Date: Sun, 13 Jun 2004 20:37:12 -0300
From: Ruthless <ruthless@nbnet.nb.ca>
Subject: "Marplot" (Part 3)

	Doris was at her post the next time I went to Hell. She was peering
at the screen of her computer terminal. I helped myself to a warm cookie
from the plate on the corner of her desk. There was a large black male
sheep tied up in one corner of the room. It had great big curling horns and
it turned around to give me a baleful look from its yellow eyes.

	"Doris," I groaned. "Ever have the kind of week that makes you
want to give up and howl?"

	"You mean, like this week, for example?" She asked. There were
scorch marks in the plastic on the side of her screen. I could tell she had
been glaring at it.

	"I've had some difficult assignments before," I complained, "But
this one is a lulu. You know what this guy wants? He wants a relationship!
He said it to me straight out. Anybody he sleeps with, he said, he's going
to consider a friend."

	"If you blessed tell me that I have to reboot you again..." Doris
muttered.

	I paused. Doris had just said "blessed". Technically the word
wasn't a swear word, but even mildly strong language like that just wasn't
like Doris. I realized that I didn't have her complete attention but I went
on anyway. "Hasn't the guy ever heard of debauchery? Of furtive
gropings? Of quick, grubby, impersonal sex? Doesn't he know that when
strangers fuck it's exploitive?"

	"Probably." Said Doris, without looking up.

	"I've got the body of his dreams." I said crossly, "And Mr.
Thomas Niles wants to know my name. He wants to consider me his
friend. He wants to turn me on! That son-of-hell-hag is nice! You hear
me? He's nice!" I spat out the unpleasant word. "I can't get him to think of
sex in terms of pain and filth and exploitation!"

	"Rape him then."

	I gave her a withering look but she didn't glance up and see it. "I
don't think that'll work." I said glumly. "He hasn't shown any sign of
secretly wanting to be forced into it. He's eager instead."

	"What do you mean, "Field not valid"?" Doris said in a warning
tone. "Those fields are valid. I just set up the parameters exactly the way
the help file said I was supposed to! I'll Field not valid, you, you heap of
electronic..." Her teeth clenched and the snakes on her head began to rear
up swaying.

	The ram in the corner bleated in alarm. "Is that program not
working yet?" I asked tentatively.

	Doris shot a look at me that made my eyebrows vanish. The smell
of burnt hair overpowered the smell of fresh-baked cookies. "I guess not."
I said hurriedly. "No, I think maybe it takes awhile to figure it out. You
could get one of the damned souls to help you maybe, or something. Yes,
maybe that would make an ideal eternal torment and solve your problem.
What do you think?"

	"Getting the system set up is only half the problem." Doris bared
her teeth at me in a hot smile. "Do you know how many living souls there
are in the world above at present?"

	"Uh, about two billion?" I hazarded.

	"And do you know how many people there are in all history who
passed away unshriven with their sins still upon them?"

	"More than two billion?" I tried.

	"Than can you conceive of the extent of the date entry project
that's going to be required to get a file on each and every damned one of
them into this database!!?" She rose to her full height of seven feet, eleven
inches. She hit a key as she rose to her feet. For just an instant I saw her
screen flicker. There was a whine. The computer screen turned a vivid,
pretty shade of blue. Doris whirled back around to face her screen.

	"Jesus Christ Almighty!" She howled. The computer on her desk
ignited and exploded with a bang. I left the sheep to dodge as best as it
could and I got the heaven out of her office. Molten globs of putty-colored
plastic were flying across the room and setting fire to everything they
landed on.


	Thomas Niles and I were lying locked together on his bed. The
room was shimmering with darkness. The sweet scent of midnight flowers
played over us softly when the breeze stirred the curtains. I was pinning
his shoulders with my knees as I lapped and nuzzled on his prick. I was
keeping him from sucking on my prick, which dangled an inch above his
mouth but he was doing intimate, gently invasive things with his fingers
instead. The man was a fast learner.

	"Please." Said Thomas "Please, please let me suck your prick."

	I sent my tongue swirling up and down his shaft before I answered
him, and my words came out a coaxing whisper, muffled by the vibrant
flesh that I was mouthing. "Only if you make me a promise first."

