Then death and Hades were thrown into the lake of fire. The lake of fire is the second death.- Revelations 20:14
There was one universal rule that echoed even in the furthest recesses of hell-punish the wicked.
And in malicious collaboration with this intentionally ambiguous and overarching instruction, demons of hell found they could legally amplify 'wicked' in humans and use it to fan the Hadean Flame that kept hell running since it first emerged from the cinders of scorn cast down on its potentate.
This translucent red flame, nestled comfortably in the seventh circle of hell, was Ashemdai's own semi-sentient familiar, rather than any nightmarish horror his sister, Desmodaiya could dream up to saddle him with.
Now, in this temporary self-imposed exile, a small piece of this flame danced, like water in hot oil, between Ashemdai's nimble fingers as he contemplated on his impending reunion with the female human, Dahlia.
Dahlia.
Her name tasted like satin of the purest silk filaments even uttered in the recesses of his mind. But beneath the satin was a subtle and latent taste of sin that made his member twitch and combust in sheer excitement.
Posed like an irreverent renaissance sculpture who moonlights as a contemporary thirst trap, the succubus recalled how it felt to have her writhing and unkempt beneath him, much contrary to the composed and cold woman he had departed from almost a week ago.
The need to bury himself in her again, this time on the physical plane, was a vicious punch to the firm abs that decorated his demonic form.
He needed another taste of her, and he was going to have his fill the instant she consented to his request.
A low heavy bell pealed in the distance breaking Ashemdai's reverie about his human.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, he unfurled from his chair and headed to the ostentatious dining room to meet his siblings for the dinner that the bell signified.
While the concept of night and day remained indigenous to the earthly realm, there was a specific interval of moments where Hell's red moon cast an ethereal glow on the golden walls Durmad insisted they make the castle from.
As he stepped to the ceiling to floor windows to overlook the expanse of unholy architecture that was hell, the light illuminated his frame with a glow that contradicted the horns and rufescent red aura that surrounded him when he was home.
His favourite tormented liked to call it 'a telling paradox'.
Ashemdai still had a half smirk on his face when he entered the chaos of the feeding room.
As usual, they had started without him and Neji had already filled her bowl with as many souls of the damned as it could comfortably hold.
With an amused sigh, he took his seat on the periphery and continued to watch the movements about him, as if in the front seat of a comedy special created just for his entertainment.
To his immediate right, was his sister Desmodaiya, the only other sibling who remained as silent as him. The rest of the siblings were casing catastrophe in their own special ways.
Before he could observe their actions any further Durmad's haughty voice broke out over the din, signalling the first fight of the meal.
"Akuji, could you be anymore slouched in that chair. You know, we do not have to be the things we amplify." He said punctuated with his signature sneer.
Ashemdai could feel his sister's hackles rise from beside him. Her tenuous hold on her anger crackled in the air about her.
"Maybe you should pick on your own size, Durmad."
"Dear sister, he is my own size, set apart by only five demons. Maybe you should visit the earth realm more. Just so you can have a snowball's chance in hell at being somewhat intelligent."
Before the argument could evolve into physical fight between the two, Ashemdai gripped Desmodaiya's leg just as she was about to throw her carving knife at their brother.
"Do the thing."
"He's a pompous asshole who gets off on rubbing his shit in our face. Let me at least break one arm, Ash." His sister pleaded from behind clenched teeth.
"Do. The. Thing, Des."
"I absolutely abhor when you treat me like a little sister." she sighed and proceeded to count backwards from ten.
With the tension of the first fight dissipated, an unsatisfied Durmad proceeded to pick at another sibling whose reaction will serve to superficially scratch his superiority itch.
"Little Ashy, what is this I hear of you cavorting with a human pet. You really should muzzle your sex demons. One post coital glow later and they spill their guts like the humans Des tortures when she can't get to me."
"That none of your business, Durmad." replied the succubus from behind a mouthful of souls.
"Is that a touch of defensiveness I hear in your voice? Maybe I should visit this human and see what it is all about, if it can make our peacemaker so... vengeful."
The following moments transpired as if time stood still in hell itself. Ashemdai's latent red aura sharpened to a crimsoning bloodthirsty hue that bled into his eyes. The comforting baritone of his voice metamorphized into a symphony of dread that the siblings had not heard since Columbus came to their realm.
*"Od ton yot htiw em Durmad." The voices instructed leaving chills running down even, the usually uninvolved and unbothered, Akuji's spine.
With false bravado and a smile that could only be compared to the spider that lured the fly into its web, Durmad responded as Ashemdai stood to leave.
"Careful little brother, you know the rules."
