Contortion

by Aurelia T. Evans

  “I don’t like it when people make fun of me,” John snapped.

  She pinched his chest then slipped behind him. “In this business, you get used to it. But I’m not making fun of you, fire-eater. I like what I see. Us veterans don’t really see the ones who come in as punishment. You’ve been cold-shouldered enough that you know what I mean. But you must have made Bell happy enough over the last year if he’s handed you over to me. Now that I see what I’ve been missing, I think I could definitely do worse.”

  “Thanks,” John said. He hadn’t been in the sarcasm game with her long enough. His venom didn’t even faze her.

  “Good body,” she murmured. Now she ran her nails along the line of his shoulder. The unscarred skin pebbled with goosebumps. “Lovely eyes. Hot mouth. Are you going to hurt me with that mouth if I let it please me, pet?”

  “Is that what I’m going to be? Your pet?” John asked. He swayed in his bonds.

  “It’s not such a bad thing to be. A girl needs to take care of her pet. Feed it, stroke it, make sure its needs are met, sometimes even before her own—but not most of the time,” Valorie replied. “Most of the time, the Queen’s demands are to be obeyed.” She stroked the line of his jaw, almost brushed the scars on his lips but pulled back at the last second. “It won’t be an even balance. Understand?”

  “I get it. Slavery and servitude. I guess you learned from the best.”

  “That’s very hurtful,” Valorie said. “I already told you I can’t make you have sex with me. I can’t make you stay. If I untie you and you want to leave, I’m not allowed to stop you.”

  She stepped around in front of him again, still determined not to look down at his trousers lest her mouth start to water, ruining the tone she’d set.

  “Bell wrapped you up into a nice little gift for me. He’s a showman. He’s good at presentation,” Valorie said. “He’s not the only one.”

  She reached behind her and unzipped the catsuit from where it started between her shoulder blades, down to her ass. That was another plus to flexibility. She never had to ask anyone to do her zippers or her corset ties. She could always reach.

  Valorie peeled the leather away from the top half of her body.

  “Oh God, that is so not fair,” John groaned as Valorie exposed her breasts and her abdomen, all the way to the crease where her mound began.

  “It’s important for you to know what your options are, boy,” Valorie said. She pushed the rest down her legs without having to bend them. “And what you’re getting if you choose the way I want you to choose.”

  She stepped out of the catsuit and smoothed her palms over her body all the way back to upright. Arcanium got rid of modesty and body shame pretty quickly. Most people and demons didn’t wear much of anything. They were all shapes, sizes and colors. And they all kept getting naked with one another.

  “In order to have me, you have to do for me. I’ll make sure you’re satisfied after I’m satisfied that you’ve done well,” she said.

  Valorie stepped to either side of his bound legs stretched out before him, gradually drawing closer and closer to his hips. The way he was hanging, she was taller than him. It made her powerful, him looking up at her with blatant need shining through his half-obscured face.

  “Now, I don’t know how good you are yet or how much instruction is going to be involved. But if you don’t want a woman telling you what to do, even if it gets you what you want, you can waddle right on out that door like you’ve been riding a horse for a month. You got your ways, I got mine and this is my home. You’re not going to get me into bed and take over. I can kick you out if you try to play the fool with me. I’ve been here a long time, boy. Bell would be very displeased if you were to do something I didn’t want. Comprende, chico?”

  “You’re really serious? You’re not just playing me? Because it feels like decades since I’ve had sex, with all that damn magic flying around,” John said.

  Valorie took his face between her hands. He exhaled an involuntary sigh like a moan.

  “Does it look like I’m playing around?” Valorie asked.

  She didn’t know how much feeling he had in his lips with the build-up of scar tissue there as well as some places inside his mouth. But when she licked his upper lip then caught it between hers in a kiss, he twitched violently, swaying in his bonds. Any time he tried to take the lead, she changed the angle, and he couldn’t do anything to stop her.

  Finally the boy figured things out. He sagged from the bar and let her strip him of control one magically fueled moment at a time. She rocked her hips against his in slow undulations, almost like a dance. Her cunt dampened the front of his leather trousers. But she didn’t give him any pressure. Any time he tried to lift his hips up by pushing at the floor with his heels, she shifted back, away from his cock. At best, he’d be able to feel that she was there, the brush of her, perhaps the heat. But he couldn’t rub himself against her, couldn’t relieve the tension straining up from under the placket.

  From what she could feel of him, he certainly wouldn’t be Arcanium regulation during the day.

  The only thing that kept Bell from criminal lewdness charges all over the place was magic. Just enough to entice, not enough to shock. Kids were allowed in before eight o’clock, after all, although Arcanium made no secret that it was not a family circus. In its advertising and on the information boards at the ticket entrance—either at Arcanium’s gates when they were solo or at the gates of the faire or park that they’d attached themselves to—Arcanium warned that the circus wasn’t recommended for children under the age of thirteen. They left the discretion—and the risk—to the parents. They weren’t quite the lewd, crude, rude freak sideshow that some of the other circuses were—which wasn’t a bad thing, just not what Bell had been going for. But they had a little bit of everything.

  John had a lot of something. It felt good. And he wasn’t even a demon.

