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Poem: "The Honeytrap" - The Wordsmith's Forge
The Writing & Other Projects of Elizabeth Barrette
Poem: "The Honeytrap"
This poem was inspired by comments from siliconshaman under the Asexy Valentines Fest poem "Infernal Passion."

This microfunded poem is being posted one verse at a time, as donations come in to cover them. The rate is $.50/line, so $5 will reveal 10 new lines, and so forth. There is a permanent donation button on my profile page, or you can contact me for other arrangements. You can also ask me about the number of lines per verse, if you want to fund a certain number of verses.
So far sponsors include: DW user elliemurasaki, general fund

139 lines, Buy It Now = $69.50
Amount donated = $43
Verses posted = 22 of 38

Amount remaining to fund fully = $26.50
Amount needed to fund next verse = $1.50
Amount needed to fund the verse after that = $1

The Honeytrap

Agrat expected to arrive in a bedroom
and was a bit surprised to arrive in an office,
but all right, some people liked to do it on desks.
The woman at the desk was not doing anything
more active than typing on a keyboard,
yet the air hummed with passion.

Also she was ignoring the stark-naked succubus
with her golden scales and owl talons
and serpentine tail twined around one slim leg.

Agrat cleared her throat.
The woman finally looked at her,
green eyes going wide.

"How would you like to fornicate?"
Agrat asked.

"No, but thank you for asking,"
the woman replied.
"Try the cheerleaders down the hall."

"You  are the one who summoned me
with the heights of your passion,"
Agrat said, "and therefore
it is your desires which I must gratify."

The woman -- whose nametag read Becky --
gazed at the succubus and said,
"You're a demon, right?"
Agrat nodded.
"I'm guessing a lot of sexists go to hell,
so if you could give me some examples
of sexism in your workplace, that'd help."

Agrat blinked her slitted eyes
and stroked hands over her bare breasts.
"We are supposed to be sinning," she said.

"Is shirking your usual job a sin?" Becky asked.
"I suppose it would be," Agrat said.

"Then you're right on track," Becky said.
"Tell me about your sexists for my dissertation.
I'm working on feminism and QUILTBAG rights."

"I do not understand," Agrat said.
"Just complete this sentence," Becky prompted.
"A lot of men are pigs, and I know one who ..."

"... actually got turned into a hog
after he arrived in Hell, because
he used to root after women
whether they liked it or not, and then
he tried the same with the female demons
as he climbed up the ranks," Agrat said.
"They were not amused and they had magic."

"That's great," Becky said, typing fast.
"Tell me more like that!"

So Agrat told Becky story after story
about the damned souls and the devils
and the fallen angels, and how Hell
was -- unsurprisingly -- a cesspit
of sexism and racism and all the other -isms,
and not a union representative in sight
(despite some priests' insistence
that socialists were all surely damned).

The more they talked,
the more excited they both got,
until Becky declared that she'd finished a chapter
and Agrat flopped onto the floor and said,
"I need a cigarette."

"I don't smoke,"
Becky said quellingly.
So the succubus had to go outside.

Agrat returned a few minutes later.
"I wasn't expecting to see you again,"
Becky said to her.

"Well ... there's a slight problem,"
Agrat said. "It seems that
I've fallen in love with your cause,
and there can be no love in Hell,
so now I can't go back."

"Should I say Oops  or Congratulations?"
Becky murmured, tilting her head.

"Perhaps a bit of both," Agrat said.
"I'm used to being the honeytrap,
instead of the fly. It's very confusing."

At that moment, Abaddon appeared
and grabbed Agrat by the wrist.
"You must return to Salamanca at once,"
he demanded. "We have already
lost one of the incubi. We cannot
afford to lose one of the Four Queens of Hell!"

Agrat shrugged. "Tell Lilith I'm sorry,
but I've fallen in love with feminism."

Abaddon gave her a horrified look.
"You can't fall in love with an idea!"
he protested.
"It only counts if it's a person!"

"I couldn't teleport back when I tried,"
Agrat assured him.

"I thought you went out for a smoke,"
Becky said.

"That too," Agrat said, "though really,
I needed to be sure about whether or not
I could get back to Hell.  I can't."

"No no no!" Abaddon said.
"This is impossible.
Ideas have no passion."

"This one certainly does,"
Agrat said with a smirk.

"He must have led a really boring life,"
Becky whispered to Agrat.
"But here, let's show him something
that he'll believe, so he'll leave us alone."

Becky pulled Agrat forward to kiss her.
"Oh, you don't want to do that!"
Abaddon said.  "She has a forked tongue."

Agrat opened her mouth
and the little snake inside hissed.
There was no point letting Becky get close
under false pretenses, only to have
her run away screaming.

Becky just said, "No biting, no tongue."
Then she kissed Agrat.
It was a soft, warm, gentle,
and really quite thorough kiss.

As they were kissing,
Agrat thought about feminism,
and realized that Becky was too,
because the resonance between them
was heating up and Agrat's golden skin
started to steam slightly.

They were thinking about Hell
and what a swine Abaddon was
and how much fun it would be
to spark a rebellion if only they could
figure out how to get the word down there.

There was Satan to consider,
a powerful force if he stood against them --
but then, he was the patron of rebellion,
so maybe he would like the idea.

When they broke apart,
they discovered that Abaddon
had given up and gone away.

So there they were, all hot and bothered,
with no he-pig of a devil to take it out on.

"Wanna do another chapter?" Becky asked.
"Oh Hell yes!" Agrat agreed.

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Current Mood: busy busy

8 comments or Leave a comment
elliemurasaki From: elliemurasaki Date: February 14th, 2013 08:01 pm (UTC) (Link)

wtf I'm logged in why must I confirm I'm human
ysabetwordsmith From: ysabetwordsmith Date: February 14th, 2013 08:03 pm (UTC) (Link)


If you're logged in, you shouldn't be seeing the spam trap. I was having trouble with spam so I set the journal to require human verification for anonymous posts. Go figure.

I'm glad you like the poem!
thnidu From: thnidu Date: April 8th, 2013 02:13 am (UTC) (Link)
It took me a moment, and Y's reply, to recognize what you were referring to. In the context of the story it seemed entirely appropriate...
whuffle From: whuffle Date: March 25th, 2013 06:59 pm (UTC) (Link)

Oh that's priceless!
ysabetwordsmith From: ysabetwordsmith Date: March 25th, 2013 08:03 pm (UTC) (Link)

Thank you!

I'm glad you liked this.
janetmiles From: janetmiles Date: April 7th, 2013 11:28 pm (UTC) (Link)
So Agrat told Becky story after story
50 about the damned souls and the devils
and the fallen angels, and how Hell
was -- unsurprisingly -- a cesspit
of sexism and racism and all the other -isms,
and not a union representative in sight
(despite some priests' insistence
that socialists were all surely damned).

I adore you for this stanza.
ysabetwordsmith From: ysabetwordsmith Date: April 7th, 2013 11:47 pm (UTC) (Link)


You know I was thinking of you there, along with my parents. ;)
thnidu From: thnidu Date: April 8th, 2013 02:12 am (UTC) (Link)
LOVE-ly! (giggles unmasculinely but doesn't care)
8 comments or Leave a comment