by Eve Newton
The magick book, placed on a pedestal in the corner of my dark bedroom, suddenly slams itself closed as if in protest. I frown at it and then check myself. No feelings either way is the order from the book.
This is going to be harder than I thought.
Axelle
Having forgotten about Roberta and her hasty exit, I head for home with the rest of the underlings. The rest of my day had been a bit of a stinker, with absolutely no souls being sent my way. I’m fairly sure that Roberta re-directed my traffic out of revenge or something, and it worked.
I’d been so bored out of my mind; I’d caught myself several times doodling Luc’s name on the pad in front of me.
I snort.
What am I? A teenager with a crush?
Man alive, I need to kick myself up the ass. My feelings are so conflicted over that beast. On the one hand, I’m so angry with him for treating me so strangely, but on the other hand, he is the creator of my spirit and there will always be a loyalty to him that wants to crush the other side.
Arriving back at my apartment, I have decided once again, that if the dress is there, I’m going to go and keep my anger in check. I learned a long time ago that you catch more flies with honey. Of course, once you have caught them, then you can pluck their wings off and burn them with a magnifying glass. I know how to play this game, so when I see the dress in the closet, I put it on and plaster a smile on my face.
When I arrive at Luc’s mansion several moments later, I find myself in the dining hall facing a suckling pig, complete with an apple in its mouth, for me to feast on. My stomach rumbles as I take in the delicious sight, and without waiting for my host to join me, I tuck into the platefuls of food, savoring every bite, and gulping back the blood-wine.
When I’m finally sated, I sit back in my chair and remember where I am and that I’m still alone. Luc didn’t join me tonight. Perhaps I wasn’t supposed to come? I just assumed that the dress was my invitation to turn up.
“This way, please,” a low, sickly voice says from behind me.
I’m getting really tired of creatures talking to the back of my head.
I spin around in the chair, ready with an acidic remark on my tongue, but pause when I see an imp standing there. I stand up, towering over the small, pinky-colored creature, and fold my arms.
“Where are you taking me?” I demand.
“To the master,” he replies and hops off towards that damn door on the far side, his little wings flapping as he goes.
“No,” I say, standing my ground. “I want Luc to tell me what is going on.”
The imp turns around and regards me with his big, round eyes. “You follow me, or Darius will take you to the master.”
I gulp as I follow the long, crooked finger of the imp to a dark corner, and see the shadowy outline of a beast so tall and wide, I can only assume this is the infamous Darius of the Devil’s personal guard. I don’t fancy my chances with him so much—I’ve heard the rumors—so I scamper off after the imp and through the door to the much-loathed bedroom.
I find it empty as I scan the dim room.
I’m not sure if I’m relieved by that or not.
“Axelle,” Luc’s deep, husky voice says to me as he enters the bedroom, dressed in his robe this time and clearly naked and aroused underneath it.
He closes the door, so I ask, “Where are the twins?”
“They are otherwise engaged,” he says meaningfully, and lets his black silk robe fall to the floor.
“So, it’s just you and me?” I ask, my hope rising that I might end up with a night of debauched sin with him after all.
“And Stanford,” Luc says, indicating the leering imp.
“Stanford?” I ask weakly.
“It’s too late to choose Darius,” Stanford says with a lascivious smile on his wide mouth.
Oh shit! What have I gotten myself into?
I’m into fornicating any way it is usually offered, but with a dusky-pink imp?
Oh, hell, no!
Those long, creepy fingers and floppy ears, not to mention the wide, grinning mouth and sharp teeth do nothing for me whatsoever.
“Luc,” I implore, hearing my desperation.
“He’s not going to touch you,” Luc says with a mocking laugh. “He is here merely as a witness.”
“A witness to what?” I ask, the relief flooding through me that I’m not about to be imp-raped.
“The joining of our bodies,” Luc says as if it is obvious. “Get yourself ready.”
What?
I’m supposed to strip off and masturbate while an imp watches me?
“You do it,” I say with my hands on my hips. “If I’m good enough to fuck, I’m good enough to touch.”
“Do it!” Luc roars, his blue eyes turning black. “Or if you prefer Stanford to finger you, it can be arranged.”
The threat of imp fingers near me, gets me into motion.
I strip off the dress and climb onto the bed. I part my legs, and feeling utterly humiliated, I proceed to try and bring myself to an orgasm while Stanford ogles my bare pussy with glee.
After a few moments, I know it’s not happening. For once in my life, I just cannot do this while that creature is watching me so closely. It is extremely off-putting.
“I can’t,” I stammer and let my hands drop to my sides.
Luc tuts at me and shakes his head. “It will have to do, I have somewhere else I need to be.”
He lifts my legs up and rams into me hard, clearly enjoying my squeak of pain. He gets on with business and as soon as it has started, it has finished.
But this time something different happens.
Instead of him leaving me to clean up, Stanford hands him a blade and he slices his hand open. He holds it up over my abdomen and squeezes, letting the little drops of black blood drip down onto my stomach to join his seed. Then, he wipes his hand over my stomach and grabs my left wrist in his tight grip.
