The Demonologist – Contract Marriage

For the eyes of Riker Fieldling,

This letter is to inform you that The Council has decided that you are hereby relieved of your duties as an apprentice in the Tower of Mages. It has been voted that your abilities are lacking and your studies are too far behind your peers to be reasonably salvageable. The time and effort of our qualified Tutors cannot be squandered on students with so little promise. The Council is prepared to accept some of the blame for being so sorely mistaken when your potential was judged. The Council extends our utmost condolences that you were ever given the impression that you were capable of ever joining the ranks of The Order and its prestigious Mages. Perhaps now you can at least put your utter incapability behind you, and hopefully free yourself to pursue a future in a field more suited to your talents. Perhaps the bakers or potters guilds are offering open apprenticeships? You have the day to pack your belongings minus the official Order robes, books, and equipment. Be off of the grounds by sunset or be subject to punishment as deemed necessary by the Order Prefects for trespassing on Order property. You have been warned.

-From the desk of Kuran Malash, dictated but not read.




    “Riker Fieldling! By the Order of Highlord Hawke, for the crimes of willingly utilizing unsanctioned magic, you are hereby charged to come out and surrender!”

    The voice cut through the fog of sleep like a hot knife through the already mushy butter currently serving as Riker’s brain. He opened his eyes and looked around him. Day beaded in through the thin orange fabrics of his tent. He slowly sat up as the Order official outside continued his tirade, listing various crimes, all of which seemed to pertain to some illegal use of magic. Riker hung his head in his hands, rubbing his temples in an effort to relieve the dull ache between them.

It took a minute for the words to register through the haze, and when they did, Riker immediately lurched forward and vomited on his bedroll. “Uraghhh…” he groaned, regretting very much the events of the previous night. He then proceeded to go about his daily morning ritual, which involved thoroughly regretting his decision to drink, and then vowing never to do it again. Of course, not even Riker believed he would follow through with this promise. The vow had been reforged every morning for at least three years, and then summarily broken so many times that pieces of it littered the countryside like so much horse shit.

As the events of last night came rushing back into his memory like water surging into a basin, he looked around his tent. Empty, save for the various bottles, bits of food, his blanket, his pillow, and his now vomit-stained bedroll. Yesterday’s robe lie in a crumpled heap in the corner. He shuddered when he saw the garment, looking around again before relaxing, taking comfort in the knowledge that SHE at least was not there. He hadn’t seen HER in a while, and as far as Riker was concerned, that was a good thing.

He leaned over and wiped his mouth on yesterday’s robe. He never minded the laundry, mostly because none of it was very real in the first place. His clothes, everything inside the tent, even the very tent itself, were constructs made entirely of manifested magic. Chores were made immeasurably easier when you could just dispel dirty clothes back into formless magic, then reshape it into pristine condition.

For your average wizard, constructing something physical from raw magic was tiring work. It was an effort too draining to bother with for menial tasks. Most mages would need concentration and time to manifest in a similar manner, but Riker was different.

He had found a different path to power from the dusty tomes of the stuffy Order mages that rejected him. A path that allowed him to influence reality with only a slight application of magic. A way of utilizing magical energy that made it trivial to perform feats that would have had your average brush wizard’s brains leaking out of his ears, down his body, and settling in his boots.

So, it wasn’t even the slightest effort of will that produced a glass of water floating in the air in front of him, which he snatched and drank greedily in an effort to wash the taste of vomit and last night’s beer out of his mouth. He gargled the last of it and spat it out to the side.

    The sound of the adjutant’s yelling became a garbled blur to Riker’s sensibilities. He thought about going out just to shut the man up, but a more pressing need came over him. He swifty gestured in a sweeping motion with his hand, and a hole opened in the tent, revealing the woods behind. Riker made a few gestures, weaving a spell to bend light around him, and then ducked out of the hole heading entirely in the opposite direction of the yelling official.

    “Riker Fieldling!” shouted the adjutant once more, “Come out or prepare to be taken by force!” He then waited for the fugitive to surrender himself, but once Riker failed to come out with his hands up, the adjutant huffed. “Have it your way!” He said, then gestured at the line of mages cowled in Order robes. A chorus of incantations welled up before a myriad of flashes flared out. Fire, ice, and a varied sort of colored energy seared from the line to engulf the tent in what had to be an impressive show of magical power. The energy collided, resulting in a multi-colored explosion that left only a scorched patch of rainbow ash where the tent once stood.

The adjutant watched the smoke well up as the magic dissipated, then pulled a frown at the resulting scorch mark. “Find him!” he snapped after a moment. “He can’t have gone far!” The official knew that Riker Fieldling would not have been dispatched of so easily.

    Riker’s invisibility spell could have kept him hidden from even the magic-detecting incantations that the cowled wizards were weaving, but being invisible did not prevent a team of sweeping wizards from noticing the stray stream of yellow liquid materializing out of thin air against a tree.

    “Here!” called the unfortunate cowled wizard who had stumbled upon the relief of Riker Fieldling’s bladder. The poor mage found himself more unfortunate once the enchantment dispelling magics rolled in and revealed the mostly naked form of the fugitive still enjoying his morning piss. Riker rolled his head back as he felt the magics rolling off of him like water, sending an unwelcome shiver down his spine as he emptied his bladder on the unpresuming tree. “Riker Fieldling!” called the Adjutant as he rode up. “Surrender now or be-”

“Say one more word before I’ve finished and I promise you the next phrase out of your mouth with be ‘My dick! Chief God above, it bit me in the dick!’” Riker said dryly, interrupting the adjutant as the fugitive continued to relieve himself. The voice of Riker Fieldling sounded powerful, confident, and painted the picture of a man who sat alone in dark rooms moving little soapstone figures of people around on a chessboard. Riker’s voice was everything that he wasn’t.

    It was this voice that caused the cowled mages to give pause, especially the adjutant who was in no hurry to find out what ‘it’ could possibly refer to, nor why ‘it’ would be so inclined to bite such a sensitive area. Of course, it was also at least partially the fact that no one dared approach a naked man in mid-stream. The air grew oppressively silent as Riker finished, then turned around. He didn’t cut an oppressive sight, being built like half a twig, half-shaven, and with eyes half-lidded as if he were only half-aware of what was happening around him. Riker’s morning hangover threatened to send him vomiting again, but his stomach was running on empty. He coughed a bit into his hand, and stretched out. Riker never felt shame in being naked. Not anymore.

    Riker yawned loudly and dismissively, though it was largely for show. “You wake me up. You attack my tent with your impotent magic… You don’t let me get dressed or even take my morning piss, for Chief God’s sake! I would have expected this manner of foolishness out of you, Adjutant Coul. But the rest of you…” Riker looked around with what he hoped was a stern glare at the assembled wizards, hamming up his performance for anyone who didn’t know too much about him. The wizards collectively took a step back. “Do you even know who you face?” Riker asked threateningly, thinking to play his part up a bit. It had been his experience that it never hurt to have intimidation on your side. He exercised his magical energy, sending mana swirling in a dark purple light around his form.

    “Take him!” commanded Adjutant Coul. The wizards flared out with their own energy, and sent it sailing at Riker. Their energy impacted his and another explosion roared out. The wizards waited for the smoke to clear before Riker stood there, unharmed. He had managed to conjure his robes onto his body. He threw his arms wide, his black robes hemmed with glowing purple runes. They didn’t actually do anything, but they certainly looked malicious. “Suffer! You will ALL suffer!” Riker yelled defiantly.

    More magic erupted from the surrounding wizards, and Riker felt them impact his swirling energy before their spells could hit him. He laughed maniacally, the sort of laugh expected to come after a sentence like ‘Now the whole world shall be mine!’. It seemed to have an effect. Through the spells flying through the air, Riker could see the mages looked frantic. They were throwing everything they had to try and take him down quickly.

“Your pathetic magic is useless. Now this ends…” Riker wove a bit of magic into his voice, and spoke in a diabolical-sounding chant. “The Gates of Hellfire Beckon… Ad ligandum eos pariter eos coram me! OPEN, PORTAL OF SHADOW!”

    Unbeknownst to the Order mages, the chanting didn’t actually do anything. However, Riker was nothing if not theatrical, and as he spoke in his magically augmented voice, demons erupted from the portal en masse and swarmed the assembled spellcasters. A chorus of gleeful, demented giggling rose up with the mage’s screams as all present were overtaken, save for Riker himself.

    Beelzebubs, devils, dark slimes, lesser succubi, and imps charged out of the portal and set to claiming the mass of soul energy the mages had been unleashing with their magic. Riker watched the proverbial massacre as the screams were steadily silenced, and then the moaning began. He shook his head, and walked off. His strides were labored and his breath was heavy. He was tired, but watching the summoned creatures rape the Order mages was something he did not want to watch. Riker even figured that most of them would be married by the time the sun had set. Probably even more than one demon to a man.

    Once the sounds of the impromptu orgy between demons and unwilling mages faded out of earshot, Riker stopped and rested against a nearby tree. His breathing came in gulps of air and sweat beaded on his forehead. Summoning random objects like clothes were no problem for him, but summoning so many demons to his side had taken a large toll.

    “Well THAT was dramatic…” came a familiar voice, sarcastic and unamused. Riker looked over to see the speaker, and frowned. The blue-skinned demon looked back at him with eyes like glowing coals set in a tar pit; a smirk played across her deep blue lips. Riker looked away, both from her expression and her body. He heaved a sigh, and magically produced a cigar between his fingers. “Gotta give them a show, you know? Now go do something useful, I’m sure the price for the summoning is being milked out of those mages right now.” said the weary summoner, making obvious attempts to avoid looking the demoness in the eyes.

    “Well…” said the demon as tantalizingly as she could, moving her head side to side in a mocking manner, causing her abundance of chest to jiggle enticingly. Kali was built quite unlike any human woman Riker had seen. If human beauty was a perfected marble sculpture, then Kali was a clay figure moulded by a horny teenager. Her hair was long and shone like gossamer. Her face was sharp and angular; her lips were full and always seemed slightly pouty. Kali’s ample bust was large enough to have made a holstaur green with envy,  yet somehow possessed a perk that defied most of the common laws of physics. Probably even a few of the uncommon ones, too.

Her waist was impossibly thin, and apt to give anyone with even the most cursory knowledge of anatomy a headache once they started to question how all of her organs lined up inside. This contrasted her hips, which more than hinted at the word ‘childbearing’. Her legs were slender with the exception of modestly pillowy thighs.  Her clawed feet were hidden inside of stylized leather fuck-me-boots.

Everything about Kali seemed designed with sex in mind. There wasn’t a singular feature she possessed that didn’t entice Riker, or at least put him in a mindset to be enticed. Kali’s form made no pretense of having anything to do with that whole evolution business. The demoness’ body clearly portrayed that it was meant for one thing: fucking. Kali’s very presence suggested an ocean of pleasures in which to drown. “…their price is.” she said tauntingly after a length.

Riker pulled a face, “Dammit, Kali, really?” he said, in the middle of conjuring a flame to light his cigar. She pulled an indignant face right back. “Yes, really.” she said as-a-matter-of-factly. “Those mages might unwillingly pay the price to the demons you summoned, but you know very well that my price is yet to be paid. And YOU are the only one who can pay it.”

    He looked away. Yes, he knew. He always knew. He hadn’t even the fleetest hope that Kali would not collect her due. Damn the adjutant, and damn the cowled mages for making him expend so much magic. Summoning demonic portals like that took a great effort, and Kali would expect a great payment. He inhaled deeply on his cigar, and through a cloud of smoke, spoke bitterly. “Fine. Come take your toll. I’ll have you know that I haven’t showered in three days, so enjoy…”

    To his surprise, her smile widened a bit. Paying no heed to his curt words, she said “Lucky for us, there’s a stream not too far from here.”

Riker rolled his eyes at this. “Whatever,” he said, then winced as he was overtaken with a fit of coughs. Kali walked over and snatched the cigar out from between his teeth, said “You know that’s not good for you right now…” and stamped the smoldering tobacco into the dirt with the black heeled boots she wore. Riker had always thought that it must be uncomfortable to wear black heels everywhere, but his mind was currently not so much on her footwear as on the cigar stamped underneath them.

    He looked at her angrily, about to protest before she cut him off, rolling her eyes. “You can have one after we get you fixed up.” she said. She always disapproved of his cigar habit, almost as much as she disapproved of his drinking habit.

“I’m fine!” Riker protested, attempting to push Kali away and take a step off at the same time. He suddenly grew dizzy and pitched forward. “Watch out!” the demoness gasped as she caught his robes and pulled to steady him on his feet. His momentum reversed, and he came to rest in her pillowy cleavage. “…You did that on purpose.” came Riker’s muffled indignance.

    A sly smile crossed Kali’s face as Riker looked up at her. Her red claws ran through his hair, stroking his head and massaging his scalp at the same time. “Maybe just a little.” she answered. Riker tried to push himself away again, but only managed to right himself at arm’s length. Kali shook her head, still smiling. Riker shook his head, narrowing his eyes in a silent retort, before turning around in her arms.

    The demoness stepped into him, her dark blue breasts pressing into his back, and the devil summoner did his absolute best to ignore her. Riker remained stoic, frowning even as he felt her warm breath on the back of his neck. The hairs on his neck stood on end of their own accord as a shudder made its way down his spine. He slackened a little, his body relaxing even against his stubborn will. “You know…” said Kali in a sultry whisper, right into his ear.

