Work we despise is drudgery; work we care for, that is our purpose.
The spa, if it could be called that, served only to tickle Ilias’ sensibilities. A wide, rectangular basin yawned before her, perfectly clear waters shimmering with wisps of steam. There was no sand, thankfully, but widely spaced steps, beckoning her to a leisure stroll into the depths.
An ordinary idea, executed with extraordinary means. The same crystalline architecture bloomed here, not a hint of restraint in the design. Fanciful little islands dotted the massive pool, sloping waterfalls snaked their way along the edges, and to Ilias’ amusement, there were trees. Not in any traditional way, rather, they served to hold smaller pools upon their massive branches, giving the flighty angels all sorts of heights to dip in and out of.
“I believe you said this was a spa, Eden,” the Goddess remarked, glancing sideways.
“… Technically, it is.” A few feathers from one of her wings rubbed her chin. “At least one part?”
They walked down from the entrance, coming to the edge of the almost ocean-like construct. Giggling angels, as naked as them, passed by on the walkway, waving and bowing to their superiors. Ilias spared them a smile, her eyes drawn more to the ceiling she still has not seen the end of.
“Was this built to house Wormiel?” she mused aloud. A voice answered in place of Eden, one with a resonance that rattled the very soul.
“Her and the others,” it said in its deep, throaty way. “Though it still is only large enough to be somewhat comfortable.”
Ilias and Eden’s ears wiggled at the sound, their gazes drawn to the pool ahead. The steamy air twisted in on itself, pin-prick holes in space-time drawing the wispy streams inside. Reality bent inward, a crinkle sheet of people in something’s unfathomable hand. It tore open soundlessly as long, arachnid limbs peeked through, pulling themselves into their part of existence.
Four legs, altogether almost as large as the spa itself, pulled open the rift between them. The angel behind them came forward, half of her titanic spider body coming to rest on the spacious steps, and indeed, a good deal of the pool in front of them. Sunlight glimmered off her platinum exoskeleton, refracting in the tiny etchings of iconography that covered it.
“Dindalus,” Ilias greeted, her wings perking up. The humanoid part of the angel, whom sat on the spider body as a queen would her throne, bowed her dome covered head in turn.
“Our Goddess. Has our work pleased you?”
“Very. I’ve never seen crystal shaped in this way before, how did you come about it?”
Dindalus’ three fingered, clawed hand scratched at her cheek bashfully. “W-well, we were tired of using mere stone. There was nothing in Heaven we had not seen, but not in the mortal world.” The spider angel’s humanoid arms moved with her legs, gesturing to a nondescript piece of the crystalline floor. “There is a lot of this buried in the earth! It grows, too, unlike stone which is compressed. So we …”
“Here I thought she’d be upset over how much of her last work was destroyed,” Ilias commented under her breath, the almost ecstatic angel continuing unabated.
“With how much she destroys on her own, I suspect she may not care as much,” Eden remarked.
Though she kept track of Dindalus’ monologue, Ilias waited for a break to butt in. “Could you use this technique,” she asked, drawing the spider angel’s attention, “for the rest of Heaven’s reconstruction?”
Tapping at her helmed head, Dindalus swayed from side to side, an air of indecisiveness about her. “Higher purity crystals take longer; it would be slow to use for all of Heaven. Very slow, several centuries, at least … No, no. Common roads do not need such quality—oh, but it bothers us so.”
“But it is feasible?”
The enormous angel sighed, her breath ruffling Eden and Ilias’ hair. “Yes, only a question of logistics. Tedious, so very, very tedious …”
“Thank you for working so hard, Dindalus.” Ilias smiled at her despite the grumbling.
Scratching the back of her head, Dindalus looked upward, her fleshy cheeks blushing. “We love to do so. But, we must go, the Living Tribunes have asked for us in the cafeteria.”
“Them? Why?” Eden asked, frowning.
“They have discovered something called ‘spit roasting’, and require our assistance.”
Ilias and Eden glanced at each other from the corner of their eyes, their faces perfectly neutral.
“Please, enjoy our spa we have made for you.” Dindalus bowed, and the angel withdrew, her enormous legs and body sliding back into the dimensional rift. Reality reasserted back to its normal self, as much as it could in Heaven, and steamy air filled the void left behind.