I gasp as a feeling of dark and immense power washes over me. I can’t help but look away from Luc’s eyes. They are engulfed with flames, licking up out of his eye sockets, and two twisted horns have sprouted on his head as long as my arms.
I tremble in terror.
I have never been afraid of anything in my life, but right now I’m almost peeing myself with fear.
As Luc mutters words in an ancient language, I feel my wrist burn, and cry out with pain.
Then, it’s over.
Luc returns to his smooth, human persona. He releases his grasp on me and I fall back to the bed, whimpering. I bring my hand up to find that a solid bronze bracelet has formed and circles my wrist. I try to claw it off, but there is no clasp, it is almost like it has been smelted on right around my wrist.
“Phase one is complete,” Luc says, almost with a hint of pride.
I bring my eyes back to his blue ones.
I want to ask what phase two is and why I’m wearing this bracelet, but I can’t speak. My fear has left me completely shaken.
“Go now,” Luc says as he puts his robe back on. “Stanford will see you out.”
I nod dumbly and climb off the bed, my hand still cradling my burning wrist. I look around for the dress, but it is nowhere to be found.
“Follow me,” Stanford says, and with a last lusty gaze at my body, he turns and hops off on his big, flat feet towards the door that leads to the dining hall.
“Wait,” I call out, finding my voice. “My dress.” There is no way I want to leave here naked and covered in Luc’s bodily fluids.
“The dress is gone,” Stanford says idly.
“Then find me a robe or something to wear,” I snap.
“It isn’t my master’s wish,” Stanford says, still hopping along even though I haven’t taken a step.
I realize that I have to follow Stanford. I have no choice but to go and do my walk of shame. The door that Luc exited through has disappeared, so any thought I had of following him, has vanished.
I hesitantly step out
of the room, thankful to find that the dining hall is empty. I scamper after him, keeping my arms crossed across my breasts.
I make it out to the hallway without incident, but then I’m faced with the twins raking their scathing gazes over me with looks that can only be described as jealousy and hatred.
I relax instantly.
I have no idea what the fuck happened to me over the last three nights, but it is most definitely something for these females to envy. That can only mean it is important.
“She survived,” Stanford states the obvious to the twins.
I glare at him as the potential danger of what just happened to me is realized.
“It is the master’s wish that you cleanse her and send her home,” he continues, and then bounds off without a further word.
I’m led to an antechamber and then straight into a deep, dark pool of brimstone. It covers me up to my neck.
I gag on the smell of the sulfur.
‘My’ twin dunks me under the surface and I come up sputtering and choking in another pool, this one made from fire. The flames lap at my skin, but I don’t burn or feel the heat.
Eventually, I’m kicked out of the fire pool, literally, by ‘my’ twin’s Louboutin’d foot on my ass.
I land back in my apartment naked, but clean.
“Hey!” I yell as I rub my behind. “That was uncalled for!”
I try once again to take the bracelet off my burning wrist. But as I spin it around and around, there is no clasp, no hinges, just a solid band of bronze that is loose enough to move but too tight to remove. I attempt my old trick and dislocate the thumb of my left hand to try and wriggle the bangle off, but even that doesn’t work. It is stuck fast and now I have a sore thumb to go with my burning arm.
“Great,” I mutter as I pop the digit back into place with a grimace. I push my hair out of my face and look down at myself.
Still naked.
I dive for the shower cubicle, needing to get the stench of sulfur out of my hair, and to wash away the hideous nature of the evening.
As I climb into bed that night, the pit of my stomach clenches tight and I stop denying the fact that somehow, and for some reason, Luc has bonded me to him. I am a Demon Bound.
With a heavy sigh, I close my eyes, determined to fix this tomorrow. I will go to Luc and tell him that he has made a mistake, that I’m not the special creature he thinks I am. So, I survived this sex-ritual, so what? I’m a weak fool and don’t deserve this honor.
Yep, sounds good.
I practice this speech as I drop off to sleep.
~ CHAPTER SEVEN ~
Luc
I once again watch my little Demon bitch as she sleeps. This time I’m doing it from the comfort of my sitting room. She is restless and probably already feeling the effects of phase two.
I sit back on my black leather sofa and tilt my head up to better see the projection of Axelle on the wall in front of me. Her image is very clear, thanks to our special connection and I can enjoy watching her now at my convenience.
That essence of hers is something else altogether. I knew it all along, but I needed her to prove to me that she is worthy, and the punishment that I doled out to her in the process was worth every second of her discomfort. She is a willful creature and she needs to be reminded who owns her. Her face, as Stanford watched her masturbating, was a picture of anger and humiliation.
The best kind.
It had aroused me far more than I’d wanted it to and only the unsavory mental picture of Stanford finger-fucking her had caused me to regain my focus on the task at hand.
I think back to the pain I’d felt from her escape, as she struggled and clawed to get away from me the second time. But I’d let her go, knowing that if she made it back to Earth, she was worth another look and that she was potentially the one for this lifetime.