    Riker felt a claw brush against the bare skin on his stomach as Kali ventured a hand into his robe, and winced a little. Her voice came again, he could feel the whisper on his ear.  “I’ll bet all that energy got you a little… tense…”

    Those red claws of hers traced down his stomach, and wrapped around his cock. Riker never bothered with underwear, so his rigid length was an easy target. Her claws were warm, and her touch was gentle, tracing little lines over and under his length. Riker cleared his throat in an effort to conceal the moan welling up inside of him; Kali was very adept at pinpointing his weak spots. She rubbed his length with the soft fleshy part of her hands before she began to slowly stroke him, applying a light pressure. Riker was losing the battle to control himself, and began to step away.

    However, the only thing he managed to do was allow Kali to apply a rather firm stroke as his movement away from her caused his momentum to drive his cock through her fingers on the backstroke. He gave out a moan, and then coughed in hopes to save face. Kali laughed. “Be as grumpy as you want, there’s no denying that you like it.”

    Riker fell silent. He knew that the demonic pact he signed in blood made him a willing victim to her attentions. His soul practically cried out for demonic energy to replenish the magic he had lost with his portal spell, a cry that the demoness was all too happy to answer. “As if I had any other choice…” Riker said after a lengthy silence, while Kali continued to stroke him with a softer grip.

    “Ah~” Kali moaned into his ear, “It’s already so warm and stiff… I can feel your heart beating, you know. Ba-bum. Ba-bum. Ba-bum…” she said, in tune with his heart. Her ba-bums grew faster as his breath came quicker. He was losing his patience and his resolve at the same time. He sighed again, before saying, “Can we just go now?”

“All right, grumpy.” Kali laughed, moving to his side and helping him meander his way into the woods off of the trail he had been following. She was right about the stream, it hadn’t been too far away. The cool waters meandered lazily through the forest, clear and inviting. The sound of the water made Riker realize how dry his mouth felt.

“Thirsty…” he said weakly. The dizziness was growing worse, and all of the power and poise from his voice had gone. In his condition, Riker Fieldling sounded meek and helpless. “I’ll get you some water.” Kali said as she set him down by the river bank. Riker groaned as if in disgust. Kali rolled her eyes.

“Not everything you drink can be beer and wine, you know!” she said irritatedly.

“Sure it can.” Riker said, feeling mildly better now that he was sitting on the soft, cool grass. “You just won’t let me.”

    “Well, someone has to look out for your health.” Kali said coldly, sitting down beside Riker and pouring some water from a conjured flask into his lips. “Demon Lord knows you won’t. So that means I get to.” she said.

“…But I hate you.” answered Riker after a few swallows.

“That’s okay.” Kali said sweetly. She knew that he was at least ninety percent bluster, and Kali had found the best way to deal with Riker was to either ignore his little comments or simply not take what he said seriously. “Now let’s get you out of these clothes.”

    Kali finished giving Riker his drink and helped him out of his robe. She took her own clothes off, and then assisted him in walking to the river. They walked until they were waist-deep, and then started washing. Well, it was Kali that ended up doing most of the washing. By then, it had taken most of Riker’s concentration merely to remain standing upright. Her demonic senses could see the weak signature his soul energy was putting out. He was almost completely drained. She wasn’t surprised, it had been a while since Riker replenished his energy.

    Riker had always resisted replenishing his energy. He knew it had to be done, the Pact was very clear. Riker had no misgivings about where his power came from. However, despite full knowledge of their bargain, he still clung to some vestiges of his humanity. Kali figured it was some sort of stubborn pride, but she didn’t mind. The pride of mortals was fleeting, and she knew she would eventually have him completely. It was just a matter of time, and Kali was a patient demoness.

    Her claws gently roamed his body, washing away the filth and grime of the road until her wandering hands found his cock again, still erect. She giggled as she gave him a few soft strokes under the water. “You know, even if you still refuse to be honest, at least your body always tells the truth of your feelings…” She giggled slyly as she gave him a firm squeeze.

    “Hgh…” Riker let out an involuntary moan he managed to suppress into a small groan. “It’s the magic.” he said, doing his best to sound aloof. “We both know demon magic makes you horny…”

Kali pressed her breasts into his back again, dragging her erect nipples across his skin. “Reeeeally?” she said teasingly, “It’s all the magic? And none of it is me?”

“Yes.” Riker said flatly, keeping his words short lest he let out another moan. Kali, however, wasn’t deterred. She stopped stroking him with her hands, and stepped around in front of him. “So if I do this…” Kali said, her voice trailing off before she sank down into the water until nothing but her head was above the surface. Riker didn’t have time to contemplate what the demoness’ plan could have possibly been before he felt the water slick softness of Kali’s breasts envelop his cock.

