Victoria's Demon Lover (3 page)

     “That one,” she whispered. 
The tail disappeared.  She knew he was positioning it low between her legs. 
She closed her eyes, waiting for the contact.  He pressed it gently against her
folds then moved it up until the tip brushed her clit.  She raised her hips in
approval and he circled the clit several times with the end wiggling like a
little finger. She moaned and the dribble of her wetness slid down over her
slit and into the terrycloth of her bathrobe.

     When she was ready he inserted
the tip and slowly pushed it inside her, the thick ring began to hum with a low
frequency shivering tremble.  She raised her knees.  Normally, there was a slow
build-up of excitement, but with the tail she was slammed with an orgasm almost
immediately, and then another one as he inserted it just where all the nerves
met inside her beneath her clit.  She felt the electric tingle along the inside
of her body that radiated along her inner thighs to her toes.  She bucked her
hips and the tail pressed deeper, the ring steered itself into the G-spot and
hummed until she gasped, kicking her legs and writhing.  Waves and waves of
pleasure rolled over her. Her ears burned, her tongue was dry and her nipples
engorged themselves until they resembled two pillars standing high above the hills
that were her breasts.

     She opened her eyes to see
him.  He straddled her, legs wide apart on either side of her waist.  As his
tail worked on her body, he was busy with his own pleasure.  The yellow eyes
flamed with his passion and his strong arm worked his hand up and down the
thick shaft of his cock.  Forward and backward he stroked himself, rocking his
hips in time with the thrusts of his tail into and out of her slit.  His teeth
were bared and his breathing was harsh and rough.  His nipples were as erect as
hers and every muscle in his body rippled with his exertion.

     The tail moved in and out of
her, now, touching her clit with an intense feather light tip at each stroke. 
No matter how she twisted on the floor and flailed her limbs, the insistent
tail stroked her faster and faster.  Her orgasm had lasted so long she was
exhausted, but still he would not relent.  Her groans of pleasure only made him
stroke himself harder.  Her feet kicked at the air and she dig her fingers and
nails into the only part of his body she could reach, his calves and ankles 
She drew long deep scratches in his red skin that trailed black blood which
tricked in timey rivulets over the bones of his enormous feet.

     He roared once and she arched
her back as the tail thrust hard.  Very hard.  Hard enough to lift her hips off
the carpet as he thundered his voice to match the force of his own orgasm. 
Thick ropes of cum shot from his cock in white arcs over her body, splashing
down on her face and hair.  He roared again as the next spurt flowed from
between his fingers and dripped down on her breasts, touching her first with
heat then ice as the air touched the wetness.  He arched his back and made
another sound, this one softer and more like a groan.  The last spurt ejected
itself in a high arch.  She watched his balls twitch and his buttocks tighten
as they spurted his cum over her head and against the wall.  The tail dwindled
to nothing inside her until it was so small she could not even feel it
withdraw.

     He was gasping this time, he
reached out to the wall and braced himself there and his legs shook.  His huge
cock deflated in his hand.  When the yellow eyes touched her they seemed
different this time.  She blinked up at him in wonder.  Then he was gone.

     Victoria soaked in her tub,
the warm water soothed the residual aches from last night’s encounter with her
demon.  Cleaning the carpet and the walls took her some hours and she was late
to bed.  Demon cum left stains if not cleaned up right away.

     She sighed and made the tiny
flames of her aromatherapy candles flicker.  She stared up at the ceiling of
her bathroom and wondered what she would do next.  She could travel.  Now that
there was no need to go to the office every day she could get in her car and
go.  Anywhere.  She wondered if she could run away from everything.  Last night
had been exhausting, and though she had been pleasured, she could no longer
look forward to her demon’s visits.  Perhaps he meant to kill her, like he did
Michael Brand.  From Legal.

     She glanced at the closed
door.