	"What?" he said. "What promise? Please. I'm begging you. What
do you want?" He was craning his neck upward to reach my cock. I felt
his shoulders lifting from the mattress, pressing against my knees.

	"You want to please me, right?"

	"Oh God, Yes. I want to please you. Don't tease me. Suck me. Let
me suck you. What do you want me to do?" He was breathless. His finger,
gently thrusting into my asshole was making me breathless.

	"Promise you'll do what I want. Promise you'll do something to
please me?"

	"What? Oh sweet Jesus, Brendan, what do you want me to do?"

	Put on the spot, the night before I had needed to come up with a
name fast. His dead wife's name was Brenda, and so Brendan, the male
counterpart was all I had been able to think of off the cuff like that.
Luckily he had taken the coincidence as just part of the dream.

	"Promise?" I pursued.

	"Promise you what?"

	"Just promise. Please Thomas. I want to suck your cock so bad.
Promise me yes and we can both suck each other." I said.

	"But what is it you want me to do?" He insisted.

"I can't tell you." I said softly. "Not until you promise you'll do it.
I can't tell you what I want until you make the promise."

"You're asking me for carte blanche." He gasped. He was biting
my thighs. His little blunt human teeth were going bite, bite, bite all along
the inside of my thigh. I had to clench my own teeth and breath hard to
keep from thrusting my cock down to where it too would be caught by
those tantalizing little nips and nibbles. "I can't promise without knowing.
But you can tell me what you want."

"First promise me that you'll do it."

He gave a rending groan. "Oh Brendan. What kind of a game are
you playing with me?"

"Help me, Thomas." I crooned.

For a long moment he lay on his back shuddering. "I really want to
promise you." He said. "I would, but as long as I don't know for sure that
it might be harmful to you or me... I still worry about letting you suck me
off, bare. I know I don't have anything. I know you're only a dream and I
couldn't give you anything even if I had it. But I want to be decent to you,
Dream-Brendan. Can you understand that?"

"This is what I want Thomas." I murmured. "This is what I need."

"Yeah," He gasped. "I think I can guess what you need. It's
something kinky, isn't it?"

I considered for a second, and sent my prick softly wiggling side to
side so that it brushed against his lips. "A little bit kinky." I admitted
softly

"Great!" Thomas said. Humans have NO morals whatsoever.
"Then tell me the specifics and I'm sure we can work something out."

"Uh..." I said.

Thomas reached up and gave me a loving swat on the rear.
"Spanking? Fur? A costume fetish? A little bit of role-play? I may be
damn near a virgin, but I have some idea of the strange things that can turn
a guy on. I haven't been living in a monastery, you know."

"Uh..." I commented. I probably would have come up with a
better come back than that one, but he was so wrong.

His words had made my mind jump back to the thirteen hundreds
when I had once taken the guise of a curly-haired young oblate and
ensnared the soul of a sedate Father Abbott then nearing his fiftieth year
and appointment to a Cardinal of Rome. I remembered the whole thing
vividly, as it had been so recent and a trifle traumatic. The man had laid
me on my back at midnight on the altar of the Cathedral of Turin. He had
pulled open his severe black vestments right there among the flickering
candles and the vast gothic arches and nailed me. That was how I had
nailed him. But I had found the experience vastly uncomfortable.

The altar was a consecrated one of course, and had left great pink
blisters all down my back and butt. I had dragged him off screaming to
hell he instant he was done. I mean, I had been the one doing the
screaming. I hadn't been able to sit down for a decade. I even left my
imprint scorched into the altar cloth. I believe they still have it squirreled
away somewhere at the Vatican.

So kinky was not a new idea to me, but coming from kindly and
friendly Thomas it had thrown me off a bit. I tried to regain control.
"Well..."

"Don't be shy. I won't be judgmental. We can discuss it." He
coaxed.

"No!" I lost control altogether. He was being so reasonable. "I
won't tell you! You won't do it if I tell you. I just want to cum. I want to
make you cum so bad." I wailed. "You taste so good. You smell so good.
It's not fair! Don't I turn you on?"

