Lust
Translated from Russian
Dropped wings, a striped corset, a brisk whip, and ice-glazed lilac incessantly loom in front of Sebastian's lazy eyes; yet again it rushes forward and recedes, having left blood traces on his chest. The tailcoat is irrevocably ruined, lined by lashes, and stained with sticky murrey. In her vulgar attire, complemented with a wrap of hypocrisy, she resembles a lady of high society, who desperately indulges herself in the role of a night moth. The first act: the judge in bed. Angela dogmatically declares accusations which are instantly followed by punishment. The culprit, who has provoked her pious ire, is chained to the bedstead, but shackles do not bother him for he simply revels in his torture and has nowhere to hurry… at the moment.
"You… will pay for pandering to that boy in shorts… and for interfering in my plans", her soprano fills his ears with the chimes of an abandoned church, while she bites his neck and her canines tear the thin, like parchment, skin, trying to expose the demonic essence. But only sinful flesh shows through, and the hungry woman licks her lips, tightening the loop under his chin for the tenth time.
"And you", Sebastian forces a reply from his constricted throat, "Won't you have to answer for your delinquency, angel? You know, up there", he eloquently roles his orbs, "should be really disappointed, but… it seems, your escapade doesn't deserve their atten…"
The butler hasn't been allowed to finish his phrase; she pushes sharp fingers in his mouth and squeezes the cursed tongue, and then crawls onto him with the none-too-veiled triumph and hisses: "Those imbeciles? When they do sight, it will be too late. I'll reform… rearrange everything!" The divine creature laughs and heavily presses his thighs.
"Angels always prefer to be on top, even the fallen ones", a sudden thought emerges, and Sebastian smirks at his another witticism.
"Amused, devil?" she gushingly spills poison, rocking, as if riding waves.
"I'm only speculating… about the development. If your higher-ups do not take care of you, I'll have to burden myself with this sacred mission. Frankly, I'll also have to admit that I terribly like your extravagancy", the iron rings clatter when his gloved hand attempts an appropriate gesture.
"What a sacrilege! You're crazy, insolent fool. The likes of you can't stop me, worthless exile". Angela assumes her male appearance and sculptures them both in a new pose. But he doesn't mind… as before. The absence of the fear of violence defines all demons; it is immanent for their nature. Sebastian is not inclined to betray his own pleasure. The silly angel believes that he can enslave, destroy something like him, while using the enemy's weapons. He keeps silent about the absurdity and meditates upon how human bodies mess with the unearthly beings. That is why people so easily yield to temptations. All those carnal desires and forbidden feelings destroy the angel (and not only…), plunging him in the boiling abyss of passions. Angela wants more and more, Sebastian is rather ready to grant to such a greedy creature, similar to his kind, everything he wishes, everything he demands in his smothered moans. And when the fair-haired youth sinks, being exhausted by the zeal to assert his existence, inhaling the lulling fumes, Sebastian effortlessly frees one of his injured hands and gently brushes the pale cheek, smirching the unblemished skin.
"Now you are as impure as me, angel… so where is the difference between us? Once I used to be like you…" he interrupts his nostalgia with a tired sigh. The evil spirit bursts out laughing at angels, demons, humans, and the entire universe altogether.
"Don't worry! I'll catch you, my little dove. It's a pity I am not the one who will devour your sweetish, like a prune, soul", Sebastian adds and kisses his dreaming tormentor on the forehead, giving his blessing for misdeeds.