TEACHER (DEVIL INSIDE) 1

Feature Writer: MeanMrMoutarde

Feature Title: Teacher (Devil Inside) 1

Published: 15.12.2021

Story Codes: Erotic Horror

Synopsis: Every single one of us has the devil inside

Author’s Notes: Trigger warning: this story contains elements of suicidal thoughts, physical abuse and non-consensual sex. If those topics are a turn-off regardless of what the rest of the story includes, then you should probably look elsewhere. Everyone engaged in sexual activity in this story is over eighteen. Your comments and ratings are seriously appreciated!

Teacher (Devil Inside) 1

Sir:

Michael Hutchence was not wrong. Everyone does have the devil inside. Only in my case, you can take that literally. Okay, maybe not the Devil. But a devil. Or demon. Or imp. Or something.

Just a couple of years ago, I was an ordinary guy leading an ordinary life. I was reasonably successful and fairly happy with my job as a software sales rep. Sure, I spent a lot of time on the road, but I was good at it so the money was great and I figured that at thirty-two, I had a couple more years to make my mark and then start worrying about family and the future.

Then Salt Lake City happened.

I was at a bar in a non-descript mid-priced hotel near the airport on the north side of the city, getting ready to call it a night and turn in. I had a flight back home scheduled for 2.00 pm, which gave me time to write up my notes from the meetings I’d had that day.

I had just signaled the bartender for the check when a wild-eyed older man stepped up to the bar next to me and grabbed my wrist. I felt a shock travel up my arm, like I had plunged it into a tub of ice water. I yelped and shook him off, but not all that hard.

Nevertheless, he fell to the concrete floor and it was pretty obvious that he was dead before anyone even thought about checking for a pulse. EMS was there pretty quickly but of course all they could do is declare him to be in the condition we had already surmised and take the body away.

I suddenly felt exhausted and after charging my drinks to my room, I stumbled for the elevator and made my way back to my room on the third floor.

My next conscious thought was that the bed was a lot more comfortable than I remembered. Then I realized that I wasn’t in my room at all — and that the huge bed I was lying in was covered in sticky pools of congealing blood.

I let out an unmanly yip and slid out of the bed, looking around enough to realize that I was in a much nicer room than my own, that I was completely naked and that the blood was most likely not from me, as I seemed to be uninjured. And there was a lot of blood.

Checking the obligatory sign on the back of the hotel room door, I confirmed that I wasn’t in my hotel. I wasn’t even in Utah. In fact, I was in one of Vegas’ better-known hotels, likely in a high rollers suite. There was no sign of where the body that had produced the copious amounts of blood was and in my shocked state of mind, all I could think to do was get dressed and drive back to Salt Lake City, if in fact my rental was here.

I got dressed and made it to the parking deck without anyone stopping me and used the remote clicker to find the rental Nissan Maxima. It was about 5.30 am and I kept looking over my shoulder, expecting to be arrested at any second.

Instead, I drove up I-15 like a bat out of hell, quickly changed clothes and checked out of my hotel and headed for SLC. I was terrified that I would get pulled from the TSA line, but I boarded without incident and made it home to Raleigh with no issues.

“Normal” only lasted a couple of weeks. I tried to forget about what I internally referred to as “The Incident”. After a few days with no authorities come around to ask questions, I started to think that I was home-free, despite the number of cameras that are everywhere in Vegas.

Then the voices started. Or maybe just one voice, mostly speaking in a low, guttural, unintelligible language but sometimes using a much higher feminine but no less hideous voice. I couldn’t understand any words, but there was an urgency building, like something was coming that I needed to react to.

I knew better than to tell anyone about it, so I suffered in silence, getting shorter and less patient with my co-workers and even my boss as the urgency grew. Then I blacked out again.

This time I had images of an older woman, a brunette with touches of grey — being ripped limb from limb. The screams were heart-rending. I even had images of dumping what little was left of the body into the nearby river. And again, there was so much blood — in her apartment, running down the stairs, and all over the strange car (hers?) that I parked at the edge of the shopping center a half mile from my apartment.

