You can feel metal biting, grinding into your wrists and ebbing at your flesh, as if it was intent on eroding away your skin to expose the vulnerable meat beneath. The shackles you have been incarcerated in are harsh, and unforgiving without the hope of escape or the comfort of cushioning. Rusty and sharp are the edges they hold, and their metal is bound tightly around your frail wrists, tighter than they probably should. A few strands of the hair that lay on your arm managed to get caught in the enclosure of metal, and even though the hairs were short, they still sent pain through your arms as they were constantly tugged and ripped from their pores. The shackles bit down a little more, and though you try to move your wrists from side to side to loosen the grip, you can only feel the sting of the pain a little more. A sharp edge pokes you, just below your right thumb, like a pin prick that was driven into your flesh.

The pain in your hands is dominating, but you try your best to force out the thoughts and to concentrate on what had happened to you. You can remember nothing, save for the image of yourself walking down a darkened alley, and then a sudden flash as something struck you from behind. As you close your eyes and try to recall it, you can still remember little, but as you ponder longer on the event a sound could be heart, faintly. The sound of the air being ripped, following by the sound of footsteps landing behind you, just before your head was struck. It sounded as if something fell purposely behind you, with it in mind to strike you with all its might.

You’re laying down in an ornate bed, far more decorative than you ever thought would have existed within this corner of town. At first you were walking in a low income area, and now from the feel on your back and the sight of the bedposts you were in what could easily be called a mansion. There is mostly darkness beyond your view of the bed, but in the shadows you can faintly make out the images of dressers and armoires, not to mention an expensive-looking fur coat that lays on a chair only two feet from your bed. Within time your vision starts to react and compensate for the lack of lighting, and you can finally make out a figure that lays in the farthest corner of the room. The figure is sitting before a window, which from where you can see shows darkness and rain, the same as when you were knocked from consciousness. The figure itself seems thin without much determining characteristic, but from it’s smaller stature you can mildly guess that its female.

“Good morning.” A voice suddenly enters the room, and at once you realize that the sound has come from the figure, as if it could detect that you had finally just noticed it. The voice is female, but very low and mildly sinister, as if it belonged to the voice of a snake.

“Where am I?” Your confusion and fear are apparent in your voice, despite your attempts to block them and guise them as anger. The words come out as those of a weak child, who desires the aide of his parents in the dark. You scowl to yourself, and make tiny fists within your chained hands.

“You’re here.” The voice replied, calmly, and the figure in the corner makes a subtle motion, as if it was adjusting it’s hair. The voice is the same low and sultry tone as it was before, but there was a mild comforting tone in it now, as well. “You’re here...with me.”

You try to rise, but as if you were pushed your back is flung to the bed once more. Again you make an attempt to life yourself, but the force pushes you down again, and this time you feel as if your entire body is pinned. You can feel no other chains along your body nor felt any hands upon your frame, so you can only assume that you were shoved back into the mattress by other, unnatural means. Your fear intensifies, and you speak out once again, determined to have at least your confusion eliminated, if not your fear.

“And who are you?” Your voice sounds braver, despite how your heart quivers, and beats hard within your chest. “I want an explanation!”

The figure does not reply verbally, but instead slowly gets up, and you are entreated to seeing a little bit more of the figure’s form. It is short and thin, with something sweeping behind it, perhaps a robe or a cape that an eccentric rich soul would wear. Slowly the figure turns to face your direction, and still without a word or even the sound of stepping feet, begins to approach you. There is no motion in the figure as it draws closer to you, neither from leg nor body. It looks as if it is floating, steadily and surely floating to where you lay. Your heart beats faster, and by the time the figure approaches you have closed your eyes and turned away, fearful of seeing what may very well be your executioner. Darkness envelopes your sight, and you wait and brace yourself for a killing strike. A prayer runs through your mind, words you read long ago in a book you no longer believed in, but in the face of death you cannot help but remember;

Now I lay me down to sleep;

The words flow freely in your mind, though you had never uttered them for almost ten years passing. They keep repeating in your mind, with as terrified a voice as you would have spoken them aloud, again and again as fear beats hard into your heart.

