A Demon's Bargain

I rolled the signed paper into a tight, neat curl, then burned it in my fist. Admittedly, that was purely for show, the Big Man needed no hard copies once the act was performed; the commitment had been made. But I had learned, over the years, that a little bit of mysterious pomp and circumstance helped to emphasize the finality of the situation to my new queen-for-an-as-yet-to-be-determined-length-of-time.

Well, this time, I supposed, I actually did have a hideously, unseemly-long minimum most definitely determined. But, so help me, I would last the next month and feast on her sweet suffering if the bloody Rapture came upon us, heralding the Apocalypse! But Father hadn't said anything or looked particularly busy over the last week, though, so it seemed highly unlikely. But even so, should it come, (Y/N) had just made a bargain that ensured she wouldn't be going anywhere, I imagined, at least not right away. We'd have plenty of time. So long as I stuck it out for a month, she was MINE forever. I could almost taste the purity of her tears already!

As our deal went up in flames, I was actually a bit charmed to see (Y/N) smile with delight. She had a very pretty, shy smile. Most women shrieked and recoiled in horror when I ignited our contract. "Wonderful!" She looked up at me with warm and bright mahogany eyes full of enthusiasm.

I gave her my best smile. "Indeed you are! Let us wash your wounded finger, and provide it with the care it deserves. You must tend to such beautiful skin with care, lest it grow leathery and hard like mine."

Many women, by this point, were tearing my clothes off and giving me instructions on exactly how to service them, as though I couldn't read their bodies like instruction manuals. Occasionally, there were a few airheads who were frightened of the flaming contract and needed comforting. Banter was... uncommon.

(Y/N) fell right into my ploy as she let me take her hand and walk her to the sink. "Your skin isn't hard-"

I tutted her. "My dear, when your silky skin presses against mine, or your full lips caress my own, parts of me swiftly take on that characteristic. Your touch alone beseeches my body to act in haste, it clouds my mind to the point where speech becomes difficult. Your honeyed lips left me only able to grunt, as I recall."

(Y/N) blushed as she washed her hands in the sink. It was a high sink for her, and she bent over slightly to use it. If kissing (Y/N) alone had been enough to temporarily soothe my hunger pangs, I could hardly wait to fuck her, to play her body like a piano. I bet I could get a real meal between her legs, just by bringing her to orgasm. Though my stomach no longer pained me, it still felt abnormally taut and empty. I didn’t care for that.

And, truthfully, though I hadn't really thought about it, I hadn't gotten off in a while. (Y/N) would be a very fine way to break my drought. She really did have soft skin, was very well made, and I could tell she was exceptionally well lubricated. Unusual, but I found myself looking forward to the act of sowing my seed. Perhaps because it had been so long?

I contemplated her fine ass and wondered if she liked anal. Whether she did or not, I'd definitely have to position her, while I was in one orifice or another, so I could watch-

"Andy?" She turned, smiling in her habitually demure fashion.

(Y/N) was throbbing with a veritable avalanche of unfulfilled desires. I could smell how wet her sex was growing from where I stood, how her arousal had soaked into so much of the clean, cotton material of the panties she wore under her pajamas, permeating them. Silly woman, who wore panties under sleepwear? Indeed, who wore pajamas at all? Soon I'd break her of that habit. (Y/N) really was remarkably attractive, and even an old tom like me enjoyed the sight of a striking woman. Sleeping au naturel would also make it easier to stimulate her nerve endings, in order to get a snack, what with fewer clothes to get through.

Of course, as per usual, I had to revel a bit in the fact that (Y/N)'s surging reactions were all in response to me. What was different from the norm was how strongly (Y/N) was reacting, and how little it took from me to get her going. Just from looking at me, drinking me in with her eyes, her body would shiver.

Her gaze ran slowly up my front, and I could sense the axons on the neurons of her brain, releasing more, and yet still more endorphins every time she saw my chest rise and fall, or my Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as I swallowed. She wanted to be held, held close, treasured.

I sensed the shift in lobe location, slight alterations in transmitters. (Y/N) had begun the transfer. She no longer yearned to be held and treasured by just any man. She wanted this man to do it. Indeed, my princess, so I shall. And then I will eat you alive. I hummed happily to myself. MINE.