Without conscious knowledge and with his brother's warning reverberating in his mind, Ashemdai found himself heading toward the ritual room. Once there, he began methodically, performing steps to the specific ritual that would take him to Dahlia's home in the earth realm.
He could acquiesce that Durmad had somehow shot an arrow through the slim space of his developing protectiveness of Dahlia. But as he drew the last rune onto his body and the blood he painted it in began to shimmer, he vowed that he would address the matter and rectify the seeming weak link in his chain mail.
He was a minute early when he set foot onto the wooden floors of the home that seemed to be decorated by Durmad's influence. Ashemdai flooded his senses with the scent of the woman he was fully prepared repeatedly bring to the edges of sensual oblivion tonight.
He could hear her above him, sliding into what sounded like the warm waters of a bath.
Slowly, as to not frighten her, he climbed up the stairs and gently tapped the door that hid her from him. Ashemdai heard the water slosh over the sides of her tub and for a moment was concerned when her heard her heart rate spike in apparent fright.
"Come in." she softly beckoned from the other side.
He pushed the door open and there she was. Her skin slick with moisture from her warm buttermilk bath, her kinky hair finally free from the confines of her severe low bun.
It was the eyes that always got him when he looked at her. The seeming liquid twin pools of vermeil held him immobile and captive under her innocent gaze.
He fought to remain calm and not to savagely take her in the rapidly cooling bath of milk. His Neanderthal days were long since behind him. Instead, he leaned on the door jam and communicated with her through a half lidded, smoldering, lusty gaze what his mouth would not say.
Slowly, as if understanding his own inability to initiate contact, she rose from the bath like a nymph ready to send him to sin and allowed his eyes to travel the expanse of her dark skin, subtly focusing on the dips and curves her body allowed.
Ashemdai would have liked nothing more than to bend her over and punish her for being a tease but he remained unmoved from his predatory perch against the door jam. And yet somehow, with some mystical power of her own, she unfolded his arms and transported him mere centimetres from her wet and naked body. It felt too much like being realms apart to Ashemdai.
The mystic power she just developed made him grab her messy bun, that was situated at the top of her head, and pull it backward so he could look her in the eye.
"Are you ready to complete what we started, vashti?" he asked in a voice that barely sounded anything like the humanoid features he shape-shifted into to ease her mind.
Dahlia lowered her eyes and nodded mutely.
"Look at me and answer aloud." Ashemdai urged.
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, I am ready to complete what we began."
"Good girl." the demon cooed.
Spurred by her consent, Ashemdai took her mouth in an all-consuming kiss that left the two feeling molten under its heat that made the Hadean heat feel obsolete.
Deliberately, he lay her back in to the tub she had risen from and continued to pour himself into her willing mouth.
While removing his shirt, he took the time to study her form once more. This was the Dahlia he knew, wanton, willing and wet and he could wait to re-familiarize himself with the contours of her pleasure.
"Spread your legs for me, vashti."
As she complied, he slowly trailed his fingers from her swollen lips down her body.
Her chocolate tipped nipples fascinated him and when he tasted them, their flavour surpassed any candied contraption that could be produced on earth.
The sounds of her soft moans penetrated the fog of lust that had covered his mind and he swore it was the most beautifully filthy thing he had ever heard.
His hand continued its descent as she used his horns to guide him closer to her bosom. The succubus teased her, lightly grazing his fingertips over the outer lips of her labia and repeating the move no matter how much she raised her hips to meet his hand.
Frustrated, his woman growled, and he removed his mouth off her breasts to flash her a cheeky smile, that showed his fangs, before continuing his oral worship.
This time he rubbed his fingers on the nub at the apex of her thighs propelling Dahlia to increase the volume of her moans.
"Yesssssssss." she moaned, the stressed constants hitting a little too close to home.
"Yes, who?" he urged as he sped up his ministrations.
"Ye-Yes, Ash- Ashemdai."
"Good girl." And with that, he slowly slipped his digits into Dahlia, her walls instantly gripping and milking the fingers.
"kcuf, Dahlia. You're so wet for me, vashti." he half moaned as he slowly pumped in and out of her.
"Come for me. Come all over my fingers, Dahlia" Ashemdai begged as he increased the speed of his thrusts.
There was a foreign pressure within Dahlia that she had never felt before and it was threatening to consume her entire being. The tingle swept up the naughty expanse of her naked body and concentrated on the points of contact between her and her unholy partner.
True to his nature, Ashemdai sensed the incoming explosion and began suction on the sensitive spot of her neck to speed its arrival.
Just before the force of the detonation that spun her entire world off axis flung her into unconscious, Dahlia heard a gravely voice by her ear breathily whisper, as if sending her off into the darkness with a comforting farewell,
"Enim."