by Heidi Belleau;Ally Blue;Kari Gregg;Peter Hansen;Laylah Hunter;Brien Michaels;Sam Schooler
Air followed it, burning hot, like he was standing next to a bonfire. Mr. Ashmedai’s words returned to the realm of sense. “. . . love a man’s throat bulging with my cock,” he was saying. “Makes me feel like I own him and his breakable body. Don’t you feel the same? Do you feel like I own you now, Tobias?”
Tobias knew he was supposed to say yes, but he just shook his head, too fearful to gather the effort he needed to lie. Still wheezing. Still trying to fill his body with air. Tears gathered on his eyelashes. Shameful. Couldn’t he at least suffer with some dignity?
“Really? No?” Mr. Ashmedai swiped his fingers through the mess on Tobias’s face, smearing his shame into his skin. Then he pushed again into Tobias’s mouth. Past his defences and down into his throat again. “That’s fine . . . But you stopped touching yourself, Tobias,” he added conversationally.
Tobias startled. Took himself in hand. Soft, again. Flopping in his palm. He stroked with finger and thumb, gentle now, trying to counteract the cruelty Mr. Ashmedai was inflicting on his mouth.
“My, my, my. You certainly hopped to, there, didn’t you, Tobias? Still think I don’t own you?” Mr. Ashmedai rocked his hips with steady, fluid grace. Bent forward to pinch and roll Tobias’s nipples between his fingers, the motion making a direct mockery of the way Tobias was still struggling in vain to awaken his cock. “Your body seems to recognise my claim,” he said. He rubbed the pad of one thumb over Tobias’s nipple, which had pebbled under his touch. “So eagerly it responds to me. But to you . . .” He laughed deep in his chest, his cock stuttering halfway down Tobias’s battered throat. “Perhaps I should take your cock in hand instead?”
Desperation washed through Tobias. He took his prick full in hand again and, though it pained him to bring David into this more than David was already brought, he tried to think of the night before, of David’s sweetness as he gave Tobias everything he could, even though Tobias had given him nothing.
Mr. Ashmedai jerked his hips forward, sudden and sharp, and brought his hand up to circle Tobias’s throat. “No gentle memories,” he said, snappish. The same hum from before was back, but now it throbbed even as Mr. Ashmedai spoke. “This is your payment, Tobias, don’t shirk it.” He pushed his cock deeper, gagging Tobias, and held Tobias in place, his throat spasming. “Yes, this is what I want from you.” He pushed an inch deeper, until Tobias was sure that if he went any further, if he held Tobias any longer, Tobias would die.
“No.” Mr. Ashmedai pulled back and freed Tobias at last. Tobias retched, coughing up saliva and pre-cum. “Death would be kind for you, and no pleasure at all for me. Now, call me master. Stroke yourself and call me master.”
“Master,” Tobias croaked. His throat was raw, as though he’d swallowed broken glass. His cock had hardened somewhat in his hand. It pulsed as he said the word, and his stomach lurched. It was a trick. It was Mr. Ashmedai controlling him. It had to be. But he couldn’t stop his reaction, no matter how much he wanted to. “Master,” he repeated. Another pulse, and finally he felt his cock lengthen, thicken, take on the shape that only David had coaxed out of it previously.
“You see? I own you.”
“You . . . own me.” He said it mechanically, the words manufactured in him and drawn out by Mr. Ashmedai’s desire to hear him say them. His hand moved quickly now. His foreskin slipped under his palm. Wetness welled at the slit of his cock. The longer he talked, the longer it’d take Mr. Ashmedai to reclaim his throat. “You own me, master.”
“Very good. That’s very good.” Mr. Ashmedai stroked his thumb over Tobias’s nipple again and sighed out contentedly. Heat washed over Tobias, crackling on his skin. “Keep saying it. Over and over again, Tobias. Close your eyes and say it, just like a prayer.”
Again, Mr. Ashmedai’s hands closed around the sides of his head. This time Tobias lolled back without hesitation, his mouth falling open.
You own me, master. You own me, master. He repeated it with every thrust of Mr. Ashmedai’s cock into his throat, every stroke of his hand on his own cock, and the more he thought it, the hazier his mind grew. Mr. Ashmedai’s presence was so thick, so heady, that Tobias felt like he was inhaling him. You own me, master. You own me, master.
