Sex, Drugs, and Oblivian
5/21
The dead flesh he brought home for her began to smell worse and decay. When she returned, he wanted to show he made an effort. That he wanted to make things right.
Now he knew he could contribute to the upkeep of the dome on his own merits, and a tiny flame of pride flickered in him. Rillam had promised him double. He could purchase food and have enough left over for another blanket with that much, and so he dressed in easy to remove clothing, and marched to the marketplace.
The green haired Lilim reacted as soon as he entered the square, sweeping her wares into baskets. By the time he'd wended his way through the crowd, she had her stall shut tight. Lucifer walked toward the privacy of the screen she'd taken him behind before, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm.
Lucifer hesitated. "I thought this is what you wanted?"
"You want more coin, don't you? We can make more."
He didn't understand. "You said to bring no trade."
She pressed against him, and whispered in his ear, "You are the trade. Follow me if you want to earn more coin."
"I won't follow you to another place. If you want sex, we can do it in there."
"This isn't some pop-up orgy. It's like the Commons, but for throwbacks. Have you never seen the dome with the tantalizing carvings near Tyndale's shop? You want to earn regular coin, yes?"
"Of course."
"Then you need more customers than just me."
He glanced toward the Commons. "They won't accept non-Lilim."
"The Commons is for warriors. Throwbacks are more open minded. They enjoy...unique bodies." She pressed against him. "And you possess the most unique body we've ever seen."
"I say who touches me."
She frowned in confusion. "What other way is there?"
He swallowed hard. What indeed. But he wouldn't return home without supplies. He was done with burdening Maze.
Rillam snaked her hand under his clothes and raked her fingernails up his back. The touch tingled through his body and want spread in its wake. Maze hadn't touched him like that since the first wind in the barracks. He brushed Rillam's hair away from her scaly face and pressed his lips to hers. Her long, forked tongue prodded at his lips, and he opened his mouth to her, reveling in the sensations she drew forth. They stood groping and tasting one another as a small crowd formed.
Rillam grinned as she pulled away. "You want some, you pay," she called out to the crowd, and proudly led him away. It was just another exchange of goods.
It made sense. He could satisfy his want for sensation, and be valued. Unlike the time he was manipulated and left behind with the trash, this time he knew the terms. This time, he'd be in control.
She took him to the large dome where elaborate standing columns and carvings guarded the entrance. He recognised this place. Fraq had pointed it out on his first attempt to reach the market so many, many hands of ash ago. Sexual appendages wrapped around the column, intertwined representations of all shapes and sizes. Some were thick, others more tongue like, or with strange scales and suckers adorning their shafts. They curved around a multitude of breasts and disappeared into folds of layered flesh.
"You like what you see?" Rillam asked with a smirk.
He wanted more than to look at these wonders carved in stone. "Are these real?"
She laughed. "Welcome to Leviathan's Pit. Let's get you inside."
The more he explored the collective, the more he understood how they grouped themselves. All Lilim possessed certain monstrous features, but it was the least monstrous of them that were favored in the Spire and dealt their wares in the market. These were the throwbacks, as rejected as him in many ways.
This place was filled with Lilim with the most interesting characteristics. Fur, horns, tentacles, and things he didn't even know how to classify were prominent features of them all.
He laughed out loud. Oh, how glorious.
Several Lilim paired off in couples or groups on one side of the room, and on the other, low tables and lounging mats surrounded two vendors, one selling cooked flesh and the other alcohol. This place had an air of permanence about it, and the groups and couples trading pleasure, paying him no attention whatsoever, settled his mind. The memory of being used and discarded faded away. This was going to be fantastic.
The vendor paid a coin to the large Lilim looming just inside the door, and led Lucifer to an empty patch of bedding. She began removing her clothes and he shrugged out of his.
"Change."
His own skin, raw, red, burned and pitted as it was, would just be another monster in a room of monsters.
The form came easier each time he revealed it. His choice. The pain and horror—unwanted reminders of the fiery lake—gnawed at him, but he pushed that down. He stood before her, nude, red and scarred and she purred low in her throat, reaching for him with lust in her eyes. Her touch went straight to his groin and he groaned at the pressure, gripping her arms and dragging her tight against him. He kissed her again. When she bit into his neck, his knees buckled. She shoved him onto his back and mounted him. Her hands wrapped around his wrists, pushing his arms out to the sides, holding him in place as he writhed beneath her. She panted as her movements sped up, and she released his hands to touch herself as she ground against him. He cupped her breasts, squeezing and kneading.
