.

“
Ah, such secrecy, I see,” he
chortled further, “you can entrust me with the detail on your
victorious return. And Uvall, my fine friend, there will be great
reward for you on that day. A chair at my side and a handmaiden. I
have seen you
looking
at my Evita.” He gripped her by the hair and dragged her up
to his level. She yelped with pain and her lip trembled with fear.
But Bael released her, planting a kiss on her cheek, possessively.
His message was plain. That being;
she's mine, don't look at her like that
again
. “You
may have one of the greatest beauties, for your own pleasure. She
will accompany you on your earthly visits, after enlightenment has
been achieved.”

“
My Lord is
most
generous,” Uvall brushed away the
reprimand over Evita instantly. He was thrilled inside, more than
pleased with his potential and very unexpected bonus. Not so much
the honor of a chair at the side of Bael, as his Dark Prince, but
more the prospect of possessing a succubus handmaiden of his own.
It was a very great honor to possess such a chattel. An honor
limited to the most senior of positions. The Lord and his Princes
of Darkness only. There were no other women in Hell but for the
three succubi. Hell was very much a male domain. That was all down
to Satan's rule in the long distant past. He would not tolerate
women in Hell at all. Satan considered they were unreliable and
only useful for fuel in his fires. The fact Bael had introduced the
Succubi was a giant stride forward in sexual equality in
Hell.

A succubus was created from a human woman.
She had to be a woman of the purest beauty and virtue. And she had
to come willingly to her task - to enter the depths of Hell of her
own free will and choosing. Her future, immortal beauty, and a
position of high consort was guaranteed, almost for eternity, or
for as long as her Lord existed. But of course, the price she would
pay was living underground, in this oppressive and darkened world,
and slavery to the devil's desires. As a consequence, such women
were not to be found in great supply.

His mouth watered at the thought of the
wealth of enjoyment with her and the riches that lay ahead.

“
I can afford to be generous, I
will soon be master of the realities.” Bael smiled, his nostrils
flaring with excitement.

A look of understanding passed between
them.

The understanding was, that they would not
be forcibly tethered underground in the future, with such limited
resources as they currently had at their disposal. The earth's
riches would be theirs to enjoy openly and fully. Within the
confines of their immortality, of course.

A demon could spend only limited time in the
realities. His power diminished rapidly over the days. Three days
was maximum exposure before a long length of recuperation was
needed. If a demon stayed on the earth's surface for too long, he
would start to revert to human form and become a mortal being. The
temptation had crossed Uvall's mind often enough, when he was weary
of his existence, but what held him back from ending his
confinement underground, was the end of mortal life. His mortal
death. Or more to the point, what followed his mortal death.

The demon dukes would never be allowed
access to Heaven. However good a life they led in their mortal
phase. They'd already been cast down. They were all fallen angels,
and in truth they had no taste for Heaven anyway. It was sterile
and too pure for their nature. And the alternative ending, in Hell,
as a lost soul, suffering in the fires of eternity, held no appeal
whatsoever.

Being a demon duke, with open access to the
realities was far more appealing and the best of a bad lot. He
simply had to endure his hellish surroundings in between visits.
Having a succubus to entertain himself with and to while away his
time, would make that so much more pleasurable.

Wasn't this just what he
wanted? What he needed? And what he had prayed to the depths of
Hell for?

His hard heart filled with enthusiasm inside
his ancient jaded chest.

During this reign of the Seraph, which was
about to come to an abrupt, and pitiful end, he was forced to sneak
up to the realities through a back door. The main doors of Hell
were heavily chained and barred, and guarded continuously by the
Seraph. But there were other ways to the realities. The nobles were
granted use of these, from time to time, to refresh their dark
souls with earthly pleasures. He knew the Seraph knew of them also.
But they allowed them their limited access. He also knew they were
watched all the time. He could sense their eyes and their presence,
but they were never approached.

He sighed gratefully. A long drawn out
breath of relief. A smile lit up his face. No more interminable
imprisonment. His legion would be in command on the surface. His
own Legatus would guard their right to occupy the realities soon.
They would bar and chain the stairway to Heaven and lock the
seraphim in their ivory tower. He'd banish the mindless do-gooders
to their tedious lives of contemplation and prayer.

That was to be his first goal.

The first day's work.

That and starting the seeds of discontent in
higher government. He would be sending the horde, to swarm the
earth, to switch the mindset of those hovering on the edge of
corruption. They would easily fall into their new ways, with a
small push from an impish hand, or a word of encouragement from a
legionnaire’s mouth, as they passed them by, unseen.