He knew now, intrinsically, that Mr. Ashmedai could hear his thoughts. Mr. Ashmedai’s fingers framed Tobias’s temples, and Tobias understood that they were plunging into his mind, conquering him there, controlling him, as surely as Mr. Ashmedai’s cock was conquering his throat.
The more he repeated it, the more he believed it. He was on the edge of ecstasy, on a higher plane, cocooned by sweltering heat, so hot it felt like a punch to the lungs.
You own me, master.
His back arched right off of the altar, and he spent at last, soaking his fevered belly in bracingly cool seed.
The shaft shoved down his throat grew larger.
Impossible. But it wasn’t an illusion this time. He grabbed at his throat and felt it horribly misshapen, twice the size it should be.
His eyes snapped open, the trance he’d been in shattering as he saw, at last, Mr. Ashmedai’s face.
Black eyes. No—no, an absence of eyes. Only two deep, sucking voids. The red from the tabernacle seemed to have spread to cover the whole of Mr. Ashmedai’s skin. His curved eyeteeth were long now, longer than the rest of his teeth, which had all grown fearsome and sharp, gnashing over one another. His mouth stretched impossibly wide to hold them all, and a pair of fat ram’s horns framed his head.
Tobias jerked, suffocating, choking, clawing at the altar top. He’d . . . known, from the moment his candles had flickered, untouched by wind but manipulated by Mr. Ashmedai’s power, the same way Tobias was being manipulated now. He’d known that Mr. Ashmedai was capable of impossible things, beyond the power of man. But now he saw Mr. Ashmedai was more than a magician: he was a monster, hiding in human skin.
“Now, now.” Mr. Ashmedai drew back achingly slowly, taking his time ridding Tobias’s throat and mouth of his cock, which was as monstrous as the rest of him. Tobias scrabbled upright, coughing and clutching at his throat. Staring.
Mr. Ashmedai smiled with his hideous mouth and leaned close, spreading his hands open on the altar. They were tipped with ragged black claws, which cut into the wood without effort. Something lashed behind him—a snake’s tail, glistening in the candlelight.
“W-what . . .” Tobias managed, frozen in place.
“Are you really so surprised? Or were you just so convinced of your own righteousness that you refused to acknowledge that you were making a deal with a devil?”
Satan.
“No.” Exasperation clouded Mr. Ashmedai’s echoing voice. “A devil.” One side of his mouth quirked upward, revealing the length of his fangs, which were set deep into his cheeks. “Asmodeus, Tobias. My name is Asmodeus. Prince of Hell. Demon of lust. And may I say, on that count? You were irresistible.”
He reached for Tobias, who pushed back until he nearly fell off the altar, forcing himself not to scream. “Our deal is done! I fulfilled my half. Now fulfill yours.”
Asmodeus smiled as wide as he could, head nearly splitting at the seam and displaying all his jagged teeth. “Our deal is made, indeed,” he said. “But done? No.” He stepped around the side of the altar. His limp was more pronounced now, and when he came into the open, Tobias saw with horror that it was because his left leg was a rooster’s, garish and ghastly, moulded to his hip. The claws of that leg tapped on the stone floor of the church, ticking like a clock. One of Asmodeus’s massive hands grasped Tobias by the hair and lifted him clear off the altar by it. He struggled, clawing at his head, as Asmodeus grew, carrying him higher and higher, dangling him like a doll before tossing him down face-first onto the altar again.
“No!” He scrabbled against the wood, desperate to escape, but those giant hands just closed around his thighs, taking them as easily as he’d taken his cock in hand just minutes before. He felt himself yanked back. Positioned on his knees, arse in the air.
>
“Tut tut. What happened to ‘You own me, master’? Shall I take you out to some filthy alley in the rain and spread you on the cobblestones? Remind you just why you’re here?”
David. He was doing this for David. Suffering for David.
He couldn’t fail David now. Couldn’t lose him now.
“I-I’m sorry, master,” Tobias said. He fought all his instincts and went still. “I was afraid. I’m sorry.”
“You will be.”
At last, Asmodeus completed his claim. The pain of penetration whited out the world, left Tobias screaming into an abyss of agony. His fingers found no purchase on the altar, but he reached over it mindlessly, hoping he would find some edge to hold on to, to pull himself away from Asmodeus and his horrible cock.
