Feature Writer: LackingPlotArmor
Feature Title: HE’S NOT MY DEMON BUTLER
Published: 29.03.2024
Story Codes: Demonic
Synopsis: An evil grandma, a hot butler, and a promiscuous “virgin.”
Author’s Notes: A romantic stroll through a fairy tale garden. A gentle hand upon my waist. The teasing voice draws my gaze from moonlit roses to his lips. I want to kiss him. I want to do more than kiss. I want to know how I got to this point.
He’s Not My Demon Butler
I came back home for the summer at the end of my sophomore year. I had to save costs somehow, and helping out at my mother’s bakery and sleeping on my old twin mattress was better than trying to pay rent on my own for three months.
Or staying in the big city alone without a roommate. Not safe.
I have no idea how my weeb dad could afford to go all the way to Japan for school, but that’s where he met my mother. He always said he fell in love with a black-haired nadeshiko, but she’d laugh and admit she had to dye her chestnut hair black just to fit in. I’m still not sure what she sees in him, but it was enough to convince her to move all the way to the States and leave her (probably extremely disappointed) family behind. I’ve never been invited to meet them.
Actually, I barely know my father’s family either. There’s the odd uncle or something that shows up every few years in a fancy red convertible with a date half his age, but he was never someone I felt comfortable talking with as a young girl.
That’s why it was so incredibly weird when my grandmother, who I had assumed was dead or lost at sea, called my father one evening while I was helping him clear the dishes.
He was hesitant to accept her offer to fly all the way to motherfucking Switzerland. I thought he was born over here, but nope, he’s from the land of exquisite timepieces and sus banking laws.
Of course my parents had a fight about it. Though politely dismissing the other’s argument while voicing your concern and reminding them of what’s “best for the family” probably doesn’t pass as a domestic dispute in most parts of the country.
Eventually, I found myself wedged between them on a couple coach flights to Geneva via Paris, getting the most rushed proper education short of handing me a tablet queued up with some historical trash romance show. I had thought I was pretty good at being polite and charming and well, not a messy eater. But I could tell that my mother was just as worried about her own good first impression with her mother-in-law.
As soon as we landed in Geneva, she dragged me straight to the airport bathroom to freshen up. I suppose the drool marks from my second long nap were not giving her confidence in me. But after changing my pantihose and a short frisking in which she adjusted not only my skirt but my freaking bra too, she deemed us ready.
Dad had already found our luggage and a chauffeur by then. Only the telltale tapping of his finger while he crossed his arms told me that yes, he was really nervous. I was nervous too. Motherfucking chauffeurs and town cars? Didn’t Switzerland have taxis? Yes. Yes they do. Grandmother’s town car was waiting in the taxi lane.
And this brings us to the most Cinderella experience I’ll ever have in my lifetime. I’ll never be able to tell anyone at college about it, because they will immediately call bullshit.
….
I am already lost as I try to figure out where we are heading with an out-of-service smartphone and a tourism board-approved map of Geneva. The glittering of sunlight on the picture-perfect ungodly blue lake draws me back to our surroundings as the town car passes by hidden driveways and high, ivy-covered walls broken up by majestic trees. Mom reminds me to breathe, and we finally turn up to a gated driveway.
I can’t even see the house yet as the gates open onto a winding cobblestone path with a parklike view of the lake. I’ll figure out which one it is later. Turns out I can’t read Swiss, or maybe I grabbed the wrong map because I think we crossed the Rhone, and I could swear that it was in France. They don’t offer European geography much in American schools.
Our town car passes by what looks suspiciously like a hedge maze, and we finally arrive at a castle. Well, it might be too short for a castle, but it’s definitely the fanciest hotel I’ve ever been to. Or maybe that’s a mansion. Because there’s a row of people dressed in pristine black uniforms ready to greet us.
Mom is giving Dad a wide-eyed look that tells me maybe he hadn’t been honest enough about his past even to her, but he doesn’t notice it. Not with how he’s looking almost pale, and considering he’s one of the whitest guys I know, that’s a feat. I hesitate to get out of the car, even after someone opens the door for me.
It’s so overwhelming that I almost don’t even look at the gentleman reaching for my hand. Almost. The moment he does take it to help me out of the car, there’s this rush of warmth throughout my body that I was not expecting. My blue-eyed gaze travels up the length of his torso, clad in a tuxedo with that waistcoat thing and a fancy little pocket watch, and up to his angelic face framed in blond locks, paler than my father’s.
Before I can do something stupid, like moan out a “hi,” he smirks, eying me sideways with his own dark blue gaze before addressing my family. “Welcome to the Reichling Estates. I am Madame Reichling’s butler, Cassius. If you should need anything during your stay, please do not hesitate to ask either me or a member of the staff. Madame has scheduled the evening meal for 6 pm, so there is time for you to settle in your rooms and prepare. Unfortunately, she will be busy until then. Master Noah, if you would like, I can arrange a tour of the grounds for your lovely wife and daughter.”