The voices stopped again for a while. And again, no one came to arrest me for a grisly murder. Furthermore, I realized that I was now hearing not just the voice, but the thoughts of others. That took my mind off of the bloody business for a little while as I spent a few days trying to understand this ability, which quickly also became the ability to somewhat control others’ thoughts and actions as well.

Some of these things required huge amounts of energy and I collapsed for a day or so afterwards. Some I found that I could do easily, with very little energy expended at all. Making physical changes or making people do something physical was hard. Making someone want to do something was relatively easy. So making someone physically drive to the store for ice cream was hard but it took nothing to make them want to do it so badly that there was no talking them out of it. And reading minds required almost no energy at all.

I was somewhat prepared the next time the voice started getting louder. I had a sense of how much time I had and I made my way into an area of downtown that was known for homeless people. It was horribly cruel and callous of me — homeless people are people, after all — but I was selfishly trying to protect myself.

This time I was fully aware of what was going on. I could see through the mind of the two victims — while they could see a dim outline of me, what they mostly saw was an 8-foot-tall demon with brown-green scaly hide, massively-clawed hands and feet and a grotesque face with a short snout and a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth.

As their terrified screams went unheeded into the night, I could feel the energy from their terror suffusing every part of us (I could only think of the demon and me as “us” now) with an incredible dark energy. I looked down to see an evil-looking, enormous erection, easily eighteen inches long, as thick as a man’s wrist and covered in thick veins.

I was not a bad person and I knew I couldn’t go on like this. I considered suicide but, when I tried, the demon stopped me. He/she/it didn’t have complete control but it was enough to avert the gunshot to my head and, in another attempt, to whip the wheel of my car at the last moment to avoid the bridge abutment.

So I decided instead to find a way to control it. I researched on the Internet and in libraries up and down the East Coast, particularly in religious universities, neglecting work until I finally just called up my boss and quit one day. I had enough money saved that I could spend a few months researching.

And then it hit me that I could also make use of the damn powers that I seemed to be gaining. I spent some time with a couple of accountants and a couple of bankers and soon had untraceable bank accounts in the Caymans and other safe havens that they would never remember. And like any red-blooded American male with a limited imagination, I was soon sporting a twelve-inch cock and a much better physique than before.

That expenditure of energy brought the need to feed back more quickly but I’d had an idea. There are somewhere around forty-five thousand suicides a year in the US. Why not use my mind-reading abilities to try to find someone about to do themselves in and target them? They were going to die anyway, right?

I really didn’t work the math out on this plan very well — statistically it was a very stupid idea and was never going to work. Winning the lottery was almost as likely. Except that by some quirk of fate, it did work. Quite well, at least once.

I’d been traveling around, trying to make sure that when it came time to feed again, I wouldn’t be in the same neighborhood as any previous time. So I was in a small town south of Nashville on a Friday evening in late May when I felt the voice, which had steadily been growing louder, suddenly get more strident.

I pulled into a Walgreens at about 5pm and scanned the people in the store. There were a couple of older people in line for prescriptions that were contemplating death, but only in the abstract as something they realized was relatively near. There was at least one person considering killing someone else, but not themselves.

And then I heard her as she stood in line to check out, large bottle of sleeping pills in hand. Janelle, her name was, and she was at the end of her rope. Her husband had died in Iraq a few years before and her life had been pretty much hell ever since. Her students at the high school had no respect for her, the administration kept passing her over for better assignments — she was convinced that was because she wouldn’t put out for the principal. So now she was ready to make it all go away.

I followed her out of the store and pulled my rental car behind her aging Toyota Yaris. One of the first things I’d figured out how to do was cloud minds so that I was invisible. She pulled up to the small house whithout her seeing me and I heard her thinking about how her husband would be ashamed of her but she was at the end of her rope. I entered the house unseen behind her.

She poured herself a big glass of white wine in the kitchen before heading back to the bedroom with her purchase from the drug store. I could see that she had been quite the head-turner ten years before but grief and time and neglect had worked their dark magic on her. I felt so bad for her, but I didn’t see anything I could do for her. And the demon needed to feed.