But Asmodeus was too strong—even if Tobias had been able to reach, Asmodeus’s searing hands were on him, holding him and keeping him open for his prick.
His prick, which had turned as slimy and slithering as the serpent’s tail that swept the air behind them both, that coiled around Tobias’s thigh and tickled behind his bollocks. Inside him, Asmodeus’s cock pulsed and curled and twisted, stroking his guts, withdrawing, massaging some place along the walls of his channel that had his cock leaking on the altar all over again.
He wanted so badly to refuse. To rail back against Asmodeus and . . .
And what? He couldn’t bring himself to think the word “no,” much less fight Asmodeus. David’s life hung in the balance. If Tobias spared himself this pain now, David’s life was forfeit and all Tobias had suffered so far tonight would be for naught.
“Your body is much better at being receptive than you are.” For the first time, Asmodeus sounded out of breath, but his pounding rhythm didn’t falter. “Perhaps you should learn from it, Tobias. Give in to me. Not just your body. Your soul.” He grunted. Rutted forward hard, jolting the altar, seemingly jolting the church itself and the earth underneath it. The trappings of the church rattled. The crucifix came loose at the top and swung on the wall in a semicircle until it hung upside down.
“If you don’t,” Asmodeus said, “maybe I’ll send your prideful soul down to my brothers in Hell and keep your lovely body here as a fuck doll instead.”
No. No. Not my soul, no.
He couldn’t speak the words. He screamed in pain instead.
Asmodeus thrust hard, drove stigmata-deep into Tobias’s body. “Plant my wild seed inside you and see if it takes. See if you grow. I could live inside you, you know.”
Tobias shuddered, bearing Asmodeus’s rutting. As deep inside him as Asmodeus was now, Tobias could imagine him staying there forever, and the notion made every inch of him cringe.
“I could fuck your David, too,” Asmodeus said.
No, no. Please no.
“I’d make him cry with joy, instead of the sorrow you’ve given him. I’d make him spread himself for me like the whore he is, make him take my fist, take my cock, take my tail, take my horns. And he would revel in it. Tell me, Tobias, has he ever revelled in you?”
Once, maybe.
Before ego and denial had led him to shun David entirely, to the point of forgetting . . . Until, that was, David had forced Tobias to acknowledge him again and remember. And if David hadn’t been dying, if God hadn’t forced Tobias’s hand, rushing him to action, would he have remembered at all?
“Petty, cruel man. Tried to crush your lust, but killed your love instead. And here I am to collect you just the same.”
Collect me? Collect me? No, that wasn’t the deal!
“I know our deal, Tobias. And it’s true you have my word. But know this: if I weren’t such an honourable monster, it would be within my power to bring you to Hell all the same.” One of Asmodeus’s hands came down on the back of Tobias’s neck, pinning his face to the altar. Tobias wheezed through the burn. Thought he smelled the hair at his nape sizzling. “You’re the fool who made a pact with a demon. Everything you have now—dear David’s life and your own soul—is thanks to my generosity. Say thank you, Tobias.”
Tobias struggled to scrape the words together. “Thank—thank you.”
“Thank you, master.”
“Thank you, master,” Tobias panted, squeezing his eyes shut.
Asmodeus’s tail slithered up his body, looping and coiling around his throat before seeking entry into his mouth. He opened up. He received. His punishment. His repentance. His price.
And then Asmodeus pulled back. His massive cock retreated, leaving Tobias gaping and clenching and burning in his wake. Full of that unnatural lubricating slime. It slipped out of his hole and ran down his inner thighs.
“I accept your sacrifice. And I give you my blessing.” The demon roared out his climax. Scalding ropes of cum lashed across Tobias’s back and arse, burning into his skin like freshly melted wax.
Their pact, sealed.
David was safe.
It was over.
“Not quite,” Asmodeus whispered, turning Tobias onto his back again. Tobias whimpered at the press of the altar top on his fresh wounds. Asmodeus was in his human form again, clothed and looking down with those piercing eyes. “A pact like this must be renewed, you understand. To keep your David well.” He made a hawkish gesture with one hand. “There, now. Ta-da. He’s healed. Fit as a fiddle. Be sure to return here when November comes again, if you wish to see him remain so.”