     Closed doors never stopped the
demon.  Was there a place he could not go?  What if she stayed in a church? 
There was a cathedral two miles away.  What if she stayed in there?  She
thought back to all the folktales she had read as a child, trying to remember
if there was something that stopped demons.  She knew about garlic and
vampires, and silver bullets and werewolves.  Holy water, maybe, and the big
double doors of a church.  She sat up, careful not to slosh the water in her
tub.  Where does one get holy water?  From a priest?  Victoria was not a
Catholic.  She wasn’t sure.  Then she remembered a movie.  A very famous movie
from decades ago.  Priests performed exorcisms.  They were the ones who sent
demons back to hell.  Forever.

     She slowly got out of her
bath, her eyes on the door.  She suspected the demon could read her mind. 
There had been several instances when she had thought of something that would
increase her pleasure while he was fucking her, and that thing happened. 
Sometimes it was a touch, sometimes a lick, but she would think it and he would
do it.  She wondered if he was watching her at all times.  What would he do if
he saw her go to the church for help?

     He would try to stop her.

     She dried herself and fluffed
her hair with the towel.  He tended to come to her at night.  It was morning. 
Maybe he slept during the day.  She wondered if demons slept.  She put on jeans
and a blue tee shirt and brushed her hair.  She slipped on her sandals and got
her purse, all the while flicking her eyes over the walls and cabinets and
furniture, looking for a flash of light or something to show that he might try
to stop her.

     In the car she kept checking
her rearview mirror.  Now that the demon had appeared at her old office
building, he could be anywhere, be anything.  He could be the man behind the
wheel of the car behind her right now.

     This thought made her stomach
hurt.  She knew that if she kept thinking these thoughts the paranoia would
make her crazy.  She might be crazy.  No.  The rape kit at the hospital and the
somber faces of the policemen confirmed her sanity.  She wasn’t imagining this.

     She pulled into the parking
lot of the church and looked in the mirror again to see if any cars followed
her. 
No
.  She parked and sat behind her wheel thinking.

     She could go into the church
and sit down.  But then what?  Someone might approach her and ask if she needed
help.  Victoria covered her eyes.  How would she explain?  She could tell the
truth.  They might call an ambulance and put her in the psych ward.  She tapped
her fingers on the steering wheel.  Would she be safe there?  She suspected the
demon might continue his visits, but be invisible to the staff.  She imagined
orderlies crowding her doorway while she had her legs spread and was pounded by
the invisible demon’s hard cock.  She would be locked up for a long time. 
Forever even.

     A tear tipped over her lower
lid and she wiped it away.  Self pity.  Demon visits were preferable to a life
in a cage.  She glanced around the parking lot.  Another car drove by slowly. 
The man inside turned his head to look at her.  Victoria lowered her eyes.  The
other car parked and the man got out, looking at her curiously before going
into the side door of the church.  He was probably the priest.  Victoria
sighed.  She would never tell anyone.  Even a priest.

     She started the engine.  As
she looked to the left, preparing to merge onto the street, she saw a movement
to her right.  She pulled out into traffic and as she stopped at the light
someone materialized in the passenger seat next to her.  She startled, but had
the sense to keep her eyes on the red light.  She blinked rapidly, thinking. 
The vision of the psych ward came to her again.  As the light turned green, she
touched the accelerator with her toes then glanced to her right.  Just her
eyes.  She didn’t turn her head.

     He was there, staring straight
ahead as she was.  He was in the human man form, wearing a collared shirt and
jeans.  She swallowed and thought about turning around and going back to the
church, but he read that thought.

     “It won’t help,” he said.

     Victoria’s throat tightened. 
She followed the car in front of her at it made the long curve near the mall. 
It occurred to her that in this situation the demon could not very well knock
her to the side and leap on her.  He would crash the car.  She frowned.  If he
wanted sex why not wait until she was alone in the house, or at least at her
destination.  She watched as the mall slid by.  No use pretending that’s where
she was headed.  But it was a very public place.  She turned into the entrance
and took the access road that ringed the huge parking lot.  Would he attack her
in public?  Was it his intention to have her committed?

     “No.  Victoria I do not want
you locked away in prison or in the hospital.”

