Gabrielle and the Devil

By Jake Malden

Gabrielle D'Angelo is troubled by an apocalyptic dream in which she resists sexual submission to the Devil himself. Her friend Pandora reads into it a need for Gabrielle to abandon her puritan morals, if only for a single night. Together the girls attend a Halloween costume party with a reputation for crazed decadence. There the angel Gabrielle will encounter a suave horned seducer - red-skinned, with a nice line in chat. Is his presence there a set-up arranged by Pandora? Or is Gabrielle about to be ensnared by something darker, something which will force her to confront her deepest, most infernal desires?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jake Malden
• Release date: Aug 6, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301664764

Jake Malden

Jake Malden is a freelance journalist and writer based in London. He has been experimenting with erotica both on the page and off for some years and has several titles available on Smashwords, the most recent of which is 'Gabrielle and the Devil'. His first full-length novel, 'The Tempting of Neely J', will be available later this summer.

Book preview

Gabrielle and the Devil

by

Jake Malden

Published by Jake Malden at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 Jake Malden

Cover Design: April M.Reign

Stock photos were supplied as follows:

The Devil – 123ff

The Angel – Deposit Photos

By the same author:

The Jared Effect

Copyright 2012 Jake Malden

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be sold or given away to others. If you would like to share this book with someone else, please purchase an additional copy for that person. You may not reproduce this work, in part or in its entirety, without the express written permission of the author.

Jake Malden is a part-time writer, hoping to make the creation of exciting erotic fiction his full-time profession. If you enjoy this ebook, please help him in achieving this goal.

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Prologue

She crouched perfectly still, staring down at the hard cracked earth, remembering nothing yet somehow knowing all. Far above and beyond her, horrific otherworldly screams vied with bellows of warlike rage. She was bruised and defeated―still whole, but laid low as in some cataclysmic struggle. And she was naked. The garments of which she had been stripped in battle were straggling across the wind-blown earth in the periphery of her vision, a ruin of sundered white cloth. All that shielded her bared flesh from the roaring creatures wheeling high above her was a great feathered canopy, a canopy fused in bone to her shoulder-blades.

She raised her head, folding the dense appendages close over her exposed back and buttocks, and gazed across the vast fire-scorched plain. Far off she could see other crumpled forms, wings struggling feebly in final attempts to ward off their standing attackers. Further beyond, the glowering red sun was split by the horizon as it sank for the final time on Earth. The turbulent sky was darkening into brooding umber, though she could still pick out the dread sight of further great-winged monsters circling the carnage and roaring out their victory. Hope was dead. All left for the survivors was their dark fate.

This was not the foretold end. This was not what the Scriptures had promised. To be left crushed and deserted on this desolate dried-up field…

She heard it first, a base animal snorting that resonated all about her. Then the shadow fell across her face, all but casting her into night. Slightly turning her head she saw them, a pair of great cloven hooves, one grinding into the dust. She knew with the same surety by which she understood all else that it was Him. And among the horror was a faint, sinful glimmer of pride that he had come for her in person. She looked up and up―she could do no other―taking in his brute form. All his beautiful angelic disguise was dispelled in this, his moment of lustful, vainglorious conquest.

Her conqueror. Giant above her, towering nine feet, less a minotaur in aspect, more a terrifying cross-bred fusion of man and bull. The bulging haunches, the massively muscled chest, the rope-like sinews on his neck―all straining beneath a hide like thick dark-red leather. Great black horns curled outwards from his forehead and his eyes burned out of his cruel, swarthy face as if fuelled from some interior furnace.

Her conqueror―but not utterly if she resisted him. He could overwhelm her physically, but inside herself she must not succumb to him, to the mastery of his hellish presence. To the focal point of her rising, fascinated horror―the great phallus which rose from his loins like a sabre. Her eyes fixated on its mighty, thick-veined curve as it swayed in front of her face, more terrible and awe-inspiring than any weapon he might have used to subdue her in the air. His balls hung down between his massive thighs like huge granite eggs. She could almost smell the sulphurous brew within them.

He threw back his head and uttered a long, guttural roar, his forked, serpentine tongue thrashing the air. Then with the same whip-like motion, the long thick muscle lashed downwards, its twin tendrils lighting on her sternum. She gasped sharply and held back the air in her lungs, as his tongue slithered upwards between her breasts over the extended curve of her neck to her chin’s tip. It flickered briefly, sickeningly at her lips, before retracting like reverse-lightening all the way inside his mouth.

Then he reached out a mighty taloned