Victoria’s Demon Lover

by Alia Bess

  She rolled her eyes back and gasped, feeling him hard inside as the rippling waves of pleasure rolled over and over her. Her thighs trembled. Electric tingles flowed from her clit to her toes and back again. They faded slowly and she let her breath out, exhausted, and with that signal he started up again, slowly. She heard the slurping sound that meant there was no need for more butter. Her orgasm had slicked him with enough of her own juices to keep him wet for a long time. He increased the rhythm of his thrusts, intent on his own pleasure now. She watched his face with warm happy feelings of contentment.

  His cheek twitched, and then his lips parted as he gasped. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose. Victoria watched all the muscles of his shoulders, arms and chest ripple with his exertion as he entered her and pulled out again and again. The bed shook, the wood supports scraped on the stone floor. Her body bounced, making her breasts wobble. He grimaced and sucked air hard between his teeth as he thrust deep again and again, then one more time, holding himself against her hips as he shuddered his release. He pushed two more times until he had emptied himself. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. They were yellow, and he had a thick scar around his neck.

  Chapter Six

  Victoria blinked again and found herself in her own bed in the upstairs bedroom of the lake house. There were no thick rafters or rough thatch above her, only the stippled coating of a modern ceiling. There was no handsome blacksmith driving a hard cock between her legs. She squirmed a little and felt a wet spot under her bottom. She touched herself and felt something more slick than her own juices. She rubbed her fingers together. Butter. She shook her head. It can’t be. She glanced at the window then at the glowing digital clock beside her bed. After midnight. She swung her legs over and went to the bathroom cabinet and opened it. She took down the prescription bottle of a sedative the doctor had given her after the rape. She swallowed one without water and leaned against the sink.

  She had the strange thought that being crazy was better than being sane. She looked at herself in the mirror. Certainly these sexual excursions were entertaining. Her hair was mussed and her make-up smeared. More entertaining than real life. She took the two steps to the shower and turned on the water. As she washed herself she tried to imagine washing away everything: the demon touch, the horror of the morning in the elevator, and the embarrassment of the mall parking lot. And yet there were so many reasons to believe this was all as real as paying bills, buying groceries and watching television talent shows while eating a microwaved burrito.

  She toweled her hair and rubbed her face. But her demon had still not explained what it was that he wanted. He had said he needed a favor and then never asked for one. She stopped drying her leg. What could he possibly want from her that he had not already taken by force? She hung the towel over the curtain rod and stepped back into her bedroom. She was able to fumble in her dresser drawer for a nightgown without looking at it. She slipped it over her head. He appeared whenever he pleased, then pleasured himself and left. She had learned to enjoy most of his visits, but did not feel that she owed him a favor. If anything, he owed her one.

  But what could a human woman offer a demon? She felt the warm cuddly sensation that told her the sedative had entered her system. She crawled between the sheets again, careful to avoid the wet spot. She closed her eyes and asked nicely for a good night’s sleep with no interruptions.

  Her interruption came the next afternoon in the form of a visit from her sister and two nephews.

  “Vicki. Tell me. How does it feel to be rich?” Sharon wiped the snotty nose of her two-year-old.

  Victoria sipped her green tea. She felt better today than she had in a long time. It wasn’t just the sedative. Something had happened since the last encounter with the red demon. She shook her head to answer her sister.

  “I’m not that rich. Come on.” She had signed a document promising not to reveal the size of the settlement. People imagined it was millions. It wasn’t.

  Sharon set the little boy down and watched as he ran off to torment his older brother. The two little boys smashed toy fire trucks together and laughed at the carnage. “I know it is a lot to ask, but maybe we could move in with you.” Sharon glanced up at her.

  Victoria had expected something was up. “Did Mom put you up to this?”

  “Sort of.” Sharon lifted her own cup of tea.

  Victoria sighed. “Does she think I have gone crazy?”

  “Sort of.” Sharon laughed. “She watched you at the depositions and says you are ‘not right’.”

  Victoria experienced the unusual feeling of agreeing with her mother. “What makes her think that living with you and two energetic preschoolers will make me ‘right’?”

  Sharon shrugged. “I can’t pay my bills. Bob isn’t sending child support regularly. I already work two jobs and day-care eats up most of what I earn. I guess she just saw you alone with tons of money and me like this and put two and two together.”

  Victoria was used to the way her mother thought. Everything was a puzzle that needed to be put together, regardless of what anyone else wanted. She sighed. “Of course I will help you out, Sharon, but I am not sure I am ready to live with these kids.” The boys had abandoned the car crashes and were now chasing each other, the fire trucks had become clubs.

  “Me either,” Sharon sighed. “I always wanted kids.” She grinned at Victoria. “Before I had them.”

  Victoria knew she was teasing. Sharon loved her little boys. But she nodded, remembering how she had wanted things. “When I was a teenager,” Victoria said, “I wanted a car. Then when I was eighteen, I wanted out of the house and away from Mom and Frank.” Victoria stretched out one leg and looked at the fuzzy slipper on her foot. “Then when I was in college I wanted to graduate. After that I wanted a job. When I got the job I wanted my own office. After that I wanted a raise.” She looked at Sharon. “We always seem to want something we don’t have, and once we get it we want something else. It never ends.”