Now I lay me down to sleep;

Again and again the words run through your mind, and your lips begin to move along with the thoughts, though not a whisper escapes your lips. Your fists grow tight within their bonds, and you can feel the sharp pain of the rusty metal cutting at your wrists once more. The pain dies from your arms as the fear takes control.

Faster and faster your heart beats within your chest, until you feel as if its on the verge of bursting through your bones and muscle. Your heart rate is rapid and panicked, and as you feel a mild chill over you the thought flashes through your mind you are soon to die. You say the prayer once more in your mind, and then shut off your reasoning. You allow thought to die from your mind, and await the death that will surely take you in its embrace within seconds.

Now I lay me down to sleep;

The words are the same that had run through your mind nearly fifty times in the past three minutes, but a voice now speaks them aloud, a voice that is not your own. The voice is that of the voice in the bedroom you laid in, though it spoke them with more comfort than malice, and spoke the meaning as well as the words, it seemed, with a touch of emotion within the tone.

Slowly and fearful yet, you open your eyes. As you do so your fear magnifies, and your hands clench tight once again, with all the might of your body. The only view you see is that of the city from far above, buildings and cars and people that look like specks, most of their sight marred by the fog and clouds that lay in between. You wonder for a second if you have begun the ascension into heaven, and your heart beats harder against your chest. You seem as if you continue to rise, and as you do so your hear grows braver and braver. Before long you can view the city below without wincing or flinching from fear, and your eyes open wide while your mouth gapes apart, to catch the delicious air that rolls slowly into your throat.

But you notice that something is amiss. Though you feel as if you’re flying you don’t feel entire right, and you suddenly realize that the pain in your hands has increased, ever so slightly. Looking up above you the sight of the shackles remain, and added to their visage is who your obvious captor happened to be. With one tiny hand she held the crook of the chain of your cuffs, and dangled you so high above in the air. Her body was wrapped in a tight fitting outfit of purple and black, with a low cut V shape down her chest, nearly pouring out what looked to be rather large breasts. Her hair was a light green and her eyes a bit deeper, and her lips were ruby red as they smiled, amused, at your fear. Behind her large black wings had fully extended, and held out as she carried you aloft into the air. Occasionally the wings would flap, slowly, and carry you a little higher. The woman’s legs were tucked up near her waist and you could see that she almost looked to be sitting as she flew. Her long, slender legs were crossed and a pair of jet black boots hung down. She looked as if she casually placed on an invisible barstool, that for some reason continued to extend into the heavens. Before long after noticing her the woman begins to speak, and the smile continues to play on her sultry red lips.

“You mortals are so cowardly.” Her voice isn’t harsh but quite pleasant now, the voice of a friend who liked to tease and play. “Always worried about dying, as if those shells you inhabit had any value at all.”

“Who are you?” Your words are re-iterated, and she speaks them with a tone obviously meant to joyfully mock you. “That’s what you want to know, right?” The woman grins, and one of her light green eyebrows raise as she regards you. You can do nothing near speaking, so instead just slowly nod your head up and down.

“The mortals call me Morrigan.” The woman replies calmly, and presses a few of her front right fingers to the wide open flesh on her chest. As she does so you can see her fingernails are a deep black, and the clothing of her outfit wraps up and tapers around the index finger. As if the woman senses your next question, she continues to speak the words that give you comfort.

“I’m not going to kill you.” She says matter-of-factly. “Never had intention of it.”

“Then what do you ---”

“Want?” Your words are cut away from your mouth, and the woman grins a little wider. “I want what any woman wants. A little companionship...a little of your time...and a little bit of passion.” With that her body drops and straightens, and it looks as if she’s now standing in the air, though her wings continue to flap. You can feel the pain in your wrists lessen, and your arms are now allowed to lower to your midsection, though she still keeps her fingers wrapped gently around the chain. As the woman draws herself to your level you still find that you’re flying at her height, despite the chain she holds you with is lower than your chest. You swallow hard, and allow the minor break of the laws of psychics roll right off your back, as it was hardly the strangest thing currently going on.