Next November.
Next November, to renew the pact.
Asmodeus would take him this way again. And again, and again. As long as he and David lived.
“That’s right,” Asmodeus said fondly. He ruffled Tobias’s hair and pressed a soft kiss into his ravaged mouth. “See? I do own you, don’t I?”
You own me, master. The spell Asmodeus had cast . . . even now that they weren’t carnally joined, it still claimed Tobias’s mind. Maybe it always would.
Asmodeus shivered in delight. “Oh, I never tire of hearing that. Until next time, my little beauty.”
He disappeared, as unexpectedly as he’d appeared in the first place. Tobias was left aching and burned, body battered, barely able to dress himself for the terrible shaking that had found home in his muscles.
Eventually he managed to compose himself satisfactorily enough to make his way out of the—
. . . Church?
He spun in confusion. He recognised the street. Knew his way back to Clark Street and the Red Cock, where David would be well and waiting.
But the church—Asmodeus’s church—was gone. As if it had never existed, except within the confines of Tobias’s mind. There wasn’t even a space for it on the street. No empty lot where it may have once stood. It was lost, gone, vanished.
He had a feeling, though, that when next November came, he would find it here again.
Just as he knew, without a doubt, that as long as Tobias fulfilled his end of the bargain year after year, David would indeed remain well, giving Tobias all the time in the world to earn his forgiveness bit by bit. An honourable monster, Asmodeus had called himself, but maybe the moniker applied to Tobias, too.
Asmodeus had spoken many truths tonight.
Many truths, and one falsehood.
Because for all his talk of power and immortality and mastery, the demon Asmodeus was wrong about one crucial matter.
He didn’t own Tobias.
David did.
Lovingly dedicated to whoever wrote “The Demon of Detroit.” It’s all your fault. —Ally Blue
Huge thanks to everyone who I scarred with this story before sending it in. Angela Kay Austin, VJ Summers, MamaKitty, Shoshanna Evers, and Cat Grant, this one is for you. Also for Rachel and Tibby, who saw the greatness in my crazy. Lastly: Little Monster, may you never get captured by Fromunder. —Brien Michaels
Our thanks to the several Anglicans who volunteered their time and effort to look over the religious aspects of our story. Remaining mistakes are, as always, all ours. —Heidi Belleau and Sam Schooler
This is Rachel’s fault. —
Kari Gregg
For Jake, always handy with the right spell when I need him, and with thanks to Ariel for the generous supply of confidence. —Laylah Hunter
For S and K, whose fault this is. —Peter Hansen
ALLY BLUE:
Hell’s End (Hellscape book 1)
Demon Dog (Mojo Mysteries book 1)
The Mountain
Graceland
Convergence (Mother Earth book 3)
Shenandoah (Mother Earth book 2)
Dragon’s Kiss (Mother Earth book 1)
These Haunted Heights
Love, Like Ghosts
Bay City Paranormal Investigations series
The Happy Onion
For a complete list of titles, please visit allyblue.com
BRIEN MICHAELS:
Sparks Fly
Can’t Make You Love Me
My Only Wish (This Year)
Last Friday Night
As Long as You’re Mine
Not Like the Movies
HEIDI BELLEAU:
Rear Entrance Video
The Professor’s Rule, with Amelia C. Gormley
The Flesh Cartel, with Rachel Haimowitz
#First Impressions #Second Chances
The Druid Stone, with Violetta Vane
Hawaiian Gothic, with Violetta Vane
Mark of the Gladiator, with Violetta Vane
For a complete list, please visit heidibelleau.com/p/books.html.
KARI GREGG:
I, Omega
Collared
In the Red
Foreshock
Plunder
I Don’t: A Christmas Wish
Half a Million Dead Cannibals
An Unauthorized Field Guide to the Hunt
LAYLAH HUNTER:
A Fighting Chance
Cultural Hospitality (Masks Off Too! anthology)
Ivory Black, Flecked with White (Snow on the Roof anthology)
Safe Harbor
Ground Mission (All Wrapped Up anthology)
Devil’s Bargain, Devil’s Kiss
Direct Connection (Wired Hard 5 anthology)
Gabriel's City: A Tale of Fables and Fortunes (Coming soon)
PETER HANSEN:
