Every millennium the most innocent angel in all of Heaven is sacrificed to the most evil demon in Hell. Elandra is this angel. Though she fears for her life and her virtue, she never dreams that she will find true love in Hell.
Raziel is half-demon, brought up by his powerful father to take control of the underworld. But when Elandra is presented to him, he can't bring himself to hurt her. Instead he lets her go.
Back in Heaven, Elandra can't forget the beautiful demon with the blazing eyes. Raziel's touch has started a fire in her soul and though she knows it is forbidden, she can't help wishing to see him again. Their love must be a secret, but Elandra's pure beauty incites the demonic half of Raziel's nature. Can a demon love an angel without hurting her? For if Raziel is unable to keep his lust in check, Elandra will be cast out of Heaven for being...defiled.
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1 . When good meets evil
Posted February 09, 2012 by JLP , PittstownHot and steamy...
November 13, 2009
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Excerpt from Defiled by Evangeline Anderson
Eternity is a very long time. An unimaginable length of darkness and light that mere mortals cannot begin to comprehend. In fact only those who are given the gift of immortality, of life never-ending, can begin to understand it. The cherubim and the seraphim who stand at the right hand of the Lord of Hosts grasp it. Likewise the demons and Hell spawn who tend the fiery pit for the Evil One can grip the concept in their dark minds. All of these celestial and demonic beings are condemned to go on and on forever with the knowledge that nothing will ever change for any of them.
All except one.
Every millennium the youngest, most innocent angel in all of Heaven is given to the foulest, most evil demon in Hell. It is a terrifying and deadly ordeal when the two meet, for the pure and gentle celestial spirit is destined to be defiled by the savage lusts of the creature of darkness. A great pity indeed. But how else to keep the balance between the two otherworldly realms? It is a necessary sacrifice long arranged between the powers of good and evil and it cannot be stopped. If it were, the war between Heaven and Hell would overflow upon Earth, wreaking havoc and carnage and wiping all life from the surface of the blue-green globe that hovers in space between them.
Elandra, the youngest and most beautiful member of the Heavenly Host, knew these things. And yet she never understood that she was to be the sacrificial lamb cast to the ravening wolves of the underworld. Somehow it never crossed her mind though the signs were all there, if only she had looked.
Her life was idyllic. She sang sweetly in the Heavenly Choir and worked in her own little cloud garden where she coaxed the sweetest blooms to grow. Some of her time was spent with the other angels, but she loved time to herself as well. Time to look into the starry sky and dream and wonder and wish for hours on end. All of these innocent pastimes were fairly usual for an angel.
And yet, Elandra was different.
It is said that whenever the Lord of Hosts creates an angel, a new star appears in the sky to mark the occasion. And no star shone so brightly and beautifully as Elandra's. Had she been on Earth, she would have seen how it lit the night sky with a powerful radiance unequaled among the heavenly bodies. Just as her star was different from the other celestial beings', so was her form.
Under their pure white robes, as thin as the finest gossamer and soft as the most expensive silk, the bodies of Elandra's friends were straight and sexless. Their flat chests bore only the tiniest light pink buds--the mere suggestion of nipples. Between their legs were only colorless, undeveloped cocks that barely deserved the name if they were male. Females had pale slits as dry and uninviting to the shaft of the opposite sex as tiny, frigid deserts.
Not so for Elandra. Her body was slender but curvy and she had full, heavy breasts tipped with dark pink nipples just begging to be sucked. And the tender furrow between her legs was no sexless slit--it had lately blossomed into a hungry pleasure flower--a change Elandra didn't know what to think of. The lips of her cunt always seemed swollen with need and her inner pussy was flushed a dark, inviting pink although she had no idea what she needed.
Sometimes for no apparent reason the little button in the folds of her cunt would throb and ache and a special, slippery honey would coat her pussy. Then Elandra would feel strange and tingly all over as though she was waiting for something, something she couldn't understand or define. She thought of asking her friends, the other angels, if they ever experienced such things. But just the idea of trying to describe what was happening to her was terribly embarrassing. Besides, she could plainly see through the thin, gauzy robes they all wore that they were different from her--their bodies were slender and perfect and sexless while hers...was not. So she would hide in her cloud garden and try to think of other things until the aching between her legs passed.
Elandra knew the millennial sacrifice was coming up soon. She even knew what it entailed. One of the angels--possibly even one she knew--would be bound and cast down to the pits of Hell to satiate the fearsome demon Osgiloth's appetite for heavenly flesh. For he was the demon who ruled in Hell while the Lord of Darkness walked Earth, seeking whomever he could devour. Sometimes the other angels whispered of what the denizen of darkness would do to the unfortunate one who was chosen to give him or herself for the good of all.