I clouded her vision of us (the demon and me) until she laid back on the bed and took a big gulp of wine to steady her nerves. As she opened the bottle, we stood up, our head brushing the ceiling of her bedroom. I dropped the veil and watched her eyes grow wide as 8 feet of hideous demon stood before her and started across the small room.

She shrieked, and we fed on her terror. She screamed until her throat was raw as we reached out with a clawed hand and with one swipe, ripped through her sweatshirt and bra, leaving her naked to us from the waist up. She had very large breasts that were sagging a bit but were still impressive, and once again we sported a nasty, lethal-looking erection.

She looked down our ridiculously large member and I could feel her shock (and my own) when she realized that she was suddenly aroused. It had been so long since anyone had needed her, for any fucking reason, that even a demon moving to devour her gave her proof that someone, or something, wanted her.

We moved our clawed hand down and ripped her yoga pants and panties off of her, leaving her naked and panting, too terrified to scream anymore. Then she looked again at our outrageous erection and her want, her need, was so powerful that it hit us like a freight train.

The demon part of me stepped back, having never experienced anything other than fear at its presence. But then it hit me — what if fear and terror weren’t the only emotions that a demon could feed on. What about lust? Greed? Envy? I turned back to Janelle and invaded her mind again, feeling and feeding her wanton visions of being invaded by that impossible cock, knowing that the length and girth would kill her but not caring — just wanting the momentary pleasure of being wanted before she died.

We reached down with clawed hands and picked her up at the waist and impaled her on our demon dick. I used the demon’s powers to rearrange her inside, so she could take it without permanent harm. She screamed, both in agony and in ecstasy, as our phallus invaded her. I could feel her mind changing as the lust and pleasure over-powered her despair — she wanted to live, if only to feel like this again.

Her cunt was like molten lava, like the fires of Hell that had spawned my demon, and we moved together until we, and she, shouted meaningless words as she came and we spurted our dark seed inside her demonically-extended cunt.

Janelle:

She woke up a little later than usual on Saturday, the sun streaming in through the window into her little bedroom. She stretched and yawned, then looked down to see the bruises and welts that covered her body. She screamed, but cut it off almost before it started. As the memories of the previous night came flooding back, she found herself finding some distance from them, almost as if she had watched them rather than lived them.

She thought for a moment that she should call the police, but what could she say — that an eight-foot tall, green-brown, scaly-hided demon had raped her? And that she had somehow not only survived it, she’d enjoyed it? Sure, that would work.

She made her way to the shower, turning the water up as hot as she could stand it. She didn’t detect the dark figure in the corner by the toilet. Nor did she notice that as she scrubbed her face, the accumulated frown lines and wrinkles of the previous decade were rubbed out.

She squeezed more body wash on a scrubbie and started working on her breasts, oblivious to how the more she rubbed and caressed them, the higher and more proudly they sat on her chest, looking much more like her twenty-two-year-old self than her current tired thirty plus.

As she continued her shower, she rubbed her waist thinner, her butt higher and tighter and the extra fat right out of her thighs. If the mirror hadn’t been fogged up, she might have looked at herself and noticed that she looked like she did when she graduated from college almost ten years earlier. As she dried herself off, she ignored the tingle as all of her dark pubic hair came off onto her towel and a small glyph tattoo appeared just above her mons.

The smell of coffee hit her as she wrapped herself in a short robe and walked through the living room into the small kitchen. She didn’t remember having set up the coffee maker but she seemed to be forgetting a lot of things lately, like why she had stopped at the drug store the night before.

The coffee was perfect, and she took a careful sip before walking back into the living room. That was when she saw him, the dark man sitting casually on her somewhat ratty sofa. She shrieked and the coffee mug slipped from her fear-numbed fingers.

She was too terrified to move or to continue screaming, but she did look down long enough to see the descent of the coffee mug stop three inches from the floor, catching up the coffee that was falling so that not a single drop was spilled.

She looked back at the dark man and he grinned at her, motioning for her to grab the cup. She did, and then sat down on the edge of the old armchair that had been her refuge from school, and from life, the past few years, holding the now-suspect coffee mug at arms length.

“You have questions,” the dark man said. Fucking right she did, she thought. She took a cautious sip of the coffee before responding.