I have to stare at said grounds, or at least the section of cobblestone under my feet, to hide the blush that’s taken over my face.
With a flourish of Cassius’s hand, the servants, who all look like they just stepped off the runway of Paris fashion week despite the uniforms, descend on our bags and lead us inside.
“Miss Asami, may I show you to your room?” The butler has yet to release my hand. Considering how weak my knees are feeling and the unsteady footing of heels on cobbles, it might just be a very thoughtful courtesy. I try my hardest to walk gracefully. He still has to discreetly correct my tilt, but his smile never wavers.
Damn, Grandma! Where did you find such attractive people and how did you blackmail them into being servants?
Cassius guides us up a marble staircase, real marble, not those small tiles. I’m fairly certain most of the first floor is covered in these impossibly huge slabs. I’m thankful for his steady hand and begin to wonder if I may need to dig out my flats just to avoid embarrassing myself further.
Luckily the second floor has a velvety carpet, and I don’t have too much trouble as he leads us down the long corridor towards what I assume is a guest room.
“Miss Asami, this will be your suite for the duration of your stay. Master Noah and Lady Asuka shall be just down the hall.” Cassius reassures me as he opens the doors to an opulent room with emerald damask drapes drawn to showcase the view of the lake. The room includes a fireplace and sitting area, and the lack of a bed tells me this is what those trashy period dramas meant when they say “sitting room.” Or maybe it’s a parlor?
My parents follow us as the butler gives me a brief tour of the attached bedroom and a marble bathroom that looks like it belongs in a five star resort. Grandma must make extra cash renting this place out as a B&B.
Dad waits until we’re back in the sitting room to release Mom from her endless repetition of “Oh how lovely” and politely dismiss Cassius. “Thank you, Mr. Cassius, but I think my wife and I should be able to find my old rooms from here.”
“Of course, Master Noah.” The young butler bows as if expecting this. “Your rooms have been prepared for your visit, though most of your personal effects have been… removed.” He somehow manages to keep a casually cheerful expression on despite intimating that he knows all about the Reichling family drama.
I need a monocle if I’m ever expected to repeat all these fancy words I’m thinking aloud.
My dad sighs, “I suppose your father would have seen to that after I was disowned.”
“My father, a yes, the previous butler.” He smiles away the momentary confusion. “If you require anything, please dial zero from any of the room phones.” He bows, playful eyes catching me staring, before leaving the room.
“How the previous Mister Cassius managed to date while under Mother’s, excuse me, Madame’s thumb, I’ll never know.” My father shook his head before taking a seat on the leather sofa, patting it to suggest I also sit down despite my desire to go explore.
“Ami, you know that we have always tried to be open with you, and we told you about how our families did not approve of our marriage so we were both disowned. Well, there’s a reason. I was already trying to run far away from this place. It may appear lovely, as your mother says, but to me it was always a gilded cage, more of a prison than a home. There is no warmth in my own mother, and I suspect she has ulterior motives for inviting us back.”
“Now dear,” Mom, always the peacekeeper, “I wish my parents would invite us home someday. I’m sure she is getting a little lonely in her old age. Perhaps she just wants to see you one more time…” She leaves that statement hanging open. My father isn’t a young man anymore, so I can only guess at Grandmother’s age.
“Well,” I finally find the courage to ask questions now that the handsome butler isn’t distracting me. And my mom insists ikemen are a myth outside of host clubs. “Do I have any cousins?”
Father shakes his head. “I don’t know, if you did they would have to be younger than you. I do have an older sister, so maybe. And you remember my uncle Alfred and uncle Liam, my Mother’s brothers. They each had a couple children, but I think they live elsewhere.”
“Okay.” It’s a start. “Can I at least go take a look around before dinner?”
“If you remember to keep your door locked at all times. I don’t trust my Mother, or her servants.” He gets up to find a key hidden under a vase on the mantel. I wonder if all of the rooms have their own fireplace.
Mom adds, getting up so that I can have some space after our long journey. “And remember to change first. I packed that long red dress you loved wearing out to the opera with me, you can probably wear your comfy shoes underneath without anyone noticing.” She knows me too well.
With that, they leave me to make myself a bit more presentable for the evening.
….
Despite following all the corridors, I don’t see a single soul as I explore the estate, and I soon find myself outside, scarlet ball gown and all. This Swiss lake nestled among the craggy Alps was truly something. I’m not sure I want to know the property value of this view of the setting sun upon its crystalline waters. If I had been Dad, I don’t know if I could give all this up.
I’m lost in contemplation when a smooth, somewhat amused voice interrupts my thoughts.
“Madame is quite lucky to have a lakeside estate away from the townhomes and sports fields and public beaches. There’s even sections of the lake bordered by the damned railway.”
I probably would have jumped, but there’s something about Cassius that has me excited for all the wrong reasons.