He felt pressure building inside, so close, but she stopped, moaning loudly, clenching around him. It wasn't enough to send him over the edge to his own climax. She slid off him and stood up, smirking as she looked down at him. Addressing the room she called out, "Any takers?"
A large male with coarse pebbly skin, jutting lower teeth, and long clawed fingers stepped up and jingled his purse. Rillam held out her hand, accepted payment, and stepped away.
The rough-skinned male didn't speak, only tilted his head. Lucifer nodded, ready and waiting. The Lilim's claws scratched Lucifer's hips, exactly how he wanted and needed, and his climax made his whole body tingle with pleasure. The male withdrew and Lucifer flopped onto his side satiated and pleasantly exhausted.
He was unaware of much of anything until a hand rested on his shoulder. "Up you get, angel."
Rillam crouched beside him, gripped his arm and pulled him up into a sitting position. She passed him his chiton, and leggings, and gave him time to get dressed.
"More will want a taste after that, but not this ashfall, let them wait and their interest will grow stronger. Come back, and there will be plenty of coin for you to make here. Come, let's return you to the market. You came looking for more than just a fun time, yes?"
She gave him the coins she'd agreed to pay him and half of what the male had handed her. More than enough to buy everything he needed. Lucifer returned home with a full basket of hearth moss and a heavy blanket. His next meal would be a feast, his porridge so thick that it would have to be scooped like back in Maze's dome. His stomach growled in anticipation, but he put his purchases away and went to the bathing dome to wash himself and the clothes he'd not bothered to clean lately. He lined his eyes with kohl for the first time since they'd been forced to move, and he looked at himself in the mirror with pride.
The bargain paid off. Maze returned before the winds rose, and she ate the fresh dead flesh he'd brought home. It was well worth the small smile as she brushed her fingers along his cheek. He'd missed this, and leaned in, eager to be with her again, to taste her again. They laid together through windrise, and Lucifer took advantage every moment. Like old times.
"Come home more often," Lucifer whispered to her.
She slept at his side. Maze returned to the dome earlier for a hand of ashfalls after, and he kept up the effort to make the dome and himself perfect. She answered him when he spoke; sat with him by the fire, and he dared to hope they were over their rough patch.
Maybe things could go back to the way they were.
But the knowledge that he still had her trophy pouch hidden among his items gnawed at him. Perhaps now he could give it back to her.
"Maze, in the chamber with Anilith when you gave her your Talisman Pouch—"
"We will not speak of that, Lucifer."
"But—"
"I'm going to sleep now."
When she woke, he attempted to tell her he wouldn't speak of it again, but she hushed him before the words left his tongue. She left as soon as the winds calmed.
Her pouch remained tucked safely away in the purple jellydisc jar.
Why haven't you told her you have her pouch yet?
He didn't know. Talking didn't work, but he could put it into her hands with no words. Every time he thought about returning it like that he felt so cold inside that his limbs froze. The pouch was a reminder of his failure at the spire. He ate lukewarm porridge and drank tepid tea and lay back on the bedding.
Maze didn't return. He needed more supplies; the dead flesh had begun to rot.
He waited; she'd be back. She always came back. He resolved not to mention the pouch again. If all it did was drive her away, he'd keep it a secret forever.
Why are you waiting? She doesn't want to be with you.
He didn't want to be alone anymore. Thinking about the Leviathan's Pit sent shivers of anticipation down his spine. The longing for more body sensations drew him. He wouldn't be alone there. They wanted him; he yearned to be wanted.
When the winds stopped blowing, Lucifer took a few of his remaining coins and walked back to the Pit. He paid the guard to let him in. Even though it was early, the dome was filled. Everyone stopped to stare, and he momentarily doubted his choice to come here without Rillam to mediate for him. Let them stare. He stripped his clothes and sat on the same bed he'd occupied before.
Several Lilim went back to their interrupted pleasure. None made offers. With a heavy sigh, he called forth his other skin. A smattering of exclamations sounded from around the dome and three Lilim approached in a group. The first male outsized Lucifer, and his penis was long, thin, and seemed to move independently of his gait. The second was covered in soft, fluffy, brown and black striped fur, and even better his wide penis had multiple heads. The female had yellow scaly skin and the pupils of her purple eyes were vertical slits. They offered him coin and he readily accepted, eager for these new experiences.