“Yes, I do. Who the fuck are you and what the fuck are you doing in my house,” she demanded, trying to seem tough in spite of being completely at a loss for what was going on.

“You can call me… ‘Sir’, I think,” he said. She looked at him again, a little more closely. Her original impression required some revision. He was not dark-skinned, although his hair and clothes were dark. There was also a dark – ‘aura’ was the best word she could come up with, like he was wreathed in shadow.

He continued, “As for why I am in your house, let me say that I learned something valuable from you last night. I think you learned something too. Maybe there’s a reason for you to live. Maybe I can help you with that.”

She continued to register more and more about him. As she saw beyond the shadows surrounding him, she saw a reasonably good-looking man about her own age, but with a presence that she’d never experienced before. It seemed to calm her down, when she should be screaming and running from the house, calling for the cops. “How, how can you help me?” she asked. “I’m not even sure what I need help with.”

He looked her in the eyes and she felt like he was boring a hole into her soul. “Your beloved husband is dead in a stupid war, the school administrators ignore you or work to make your life more miserable, you think you’re in love with one of your fellow teachers but you’re too afraid of rejection to talk about it with her and your students torment you. I can help you with all of that. Who is Jenny?”

Janelle started at that name. That vile name. “How do you know about Jenny? That girl is the devil. Her life’s work seems to be to make my life a living hell. She is pure evil.”

Sir looked at her and gave her a small smile. “Janelle, I can help you fix all of this, except your husband. Jenny included. You just have to give yourself to me.” He was bullshitting about the last, but he wanted her to commit. It would make what he was loosely planning a lot easier.

“Give myself to you,” she said. She meant it to come out sarcastically but it sounded more pensive than anything else. “What exactly does that entail?”

He smiled at her, a little more feral than before. “Exactly like what it sounds like, Janelle. You will be mine, to do with as I will. You’re a gorgeous young woman — I think we can think of a few things.”

She looked down at herself and realized that he was telling the truth. It was the first time it registered with her that she looked fantastic — like the last ten years had never happened. She looked back at the strange man on her sofa, drinking her coffee and without giving it much thought, simply said, “Okay.”

He stood and held out a hand to her, pulling her up out of her chair. “Let’s start in the bedroom.”

Her heart raced as she preceded him into the back of the house, feeling his eyes boring in on her round ass barely hidden by her robe. As they entered her bedroom, he reached ahead and pulled the robe from her shoulders leaving her bare to his view and to his touch.

She turned around to face him and found herself shivering at the hunger she saw in his eyes — a hunger different from what she remembered from the night before. This hunger was familiar, much like her own — the need to feel another person, to give and take pleasure, to let themselves go completely, even if only for a little while.

She suddenly realized that he was naked, although she couldn’t figure out how he could have disrobed so quickly. She noted the curves of his muscular arms, the tight abs, and then his cock — holy fuck, what a cock! It wasn’t the obscene thing of her nightmare the night before. It was beautiful and huge and hard as a rock.

She dropped to her knees next to her bed, prepared to worship Sir’s dagger. He smiled down at her and she stopped thinking real thoughts after that. She looked up at the largest cock she’d ever seen, even in the porn she sometimes guiltily watched. She had both hands wrapped around it and there was still four inches of huge dick that she somehow opened her mouth wide enough to take in.

She heard a grunt from Sir and looked up to see that his eyes were closed, his head slightly back and his chest heaving with desire. He wanted her and that meant everything in the world. She slowly pulled her head back before lowering it again, taking more of this miraculous cock into her mouth and, somehow, her throat, until she had at least ten inches buried inside her, with only a couple more inches remaining.

Sir was panting now as she worked his cock in and out of her mouth, drool running down her chin and covering her beautiful restored boobs. She looked up at him and he opened his eyes and looked into hers as she grabbed his ass cheeks and pulled him forcefully towards her, finally swallowing those last two inches of dick.

He exploded then, cumming down her throat without ever breaking eye contact. It seemed like the proudest moment of her life, like she had a purpose that she hadn’t know before. She had a couple of little orgasms of her own, without even touching herself, while Sir’s monster cock drained into her.