"Osgiloth would have his minions hold you down and rip away your gown," Elandra's best friend Alara whispered to her when they were talking about it one day. "And then they'd lick and suck and torture all your most sensitive parts until you screamed for mercy--but of course they wouldn't listen for they are demons."
"Of course not," Elandra murmured. For it was true--who had ever heard of a merciful demon? But she couldn't help asking her friend, as she plucked at the newest blossoms in her cloud garden, "What sensitive parts do you mean?"
Alara's silver eyes, so like Elandra's own, widened. "Why the points on your chest. And the spot between your legs. You know what I mean."
Elandra knew exactly what she meant. Pushing a long strand of golden hair behind one ear, she nodded silently. The image of the powerful Osgiloth's demonic minions ripping away some helpless angel's robes and sucking her ripe, aching nipples with their hot mouths and long tongues was very vivid. As was the idea of the Horned One himself parting her legs to enter the slippery slit of her sex.
"They say demons have a forked cock, you know," Alara murmured, keeping her voice low for angels are not supposed to discuss such things. "That they can pierce both entrances at once if they wish."
"I hadn't heard that. Do you believe it's true?" Elandra shivered.
Alara shrugged. "I don't know. But I hope I never have to find out."
"I hope not either," Elandra agreed fervently, but deep down she wondered. Just speaking of such things had caused her to react and now her nipples were so hard that even the gauzy gown she wore seemed to chafe them unbearably. Between her legs, her cunt was hot and wet, almost as though it might welcome the defilement of a demon's cum inside her. But of course that was impossible. For no matter how slippery her pussy got, it was still small and delicate and demons were said to have huge cocks, much bigger than the shrunken specimens of the Heavenly Host. And they knew how to use them too--something no angel would ever dream of doing.
Angels have no sexual knowledge of themselves, nor do they need or want any. Only if they fall from the grace of the One God do they gain this most base and forbidden understanding. Which is why any demon can fuck and every angel is a virgin from the moment of creation until the end of time.
Every angel but the one chosen for the sacrifice.
When they came for Elandra she was tending her garden and wishing she was able to grow blossoms some other color besides the pale blue and pink of clouds at sunrise. A vivid red might be nice. Or even a rich, royal purple... She was so engrossed in her thoughts that the rough hands dragging her to her feet took her completely by surprise.
When she looked up to see who was handling her so, her heart nearly stopped in her chest. Two of the largest male angels, ones she recognized as the personal guard of Gabriel himself, were dragging her to the far end of Heaven, their perfect features set and grim.
"What's happening? Where are you taking me?" Elandra gasped, but inside she was afraid she knew. They were taking her to Abyss Leap, the one place in Heaven where the fiery pits of Hell could be seen far below. She and Alara had only gone there once before, on a dare, and just the memory of all that seething chaos and destruction was still enough to make her shiver. The idea of falling into that, of being pushed from the most perfect place in the universe down to a land where evil reigned and cruelty was the order of the day made tears come to her pure silver eyes.
But tears or no tears, her captors were ruthless.
"You are to be the millennial sacrifice, Elandra," said the one who had her right arm. "Gabriel himself gave the order. I am sorry but it cannot be helped."
"No, please! I beg you--not me. Please!" Elandra struggled but there was no getting away from the cruel angelic hands that held her. Despite her wild protests they bound the tips of Elandra's wings so that she couldn't fly from her fate. Then, without words or warning, they cast her down, down, down into the seething blackness that is Hell.
Me, all along it was me they meant for the sacrifice, she realized too late as she fell. Why did I never see before? I'm different--too different to be allowed to stay in Heaven. It's my body--I feel more, want more than the others. That's why they cast me out. That's why I'm to be the sacrifice that keeps the balance. It's my own fault for wanting and needing more than I should. The realization filled her with humiliation but as Hell rushed toward her, her bound wings quivering against her back as she struggled to break free and fly, fear surpassed her shame.
Though she was unable to flap her bound wings, they at least billowed open enough to slow her fall. But it wasn't smashing to the ground that Elandra feared--it was what would happen if she survived her fateful fall.
As the stench of brimstone assaulted her delicate nostrils and the laughter of demons fell on her ears, she was filled with terror. What would Osgiloth's minions do to her? Would they pluck her beautiful white feathery wings in a fit of jealousy? For demons have no wings--they gave them up along with their celestial forms when they took arms against the Lord of Hosts and were cast from Heaven into Hell. Or would they do as Alara had said and rip her robes, the better to defile her innocent body?
