Over bumpy roads Crowley drove
back to the sanctuary. His heart lifted upon sight of the derelict building it
resided beneath, black against the night sky. It had been a long week.
They heard him enter, their cries
bringing a smile to his lips, and washing away the remnants of his arduous
week. He’d missed them – and them him. A week alone was long, he knew that.
He went about his ministrations,
giving the minimum needed to sustain them; their outstretched hands grabbing
what they could, a few lucky ones grabbing more.
As they settled, he did too,
taking his place in the worn armchair positioned in the centre of the cavernous
room facing the cell doors. Eyes peered between bars set into thick oak. It
afforded him protection, until he opened them. But it was early yet, and he had
to nurse a week out in the real world first.
He unscrewed the bourbon,
enjoying its glint in the lantern light. He relished the first sip, the fire
awaking his soul as it warmed his body. It wouldn’t take many to bring him back
to life tonight.
They watched him as he drank,
knowing.
After just two he stood up,
hearing their collective breaths as he walked to the back of the room to the CD
player. He needed something dark and heavy tonight, something that would talk
to his soul. He knew the one he needed, and they knew it too once he put it on.
He heard their murmurs when the
first chords came through the tiny speakers, and he felt their eyes on him as
he walked to the corner to fetch the keys, the rattle of which seemed to
heighten their voices, bringing out their melodic high pitched tones. His mood
lifted further; this was always his favourite part.
They shrank back as he turned the
key in each lock, but he let them do the opening tonight; he was in no hurry.
Instead he returned to his chair and the amber liquid that enhanced his
enjoyment.
The door in the middle creaked
open. Crowley knew she’d be first; she was bolder than the others, more daring.
She slithered out, pressing herself against the wall, and then sliding down it,
relieved to be out.
Her nakedness aroused him, but he
remained seated, knowing she would come to him in her own time, but only once
the others were out too. They were a collective – it was why he enjoyed them so
much.
As they appeared they drew
together like magnets, huddling close, their unique forms fitting like a
writhing puzzle. He watched their constant motion as they stroked and caressed
each other, comforting and titillating at the same time. Once fully awake and
excited they turned their gaze on him, with a sparkle in their eyes. It was his
turn to inhale.
Crowley set his drink down, and
loosened his trousers, bracing himself for their onslaught. Capturing dark
forest fairies was one thing, but satiating their lurid desires was another.
He’d learnt to hold his own under their frenzied devouring of all he had to
offer, and although he might be left raw, he was never left wanting. He didn’t
know if he could ever let them go, and in the peaks of their coupling, he hoped
they didn’t want him to.
