EXTRACT FOR
Apocalypse Woman
(Tyree Q. Kimber)

In that hidden vale, with the moon dark and her sins unseen, Selkines began to dance, or, perhaps it should be said, to writhe for her patron`s pleasure. It seemed to go on forever, a chaotic series of movements, the best of which were utterly obscene. Yet Selkines continued for what seemed like hours, continued until sweat coated every inch of her painted body and her lithe muscles ached. All the while, she prayed, raggedly chanting dark words until her lungs burned and it seemed the voice was not her own. And then, after it seemed an eternity had passed, with a gesture as vile as it was climatic, the dark dance ended.



Selkines fell to her knees in the dirt, flanks heaving, body glistening, and all silent save for the crackling of the fire. She was utterly exhausted and yet terribly aroused. In truth, the level of sexual hunger she felt was unprecedented, almost painful. Alone with no one to see and no one to stop her, it took all of the willpower she had not to send one hand seeking a pert breast, the other the damp cleft between her thighs, and begin a frenzied effort to release this alien tension playing havoc upon her body and soul. But no, at all costs, she must wait. Still, no sounds came to her except the licking of the flames. But the ritual had to have worked. He had to have heard her entreaty. He must come!



Nothing. Silence. Selkines` heart grew heavy and her loins, ever more impatient. All in vain, then. Her cry had gone unheard. Now, truly, she was alone. And then the fire changed.



First, the bright, blinding white of burning magnesium, then the livid green of burning copper, then, the yellow of a sulphurous cloud. The flames changed, and changed again. And then he was among them. Instantly averting her eyes, Selkines caught only the barest glimpse, but Abryax burned in her memory like the fires of his eyes which sifted in patterns identical to those of the bonfire consecrated to him. Much taller than a man, the demon stood, its limbs and body clothed in a living blackness which seemed to devour all light that touched it. Its masculine face was handsome beyond measure, even in spite of its bone-white skin, small horns, and the bottomless flaming sockets of its eyes. Its - no, his- beauty in all its unholiness was frightening to behold. The hunger in Selkines` loins silently cried out to him and her body trembled.



Abryax emerged from the shifting fire and was immediately before her. Selkines did not dare raise her eyes. What had she done? What would the fallen one demand of her?



An elegant, clawed hand extended languidly toward her and took her by the chin, forcing her to meet the bottomless, beautiful hell of her demon`s eyes. Those endless, colorful fires pulled her in, entrapping her in an enchantment of lust. It seemed the price would be exactly as she`d expected. Very well. The lust in her body, already unbearable, now redoubled tenfold at the demon`s command. Almost of their own volition, Selkines` hands now moved to her most sacred regions and a blasphemous dance of a new kind now began.