“I feel we should warn her,” Eden remarked with a musing tone.
“Ehh.” Ilias’ golden wing waved back and forth indecisively. “She needs a break; you know how much she hates not working.” The Goddess hid a smile in Eden’s direction. “It reminds me of another angel, truly.”
“Ah, shall we visit the water?” Eden offered, gesturing with her arm and three wings. “It looks like quite inviting.”
She’d left Eden off easy this time, at least. The two of them strolled out onto the big steps, warm water rushing to greet their feet. With Dindalus’ departure, Ilias could finally see all the others lounging about, hanging on the high pools, swimming in the grand one, or even just floating in the air. Most looked enviously lazy in their relaxation, one she was surprisingly eager to join them in.
Taking the lead, Ilias drew her hand out of Eden’s, turning as she did. For a brief, beautiful moment, the tips of their fingers touched, Eden wide-eyed and wondrous, and then Ilias was out of her reach. The Goddess fell backward onto the now chest-high water, throwing her gold wings open as she splashed down.
Wet warmth spilled over her, inviting the Goddess in deeper. Just at the precipice of being hot, the pool’s waters perfect temperature to sit in. Ilias, however, found too much entertainment in doing the backstroke. “Come, Eden! You can swim, can’t you?”
Her words jarred the angel awake, and that confident smile of her general came beaming out. Eden strode forward, the tiny jiggle of her body an inviting sight with her confident motion. In one smooth, arcing display, she dived forward with all the grace of a professional, and disappeared under the water.
“Hm?” Ilias looked under herself, watching Eden and her six wings stroke by underneath. Twisting around, she found the seraph surfacing a little bit ahead of her. Two, then four, and then six wings all breaching into the air, that splendorous back on full display. Ilias’ crystal blue eyes watched in rapt fascination at the sparkling display, whose end came much less elegantly than it began.
“Swim? I believe I can,” Eden yelled over her shoulder, grinning.
Surely her cocky aura and flagrant display was a tease? Maybe a taunt? Ilias wagered that was worth a century of spanking on Eden’s sexy butt, at least.
The flaunting angel dipped back into the water, heading further into the great spa. Ilias, with a playful frown, swung her golden wings and shot after her. A girlish squeal of alarm escaped Eden when she looked over her shoulder, the Goddess all too close to grabbing her foot.
With a heave, Eden hurried forward, her six wings giving her quite the advantage in speed. Ilias never relented, chasing the splashing angel with a wicked glint to her eye. Neither of them paid much attention to the angels around them peeping on the show, a murmur of conversation arising.
By the time Ilias grabbed that slippery ankle and yanked Eden to a stop, they were atop the deepest part of the spa. The seraph slid into her arms, that curvaceously soft body molding to hers. “Aha,” Ilias gloated, smiling.
“You are too fast for me, Your Grace.” Eden bowed, her wings lowering with her submissive defeat. That did not stop her hands from wrapping around the Goddess, nor how she eagerly squeezed to her. “Please, have mercy on this angel.”
“Mercy? For what wrong?” Ilias wondered aloud, elfish ears perked upward.
Neither of them paid any attention to the dark shadow in the water below.
“Perhaps such a presumptuous angel needs … discipline?” Ilias reached around with one hand, sliding over Eden’s warmly soft hips to her butt. She enjoyed grabbing her a little too much, a tiny thrill coming up at how Eden tried to offer more for her fingers. “One wonders why you would swim so fast away from your Goddess.”
“I am merely enjoying this wide, expansive spa, Your Grace,” Eden defended, rolling her hips invitingly. She slipped her legs around Ilias’ thigh in the process, pressing her mound flush to the divine woman’s thigh. “But, if You have need of me, I shall be most glad to help.”
“Need, Eden?” Ilias asked airily, her other hand slipping out from the water and to the seraph’s face. Those cooler blue eyes followed along, flicking from her and back to her hand as it came to rest against Eden’s face. “I’ve need, certainly, but it’s vast and beyond almost any other.”
To have those soft cheeks, yet strong, defined bones against her palm, it pleased Ilias. She took in the angel’s soft skin with her palm, smiling as her dutiful general leaned in, offering more of herself as she always did
“Almost?” Eden whispered, her wings fluttering.