“Sorry, I was just thinking of how lovely the view was. I’d take the screaming and train noise if it meant having a small place with a view like this.” I hide my blush by pulling on my never-gonna-curl straight locks until two thick strands cross in front of my face. I can swear he just called me cute.
“If you’d like, I can arrange for the yacht and give you a tour of Lac Léman’s castles and sights.”
I wish I didn’t feel the need to turn down his offer. “No, that’s alright. Though it would be kinda cool to see a real castle. Besides, you probably have other things you’d rather be doing than babysitting your boss’s grandchild.”
“I can think of a few things I’d rather be doing that don’t involve Madame or Miss Vittoria.” And my hair will no longer hide this blush. I haven’t seen that kind of hungry look directed my way since I turned down the overly bulked guy loitering in front of the frat houses last Fall. If this really was a historical drama, I’d be fanning myself something fierce. Oh fuck.
It’s like he can read my mind, and he gives me a telling smirk that sends a rush of excitement straight to my… well there’s no nice way of putting it, is there… straight to my now very wet pussy. I’m glad I didn’t opt for the barely-there thong under this dress.
He’s the perfect gentleman, and aware of my sexual flustering or not, he demurely offers his arm to me. “I believe I was sent to escort you to the evening meal. It’s almost 6 pm.”
I’m almost more embarrassed that this butler is everything my parents tried to get me to pretend to be for the trip. But I muster up the fortitude to lay my hand on his arm and accept his invitation to dinner, even if my response came with a slight stutter.
Dinner turned out to be a much more rambunctious affair than I expected. I saw more than a few fancy cars now lined up in the driveway, and we joined a stream of guests heading to a reception hall on the left side of the grand building. Feeling a bit underdressed and overwhelmed in the crowd of what had to be models and aristocrats or bourgeoisie, I am about to go join my parents when Cassius pulls me aside.
“Somehow I knew you’d be the most beautiful mademoiselle here tonight. If you can arrange an opening, I would appreciate it if you saved a dance for me.” I almost melt at how genuine his voice sounds.
“O-of course…” I stare at his back until he disappears in the crowd.
“Ami, you didn’t get lost, did you?” My mother frets for a moment before allowing Dad to introduce me to his cousin. Or was it nephew? I start losing track as we’re forced to greet person after person in a sea of strangers.
It’s not until we’re whisked away by a pair of maids that look like they walked out of Vogue that I realize that was only part one of dinner. And I didn’t get to try any of the finger foods being passed around.
Shame really, because the moment I’m settling in my seat, my tummy sings the most appalling cry of hunger, and I’m forced to apologize with a half-thought out excuse of “long flight”. The woman at the head of the table sniffs and turns towards my father, ignoring both my growling stomach and my apology.
It takes me a moment to realize that this woman is my grandmother, flanked by one of my great-uncles and what must be my Aunt Vittoria. Great. I wouldn’t have ever recognized her, but there’s only nine of us at the dinner table. She looks more like Princess Di than I expected, with blond hair pulled up in an elegant twist and only a few wrinkles around mouth and eyes. Something tells me she’s had work done.
Aunt Vittoria by contrast has auburn hair left in loose curls and looks like she could cut someone with her eyeliner. If she’s had any rejuvenation treatments, she’s been more subtle about it. And where Grandmother Reichling is in a more modest black gown accented by shining sapphire jewelry, the plunging neckline and silhouette of Vittoria’s blood red gown leave little to the imagination.
It’s hard to tell, but my aunt might be side-eyeing me for wearing a more vibrant shade of red. Not that I look even half as glamorous as her!
I can’t seem to focus on most of the conversation as I try to maintain decorum while not spilling food on myself. The eating portion of dinner proves painfully slow. It doesn’t help that one of my great cousins tries to ask me questions about my university and studies. I answer as best I can, but the questions stop as soon as the soup is cleared for the next course and we both realize that Grandmother does not seem amused.
Better to be seen and not heard, I decide as I pick at the next dish, some poor little bird soaked in some weird clear gravy. Next is a dish of spiced pears, then a seafood pasta, and finally some sort of gamey roasted meat. I get to at least have a few bites of each before the staff clears the plates. I hope someone gets to enjoy all these leftovers.
The final course is just as excessive as the rest. And on fire. I can only assume this is the fabled cherries jubilee that no one actually serves anymore, except in European apparently. It’s not half bad, but even without Mom’s warning look, I can tell it is still super boozy, and I only have a couple bites. She’s already allowed me to have a glass of white wine to fit in with the family, and I don’t want to risk being the underage drunk at a fancy party.
I bite back a sigh of relief when Grandmother stands and bids us all return to the party in the reception hall. The dancing has already started, and the music is now louder than the hum of conversation. When the first older gentleman approaches me and bows, I have to ignore my aunt’s glare and look to my parents for guidance. Dad nods, just slightly. He did say if there was a formal event, I could find myself served up like an offering and to try to be graciously accepting if someone asked for a dance or two.
Now I see why he warned me. I’m not exactly, no scratch that, I have never been a ballroom dancer. Best I got was that awkward slow dancing where you just kinda rock from side to side and shuffle while trying not to fall asleep on your date’s shoulder. Dad tried to show me the basics for waltzing, but I can’t keep up with the exaggerated movements the line of partners is throwing at me.
I step on more than a few feet, and awkwardly apologize to my partner and everyone I bump into. It’s not until the song changes for the sixth time that I realize maybe it was my partners that were failing me.
The next gentleman to approach me is Cassius, and as much as I can feel my body pull to him, I hesitate to accept his outstretched hand. “Sorry, but you might have seen by now that I’m not a very good dancer.” His long fingers are already warm around mine.
“I think it would help if the lead was sober.” He says with a smile, drawing me to his chest anyways. “Though if your feet are getting tired, I have the evening free. We could go find someplace cool to relax at.”
“Maybe after a dance?” I accept his offer quickly. “Fresh air might be nice.”
Now that I’m close enough to smell his cologne, I realize just how warm it’s gotten despite the size of the room. Not that that matters, because now I can feel the strength of his body through his suit. My hand squeezes his bicep as his own hand falls low on my waist and firmly guides me as we begin to dance.
I observe him, somehow less worried about stepping on toes or being pushed into someone else’s path. Cassius is still in his extremely formal butler uniform, but now there’s a medallion hanging to one side of his waist from a thick black sash, the meaning of which eludes me, but damn does he seem like Prince Charming right now. And it’s doing things to me. I’m certain the flush on my skin isn’t from the heat generated by all the dancers. My nice panties aren’t going to survive the night at this rate, and being this close to him is making me more breathy than winded.
He’s an incredible dancer, and somehow I make it through the whole song without incident and even manage not to stumble when he twirls me. Before I know it, he’s got me out on a shrub-infested patio where the night air does its best to try and cool off my hormones. It doesn’t do a very good job of it. Despite the evening of dancing, I’m not in the mood to just sit, so Cassius escorts me down a hidden flight of steps and into the moonlit gardens for a tour.
“It’s a shame this will probably be my only chance to experience any of this.” I find myself sharing with the enchanting butler as he pulls a fragrant night-blooming flower down for me to sniff.
“Oh? Are you worried Madame won’t invite you back?”
Spoiler alert: I would never be invited back to Switzerland.
“Well,” I hesitate before sighing, “I don’t think she has a good impression of me, and Aunt Vittoria just spent the entire evening glaring at me. And Dad wasn’t exactly in a rush to unpack his bags.”
“Miss Vittoria dislikes anyone who receives more attention than her at an event.” Cassius admits with amusement. “She spends most of her time jealous of just about anyone. Madame included. Trust me, it’s in no way your fault that you were the most interesting one there this evening.”
“Fresh meat. That’s what I felt like.”
He hides a chuckle behind his fist. “An apt turn of phrase, though you’re certainly more pleasant to look at than that.”
I feel a little cheeky as I retort, “Are you calling me pretty, good sir?”
“Pretty, no…” He leans in, brushing my hair past my ear and tucking something into it. He’s less than an inch from my face, and I can’t help but stare at his lips. “I don’t think “beautiful” does you justice either. Perhaps somptueux.”
I don’t need to know French, I assume, to take the compliment with a blush.
Cassius smirks knowingly before backing away to give me room. “Ah, I heard that you are in University? What do you like to study?” He changes the subject, allowing me a chance to breathe.
“I like English and literature well enough, but my real focus is biology. I just officially declared it my major this Spring.” My hand drifts up, as I absent-mindedly reach for the strange weight the butler left in my hair. I can feel soft petals, but I can only guess what kind of flower it is by the multitude of roses surrounding us.
“Biology, that’s a big field. Do you have to select a topic to specialize in?” How it is that this handsome guy can be interested in my education when I’m stuck on how romantic this evening has turned, I don’t understand.
“I’ll have to pick something soon as Fall quarter starts up. Junior year and all.” I stop myself before I can really start rambling.
“It seems a shame for a mademoiselle like you to be stuck in a lab somewhere for your whole university experience.”
“I get out plenty. I’m not a big partier or spring breaker or anything, but I have dated and stuff.”
“Oh?” He waits, and I’m not certain I know what he’s hoping for.
“I mean….” I huff, finally coming to a decision about this evening. Looking up at him from under my eyelashes, I decide to be a little brunt and take my chances. “You know, I really hope I haven’t been misreading your signals. Let me know if you’re just trying to be polite or something, but how interested are you in me?” This might be the first time I’ve taken the initiative like this.
“Very…” Cassius’s response is breathy, and this time when he leans in, I feel the warmth of his lips on my own. When I feel his hand on my lower back, I moan and press into the kiss. Before I know it, he’s cupping my ass and gently probing the inside of my mouth. I have to push him back just a little to get some air.
My fingers are wrapped in his jacket to keep him from misunderstanding my reaction. “I don’t normally offer it on a first date, but seeing as I’ll probably never see you again after I leave Switzerland, would you like to…” I fumble, half afraid of saying something offensive or using slang that the butler might not be familiar with. “Would you like to have sex? With me?” The last words fall out of my mouth. “I mean, if you’ve been checked since your last partner, because I’ve been checked and if you need to see the test results it’s on my…”
His index finger halts my rambling. “I’ve been checked too. And I will trust you on the results.” His smirk makes my heart thud. “Though I must say that I’m a little surprised that you aren’t a virgin. Many people still put a lot of value in that sort of thing.”
I stare down at the moss between the bricks at our feet. “Well, I… I wasn’t exactly planning to, but my first boyfriend kind of pressured me my senior year of high school. And my mom said it was alright if I decided to have sex so long as it was on equal terms and I saw a doctor regularly. Apparently she’d been in a similar situation, but there was a lot of stigma and she had some unfortunate… issues… so she wanted me to have the freedom and resources she didn’t. Like birth control. She helped me regain confidence in myself and I dumped him the next day.”
If he reacted while I bared that bit of history to him, I didn’t see it. But when I look up, he’s giving me that soft smile and pulling me in for another, shorter kiss.
“As much as I’d prefer not getting dumped by you tomorrow, I would rather not let you go tonight.” Cassius teases, cupping my face to run his thumb across my mouth. “I am actually relieved that you have experienced carnal knowledge.”
His archaic choice of words distracts me until I realize we’re surrounded by walls of dark green shrubs. Part of me recognizes it as the hedge maze I saw on my walk earlier.
“I would offer to take you back to my room, or yours, but I fear it might be awkward with the events still going on.” The butler coaxes with a playful smile to ease my tensions. “We will not be disturbed in here and there is a rather lovely spot up ahead.”
Cassius leads me onward. I enjoy the feeling of his hand holding mine until the path opens up to a grand fountain illuminated with an underwater glow. The sound of the water will do a wonderful job of drowning out noise. There’s also a set of four curved benches surrounding the fountain, and he guides me towards one before sitting down on one himself.
I step towards him, and he’s tall enough that I don’t have to lean far to get another kiss from his soft lips. My body realizes I’ve just stepped into his reach and arches towards his touch. A moment later, Cassius has both hands on my hips, pulling me closer so his mouth can explore my neck and collar. If I hadn’t been wearing a dress, I probably would be grinding myself on his thigh by now.
“Let’s fix that, mon chaton.”
I can’t remember if I just complained about that out loud or if he read my mind. And I don’t care because his hands, firm and gentle all at once, slide up the sides of my dress to reach for the zipper under my arm and the clasp for the halter at my neck. Before I realize it, the fabric is sliding down to the stones at our feet and I’m standing in front of him mostly naked. No bra. No shapewear. Just a very thin, very wet pair of seamless nude undies.
His eyes reflect the moonlight and my milky pale skin. Both hands return to my waist to pull me even closer, but instead of riding his thigh, I’m straddling his lap. And he’s already hard. With a shudder, I wrap my arms around his neck and shoulders, while his hands slide down between my ass cheeks and panties, squeezing and teasing as I part my lips for his probing tongue. When he presses his girth against the wet area of my panties, his hands effectively forcing me to roll my hips to meet his, I moan and shudder.
Cassius doesn’t release me from the passionate kiss until I’m panting and my juices soil his trousers.
“S-sorry, I think… I just…” My words don’t want to come, but he kisses them away until all I can see is the pleased smirk on his face.
“If you apologize every time you climax for me, you’ll lose your voice.”
I giggle in response to a comment that would normally have my eyes rolling instead. The world has become a haze of moonlight and pleasure, and at this point I’m relying on him to guide me through it. At this point I’d get on my knees if it meant helping him feel half as good as I do now.
But Cassius still has other plans, and he pecks my cheek before turning me around to grind my butt on the solid length still waiting in his pants. He leans me back, almost far enough to run my fingers through the water as I stretch in his hold. I can feel his long, experienced fingers sliding into my underwear and stroking past my clit. His other hand begins to knead my left breast while he nuzzles the other.
I hold myself taught, breasts slowly bouncing with each breath until he captures my nipples between his teeth and fingers. It’s rough, a little painful even, but when he spreads my labia apart, fingertip just barely pressing on my hole while his thumb rocks over my clit, I white out from the sensation, a whine trapped in my throat.
“So beautiful… so incredibly beautiful… and tonight you’re all mine…”
I regain my senses to find I’m still in his lap. But he’s managed to lose the jacket and undo his shirt and slacks in that short amount of time. I don’t remember the candles surrounding us and the fountain. But maybe I’m just too distracted to notice the details that aren’t Cassius’s touch and warmth and kiss right now.