And yet, (Y/N) just smiled shyly, looked away, and, rather than suggesting (or just launching into) some erotic act, said, "Would you like something to drink?"

The woman had just surrendered all possibility of future romantic happiness and fulfillment outside of whatever fleeting pleasures it entertained me to share with her, (assuming I achieved my month-long goal, which I would, I always got what I wanted), and that was what she said? Her desperation was so great, I supposed I should be grateful (Y/N) was concerned in advance for the state of my hydration. It was rather thoughtful of her, really, to see that I was fit enough to pleasure her. Doubtless, our fornication could take a while. However, I had no need of human beverages.

"If I may be direct, (Y/N), what I thirst for most is your carnal embrace." Her reaction was mixed and complex: her heart raced, I heard her exceptionally moist, hot pussy contract, but her expression was slightly fearful. What could that mean? Other than that I clearly had to implement immediate damage control!

I held out my hands in what I hoped was a placatory gesture. "Please, never fear, I will never force myself upon you, nor pressure you into any act, it's not my way. When I say I hunger for your touch, I mean it literally. It is by fulfilling you, gratifying you, that my hungers are appeased, it is how I eat, the way I feed. The chemicals your brain releases when I stimulate your private, erogenous zones have the tendency to quell my appetite with greater efficiently, but it's not the only way to keep me from starving. As long as you are happy with me, my pet, and pay me some mind, I'll not waste away."

What I said was true. I would never convince any woman to do things they genuinely had no desire to do. Reputation aside, forced acts simply yielded too little benefit. And, though I was loathe to admit it, I did have somewhat of a moral compass, though stunted. I just kept that to myself, outside of human company. I had clearly spent too much time around human women and it had worn off on me. Ugh. If that got around it would do me no favors.

I contemplated (Y/N) with the most concerned, expressive look I could muster. I supposed we were going to have to suck face virtually 24/7 so that I didn’t starve or have to leave. Shit. This would be exhausting.

Oddly, (Y/N) looked deeply troubled as she stared intensely at the ground for a moment. She glimpsed briefly up at me. "If... If sex is what is best for you Andy, what you need, um, of course, I can do that." She sounded frightened as she held her arms tightly, hugging herself. I blinked, not understanding. "Would it be alright if I took a few minutes to get ready?"

I sensed something was terribly wrong with this situation, (Y/N) clearly did not sound like she wanted to have sex. Why was she initiating it? I needed to buy some time to reason this through, try and put myself in the mindset of a lonely, miserable, horny, human woman. I nodded. "You are already everything I could want, but go ahead, if that is what you truly desire."

(Y/N) looked terribly apologetic. "I'm so sorry, I'll do my best to dress up a bit, this must be so unpleasant for you." I raised an eyebrow, totally lost, until (Y/N) gave me a very platonic, reassuring pat on the arm before she went into her bedroom. The contact was enough to give me some insight. Oh.

Damn. (Y/N)'s emotions were so strong I could sense a bit of them, a rarity. She was really apprehensive. She doubted herself; had clearly been told nasty things by others. I felt a flicker of frustration. She may have even signed just for my company, the brief connection. I was certain she thought herself so repulsive, she really thought flirtation and kissing was as far as I was going to go. She was actually upset on my behalf, that she should be so unappealing for me, if I truly required sex... What the fuck?!?

I squatted, once again finding myself waiting outside (Y/N)'s bedroom. How could I make a woman who loved herself so very little enjoy her time with me at all? Almost all of the women I was with hated things about themselves, but (Y/N) took the cake. I wondered what on Earth had happened to her to twist and warp her so, when she was unmistakably so pleasant to look at. Though definitely peculiar, and stubborn, she seemed nice enough. She went so far as loathing herself so much, she appeared more interested in pleasing me, in what I wanted. (Y/N) was a total mindfuck.

Well... (Y/N) would have what she liked, then. She was the boss. For now. She wanted to do I wanted, eh? I thought about it for a moment, then rose and stretched, before bursting through the door to (Y/N)'s bedroom with a dramatic, hopefully suitably demonic-sounding snarl.

Notes

My co-conspirator has chosen a name. The Unforgiven is watching from the shadows. Watch your backs. }:-D