He finally gave a little sigh, then reached down and picked Janelle up under her arms and lifted her onto the bed. He wrenched her legs apart and leaned down to devour her sopping wet pussy. There was no tease, no foreplay — this was a hunger that could only be sated by licking her to a huge orgasm.

Her insides were on fire as he attacked her with his tongue, which was somehow almost as long as his dick. He was penetrating her with his tongue in ways that none of her other lovers had even managed with their cocks. Sir’s fingers flew over her clit and his tongue somehow pressed against her g-spot and soon she came hard, screeching his name and giving thanks to whatever demon brought them together.

He didn’t give her time to come down as he moved up between her widespread legs and slid his massive dick inside her. She didn’t need any supernatural help in accommodating his girth — she was hot and wet and ready for anything, as long as it was him.

She felt full in a way she had never felt before — not just from the huge cock that was plunging in and out of her but her heart and soul felt full. She was his to do with whatever he wanted and she realized that she needed to let him know that.

“Fuck me, Sir! Give me that beautiful cock! Use me however you want. I’m yours — my pussy, my ass, my mouth, my heart, my soul. I belong to you,” she shouted, realizing that every word was true. He grinned down at her as he started to cum again, spurting deep inside her and triggering another huge orgasm for her.

She held him there, relishing the weight of him on top of her, the solidity of him, the rightness of giving herself to him, in spite of knowing nothing about him, nothing else could matter — she knew all she needed to know. He was her Master.

Sir:

I rolled off of Janelle after a couple of minutes. It had been the best sex I’d ever had though I felt a little guilty about what I’d done to her. But it was all a part of the plan that was still forming in my mind — one that I hoped would eventually leave her as a strong, independent, even dominant woman.

I kissed her tenderly and pushed her into a light sleep, hoping she would continue to heal. I had some errands to run and drove north into Franklin, Tennessee — a high-end suburb of Nashville with some pretty fancy boutiques.

I picked up a number of outfits for Janelle to better fit the end result I was going for. Then I got us some takeout from a local Mediterranean place and headed back to her house as the shadows were getting longer.

Janelle was awake and drinking a glass of wine, sitting on the sofa as if waiting for my return. I poured myself one as well and sat down next to her. “So, Janelle, we should talk. Tell me about the school administrators. And tell me about Jenny.”

She seemed reluctant at the beginning but she warmed to the task as her anger and frustration came out. Principal Heywood had been in charge for about four years now after replacing the woman that had hired Janelle. She was sure there was some kind of pressure or politics involved in his appointment. He had been a disaster, with plummeting morale across the staff and a student population that had effectively taken over the school.

Janelle was sure that he was fucking some of the teachers, the ones that seemed to get the best classes and assignments. And she had heard ugly rumors that he had fucked some of the seniors, possibly against their will. She had talked to the school board about him a couple of times, but it never went anywhere and seemed more likely to have harmed her own career.

And then there was Jenny. She was the school’s resident Mean Girl. Her family was both rich and well-connected, so little Jenny could do whatever she wanted to without fear of punishment. And she was smart, which actually made it worse. She had singled out Janelle for abuse and it had become clear that there was nothing that anyone was going to do about it.

She didn’t mention her friend Alicia but I could hear those thoughts. She was a fellow teacher and Janelle had fallen madly in love with her, but was too worried about how Alicia might react if she told her how she felt.

No surprise that the discussion was bringing Janelle down again, so I changed the subject. “So, Janelle, after dinner we’re going closet-shopping. We’re going to toss anything that doesn’t fit or doesn’t flatter and replace it with things that fit your new personality.”

She looked dubious but we both grabbed a handful each of the bags I’d come back with and headed for the bedroom. We started with her closet, and I insisted on throwing almost everything in there into the reject pile. It was all way too dowdy and not at all in keeping with where I wanted to get her.

She looked uncertainly at the pile of clothes on the floor. “So what the hell am I going to wear to school now?” she asked. I nodded to the bags littering the bed.

I’d picked out a number of outfits that she could (just barely) get away with at school. Every one was a power move in its own way: sexy without being too sexy, showing off her restored assets without being so obvious that people would talk. She looked skeptical but I had another day to work on her before school on Monday.