I don’t even mind when the fabric of my panties cuts into my hips as he roughly pulls until they break at the seams. He manages to reposition underneath me, before the torn fabric even lands on the ground. As if he’s displaying my nudity to the moon above, he holds me, spreading my slightly trimmed pussy with his lithe fingers. I watch, holding my breath as the tip of his thick cock approaches my dripping hole.
When it begins to press inside, I mewl and try to lower myself into his slow thrust.
“Breathe, mon chaton, breathe…” Cassius refuses to release me despite my attempt. But his words do reach through my fuzzy mind and I draw a breath as I watch most of his length slowly disappear inside my pussy. He bottoms out all too quickly, with at least two inches between my glistening folds and his crotch.
“Fuck…” I purr, watching my opening try to draw even more of him inside despite how stretched and tight it feels already. He’s either quiet or I just can’t hear his response over the sound of the gushing water and the strange whooshing sound in my ears.
Cassius begins to move underneath me, fingers gripping my hips as he pulls his dick out and I can see all of my juices rolling down the ridiculously large shaft. His next thrust is a little faster, and he pulls me down into it at the end until I cry out from the pressure he’s applying to my insides. There’s an excited queasiness building in my tummy, fueled by the desire to have all of him inside me.
One of his hands comes up to turn my face towards him, and for a moment all I see is the darkness of his pupils as he thrusts slow and hard. He licks his lips, and keeps up the pace until finally I can feel his pubic hairs and he lets me roll my hips.
I cum around his cock, entire body tightening in waves. My folds are crushed against his hips, but I don’t care. There’s sweat dripping down the side of his brow now, but I don’t care because his lips are upon me, breathing for me.
The moment I stop squirming, he pulls out and helps me to lay sideways on the bench, legs spread with one trailing on the ground and the other hooked over his shoulder. Oh, now he’s really gonna fuck me.
I grip the stone beneath me, and for a brief moment I can hear the striking of a bell. Weird thing to contemplate when getting fucked, but at least this Cinderella doesn’t need to be home anytime soon and one of the candles has been blown out.
His hand tightens around my thigh and his next thrust is so forceful my entire body rocks towards the end of the bench. My butler doesn’t stop. Now his entire length is filling my aching pussy over and over again, making my breasts bounce and my tummy tighten up almost to the point of nausea.
More. I want him to use me. To pleasure himself with my body.
More. Each thrust sends a wave of ecstasy through me as I keep climaxing.
“More!” He chuckles darkly at my cries, one hand leaving an impression on my leg where he braces for each deep thrust.
My voice echoes through the maze as he slams back inside me and holds us connected, lifting my hips off the bench completely as I clutch the other end. Everything throbs, and I can feel the stretching ache in my pussy as his cock begins to pump inside me as his hips rock. I gulp in a rough breath, ignoring the spray of the fountain on my teary-eyed face in favor of the warmth spreading from my womb.
Cassius’s movements finally still, though there is one last throb, like feeling his heart beating throughout my vagina. It’s not until he slowly pulls out and I feel the trickle of his semen begin to pour out onto my abused folds, followed by the warmth of his tongue, that I finish climaxing. I’m not even able to grab onto his head, or praise him, or tell him “that’s enough, I’m good”. He just holds my hips to his head, hands kneading my bruised thighs as he cleans up the mess spilling from my hole. Or maybe he’s trying to push it back in judging from the way his tongue darts back inside me.
Either way, I’m left trembling on the cold stone, oversensitive and just this side of blacking out. I’m vaguely aware of his warm arms surrounding me with his suit jacket.
Somehow he manages to sneak me back into my room despite the lock because the next morning I awaken in the guest bed, a bit sore but otherwise relaxed. Cassius has thoughtfully left out a glass of water with a mini packet of painkillers next to it. After taking those and getting dressed, I realize he must have rinsed me off too. My hair is a little damp and smells of floral shampoo.
As I’m messing with my damp locks to make myself presentable, my dad raps on the door urgently. Both my parents enter to inform me that Grandmother passed away last night in her sleep of an aneurysm, or so the coroner says. And we’re leaving.
….
I’ll have to admit, when the chaton admitted she wasn’t chaste, I almost dropped my entire facade. Thankfully she wasn’t looking closely, and the mild erotic glamour had the intended effect on dulling her senses.
Finally, the crone’s last bargaining chip was off the table.
I could tell, just slightly, that something was off about this beauty. Asami felt innocent, she looked innocent, she acted innocent, and she was exactly what I’d call pure. But humans and the old contracts still had such a focus on one itty bitty scrap of flesh that might bleed. Ridiculous really, but this loophole was just what I’ve been waiting for.
From the first kiss, I wanted more of her. It had been ages since I felt such desire for mortal flesh. Not even the crone’s latest daughter had kindled anything more than basic arousal. And I had gotten caught purposely trying to interfere with the contract by courting her prematurely, giving the crone a chance to create a new sacrifice. Why the Ancient Ones allowed blood sacrifices to cement pacts, I’ll never understand.
