DAMIEN
Damien the angel, Hunter of Succubi and Right Hand of God, stretched himself back up to his full six feet, panting as he looked down at his chiselled abdomen, now covered with a fine sheen of sweat.
The blueberry arms of the Easy Life had had him around the shoulders for too long a time now, and he had been getting almost soft.
But now things were going to change.
He hummed a tune to himself as he checked his reflection in the mirror inside his guest quarters. A twinkling, boyish face perched atop a lithe, sinewy body, with a well-formed chest and muscular buttocks to put any Greek God to shame stared back at him. He could have been a footballer in a mortal life. Or a model. Or, like plenty of others, both.
Instead he got a job hunting the dark female demons known as succubi who lived here on Earth, entrapping mortals. Ah well, that job had its perks too.
He had put in long hours preparing for his duty, and his body had repaid him. The flab of the last few days was gone.
He was hard now, and sharp as a rock edge. As this thought came to him, he glanced downwards. An enormous brown stake was erupting from the centre of the forest that covered his crotch.
He smiled fondly at it. Memories of the prizes it had helped him gain flooded back to him, and the thought of the creamy white teats and firm buns it had eaten into once upon a time set it tingling, and it unfurled into a serpentine beast.
But this was no time to Fall. It had been enough doing to convince God to give him his job back after the last time- the umpteenth time he had Fallen- and it would not do to lose control now. The women he would meet in the course of duty today must be treated on an impersonal basis, no matter how alluring they were.
He checked the tablet.
First succubus on the list was a Gabriella Velasquez, and a tip-off put her location... right in the bar opposite.
He put on his clothing, disguising himself as a mortal man, and walked out of the human apartment he had temporarily rented as a base of operations, and into the bar.
Damien the angel, Hunter of Succubi and Right Hand of God, stretched himself back up to his full six feet, panting as he looked down at his chiselled abdomen, now covered with a fine sheen of sweat.
The blueberry arms of the Easy Life had had him around the shoulders for too long a time now, and he had been getting almost soft.
But now things were going to change.
He hummed a tune to himself as he checked his reflection in the mirror inside his guest quarters. A twinkling, boyish face perched atop a lithe, sinewy body, with a well-formed chest and muscular buttocks to put any Greek God to shame stared back at him. He could have been a footballer in a mortal life. Or a model. Or, like plenty of others, both.
Instead he got a job hunting the dark female demons known as succubi who lived here on Earth, entrapping mortals. Ah well, that job had its perks too.
He had put in long hours preparing for his duty, and his body had repaid him. The flab of the last few days was gone.
He was hard now, and sharp as a rock edge. As this thought came to him, he glanced downwards. An enormous brown stake was erupting from the centre of the forest that covered his crotch.
He smiled fondly at it. Memories of the prizes it had helped him gain flooded back to him, and the thought of the creamy white teats and firm buns it had eaten into once upon a time set it tingling, and it unfurled into a serpentine beast.
But this was no time to Fall. It had been enough doing to convince God to give him his job back after the last time- the umpteenth time he had Fallen- and it would not do to lose control now. The women he would meet in the course of duty today must be treated on an impersonal basis, no matter how alluring they were.
He checked the tablet.
First succubus on the list was a Gabriella Velasquez, and a tip-off put her location... right in the bar opposite.
He put on his clothing, disguising himself as a mortal man, and walked out of the human apartment he had temporarily rented as a base of operations, and into the bar.