Janelle:

Sunday morning started differently for Janelle than any day had in years — she didn’t wake up alone. She felt Sir behind her and rolled over to see that he was awake, just looking at her with a little smile on his handsome face. “Good morning, sunshine,” he said and she smiled, suddenly feeling like she was glowing.

She rolled over and kissed him, almost automatically, not really thinking about the fact that it was the first self-motivated thing she had done since Friday. They had talked long into the night, mostly about herself, things that she hadn’t thought about in years, even decades. Then they had gone to bed together and he had held her until she fell asleep, into the best sleep she’d had in a long while.

The kiss deepened and she felt the stirring of his gorgeous cock against her side. She was sure she was sore from the previous day but she didn’t care. She wanted more of him. She hadn’t forgotten about Friday night, but it was like it had happened to someone else. The “master” stuff had worn off somewhat as well — he was here with her because she wanted him to be, not because he required it. Suddenly she felt like she deserved something more.

Sir:

Janelle and I spent Sunday alternating between making love and planning. It was a damn long way from Friday night. She was finding a self-confidence that wasn’t coming from any power that I had as much as just having someone to listen to her and pay attention to her.

She dressed for school in a way that she wouldn’t have dreamed of previously. Well-tailored black skirt that was just exactly barely long enough to get away with, short black boots with three-inch heels and a silky crimson blouse with a couple of buttons at the top open — nothing that she could get in trouble for but a much more confident, commanding look than she would have previously dared.

I debated on whether to go with her to school but I sensed that she wasn’t really convinced of her own power yet. So I sat in the back of her classroom all day, invisible to all. Her first three periods were not too bad and she handled the disruptive students with much more confidence and command than anyone was used to.

It was fourth period that was her chief concern. US History, mostly seniors with a smattering of juniors, led by Jenny, her archnemesis. There were a few empty seats when the bell rang and she started class and I felt a bit of relief from her that maybe Jenny was out that day.

Then the classroom door opened ten minutes into class and I didn’t need to be told that it was her. She was stunning. five foot, six inches, dirty blonde hair, dark porn star eyes, plump lips, wearing a mid-riff-baring crop top and tight, artfully ripped blue jeans. She had the face of a fallen angel. She sauntered across the front of the room and slid into her desk about three rows back.

Janelle stopped her lecture and walked over to her, rather than ignoring the slight like she would have usually done. “You’re late,” she said, her eyes boring into her student’s.

“Lost track of time. Sorry, Janelle,” Jenny said with a sneer in her voice.

Janelle reached down and grabbed Jenny’s upper arm, hard. “After class, Jenny.” The rest of the class reacted with shocked gasps. Jenny looked up like she was going to strike her teacher, but then she must have seen something in Janelle’s eyes. They stared at each other for a full minute before Jenny backed down.

“Yes, Ms. Parker,” she said, lowering her eyes and eliciting a new round of gasps around the classroom.

Everyone in the class suddenly seemed intent on listening to everything Janelle Parker had to say. The rest of the class went by without incident and there were even some reasonably astute questions about US policy in the Pacific after the Spanish-American War.

As soon as the bell rang, the rest of the class filed out, leaving Jenny last to get up from her desk. She stopped in front of Janelle’s desk, head still bowed. “You wanted to see me, ma’am? I’m really sorry I was late. It won’t happen again.” Whatever she had seen in her teacher’s eyes had completely changed her attitude.

Janelle walked around her desk to stand beside Jenny. With her heels, she had about 5 inches on the younger woman and used every one of them. “Yes, Jenny, I did want to see you. You’ve made my life a living hell this year and now you’re going to make up for it.”

I walked over to the classroom door, unseen. Janelle had a free period and we had planned how we were going to use it. I locked the door and used a little demon power to make the glass in the door opaque, so that Janelle would be unseen and uninterrupted.

“You think your daddy is powerful enough that you can get away with anything you want. I’m here to tell you that that shit ends now. Get on your knees, bitch!” Janelle commanded.

Jenny started to protest but another look into Janelle’s eyes and she dropped like she’d been shot. She waited on her knees, head still down, unsure of what was coming. It was certainly not prepared for the next words from her teacher.