My eyes dart to the flower I’ve placed in her hair. This time I have a better plan in place, and with a little protective spell in place, the bud will help me if the crone figures it out.
Oddly, the lamb is still coherent with my glamours activated, though her awareness of the surroundings is beginning to slip. I kiss her again, enjoying the soft sweetness and a touch of iron as her tongue gets a little too close to my sharp teeth. It’s the perfect chance to push extra power into my spells while leading her deeper into the labyrinth.
A few encouraging words, a warm touch, and she follows me without question. As soon as I sit on the altar in front of the fountain, she proves just as eager as I am. Just for a moment I allow myself to fall into the fantasy I’ve created for the chaton’s sake, exploring her delicious flesh while removing her eye-catching gown.
Now we’re just a young pair of lovers, Asami grinding on top of my clothed erection while I match her fervor with my kiss.
I wish I could be inside her now, thrusting up into that soaking cunt that those thin panties aren’t able to hide. Her scent alone could entice anyone, mortal, demon, or angel. Reminds me of the days of old, when magical beasts roamed the world doing everything they pleased to mortal women.
It’s a shame we will be having company soon.
I twist her around in my lap, partly because this evening will not go well if I blow my fucking load this early. She relaxes so quickly in my grasp, and I whisper sweet things in her ear before my hands explore her body more thoroughly. I taste her bosom, fingers twisting and pulling on a rosy bud, drawing out cries as my other hand works its way up and down her slit. Fuck. I want to just fill that little pussy with anything I can. Fingers. One, two? I bet she’d scream when I got the whole hand inside. But I can’t. The crone needs to see a virgin get impaled on my magic wand tonight.
I settle for biting and pinching and rubbing all three of her buds at once, the tip of my middle finger just barely hovering over the entrance that’s begging me for more.
“So beautiful… so incredibly beautiful… and tonight you’re all mine…” If this works out, I’ll make her mine for longer, but for now that’s all the promise I can make as she releases all the tension she’s been holding in her body along with the rest of her resistance to my magic.
“Well, I told you my granddaughter would suit the ritual well. You seem to be enjoying the little half-breed.” The old crone enters the heart of the maze and gloats as she sees we have already started the ritual.
“What a lovely way to describe your beloved grandchild, you old bitch.” I mock as the other members of her coven take their positions, some standing guard around the fountain, others just assembling to witness the renewal of their Madame’s contract with me. “I’m surprised you kept your mouth shut around her mother and father. I trust you’ve taken care of them for the evening?”
“Our ritual won’t be interrupted, though once you start, I doubt they could interfere anyways. I trust our bond will be strengthened with this offering? If her sacrifice gives me back even an ounce of my youth, I’ll even adopt her back into the family.” She sniffs, craning her neck just to look down on me.
“So you can offer up her own children for the next renewal.” I snort, still idly playing with my prey’s body. I’m still angry about the old crone impregnating herself just to offer up the unborn fetus to the Rulekeeper. The only consolation is that this chaton won’t ever fall under the bitch’s control, mostly because one of them won’t survive the night. Never offer something that isn’t yours to give to a demon. That’s just evil. And we will turn on you eventually.
Vittoria speaks up from behind the crone, “I’m sure you’d love nothing more than to deflower the little vixen in front of her parents. Since you would copulate with just about anything.”
“Including you, if I recall. Now, she’s starting to wake up. Do your part.”
The coven begins to chant, repeating the ancient rites.
The crone stands before Asami and I, “Do you accept this offering of my own flesh and blood to renew our contract for another 20 summers?”
“I accept the offering of this girl.”
Boring legalities over with, the energies between the old crone and I begin their dance, and I focus all my thoughts on my offering. On the sweet musk of her arousal, the slickness of her juices on my hand, the inviting warmth of her as she begins to half-stir in my arms.
Her eyes may not be focused entirely, but she comes to her senses quickly. Thank the Fires Eternal that she doesn’t react to the crowd of witnesses. A quick check into her mind, as I quickly snap the unnecessary parts of my attire away, reveals that she only sees the mortals’ energy as flames before her. It’s almost poetic. I draw her into another kiss and rip the last of her sodden clothing from her body to showcase her nude perfection to the idiots before us.
“Finally…” I groan out as I shift into my truest form, ochre flesh, pointy ears, sharp claws and teeth, little bull horns, thin tufted tail, and all. Even if Asami can’t see it, she’s about to feel the full length and girth of a sex-obsessed demon’s phallus. As much as I’d like to just fucking slam inside her and rut until she’s overflowing from all orifices with my spunk… it’s a very shortsighted proposition. But damn if this chaton doesn’t make me want to lose all control.
Instead, I opt for slowly lowering her onto my engorged cockhead, letting everyone witness the way her sweet pussy wraps around it even if it is as big around as a man’s fist. Asami tries to wiggle free of my control to take the whole damned thing and I moan with the effort of resisting that idea. Maybe I’ve linked her mind to mine a little too strongly.