“Almost,” Ilias repeated as she slid her thumb down to Eden’s bottom lip, teasing it with just the tip. “I can think of a certain blue eyed angel in my arms who might work.”
A snort answered back. “Might?”
“It’d be difficult after all, I am a Goddess.” Ilias leaned in, their noses pressing against one another, and she captured Eden’s gaze with her own. “But someone worthy of being a First Seraph could do it, I think.”
For as romantic as she was trying to be, Ilias had to choke down her laugh. A dreamy eyed look overtook Eden in an instant and she wouldn’t be surprised if little stars shot out. “Mmm, yes, definitely a First, but it’d be a lot of hard, sweaty work.”
“Oh, anything, Your Grace, anything at all.”
“Will you two just fuck already?” a large, dreary voice demanded, and a slew of horrified gasps farther away followed.
Their heads snapped to the side, and all too suddenly they remembered where they were. The dreadfully dark face of an angel hung next to them, almost within kissing distance, staring with those bored, eye-shadowed eyes of hers. Cobalt-scaled snakes slithered about in the same colored hair, aimlessly looking and hissing around at nothing in particular.
One would mistake this angel’s six plastic-gold wings and winged ears as a seraph’s, but only if they relied on what their eyes saw. In spite of her own incredible power, the newcomer was barely a flutter in the wind to Eden’s galactic radiance.
“… Archangel Ranael,” Ilias and Eden greeted in unison.
“I’m trying to rest and this pussy teasing show is going on right in front of me,” Ranael grumbled as she rose up. A large angel in her own right, not just in sheer size, her titanic bosom was more than capable of giving quite the mouth full to either of them. One of the many slithering, pink tentacles of her left arm rubbed her forehead. “It’s enough to make an angel pin a cutie down and fuck the soul right out of her.”
As elegant as always.
The naked angels, all who sat in the water, air, or even on Ranael herself, giggled and waved invitingly. “Me first, Ranny!” one called out, hanging off the archangel’s venus-flytrap of a right arm. The cavernous maw twitched at her movement, but remained shut.
“I’ll get to you later,” Ranael said with a sigh, her heaving chest sending little waves in the water.
Ilias looked toward Eden, the seraph doing much the same, and they shared a look. Not a word passed between them, but they each rubbed each other’s butts and smiled. Though she didn’t want to part so soon, Ilias let go and swam to Ranael’s right side while Eden took the left.
The archangel, mid-yawn, caught onto their movement, and her lava-red eyes were all the more perturbed. “Eh?”
“How’re you feeling, Ranael?” Ilias asked, a touch of sweetness to her voice. She pressed against the venus-flytrap, hugging her bosom to its closed, if twitching mouth.
“You have not been working since Her Grace reconstituted you, have you?” Eden asked next, slithering her way inside the mass of tentacle arms. The pink, nubby headed and toothless things wrapped around her, already kissing and sucking at her skin of their own volition.
Looking back and forth, despite her size and intimidating aura, one would say Ranael was the prey being cornered. An understanding dawned on her dreadfully serious face, one that only an angel with eons of servitude in Heaven would appreciate.
“Oh, yes,” Ilias and Eden sang together. They pushed on the large angel, dragging her with them as they spied a little crystalline island not too far away. Half the platform laid submerged, the other just above the waterline, smooth and perfect to lay on.
“Be gentle,” Ranael requested, a little more flush in the face despite her bored tone. “I’m still sore when I walk.”
“Ladies? You all heard her?” Ilias asked the gathered angels, a good dozen or so edging to get in closer; the first ones who would play in the Goddess’ little game. They nodded, smiles and kissy lips puckering in anticipation.
“We’re going to have so much fun Ranny!” the one from earlier chimed, shaking her small breasts invitingly.
“Yeah, how come you were sleeping at the bottom like that?” another asked, sounding almost hurt. It might’ve worked if she wasn’t eying the archangel’s chest so hungrily.
“Should’ve kept my mouths shut,” Ranael grumbled under her breath. “Stay under water, nice and quiet.”
Ilias’ ear twitched, but she only reached out with her hand, soothingly rubbing Ranael’s belly.
Between her and Eden, they hoisted the archangel up onto the little island. Much of Ranael’s lower half and its bulbous, writhing mass of tree-trunk sized tentacles splayed out into the water still. Ilias’ gaze slid over their purplish flesh, slick just short of slimy, and their toothless suckers grasping at nothing in particular.