Without another word the woman leans forward, and with her free arm she grips you around your neck, and pulls you slowly closer towards her frame. Her own eyes close though yours stay open, and in a surprise motion you can feel the heat of her lips on yours. She begins to kiss you with an intimacy normally only shared between husband and wife, but for some odd reason this kiss from a stranger makes you feel as if you have known her for years. Before long you can feel the texture of her moist tongue lapping out at your mouth, and though you are scared your body reacts naturally, and soon both of your tongues and dancing tightly, swarming and amassing around each other’s form, sharing the saliva between a human and a...demon?

Morrigan breaks the kiss after a moment’s time, and her free hand goes to your shoulder, and gently edges you downwards. Her tongue rolls slowly over her lips, and she spreads some of her saliva over her mouth, coating her lips in a thin film. The gesture is erotic, and you watch it so intently that you barely hear the words she speaks.

“Lay down.” She murmurs softly, and pushes you a little harder. You are tentative to do so given your state of flight, but the words of the woman continue to press you on. “You’ll be all right.”

Her words are comforting if not descriptive, and you do as commanded with no further hesitation. As you lay on your back you find it much like laying on a bed, and though you still glide through the air whilst whipping through the wind, you are comfortable and oddly without fear. From the point of the kiss, you trust this woman.

Before long the girl is meeting you from above, her legs slowly extending and straddling across your waist. Her right hand still grips the chain of your cuffs, but her left hand now trails up, and slowly begins to word at the tight fitting outfit she has been forced into. She tugs with frustration at the leather garbed over the sides of her breasts, and only with help from your free hand does she managed to pull it back and reveal a pair of milky white breasts to your eyes. Her body is excited and you can see her intensity, and without another word your head reaches up, and takes the front of her breast hungrily into your mouth. The woman laughs softly as you kiss her body, and you can feel her fingers gently knead the back of your neck.

“Maybe you have a backbone after all.” She speaks with pleasure, and you can feel her flesh stiffing in your lips. Your tongue feverishly passes over the subtle wrinkles in the front of her breast, and your teeth clench down on a focal point in a sea of white skin. The voice of the woman forms into a low moan, and she pushes her body forward to your mouth.

Within moments your mouth leaves her breast, and now your hands work together once more, this time to remove clothing from lower parts of the body. Shortly you have managed to exceed in what you desired, your pants undone and your own sex hanging out, while the thin fabric of her revealing outfit has been torn, just enough to give you entrance to her body. You can see a soft patch of green hair just above her pinkish sex, and before looking back up to her face, Morrigan speaks.

“Make it special, make it good.” Her voice is encouraging. “A mortal is lucky to be doing this, even once.” And with that her body slides forward on your own, and you are immediately enveloped in the flesh of the flying demon.

Warmth coats your shaft as it is forced into the woman’s body, and you can feel flesh and moisture rippling and quivering around your muscle as you hold it inside of her form. The woman makes no sound but puts her free hand back onto your shoulder, kneading it with support and gently rocking back and forth on her place about your lap. Her wings beat without effort and without pause, and for the first time you can truly feel the force of the wind as you fly through the air. Suddenly you seem to be traveling at high speeds through the darkened sky, and a chill courses up your body as the waves of cold air get into your shirt to bite your flesh.

Morrigan is now riding upon you as any woman would be in the position, bouncing hard up and down on top of your flesh while her fingernails grip deep into the cloth of your thin t-shirt. The folds around her sex waver and bend around your shaft, and as she goes onto you again and again you can hear the sound of moisture being rearranged, forced into areas that are currently unoccupied as the previous vacancy was quickly being filled. Your shaft pulsates inside of the woman’s near-heavenly sex, and before long the noise of her flesh slapping to yours can be heard, much louder than before.

You close your eyes, and throw your head back as your mouth opens to moan in pleasure. The woman accompanies you with a low groan of her own, and before long the two of you share an extended grouping of noises and sounds, as you fly through the air spreading a message of unadulterated lust.