Over the next hand of ashfalls he learned more tricks and techniques than he'd ever imagined possible, and the more adventurous he became in designing new ways to draw pleasure from those who sought him out, the more eager they were to reciprocate.
Lucifer thrust into the body underneath him, the Lilim loudly sharing her enthusiasm for his performance with the rest of the patrons of the Pit. This one hadn't wanted his ruined skin, she wanted his angelic visage, and he'd been more than willing to deliver. These Lilim, who were nearly as unappealing to others in the collective as he was, weren't all seeking something even more corrupt than themselves. Some wanted to be desired by perfect symmetry. Whatever they wanted, if he could provide it, he did.
And for that he was valued.
Lucifer wanted to be desired in whatever way they would have him. He craved the pleasure derived from bodies intertwined, but most of all, he craved companionship, however fleeting. Alone meant listening to voices that were not his shouting in his mind in a language he longed to forget. It meant existing without purpose in a world he wasn't designed for. It meant accepting that he'd lost Maze through his own failures.
In the Pit there was no one to lose. There were always more willing to take their places. With his talents, he drew forth passionate reactions, played on the bodies of those he possessed with ease, and he cherished the control they gave him.
In a very short amount of time, those in the pit accepted him as one of their own.
The scent of hair-moss wafted through the air. He and Maze had been so happy the first time they shared the drug. He approached the group that smoked it, and he nodded to the one holding the burning moss. Her silver horns sparkled in the firelight. "How much to join?"
"Three coins." Her forked tongue poked out between pointy teeth as she spoke.
Too much. She waited with an open expression. He knew her, knew what made her scream her pleasure for all to hear. She came to him again and again, and he knew she wasn't hostile to him. This was the game from the marketplace, the one the vendors refused to play with him. But this place was different. It was worth a try. "One coin."
She grinned, her teeth bared in the fashion of an amused Lilim. "Two."
He gave her the coins and found space in their circle. A bundle of smoldering moss was passed his way and he placed it to his lips, drew it into his lungs and held it there. A sense of calm and ease washed over him, body and mind. He reclined on the floor cushions and listened to the story the silver-horned female told. The wart-covered male beside him rubbed against his side, and Lucifer rubbed back, welcoming the attention. The story ended, as most stories did, with the humiliation of her enemies. Lucifer laughed along with the others.
By the time he'd dragged the last of the smoke from his bundle into his lungs, the silver-horned story teller spread herself over him, and he gladly accepted the invitation.
She stroked her hand through his hair and he kissed her wrist, moving up her arm until reaching her neck and finding a spot just under the horny protrusions on her head that brought forth moans from her lips. He used his skills to make her hips writhe and her breath quicken. He satisfied her, and reached out, needy and wanting as another took her place. It was good. He belonged.
And after, he collected his clothes and the coins he traded for and staggered back to the dome.
The next time he entered the Leviathan's Pit, he joined the group with the hair-moss again. He reached for his purse, but the silver-horned female waved his hand away and gave him an already burning twist, eager for his company.
Several ashfalls later, Maze returned at windrise. They reached the dome at the same time and she wrinkled her nose after she sniffed him.
He lit a small fire, then had to add more to it when Maze approached with her dead flesh.
"Are you short on hearth moss?"
"No," he said, nodding with pride to the full basket in the storage shelf.
"And you're not keeping the fire going for warmth?"
"I use what I need." He heated his water and added the amount of powdered fungus he'd grown accustomed to.
She gnawed on the dead flesh for a while, her eyes scanning the room critically. "Is that all you're going to eat?" She asked
Why did she question him so closely now? He looked at the bowl and sloshed the contents. It was twice what he had been eating before he began trading at the Pit. "It's enough."
She looked skeptical, but said, "I heard you frequent the Leviathan's Pit."
He nodded, sitting straighter from the pride he felt in satisfying his partners' desires. "Have you been there?" Maybe she would want to go with him? He could show her the skills he learned.
"Not my kind of place."
Right. He'd forgotten the beast-like Lilim there were shunned by warriors with status.
"That's where you want to be?" She asked.
"I'm very good at what I do there," he said, pride strengthening his resolve. It didn't matter if Maze approved or not.
Maze didn't stay long and he hadn't expected her to.
Your presence is poison. Maze is better off without you here.
And what the inner voice said felt true.
He longed for the hair-moss, and it became routine to join the circle of smokers when he entered the Pit, coupling with them for fun and companionship, and when he needed supplies, there were always plenty who were willing to pay for his skills.
And it was good.
