Copyright 1993 Ashtoreth/William Haas
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     Aristheron felt another succubus drift and flutter down to her level in
the coils of Hell's comfortable, viscous ether.  Stilling the thoughtful
swaying of her own wings, she let herself feel the disturbance of the other
succubus.  The ether parted around a foxlike body, like her own, around
silken raiments, and small ornaments upon the ears and the left breast.  It
was her sister, Aristrides, and she had her compact disc player with her.
     Aristheron's tail quivered with her delight at seeing her numerical sister,
her younger sister.  They slipped into each other's arms, four pairs of them
entwining, and became reacquainted with each other's bodies, which were, to the
sight, identical.
    "Hello, sister," purred Aristrides, having settled after the intimacy into
her usual flippance.  "How are you this evening?"  Aristheron heard her click
on the player, heard the chuffing of the rotation of the disc inside, and then
heard _something_ hiss out of the headphones.
     Aristheron flitched her ears.  "What is that-- well, I hesitate to call it
music-- ?"
     Aristrides grinned, waving her tail.  "It's called 'rave.'"
    "It sounds like a great turbine with a beating heart."
     Aristrides smiled at her sister.  "_That_ was as unintentionally astute
a description of it as any I've ever heard."
     Aristheron wrinkled her nose.  "It is not as dissonant as 'grunge.' But
is it not a little... extreme?"
     The other succubus smiled.  "My dear sister, your idea of daring is the
later works of Mozart."
     Aristheron shivered a little with delight at the thought of a well-turned
piece by Amadeus, and then looked up, wondering if she ought to look as though
she'd been caught at something naughty.  Out of habit she did so, because she
looked very attractive doing it, and had for the last four thousand years
she'd been using the trick.
    "What is wrong with Mozart?" said Aristheron.  "I happen to like music with
dignity, and why not? I am your elder sister--" she said warningly.
    "You're elder to me by a millisecond," said Aristrides with a grin.  "You're
just afraid of change, is what it is, Aris. Like with your body."
     Aristheron rattled her wings together.  "I do not wish to be pierced," she
insisted, looking at her feet.  "I have no desire to mar the body my master
gave me."
     Aristrides smirked.  "You're just too proud of yourself. As well you should
be," she murmured.  She unashamedly cradled her sister's breast; Aristheron
smiled back at her equally shamelessly, and purred a little in her throat.
     Aristheron blinked her deep black eyes cutely and whispered "Why should I
not be especially fond of the music that my lover wrote to please me?" in the
gentlest voice she could manage.
     Aristrides' jaw dropped.  Before long the sweet, tinkling laughter of the
two succubi flittered through the ether of Hell.