She scarcely had time to contemplate her fate as the burning pit rushed up to meet her. But just before her slender body would have landed on the hard, hot ground, two sets of rough, leathery hands caught her--two demonic imps, the lowliest of all demons. She realized they must have been waiting for her, the millennial sacrifice, and knew they would take her to Osgiloth for his evil pleasure.
Elandra had a quick, confused impression of the two bent and twisted creatures, half the size of a man, with curving horns like a ram and hardened, dark red skin. The creatures who had her were exactly what she had been told demons looked like, but the reality of the situation was far, far worse than any of her imaginings had ever been. Then one of them tied a filthy rag over her eyes as the other bound her ankles together and her hands behind her back and she could see no more.
She was lifted high and the hands caressed and pinched and prodded her as they began to move. Elandra shivered at their filthy touch against her skin and slow tears slid down her perfect cheeks. How could she endure it? But endure it she must for the hands that held her were terribly strong and she was tied hand and foot and wing with no means to escape.
"A pretty one, isn't she?" a shrill voice taunted. "So pure and lovely. Are you ready to be demon's meat, my pretty angel?"
"Let her be, Bolx," the other imp said angrily. "You know our orders. Nothing's to be done to her so just let her be."
"Well, we can't very well carry her to the manse without touching her," the first imp protested. "So I say let's make the most of it." The fingers became more invasive and Elandra cried out as they found the cleft between her legs. She was dry now, too full of fear to feel the strange desires of her body, so unlike that of the other angels. But the imp's clever fingers pried between her thighs anyway, as though seeking a way to ruin her before she was even presented to his master.
"Please, no!" she gasped, twisting wildly as she tried to get away. This nightmare was nothing like the half-formed fantasies she'd entertained while sitting by her small, safe cloud garden. This was horrible--too horrible to be real and yet it went on and on. Shrill demonic laughter filled the air as she struggled and wept. Apparently the imp named Bolx was enjoying her discomfort and fear as much as the feel of her flesh under his hard hands. "Please," she begged again. "Please not...not inside me..."
Her words seemed to galvanize the other imp because their forward progress stopped with a jerk.
"I said leave her be!" cried the second voice again. "You know the Dark One's orders--no one is to have her before him. Not even a taste."
Elandra was jostled mercilessly as the second imp struck the one called Bolx. From under the edge of the dirty rag she could see the pure white feathers falling from her wings disintegrate the moment they touched the foul ground of Hell.
"Fine, then." Bolx's high, cracked voice was sullen. "You can't blame me for trying, though. Just look at her--in that see-through gown with her big ripe tits on display and that soft, hot little angel cunny. I never had no angel cunny before."
"And you're not gonna have none now," was the short reply as they began moving again. "She's for the Dark One, not the likes of you and me."
"Doesn't seem fair we aren't given a turn too. We're the ones have to break our backs carrying her halfway 'round the Lake of Fire so her pretty feet won't be hurt by the brimstone," Bolx grumbled.
"Orders is orders," said the other imp implacably. "Besides, it ain't like she's heavy. Don't weigh no more than a lost soul."
"Because she's mostly feathers," Bolx said. He gave the inside of Elandra's thigh a vicious pinch, as though in retribution for his earlier punishment. She cried out again but this time the other imp was silent. Apparently pain was not forbidden, only debasement--at least until they reached Osgiloth.
The Lake of Fire, where lost souls and demons in disgrace are cast, is so huge it would take more than a human life span to walk halfway around. But Osgiloth's manse, where the imps were taking Elandra, was not very far from the spot where she had fallen from Heaven in the first place. It seemed an interminable journey, however, since she was being carried so roughly with the hot, sulfurous smell of Hell in her nostrils. The imps had stopped talking and the only sounds besides the click of their cloven hooves on the hot brimstone was the howling cry of the lost souls doomed to burn forever in the lake's fiery depths.
I shall die. I am going to my death, Elandra thought and knew it to be true. An angel in Heaven is an immortal being and cannot be killed or harmed. But an angel in Hell is something else entirely. Celestial flesh is too pure to stand the filth and foulness of the underworld for long. Already she could feel her skin crawling and itching from the touch of the impure hands upon her. She felt unclean and knew it would only get worse. Once the great demon Osgiloth was finished with her she would surely melt away to nothing, like a snowflake in the barren wastes of the desert. There was no way she could endure such horror for long--nor would she want to. She was certain that when it came, death would be a relief.