  “What do you say, fire-eater?” Valorie asked against his mouth. When he tried to taste her again, she met him with her tongue but didn’t let him in. “You ready to play according to my rules, or are you going to forfeit the game?”

  “I thought girls hated sports metaphors,” John said.

  “I wasn’t talking sports.” Her nipples brushed his chest.

  “I’ll do whatever you want,” he said, practically leaping up. “Please don’t make me leave. I think I’m going to explode if I don’t…”

  “You won’t explode,” Valorie said, stepping back. He groaned at her absence. “You might go a little crazy.”

  “I’m already a little crazy,” John replied. “Because of your boss.”

  “Who did this to you because…?” Valorie prompted.

  He sighed. Not a moan. “I’d blame Cameron, but his death was bad enough without me damning him more. The genie did this to me because of me. Because of what I did.”

  “The pup can be taught.”

  “What are you in for, then?” he asked as she worked on the knot that tied him to the bar.

  “Stupidity and random chance,” Valorie said, “which is better than you, pizza oven. There.”

  John dropped onto his ass, grunting and wincing because he hadn’t been able to prepare himself for it.

  “Now…” she continued, stepping back and sitting on the coffee table. The golems would clean any mess she or they made, like elves in the night. They always did.

  She sat back and spread her legs. Not to an inhuman degree, but enough to make the boy salivate. He wet his lips.

  “Come over here and lick me, pet,” she ordered.

  “Aren’t you going to untie me?” John asked, holding up his wrists.

  “I already did. Oh, you mean unbind you? Nope. Not until you make this pussy purr,” Valorie said.

  “Oh, come on.”

  “Do you want me or not, fire-eater? It’s as simple as that. If you do, you crawl over here like a caterpillar and make me come. Once I’ve had what I need, I’ll give you what you need. If
you’d rather get it from warm pastries, be my guest.”

  With Bell, she’d been an equal in the bedroom, even though Bell had really had all the power. With Lennon, they’d been equals, more or less.

  John was not her equal. John was still in the penalty box, if she had to go with a sports metaphor. He wasn’t on probation, despite Bell bringing him to her. He was in prison. If he got a conjugal visit, that was one of the few perks a prisoner could have, but it didn’t make him free and it didn’t make him her equal. He had to earn his way up—with Arcanium as a whole and with her. It had taken Misha over ten years before Bell had given him some reprieve. Colm, one of Caroline’s carousel men, was still a prisoner after over fifty years, although allowances had to be made for the fact that Colm used to be a demon himself. Bell adjusted the sentences accordingly between mortals and immortals.

  Those pretty eyes, almost as black as a demon’s, glared at her, but he couldn’t keep them away from her tits and her pussy for very long after such an extended period of self-denial. Valorie knew he wouldn’t say no. He’d take what he was offered and take it gladly.

  Was it flattering that she was a condemned man’s only option, something he couldn’t afford to say no to after about a year and a half of celibacy? Not really. But it wasn’t flattering to him either that he was only there because she didn’t have anyone else to play with. So she guessed they were even on that, if not equal. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and they could both do much worse.

  John rolled onto his side to push himself up by his elbows and knees. He couldn’t crawl like a normal person with his arms and legs bound the way they were. The ropes weren’t just on the wrists and ankles, but twisted up his legs and forearms in crude mimicry of Japanese bondage. He couldn’t part his elbows and knees very far.

  Valorie licked her lips pointedly as he shuffled toward her. He clenched his teeth, well aware of how undignified he must look. She’d never had a bound man crawl to her like this. But now that it was happening, she wondered why she hadn’t demanded it in the past. His ass wriggled from side to side, and he just looked so humiliated by it. She wished she’d opened his trousers for his cock to beckon her the same way.

  As unflattering as it was that he wouldn’t want her if he had anyone else clamoring for his bed, the fact that he was willing to do this for her made up for it.

  When he reached the coffee table, she lifted his chin with one black-painted fingernail.

  “Very good boy,” she murmured. “You want your treat?”

  “Am I allowed to talk?” John asked.

  “Depends what you want to say,” she said.

  “That’s a no, then.”

  “Pets are allowed to talk if they can. Some you can’t get to shut up. Try me.”

  “I don’t like licking pussy,” John said. “I never have.”

  Valorie smiled, her tongue pressed to one of her canine teeth. “I think you should try it again. People change. Go on, pet. Have a taste.”

  She drew him in by the sharpness of her curved nail on his chin, all the way to her folds, but he gazed at her face as though captivated. His eyebrows were furrowed, curious, perhaps wondering what secret she wasn’t sharing as he finally lowered his gaze and parted his lips.

  With just the tip, John ran his tongue along her slit. He slipped in, spreading her taste over his tongue and swallowing.

  Then, groaning, he darted forward again to plunge his tongue inside her. He drew out more of her juices, smearing them over her folds and her clit. He sucked her like candy, grunting and humming like a man feasting to his heart’s desire, a gourmand presented with his favorite meal, the waiter putting more and more in front of him with no end in sight.

  So maybe she was still a little hungry, but she didn’t think it was for food anymore.