"Don't you turn me on?" Thomas breathed. "Oh Brendan, my balls
ache so bad. I feel like I haven't cum in a month. I've got a constant hard
on from thinking about you and the dreams I have of you. What you can
do with your tongue!  I think I'm nine-tenths in love with you. I think my
balls are going to explode! But if the price to bring on more dreams about
you and your gorgeous cock and your gorgeous grin is to walk around
with blue balls, then I swear, I'll take a vow of chastity and I'll even give
up jerking off."

I gave a yowl of dismay.  I could just imagine the expression on
Rehtaf Ruo's face when he heard that I had inspired a human to consider a
vow of chastity. No, it was not likely to precisely please him. I have never
actually seen the face of Rehtaf Ruo, of course, since the mere experience,
even when he wasn't annoyed was generally annihilating, but I could
picture it and didn't want to go through with it.

Since chastity was not an option for Thomas, if I wanted to avoid
unfavorable attention from the boss, I dived on Thomas's prick. I took it
all the way into my mouth, down my gullet in a hungry gulp. I had just
enough presence of mind to whisk my own rock hard, pre-cum oozing
cock up out of his reach.

"Oh...! Oh...! Oh...!" He groaned. "You must be an angel. Feels
so good!" He convulsed. He made an ineffectual grab for my prick. I kept
it where he couldn't reach it. Otherwise, I gave him the full treatment.
Lips plucking and sliding slickly, tongue quivering and tantalizing, breath
hot and eager, fingers stroking and savoring.  I drank his cock. It tasted so
good. I rode it up and down, squeezing the head of his cock with a
swallow and playing the shaft like a musical instrument.  I played him
until his over loaded testicles quivered in a tight contraction and the sweet
salty spunk of his delicious human cum jetted up in an uncontrollable
flood.

Great jerks went through Thomas's body. His arms were out-flung
and his head was back. The cum spasms were so strong that they almost
lifted his butt from the bed. Wave after wave went through him. He
collapsed. The waves were still vibrating. His eyes were sealed shut and a
big broad inane smile of bliss was plastered across his mouth. I vanished
while he was still stretched out sandbagged by his gigantic orgasm.

Back to that boot cupboard. Ooh, now my balls were feeling nearly
as blue as Thomas's. I don't know why it is, but watching a human cum
always does it to me. They look so, so... well, depraved is the wrong word
for it. I know depraved should be the right word for it, but it's not. And of
course the right word for it isn't happy. I don't go around making humans
happy. But in that moment when they cum, all their worries and shames
seem to disappear from their faces and they forget what wretched little
lives they lead. Deluded. Yeah, that's the word. I like to see them looking
deluded. I sent my own cum pulsing out onto Thomas's work boots again.



There was a brand new computer on Doris's desk when I sidled
into the front office. I noticed that the foyer was going to need some
extensive renovations soon. Some of the plastic from the old computer had
stuck to the wall and hardened in scorched gray lumps. Despite the carpet
protector under her desk, the secretary's toenails had ripped vast deep
scratches into the sub flooring during some past moment of angry
scrabbling. Charred wisps of paper floated in the drafts of the warm air
like black snow falling upward. The baseboards had been torn out all
along one wall to allow a cable to be run, and the rest of the cable had
been tacked across the wall and ceiling to drape down in untidy loops. The
little red blinking light on the power bar was distracting. The office had
changed a lot.

"What happened to the sheep?" I asked.

"I had to replace the computer and the new one came with enough
RAM." She said briefly.

"Is it working yet?"

"No." Her one word was as infinitely patient as a glacier.

"Umm. I brought you a book." I said. "It might help."

"Marplot," said Doris. "Do you know what the damned soul from
the 1-800 customer service line said to me, when I told him the printer was
sucking in sheets of paper and erasing the ink from them? He told me that
was impossible. He told me to read the manual. I've read the manual, I
told him. I've read the flaming manual. I've read the flaming manual five
times! What Blessed, Holy Savior, Infinite Mercy use is it for me to read
the flaming thing one more time??!" Her voice had risen to a howl. Her
infinite patience was eroding like a glacier during a comet by-pass. The
black ash in the foyer whirled upward faster.

"This book might be a little clearer..." I offered meekly. "It comes
recommended for beginners."

She stretched out a tentacle. The book was yellow. I handed it
over.

"Windows for WHAT?!!" She roared.