I hold her tight, reminding her to breathe just to keep from giving her exactly what she wants. A few seconds later, and I’ve pushed in about 22 centimeters worth of demon dick inside her very stretched pussy. She tightens, not wanting to let me go. And damn it’s cute when she curses. Gives me just enough time to release a spell to keep her insides from tearing and loosen her cervix up. If she wants my entire dick, I’m gonna give it to her.
With the second thrust, I pull her down firmly, reinforcing the spells I’ve cast inside her as I push my way deeper. Now her body is starting to accommodate more of my length.
And now, the entire coven has realized something is amiss.
Usually with sacrifices of this nature, the binding point is the concept of “first blood.” For a demon like me, that means her hymen should be leaving a nice big streak of red as my huge cock tears through everything, but seeing as there was not much of a remnant left to tear and I’m trying not to hurt her, well…
I turn Asami’s face towards me so she doesn’t have to witness her Grandmother’s attempt at murder.
“YOU! WHAT DID YOU DO? THIS LITTLE AMERICAN PUTAIN!” Predictably, the old crone is apoplectic with fear and rage.
I keep the chaton’s gaze on mine, still gently rocking my cock in and out of her. “You’ve finally messed up after nearly 300 years, hag. This innocent sacrifice turned out to be a real gift for me, and soon I’ll be free of you.”
The bitch summons up all her magical strength, flinging it in one attack at my new lover. For a moment, I actually worry. But the flower I put in Asami’s hair does its noble duty and decays to dust under the lethal spell. The first bell rings.
“Somebody, kill her now!” The second bell. “Vittoria, I command you!” The third. She’s becoming desperate, and tries to step forward to do the deed with her own hands. The fourth, and then the fifth. By the seventh she’s realized that I’ve put up a barrier, and she can’t get past it. The eighth. Not while I’m drawing upon Asami’s innate power as we make love, my mouth open to hers to create a cycle of breath and energy. Nine. The chaton is unaware of the danger she’s in and blindly chasing her own climax while riding my cock and I really want to just fuck her.
But the loyal faction begins to take action. Ten. Vittoria tries to intervene, fighting her own mother. There’s never been love there. Eleven. The second attack fails. They never held a candle to their Madame’s power anyways. As the last bell rings out midnight and Madame Reichling, the ancient witch of Geneva, falls to the paving stones, I can finally do as I please and set Asami down on the bench.
The rest of the coven can only watch in horror or interest. Vittoria almost looks happy. I half hope the smell of demonic sex gets them all whipped up into a frenzied orgy.
I get a firm grip on a creamy thigh and thrust my entire length inside her dripping pussy, pounding all the way into her womb as I almost abandon myself to the lust. The sight of her breasts and body bouncing as I rut into her is gonna become a memory I’ll always carry long after she passes into the next world.
She begs. She cries out for more. And I’m free to give it to her. Her pussy is convulsing around my thick demon cock, and I don’t think she’s stopped coming since she climaxed on my lap. I can’t help but chuckle, because fucking mon chaton is like a gift from some forsaken god. A god that appreciates the finer aspects of fornication.
I hold in my own climax, just to make her cry and beg and cum more for me. If it wasn’t for my spells, she would have torn long ago, but now her womb and cunt are able to take each thrust and I don’t wanna stop just yet. But I can’t keep it up forever, not when she’s practically begging for my seed.
One more thrust and I bury my cock deep. She’ll have bruises from my hands all over her hips and thighs tomorrow, and I can’t help but feel proud in the moments before my cock engorges and I release my thick demon jizz into her swelling womb.
Fuuuuck… don’t know if it’s my newfound freedom or what, but my hips just keep rocking a little, pumping the head of my cock in her womb as I keep cumming inside her. Asami looks completely lost as she lays collapsed on the altar, skin flushed from sex. So lovely. So mine….
When my dick finally releases its hold on my own mind, I kneel before the little sacrificial lamb. The other mortals have fled, though I have to take a moment to snap the dead crone into her bed. It’ll look natural, because that’s what magic is.
Spreading Asami’s knees apart, I take fascination in the way my seed begins to leak out, dripping onto the stone. If she hadn’t been on birth control, well, let’s not think about that right now. She finally begins to stir, though she still isn’t coherent, as I bury my face in her pussy to lap up the combined mess of our lovemaking.
I love the way she mewls when I use my tongue to push some of my jizz back inside her. I could spend all night devouring her. But she’s spent. I’ve leached out too much of her energy as it is just to keep the old bitch from killing her.
With a sigh of regret and the hope for another rendezvous with mon chaton, I wrap her up in my dinner jacket and teleport us back to her suite. She is exhausted, so I perform my last duties as a butler and kindly wash her body clean before setting her into bed with a kiss of farewell on her neck.
THE END