  “What do you want now, Vickie?” Sharon asked.

  Victoria sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe not knowing what I should be wanting next is causing me so much trouble.”

  Sharon asked, “Can we move into the downstairs bedroom?”

  Victoria nodded absently. Maybe the presence of two boys under the age of five would keep the demon away. She glanced up at them, wrestling against the sofa like two puppies. Or maybe not. She frowned. If not, she would have to leave. The demon would follow her. She would not have him tormenting children with nightmares. She looked up at the ceiling. “You owe me a favor, then,” she said. She could not say no to her sister and her mother. Or the demon. Maybe that was her problem.

  “Yes. A big favor.” Sharon answered.

  Victoria let her sister think she had spoken to her.

  That night she had coffee late and sat alone in her bedroom listening to soft music. She waited for him. He must know that her sister would be moving in next weekend. He must have an opinion.

  He did. He appeared in a flash of light in the corner. This time he looked like a Roman soldier. She blinked her surprise, then laughed a little. “Is this how we will be playing this game? Will this be a romp through history?”

  “Not a game, Victoria.” He was in a different body. His eyes and hair were dark. He was short and stocky with powerful arms and an impressive chest. It was a different body from the Norseman or the blacksmith, but she recognized the yellow eyes and the strange scar around his throat. The leather skirt thing that Roman soldiers wore covered the top of his corded thighs. Leather sandals were wound around his calves with thick straps up to his knees. She liked this body, but did not like the tone of his voice.

  “You know about my sister?” She challenged him.

  “Yes. She will not stay long if I appear in her bedroom one night as the red one with the horns. You should have just sent her money. I made sure you had plenty.”

  “My family thinks something is wrong with me.�
�� She countered. “They don’t want me to be alone.”

  “And yet you are not, are you Victoria?” He moved closer and Victoria found herself scooting away from him toward the headboard.

  “You might not want someone else to see you,” she challenged.

  “No one sees me unless I want them to.” His yellow eyes were hard. He was angry. “You are making this more difficult than it has to be by involving your sister.”

  She tilted her head, ‘What do you mean by ‘this’?” She realized she was having an actual conversation with the demon. “The sex?”

  He stopped halfway across her room. His face was disappointed for a moment, then he appeared resigned. “Nothing Victoria? Nothing yet?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Amazing and exciting sex…what more?” She looked hard at him. He had never demanded anything more than her body and the release of her will. Always she had been his passive plaything. Her fear of him had kept her pliable and contrite. But now she felt some of that fear fade away. The more he looked like a man, the less he frightened her. But those eyes. The yellow eyes were there to remind her in case she became too complaisant. She would have to learn to say no.

  “What about this?” He strode forward and extended his hand and she took it without thinking about saying “no”.

  She stood beside him in a large room. Marble columns were spaced regularly throughout the large space. The walls were plaster and the floors polished stone, though you could hardly see the floor. Scattered from wall to wall were cushions and thick woven mats and blankets. On these cushions lay men and women on all ages, shapes and sizes. A second look revealed that only the men were all ages and shapes and sizes. Most of the women were young and beautiful. There were a few older ones, but they did not look like servants. She quickly looked down at herself. She was smaller than usual and thinner. Many colorful silk veils covered her legs. Tiny bells were sewn into the hems of the veils and tinkled pleasantly when she moved. Her breasts were bare, though she wore a gorgeous heavy necklace that was more like a breastplate. She fingered the blue and red beads that made up the pattern that extended from shoulder to shoulder.

  “Wow. Nice.” The veils were attached to a soft belt tied around her hips. She reached down to touch it and realized that the belt and the veils were more like decoration than clothing. She was naked, but for the belted veils and the collar. He was also nearly naked. The Roman leather skirt barely covered him. He had nothing beneath it. She felt his hand on the small of her back as he gently nudged her.

  “Look around,” he murmured.

  She did. The huge room was obviously a setting for an elaborate party. She watched as scantily clad servants, both male and female, served drinks and fruit from trays. Musicians played soft music from flutes and lyres near the wall. The reclining figures on the floor were engaged in various acts of pleasure. Some were actively pumping away in sweaty exertion, but most were fondling each other and drinking from silver cups.

  “Is this a Roman orgy? Cool.”

  The demon shook his head. “Yes. And no. It is just a party. The orgy is planned for later.”

  Victoria turned her head to watch the couple pounding their hips behind her. “They look like they think it has started already.”

  He laughed shortly. “At every party there are assholes.”

  She turned to him sharply. He quickly composed his face to look serious again; the yellow eyes lost their humor.

  “Here,” he said, “look.” He pointed to two big doors across the loom that opened slowly. The musicians stopped playing and most of the conversation stilled. A Roman soldier came through the doors, followed by several others, then one in a breastplate who walked like he was important. This man carried a flail with short leather thongs that hung from one end. “Be silent and watch the general,” the demon warned.

  The general addressed the room. “Friends! I welcome you to my house on this wonderful evening. I trust you have all been properly served and are comfortable. The women have been here from the start, but now it is time to bring in the men. “ Here,” he moved his arm to indicate one of the other soldiers, “are the finest of his men, and also some of the recent captives from the galleys.”

  With that, the musicians began to play again as the soldiers moved aside to allow the men to enter the room. Victoria understood why her demon had warned her to be silent. The men who entered the room were chained together wrist to wrist. They were all tall and heavily muscled. Some were black, their heads shaved and polished. Others were various shades of bronze and a few were as white as the plaster walls. Each was completely naked except for his chains. None looked particularly happy to have been invited to this party. Victoria glanced up at her demon, hoping he might give her an explanation.

  He shook his head slightly and kept his eyes on the man in the breastplate. She turned back to the parade of flesh. The other party guests were also interested. They sat up straighter and the buzz of conversation dulled to a murmur.

  The soldiers attached the long chain to two thick rings set in the wall. The men lined up with their backs to the plaster wall and stared out over the heads of the guests. The general marched up and down the row, tapping the chests and rippled abdomens with the flail in his hand. “Excellent. Some of these men are the victorious gladiators from this week’s event. Others are fresh from the oars. This one,” he tapped the broad chest of a big man with red hair and white skin dotted with orange freckles, “Is a captive Gaul. Hard to miss this one. I had him brought in. Look at this.” He used the flail to lift the man’s long red hair. It was the color of burnished copper and had been washed and combed carefully to bring out the bright highlights. “Julia has asked for this one, so he is the only one off-limits.” He turned and smiled broadly to his guests. “When these are spent, there are more in the next room.” He raised the flail and the musicians played louder. This must have been a signal as many of the guests got up from their cushions and moved toward the chained men. Not just the women.

  Victoria looked to the demon for an explanation.

  He pushed her to follow the others. As she moved she felt hands grasping at her ankles. She stumbled and hopped on one foot. One of her ankles was in the hand of a man on a cushion. A man obviously not interested in the galley slaves or gladiators. She wiggled her leg, trying to release her foot, then her demon was there and with a kick and a fierce growl he made her captor release her ankle, cursing.

  “Damn,” she exhaled, “So that is how it is.”

  “Yes,” the demon soldier answered with a glare at the man on the floor. “You are not a fine lady, Victoria. Your collar marks you as a slave girl, so any man who catches you can have you. Stay by me.”

  “I will.” She meant it.

  The captive men were being closely examined by the guests. Both men and middle aged women looked them up and down. The guests poked their bodies and stroked their muscles. Some of the women fondled their cocks and ticked their balls and commented on how quickly or slowly the cocks filled and became firm. The ginger one was guarded by a soldier, but the others were pawed over and examined carefully. One of the older women raised her arm high and when she caught the attention of a soldier, pointed to a tall man with an impressive cock, half raised from her touch. This man wore a metal cuff around his neck attached to a second chain that ended in the hands of his keeper, another soldier.

  The soldier tugged him away from the others. “Where is she taking him?” she whispered to the demon.

  “Not far,” he answered. “See? She has girls to help her.”

  Victoria moved to see better. Yes. The matron might not have enough of her faded charms left to make her man stand. She had three pretty little slave girls following her. One carried a small tray with some crockery on it, one carried something in her hand, and the other carried nothing. The matron stood her man up against a column. The soldier stood by to enforce his good behavior. One of the girls knelt between the man’s muscled legs and tilted her head back. She open
ed her mouth and took one of his balls into her mouth. Victoria watched as she rolled it around her cheek, first one then the other. The man’s cock stiffened further to the murmured appreciation of the matron.

  Another girl stepped forward with something in her hand. Victoria peeked out from behind the demon to see it better. It looked like a dildo carved from ivory. It was slightly curved and the tip had been carved into the rounded shape of a man’s penis, though somewhat smaller. The girl moved behind the bound man and stroked the muscled of his buttocks. Victoria could see that he clenched them tightly against the prodding tip of the dildo. The matron clucked and shook her head sadly. She reached out and ran her hands over the man’s chest, looking up into his face. She said something to him that Victoria could not hear. His buttocks relaxed. The slave girl rubbed the tip of the dildo with oil from one of her cohort’s crocks, then slid it very slowly between the cheeks of his ass. His thighs trembled and he arched his back against the column behind him. The girl sucking his balls paused as the tip slowly disappeared inside him. His cock responded to the internal pressure by growing harder and rising higher. The matron smiled, still stroking him. Her ringed fingers touched him lightly on each nipple, then fluttered down over his pects and lower over the ridges and furrows of his abdomen.

  The girl between his legs began to softly lick his balls again and the girl behind him moved her hand between the cheek of his buttocks. The man closed his eyes and groaned. Victoria wondered how long it would take him to sink to his knees. He was shaking already.