It’d be nice to get lost in those, wouldn’t it? Her finger poked her lip in thought, but a curious sound drew her attention away. A sharp inhale, followed by a moan that was a little too sultry. Eden, as she found her, was quite enthralled with the pink, tentacle sucklers of Ranael’s left arm.
“You complain, Archangel,” Eden breathed, rolling her hips as two particularly thick tendrils slithered up and down between her legs. “But you do not want for excitement!”
“I’d slap anyone who’d resist a woman like you.”
Ilias, and quite a few of the others with her, ogled the utterly perverted sight before them. Ranael’s many tiny suckler tendrils ensnared Eden, slithering and wriggling across the angel’s fair skin. Most became living ropes, restraining her eagle spread in the air, others feasting upon her with little kisses and suckling bites.
Eden’s whole body and six wings bounced to the tendrils delving inside of her. The plump lips of her womanhood splayed open, an inviting wetness spilling out with each suckling plunge. Another worked beneath it, pushing and withdrawing in a tandem dance with the seraph’s bubbly butt as its inviting mate.
Few could sit within such a writhing mass and still look all the more powerful for having done so. Ilias found Eden’s taunting eyes as her gaze crawled up, the tendrils keeping pace. They wrapped themselves around those heaving breasts, in a tight, undulating massage, one meant to prepare.
“Come now, Ranael,” Eden enthused, a smirk pointed at Ilias all the same. Her next words turned to a gasp as billowy tentacles slapped themselves to her nipples, their gaping mouths fixating to them as teats for their hunger. The seraph bowed back, thrusting her chest forward in doing so, inviting more to feast on her naked breasts. “I-it has been so long. Surely you will not, ahm, disappoint?”
“Even as I am, I’ll leave you quivering like any mortal girl,” Ranael promised, a throatily dark purr to her already deep voice. “How silly to let snakes into your garden.”
“Ahh-haha.” Eden’s polite laugh muddied in a jolting moan as tendrils wrapped around her neck. They too spread to her wings, worming amongst the fears as roots on a tree might. “I yearn for the satisfaction, then,” Eden said, her eyes dragging to Ilias’ on that one word. The tendril that wrapped her throat came to her face, its bulbous head peeling open for the fleshy tongue inside.
Licking her lips in a slow, savoring motion, Eden opened her mouth, her own tongue stuck out invitingly. The tendril collapsed in a heartbeat, sealing its mouth against hers, and sending the seraph’s head falling backward. Both sucked and kissed with an enthusiasm so fierce Ilias couldn’t quite tell who was in control, if either really was.
Had her ever loyal, attentive, conniving, and lovable general not dared to tease her, the Goddess might’ve let her have her fun. The sight had made her wish she’d been mindful enough to take Ranael’s left side instead …
Feeling flush, and with a pleasant buzz between her legs, Ilias turned away from Eden’s resplendently perverted display. She shimmied over to Ranael, the archangel too occupied to notice until their faces were close together. Her dreadfully dreary face, contorted with a lustful grin, froze at the Goddess’ beaming smile.
“Oh, Ranael,” Ilias sang, her hand drifting to one of her overly large ear wings. The tiny snakes in the archangel’s hair nipped at her fingers with reverent kisses. “You’ll be careful with Eden, won’t you?”
“O-of course, my Goddess,” the archangel rumbled, a tremble racing down her body at Ilias’ touch.
She was always one of the smarter angels Ilias worked with.
The Goddess grinned and leaned over, kissing those large lips with her own. It quickly turned into Ranael suckling upon her whole mouth, the archangel’s larger size all too useful to her. Ilias withdrew as a hint of tongue started to emerge, the lower half of her face pleasantly wet and thrumming with heat.
“Pace yourself, Ranael,” Ilias chided gently, drawing one finger across the angel’s cheek. Those lava-red eyes stared into hers, the faintest hint of pink at the edges. “And let me reward your hard work.”
That same finger went to Ranael’s lips, prying her mouth open. A large, flat tongue peeked out, its forked tips seeking her hand as a wanton puppy might. Ilias dipped down and gave it a kiss, rolling her tongue between those forked tips teasingly. Just as it sought entry, she pulled away once more, Ranael whining in her throat with unintentional cuteness.
“Oh, it’s no mere kiss, my strong archangel.” Ilias grinned and sat up. She winked, and with a quick flap to open her wings, rose up upon them. A simple maneuver, but one with all impossible grace, and the Goddess landed onto Ranael’s belly softly. Her brows wiggled at the archangel’s incredulous look and she almost laughed when Ranael sat back with a huff.
“But I like kissing,” the large angel grumbled, the snakes in her hair nipping at the empty air.
Ilias hummed in an encouraging way, idly looking around. Two angels fastened to Ranael’s breasts, suckling happily upon her nipples, while many others were entangled her in lower body. An angel each took one of the octopus arms, greedily using it as much as it used her in turn. Others lavished upon Ranael’s many wings, and what few couldn’t get to the archangel, tended to each other in eager anticipation.
All this attention and she’s just sitting there? the Goddess marveled. No, I can’t abide that.
Shifting her weight, Ilias changed to straddling Ranael’s belly, her legs spread wide and open. Amidst her preparation, she felt Eden’s eyes upon her, and a quick glanced confirmed it. For however occupied the seraph was, she was still ever wrapped up in keeping pace.
Two birds with one stone.
The Goddess nearly patted herself on the back with such a fantastic idea. A lesser being might even call it divinely inspired.
Leaning backward, Ilias propped herself up with one hand while the other groped blindly behind on Ranael. Soft skin and wet, slick octopus flesh and the curious melding point between both met her probing fingers. She knew she was straddling right about where the angel’s hips would be, and as long as she—
A throaty inhale escaped the archangel as Ilias’ hand found an inward dip. Delightfully soft, plump lips of a most different kind graced her exploring fingers, a sticky wetness soon coating them. Ilias grinned as the large angel trembled underneath her, those taut belly muscles flexing between her legs.
“Goodness, Ranael,” Ilias cooed with faux surprise. “You must be aching.”
“Your touch is a relief to have, my Goddess.” The archangel rolled her hips, chasing after Ilias’ hand.
Suppressing a grin, Ilias coyly slid her hand on the outskirts of Ranael’s vagina. The big, puffy pussy lips molded beneath her just-so-gently pressing fingers, and the archangel trembled with every swipe of her fingers. Ranael squirmed in tiny half twists, her tendril legs squeezing the unsuspecting angels harder, drawing surprised squeals from them.
The tentacle mouths surrounding Eden tightened, their sensual caress more of a vice grip now as they held her nearby. The seraph’s cool eyes met her own, and Ilias’ ears twitched as she fought to keep from laughing in earnest. Twisting and pressing her three fingers together, Ilias slid them to the heart of Ranael’s wet folds, the bulging inner lips soft against her tips. They snuggly wrapped around her as a living velvet, pulling with a lustful desire to drag her fingers to her very knuckles.
She very well meant to slip in ever so slowly, but Ranael’s hips bucked, and a good half of her hand sank into the huge archangel. With a thoughtful hum, Ilias withdrew, flexing her fingers in a gentle stroke as she left. “Patience, Ranael,” she chastised, splaying her hand over the angel’s pussy, her middle finger teasing the soft velvet entrance.
“Hnngh, fuck.” Ranael’s grunt rumbled in the air, the angels squealing as her tendrils tightened more. “This is just making me hungry … Aphrolilly!”
An angel’s head popped out of her large, venus-flytrap arm, covered in juices. “Yes, Ranny?”
A squeal tore out of her as the lips of the flytrap shut tightly on her. “Come here,” the archangel commanded darkly, lifting the petite angel over her face. The flytrap’s maw peeled opened, and Aphrolilly came sliding out, slowly landing on Ranael’s mouth, pussy first.
“Aww, but your arm is so fu-fuunn!”
The ecstatic gasp that followed drifted into the air, one more loving note in the rising chorus of the angels around her, their supple bodies and lustful souls answering to Ranael’s. And yet—Ilias’ eyes flicked to Eden—this would not be the place for them. She could stand to punish Eden a little bit.
With her wings supporting her, all the other angels were far too busy to notice her game. Ilias absently stroked at Ranael’s ever wettening vagina, teasing her folds open, dipping a finger inside, just enough to rile up the angel. Her tempo mirrored in the archangel’s squirming and twitching, and Ilias danced with her, rolling her hips and torso in a wave.
Riding back and forth, Ilias’ skin prickled from Eden’s gaze. The sucker tentacles were all the more hungry upon the seraph, yet in no way Ilias knew to be completely satisfying anymore. The Goddess stretched casually, lifting her chest up a little more, her legs spreading a tiny bit more open. All very casual, and all quite angled for Eden’s viewing pleasure.
Even the hand on her belly, sliding down her taut skin to the dip between her legs. She paused at the tuft of white hair on her mound, soft and fine to a degree that was inhumanly impossible. Her own waiting heat teased her fingers through her soft hair as they slowly inched downward still. Alas, poor Eden.
The seraph looked about ready to burst, all tied up in Ranael’s tentacles.
Ilias shivered with a tinge of excitement at the sight; a running, electric feeling from the back of her neck and right to her belly. The gasps and moans of the angels around them rose higher, half-intelligible words and pleas slipping out. Their need thickened in the air, beckoning for her to join them. Ilias’ smile played across her lips, widening as her fingers just began to tease her outer folds.
Would you like a peek? she wondered with wicked delight, two fingers spread ready. The Goddess rubbed back and forth, edging to her own faint wetness as much as prying herself apart. Not enough to fulfill either, but certainly ones that got Eden’s wings fluttering. The seraph twisted and turned at her little show, trapped in the prison she built for herself.
How flustered you must be, dear Eden.
Dipping her index finger inside herself, she shuddered all the way to her wings. One long, slow drag parted her with such an enjoyably pointed hardness, but so unfulfilling. She withdrew, a glistening wetness to her fingertip, and brought it to her lips. Parting them, she bit down on her finger, mindful to keep her lips and tongue from it.
She caught her seraph’s eyes, and wiggled her brows with a seductively mocking curl. Though she didn’t care for it, she closed her mouth around her finger, making a grand show of suckling it clean as she pulled out. Could her general blush anymore, deep in her own red arousal? The Goddess wondered how much more she could wring out of her.
At least, until Eden started falling toward her.
Ilias blinked, uncertain if she was seeing things until the angel smacked right into her. Pain was illusionary for them, but surprise was quite real, and she found herself stupefied and squished under Eden. The seraph, freed of her restraints somehow, clung to her, squeezing as close as possible.
A hot mouth, with an invasive tongue, silenced Ilias. Eden kissed her as hard and fast as she could, its own thrilling reward. Half of her preened for the attention, the other still bewildered. She barely had her thoughts together as the ground beneath them—rather, Ranael—shifted violently. In a great, gravity pulling lurch, the archangel thrust herself upright, and the two of them went hurtling away.
“You slutty fucking angels!” Ranael roared, and a chorus of orgasmic squeals followed just before Ilias dunked into the water.
Hot water and bubbles swirled around her, a mess of limbs and feathers obscuring her sight. Ilias pulled herself together, orienting herself in quick order, and swam up. Her head popped out of the water just as Eden’s did, the two of them looking at one another incredulously. She gently plucked her now very wet hair off her face, awkwardly combing back behind her pointed ears.
Ilias pivoted and looked back to Ranael, only to find the archangel awoken in proper. With her left arm tentacles free, Ranael captured quite a few the unattended angels that had loitered around her. Aphrolilly was suddenly plastered face first into her loins while her tendrils and tentacles sought to feast upon her new prey. While Ranael’s aura was a tad dim still, the fierce warrior Ilias knew to be there had been kindled again.
Oh, good, that all seemed to have worked.
Pleased at the results, a hand sliding across her jaw caught Ilias by surprise. She turned toward its owner, finding Eden’s face close enough their noses bumped. Her breath caught in her throat at the seraph’s pointed gaze, her pupils constricted to a fine, hair trigger intent.
“Your Grace,” the seraph whispered, licking her lips afterward. “I have somewhere special for You to see.”
“Somewhere quiet, I hope?”
“Very, just for the two of us.”
“Do lead on then, my seraph.”
Such a simple way to excite Eden, yet Ilias enjoyed her slight shudder all the same. The seraph took her hand with a surprising casualness, and Ilias found it in herself to forgive it as she was guided away. The two of them swam at Eden’s rather hurried pace, the sounds of lewd cries and squelching tentacles fading behind them.