And she did.
I’d found great joy in returning her to my domain and locking her up in solitary confinement for seven months. Her torment was pure pleasure for me, and I reveled in every second of her frustration, waiting to see if she would break. But, once again, she defied the odds I’d set against her and she seemed to thrive instead of wither.
I knew then that it was time to officially choose her and to truly test her.
“My liege,” Vaska, my current fling, calls to me. “Come back to bed.”
I ignore her. I have no desire to be with her at this time. I want to watch Axelle, to see if she survives the night.
She is tossing and turning, flinging her arms up over her head. She is sweating profusely; I can see the beads of sweat on her forehead as I zoom in the projection of her. Her face is scrunched up as she discards the sheets in her fever, only to drag them back up over herself as the chills start.
I’m somewhat amused to see her suffering. It almost makes me want to go to her and increase her discomfort just to see if she can take it, but I cannot mess with her now. She is too precious to me.
Vaska calls out to me again. I frown at the interruption.
“This big bed is so empty,” Vaska drawls as she saunters into the living area, completely naked and smelling like a bitch in heat.
I rake my gaze over her ebony skin, but I find that it now does nothing for me. I’m over her after two days.
She must see my blank stare and she knows her end has arrived.
“My lord,” she says, holding up her hands. “We’re good together, don’t do this.”
I have no more words for her. She’d been a good enough fuck while it lasted, but now I have more important concerns. Axelle is starting to tremble violently, and it appears she is going the same way as the last one.
I sigh.
No one, except my dear Jezebelle, has ever made it past phase two.
“Darius,” I say quietly.
My personal bodyguard appears silently in the shadows. “Take care of this, will you?” I don’t take my eyes off Axelle as I block out the screams of my former lover as Darius rips into her, tearing her into tiny little pieces just for the blood and violence of it, before he consumes her essence.
Darius is special. An essence-eater is a rarity and one that I treasure and ensure is kept well fed and happy. This is the third woman this week that I have discarded, and Darius’s power is at its highest right now. He is going to need a release and very soon.
“Go to the dungeons and find yourself a morsel to take it out on,” I absently order my Demon guard.
“Sir,” Darius grunts his appreciation and vanishes to find himself a weak, new soul to take out his depravities on.
I would normally take audience to the rape and torture of Darius’s chosen one, but tonight I am riveted to the scene on the wall. Axelle is still thrashing about; her body is throwing itself all around the bed. Her Demonic essence is trying to tear itself away from her human form, to get away from the agony, but this is the moment of truth. This is where all but one of my bitches has demised, withering up into a form so unrecognizable, before her essence dissipates into the void. I watch in mild disgust as she vomits over the side of the bed, but it catches my interest. I sit up and peer closer.
I’m on the edge of my seat, almost clasping my hands together in glee as I see her crawl off the bed to the toilet to empty her stomach of its entire contents.
She has survived.
Once again, she has taken what I have given her and beat it.
A wide smile passes over my face as I sit back and watch as she rinses out her mouth and then goes to clean up. She is on her feet even quicker than Jezebelle was, and it stirs a burning lust in me that I can’t help. My cock gets hard and I almost wish that Vaska hadn’t been dispatched of earlier.
It doesn’t matter. I will take another little bitch to do my bidding. She can suck me off as I continue to watch my bound one enter phase three with the new strength that has been bestowed upon her, in order for her to complete her task.
Axelle
“Fuck,” I groan as I flop out of bed with all
the grace of a fish out of water. Never in all my Demonic life have I felt this awful. My mouth feels like a bird has shat in it and my skin is prickly and twitchy. On the plus side, the burning on my wrist has subsided, even though the bronze bangle is still hanging around my arm.
“Damn Devil,” I mutter as I make coffee and stumble into the shower, yet again, to wash the sweat and grossness off me.
“Any chance I can call in sick?” I ask the coffee mug as I start to get dressed.
“No,” Roberta says, opening the apartment door and just barging in.
“Manners!” I snap, quickly covering up my breasts with my blouse. “This is my home.” Home? Well, I suppose it is now and I’d better get used to it.
Roberta sneers at me. “All of this, including you, belong to the Devil. I have authority over all of our master’s Inbound assets.”
“So that gives you the right to just walk in here whenever you want?” I ask her nastily.
“Yes,” Roberta replies, hefting her large frame onto my very messy bed. “Want to try tidying up after yourself? This place is a pig sty.”
I want to tell this lumbering bitch where to go after my night from the pits of Hell, but I keep my mouth shut and turn my back to continue getting dressed.
“Nice bracelet,” Roberta remarks after a moment.
I turn around at the hint of jealousy in her voice.
“Don’t think it will do you any favors with me.”
I catch the slight note of fear in Roberta’s voice and it worries me. “I don’t even know what it’s for,” I mutter, irritated that everyone seems to know except me.
Roberta just sniffs.
I tilt my head. She doesn’t know either. In fact, I’d be willing to bet that nor do the twins. They probably know as much as I do and all that is that Luc did a ritual with me for some unknown reason.