“Service me, slut!” Janelle said in a tone that left no doubt in Jenny’s mind that refusal was not an option. Her teacher flipped her skirt up and pulled her thong aside, leaving Jenny to stare into her smooth snatch, with just a small, mysterious tattoo above her cleft. Janelle’s hands grabbed the back of her head and pulled Jenny’s face into her crotch.

It looked like Jenny had at least a little experience with girls, although I would have bet money it was in taking pleasure rather than giving it. Regardless, Janelle gave a little sigh as Jenny’s tongue started working on her labia. Watching my new protégé dominate her former tormenter filled me with pride — and it was erotic as hell.

The longer it lasted, the more Jenny seemed to be doing it willingly instead of under duress. Janelle leaned back onto her desk and spread her legs, giving Jenny more room and she took advantage of it, licking her teacher up and down before burying her tongue in her pussy and, best I could tell, massaging her clit with her perky little nose.

We were feeding well on both Janelle’s power trip and her approaching ecstasy. I felt the satisfaction from the demon at this method of sustenance — it didn’t care as long as it got fed. We got a jolt of energy as Janelle climaxed, trapping Jenny’s face between her thighs until she couldn’t breathe.

She finally let the girl go, and Jenny fell back on the floor, her face and hair a mess. Janelle stood up and squatted over Jenny and did something I never would have imagined — she let go a stream of piss that covered Jenny’s face and hair. The younger woman did nothing to try to move or cover up. It was like she thought she deserved it.

When she was finished, Janelle reached down a hand and pulled Jenny up to her feet. “Now, little one, go find Patrick, the maintenance guy, and bring him here. Tell him you’ll give him a blow job if he gets here in five minutes. With a mop. And don’t clean yourself up.”

Jenny looked at her with an expression I really couldn’t understand, gave her teacher a little nod, then left. I locked the door behind her and raised an eyebrow at Janelle. “She just needs some discipline. I’m happy to give that to her,” Janelle said. I kept my mouth shut.

Slightly less than five minutes later, there was a knock on the door. I was still shielding myself, so Janelle unlocked it and Patrick and Jenny walked in. Patrick was an older guy, a little greasy looking, probably nearing retirement except I would bet he was never going to be able to afford to retire. And Jenny was still a mess.

“Patrick, good, thanks for coming so quickly. I have a favor to ask of you. I know about the cameras you’ve been putting in the girls’ bathrooms,” she said, with no emotion. He started to protest but she held up a hand to stop him.

“I don’t give a fuck about that. But I’ll use it to get you fired unless you do what I say. I want three of those cameras in Mr. Heywood’s office tonight, sending the feed to my laptop here. And you don’t say a fucking word to anyone. Promise me that and Jenny here will give you a nice reward,” she said.

Patrick looked scared, confused and turned on, all at once. He finally mustered a “yes ma’am” before looking over at Jenny. She sighed and knelt in front of him, unzipping his pants. She fished out his unimpressive dick and proceeded to give him what I was sure was the best, and probably one of the only, blowjobs of his life.

It only took about three minutes before he grunted and nutted on Jenny’s face, which she took without comment. Patrick zipped up his faded work pants and nodded to Janelle. “They’ll be working by six o’clock tonight, ma’am,” he said, and I swear he tugged his forelock at her like a fucking Dark Ages serf. Janelle reminded him to mop up the mess on the floor, then he went out to do her bidding.

I dropped my veil and leaned on the desk next to Janelle. “So far, so good,” I said. “How long do you think it will take before we get something on Heywood?”

Janelle snorted. “That pervert? We’ll have something tomorrow. I’m going to go find Alicia. Then I’m doing my last class and heading for home. What about you?”

I was pleased and frankly astounded at kick-ass, take-charge Janelle. What a difference a weekend could make. Well, and a demon, a lot of fucking, even more talking, a new wardrobe — I guess it was rather a lot, after all.

I started to answer when we both heard a plaintive voice from the back of the classroom. “Is that it? Don’t I at least get fucked out of this?” Jenny was still there, had heard everything, had seen me appear out of nowhere, but didn’t really seem to have any questions. I knew she wasn’t stupid — I thought maybe she was in some kind of shock.