Moisture begins to collect around your pole, and your pole intensifies as you feel the strange sensation. You can feel the sides of your manhood stretching out the walls of the narrow-built Morrigan, and her insides squeeze tight upon you, as if the body was trying to reject something that was too big to be accepted. Your sex refuses to acknowledge this; however, and after a moment’s time the clench becomes weaker, and you are allowed to increase the pace with which you thrust.

For a moment Morrigan released your chain and throws both arms around your neck, and simultaneously you can feel her muscular, though thin legs wrap up around your waist. She grips to you firmly and begins to thrust down harder, and with her mouth so close to your ears you can hear her sounds more clearly and audibly.

“Mmm, yes...” Her voice is low and lusty, and she accompanies the words with a lick along your earlobe. “Do it, mortal...do it...” Her mouth then closes upon your ear, and you can feel tiny teeth nibbling at the flesh. As she continues to thrust to you her fingertips press deep into the muscles on your back, and at once you feel a tiny pang of pain upon the side of your head, as if something sharp pierced the end of your earlobe. You can then feel the woman’s tongue coursing back and forth over the pained area, followed by a slow suction while her lips pucker around the wound. Her saliva trails over your ear and down the length of your neck, and you moan from the sloppy way with which she kisses at your body.

You can feel a bit of discomfort from the long heels of her boots, which poke down into your thighs as she keeps her legs wrapped taught around you. But despite the pain in your thighs and your wrists, and the prick in your ear, the feeling you are experiencing is the greatest you have ever felt.

Suddenly your direction turns, and before you know it you are speeding towards the ground, still while thrusting into the tender valley of the woman. The sound of her wings beating hard and furious is all you can now hear, and though fear rips through your body pleasure quickly destroys it’s worry. The woman’s mouth leaves your ear, and as she speeds towards the ground with you the feel of her tongue on the base of your neck is felt. Slowly it trails up your flesh, following the exact same trail that saliva fell down along your skin just as she suckled at your ear. You moan at the pleasure, and at the thought of a woman as beautiful as her being so crazed with lust that she recollects her own saliva to make sure she swallows every drop of the moment. Before long she has collected it all, and licks a few more times along the base of your earlobe before finally speaking, in hushed, panting terms.

“Now, mortal...!” Her sex pulsates and thrusts even harder on your shaft, and with a powerful motion you can feel the woman’s entire body tremble; quaking and quivering with a force that you have never felt before. Her sex intensifies around your sex and tightens its grip harder than you had ever felt, and from it’s coil your own climax was pulled. Unable to control yourself you shoot up into the woman who rides upon you, and your body convulses and empties it’s tension into the narrow and still pulsing valley. You moan and pant, and throw your head back as the last bit of your seed fills itself in Morrigan’s body, and for the first time you realize the danger of your situation. Now no more than one hundred feet down, the city’s asphalt lies beneath you, and your speed is only increasing. At seventy five feet you attempt to get the attention of your courier, and at fifty you do so again, both times to the reaction of her ignoring you. At twenty five the woman leans in close once more, and sticks her tongue once again inside your ear before whispering, with lust and with passion.

“Thanks for givin’ me what I want.”

After she says the words she speeds up, and her great black wings flap with a sound nearly booming to your fragile ears. At ten feet you scream aloud, and your eyes close, once again afraid for your life. Right before the two of you make impact she turns up once again, and upon her turn her grip of you releases. You fall to the ground with a loud, but painless crash, and as you fly through the air to the asphalt the shackles holding your wrists break away. You shake your head, and look up from where you flew from, but already the visage of the woman is a speck, flying towards the bright night moon. You quickly rush to your feet and readjust your pants, and you watch as her form disappears into the night sky.

Absently your hand trails up to the ear she was so intent on loving, and your fingers slip alongside the trail she had so hungrily licked. Taking your hand down again you can see your fingers are lightly smeared with blood, your blood, rich and red and freshly drawn. You look up to the sky once more, and your hand trails down to wipe the blood on the cloth of your jeans.

A little blood for a chance to fly...and a little pain for a chance to play.

You put your hands inside your pockets, and go about the walk home. It was a nice transaction and you got a good deal, but a shower certainly sounds good.