     She began to tremble and her
knuckles whitened on the wheel.  He had never spoken more than a few words to
her at a time.  Usually instructions.  Usually orders.

     She swallowed again and
whispered, “What
do
you want?”

     He did not answer so she
hazarded a glance at him.  He was staring straight ahead and actually looked
sad.  Like he had feelings.

     “Pull over and park,” he said.

     She did.  She put the lever in
park and set the brake.  Just in case.  She kept her eyes ahead, watching
shoppers with their bags make their way to their cars.  She watched mothers and
children and rich ladies in heels.  She watched the security cart with its
flashing light make its rounds.  She watched everything except the seat beside
her.  He spoke again.

     “I need you to come with me.”

     “We do that sometimes, if I
get enough foreplay.”  She turned her head now, to look at him.  Her humor was
tinged with some hysteria.

     “This is not a joking matter,
Victoria.”

     She took a calming breath.  He
looked so normal.  Handsome, even, in a rough well-used sort of way.  He could
appear as anything and anyone.  Why this form?  He could have appeared as
handsome and perfect as the well-chiseled models in a fashion magazine. 
Victoria realized that she was thinking that if she could be a shape-shifter
she would look like the models in the negligée catalogue.

     But this form was flawed.  The
nose looked like it had been broken at some point and healed not quite
straight.  He had that thick scar on the front of his throat.  And his ears
were too interesting to be perfect.  She liked his hair.  It was a sandy blond
and just the right length to show that it might wave and curl if it ever grew
longer to touch his shoulders.  The blond looked natural, like he spent a lot
of time outdoors, and his dark tan and the squint-wrinkles around his eyes
suggested he was rarely inside.  He was clean-shaven, but stubble was apparent
along his chin and jaw.  He was tall and had the strong chiseled bone structure
of a Norseman. She frowned, realizing she was thinking about him as if he were a
real man. 
This form is an illusion.
  No more real than the huge red
demon that scraped her ceiling with his massive curling ram’s horns.

     “Not really.”  He turned to
her with those yellow eyes.  One side of his mouth turned up in a half smile
that quickly faded.  Victoria blinked.  He had never smiled at her.  Ever.

     “Who are you?” she asked. 
“Why do you torment me?”  She tried to think of what terrible sin she must have
committed.  She had led such a boring life.  She had committed no atrocities. 
Once she had hit a squirrel with her car by accident at night.  That was
probably the worse thing she had ever done.  The thing with Michael Brand from
Legal…but she did not do that.  He did.

     She glanced outside the
windows, wondering if the walking shoppers would see her talking to an empty
seat.  They would probably think she had a hands-free phone.  She sighed.

     He repeated, “I need you to
come with me.”

     “Why ask?” Her voice was hard
with frustration.  “You always just come and take what you want.  Why be
polite?  Why even bother to ask?”

     The face he was using
softened.  “Because where we are going is different from this place.  Here you
cannot escape from me.  The church was an amusing idea, but there is no place
here you can hide from me.”

     She stared at him.  His voice
was warm and sincere.  She took many little breaths, reminding herself that
instead of forcing her with a strong grip on her body, he was now forcing her
with the hypnotic resonance of his voice.  She was determined to resist.

     “Why,” she narrowed her eyes
at him, “do you think I would ever agree to go anywhere with you?”

     He did not answer, and this
gave her time to think about what he had just said.  There was no place here
she could hide or escape.  But there?  Is that what he meant?  There she might
be able to escape?

     He nodded, reading her mind
again.  “Yes.”

     “Where exactly?”  She said
that slowly, thinking about the answer.  Don’t demons come from Hell?  Is that
where he wanted her to go?

     “Hell isn’t what you think it
is.” He moved his hand to touch her knee.  She jumped.  His hand was warm.  It
felt like a man’s hand.

     “What choice do I have?”  She
was angry that her voice sounded resigned.  Like she had already agreed.  She
tried to imagine being a strong heroine of her own life, like women in the
movies who kicked ass.