I looked at her, hair and makeup a mess after Janelle’s, and then Patrick’s, treatment of her. “Jenny, you’re coming with me, sweetheart. I want you to meet someone. Janelle, you talk to Alicia and I’ll see you later tonight. Jenny, why don’t you come with me.” I wasn’t sure why this was the path I chose, but it felt right.

Janelle:

There were a few minutes left of her free period, so Janelle headed over to the teachers’ lounge, hoping to find her friend. Sure enough, there were a couple of older teachers eating their lunch at the table and Alicia was sitting in a ratty old armchair, reading a steamy romance novel between bites of a sandwich.

She looked up as Janelle approached. “Damn, girl! You look different! It suits you!” she said. Janelle didn’t say anything — she just leaned over and placed a hand behind Alicia’s head and pulled her into a quick but unmistakably serious kiss.

“Come over to my place after school today,” Janelle said, adding a “please” as an afterthought. Alicia stared as her friend turned and strode out of the lounge, without turning back around.

At 5:00pm, Alicia found herself walking up to the door of Janelle’s small bungalow, uncertain of what was going on. She and Janelle had been friends for years and she had been sad to see the toll that the past few had taken on her friend. It was good to see her recent transformation, but she was suddenly uncertain about what might happen next.

Sir:

Jenny followed me out to the car I was still renting and we headed off to the motel I’d booked before finding Janelle. It was an old motor-court type of place but it was clean and remote and I had a unit on the end. I unlocked the door and ushered Jenny inside.

“Baby girl, you smell foul. Why don’t you go take a shower?” I suggested, in a tone of voice that made It clear that it wasn’t a mere suggestion.

Twenty minutes later, Jenny emerged from the bathroom, one towel wrapped around her perfect C-cup breasts, the other being used to dry her mane of blonde hair. She looked around for me, but I was veiled, for effect.

She sat on the bed, looking around for me, wondering if she’d been abandoned in some scruffy motel. I rose from the rickety chair I’d been sitting on in the corner, and let the demon show himself. Jenny’s reaction was not at all what I expected.

We stepped towards the bed, looming over her. She looked up with an expression of shock that quickly shifted to a beatific smile. She dropped both her towels on the floor and prostrated herself on the bed, her beautiful, perfect ass in the air, face on the ratty bedspread, arms outstretched in front of her, reaching for us. It was the most erotic, nasty, incredible thing I’d ever seen.

I just wanted to stare at the gorgeous ass forever and my demon was just confused. It had only experienced terror before we met Janelle. The need and want from her had been unique. But this was different again. The emotion rolling off of Jenny was Devotion. Love. Happy Servitude.

We stepped closer to the bed and Jenny looked up with a smile that I thought would break my heart. Whatever it was that she had needed all her life was present in us. She sat back on her heels, hands clasped together in front of her perfect chest. “How may I serve you, Master?” she asked.

We growled and took the final step to the side of the bed. Our cock was as hard as rebar but I noted that it was not the foot-and-a-half long pussy-killer that it sometimes was. It was pretty much the still-crazy twelve inches of my own, which didn’t seem to faze Jenny in the least.

She rolled forward onto all fours, staring lustily at the huge cock in front of her. She raised it with one hand, leaning forward to lick our golf ball-sized nuts, managing to take one, then the other, into her mouth. She slowly jerked off our massive member while she moved from our balls to licking the underside of our cock.

She worked her way to the top before managing to slide the peach-sized head into her mouth. She bobbed her head up and down, managing to take the first five inches in before sliding back out. She was good, clearly experienced, and eager to please us.

The demon part of us was not used to experiencing pleasure and it didn’t take long until our orgasm started rising all the way from our toes. It was so intense that we lurched forward, burying another three inches of cock in Jenny’s pretty neck as we started to spurt ridiculous amounts of demon-tainted jizz down her distended throat.

She looked up at us with love and lust and need as we filled her with cum. She took it all, using her forefinger to catch what little escaped from the corner of her mouth, scooping it back in to add to the rest. She pulled back, still looking into our eyes, and simply said, “Thank you, my lord.”