  Once he got started, his enthusiasm helped hide some of his novice errors. So did the sex magic thick as smoke and fog in the RV and probably all over the circus. He was new, but he had good instincts, and her clit had low standards when she was this turned on. Besides, he was her pet now. She could instruct him, and given the way he buried himself between her legs, coating her juices all over his face without a care in the world, he’d be amenable to learning a thing or two.

  As much as he was enjoying it, though, Valorie guessed that eating a woman out was still something he probably wouldn’t be caught doing on the outside or if anyone else was watching—though he’d gladly accept and expect a woman’s mouth around his cock, she was sure.

  She considered this part of his reconditioning. Every touch was new, every taste, every smell. Everything was so fucking good when incubus and succubus spells went through a body like fever. A person developed a whole new appreciation for sex—all kinds of sex with all kinds of people.

  It was truly a shame there weren’t more female demons in Arcanium. The human women had all the demon cock they could stand, but men didn’t have demon pussy to sink themselves into, with Lady Sasha off limits. There was also Comedy, the female of the clown trio. But no one but Caroline was stupid enough to even try to get near the clowns without Bell around, and no one could figure out why the clowns liked her when she kept saving children from them and getting whipped for it.

  Valorie had sampled the available male demon pool—which was totally worth the sampling and how—but John really didn’t have anyone to lose his mind and his dick in unless he was a little gay, which she doubted.

  Looked like he was stuck with her, but he didn’t seem to be too unhappy about that turn of events at the present moment.

  Neither was she. She petted his smooth head, the nerves in her palm seeming to startle when they passed from scalp to scar. But she got used to it quickly, because now she was guiding his head, and he could take direction, and oh God, keep licking right there, and suck it a little…

  Valorie had been able to go telepathic with Bell with her needs when her mouth had stopped being able to form words. She didn’t have the same malady with John. Words spilled from her lips and he obeyed as though it was second nature, as though everything that made her croon, moan, gasp, or cry made him feel just as good.

  She taught him how to vary his tongue on her clit, little flicks, around it rather than on it, firm strokes, broad, soft laps, humming as he sucked on her. She directed him between her folds until he finally moved with just her hand, even though he had no hair to pull.

  Valorie whimpered when he plunged his tongue into her as far as he could. It wasn’t as good as Lennon, who had real length to his tongue, not to mention dexterity. But while she couldn’t help but compare, she didn’t begrudge him for the fact he was human, and the way he fucked her with his tongue only intensified her anticipation of other things he was going to fuck her with.

  “Back up here, pet,” Valorie said. She guided him to her clit once again, her orgasm bubbling under the surface. She was ready to boil.

  John rubbed his bound hands against the front of his trousers, the best he could without full use of his hands. His moans vibrated through her every time he applied pressure to her clit.

  “Lick it, pet. Lick it hard and suck it,” Valorie snapped. She mashed his mouth against her, but it wasn’t enough, even though he looked like he might come just from eating her out and the awkward strokes through his leather.

  His eyes rolled back as she pushed herself standing. She still didn’t let him take his mouth off her, practically smothering him.

  Valorie pushed John up and back, back, bowling him over. He shouted, muffled in her flesh, as she pinned him to the floor and sat on his face, frantically rocking her pussy over him as he writhed underneath her.

  “Faster, faster, faster,” she gasped.

  Her skin broke out in pleasure like gooseflesh as the orgasm galloped through her. She didn’t care if she was causing his tongue to cramp. He wasn’t going to let up until she was finished.

  Valorie cried out as she came. When a man did a good job, she had always believed he deserved to know his work was
appreciated.

  It had been a long time since Valorie had climaxed outside Arcanium. She was pretty sure the world outside was going to royally disappoint her after twenty years of consistently amazing orgasms. They weren’t all the same, of course, otherwise she would have started taking them for granted a long time ago. But every single one of them was good, no matter how bad she was feeling, and she hadn’t gotten tired of it yet. Tired of constantly needing sex? Sometimes. Tired of the earth-shattering sex she was having? Not at all. If she had to have sex this much, it damn well better be good.

  ”Oh…” she sighed, sliding back over his chin and smearing her juices, her scent, along his neck and chest before lying back over his bound arms. The rope scratched the valley of her spine, but she didn’t care. She rested her head on his thigh, inches away from his cock.

  Now she could get a look at him to her heart’s content. No, definitely not demon big, but that wasn’t as important as what he could do with it. If he could use his cock half as well as his tongue, Valorie thought they’d get along splendidly.

  Demon cocks should hurt like hell, and the largest should perforate organs, but they didn’t. The stretch of her pussy around them ached with terrible pleasure instead of pain. Her body always seemed to accommodate the obscene lengths and widths without strain or organ bruising. Some kind of magic on their side, no question.

  Human cock, though? She hadn’t had a man who wasn’t masquerading since Troy, and that had been damn fine. Just because John couldn’t measure up physically with her usual fare didn’t mean he couldn’t use what his mama gave him just as well.

  “You learn quickly, pet,” Valorie said, stretching with feline luxury.

  His cock moved in his trousers. He must have been terribly uncomfortable, pants that tight, cock probably leaking and needing room to grow.