    Riker grunted a bit, trying to hold back the pleasure, the marshmallow softness of Kali’s blue tits pressed around his cock head, before she leaned closer and his length sank into their pillowy depths. He watched as his erection slowly slid between her breasts, Kali batting her eyes up at him, wanting him to see himself sink into her. She pressed her tits together harder, and the soft embrace turned into a firm pressure. “Still nothing?” she asked teasingly.

    Riker shut his eyes to try and block out the image, hoping that not seeing it would make it less pleasurable. He was dead wrong, however, as Kali started to move. She dragged her breasts up and down his shaft, causing a paradoxical slick friction along Riker’s length. “You’re so cute when you resist~” she said, clearly taunting him as she saw his legs starting to shake.

    She continued to titfuck him until his breathing came ragged, allowing her demonic energy to seep from her and to soak into Riker through the conduit so nicely nestled between her breasts. She only stopped when he coughed again. She stood up, Riker still standing completely rigid with his eyes closed, as if his mind was trying to be anywhere else. She put her arms around him and smiled, “It’s okay to admit you enjoy it.”

Riker let out the breath he was holding like air escaping a punctured tire. “It really isn’t…” he said defeatedly, knowing that he couldn’t really pretend otherwise. His body was bound by the contract to respond to her advances. She guided him back to the shallows, brushing against his erection with her plump blue butt at every opportunity. By about the third time, Riker seemed to grumble a bit, “You really enjoy doing that, don’t you?” he said irritably. She held her wry smirk, “I really do.”

Riker stopped before the bank, causing Kali to look at him curiously. “You all right? You want to lie d-” Her words were interrupted by Riker pushing her forward over the bank of the river. “Wha-!?”  she cried as she was bent over in front of him. Riker glared at her, but it was more for show. The demonic energy had come to a head and was now telling him to fuck the blueberry strumpet in front of him, a command that he could no longer resist.

    Kali did not resist his rough treatment, and instead ensured that her round butt pressed nicely against his cock when she was bent over, even arching her back a bit to entice him. Riker continued to put up a cold front. He could not deny that even outside of the contract, he would be enticed by the demoness. He was a man, and her body was made to be fucked. Everything about her bypassed knowledge, reason, and burrowed straight into his brain to rest in that little basic evolutionary part that said ‘Breed.’ Riker surrendered to this instinct as the visage of Kali lay before him, bent over, and ready to accept his cock. The sight shattered any of his remaining reservations into more pieces than his drinking vow.

    He reached over to grab a handful of Kali’s hair, and yanked back. She gave a small yelp as her hair was wrenched into an uncomfortable position for her neck. She relaxed a bit, surrendering entirely to Riker’s administrations. He held her red gaze for a few seconds until he was certain he had her attention. She didn’t struggle or try to resist, looking back at him and showing him with her eyes that she was completely at his mercy.

    Riker moved his hips so that his cock was lined up with her sodden entrance, and pressed inward. He moved slowly, his fierce gaze burning hotter than Kali’s red eyes could match as his cock pressed in. She gave little whimpers, wanting to shut her eyes from the pleasure of her contract husband’s cock entering her, but obediently held Riker’s gaze. He moved as steadily as he could, making sure that Kali kept looking into his eyes the entire time he slid inward, until his cock rested fully inside of her. “This is what you wanted right?” he said sternly, his voice regaining its usual the power and majesty before Riker rocked his hips a few times, churning Kali’s insides.

    “Ohhh, fuck, yes…” Kali panted, her face contorting into a lascivious expression of pleasure as she savored the taste of Riker’s cock inside of her.

“If you’re going to just sit there and smirk like a whore, then you’re going to get fucked like one.” Riker said, pushing her forward with his hips and pulling her back with her hair. Kali let out a moan as she clenched her eyes, biting her lower lip. “Then by all means,” she taunted sultrily, “Make me sorry.”

    Riker kept hold of her hair, grabbing one of the demoness’ arms and pulling Kali off balance. He thrust forward with his hips, keeping a steady pace of long thrusts. He pulled back until his tip rested just inside her entrance, leaving her unsatisfyingly empty until he pushed back to sink his cock into her waiting depths. This caused her internal muscles to clench and spasm as if desperately trying to keep his cock inside, filling her with the taste of his soul energy as his precum joined her flowing honey to keep the friction inside of her nice and slick. She cried out with every thrust, whimpering with every backstroke.

    Riker would occasionally wrench her hair again, a sign to look at him. Kali obliged, gazing into his eyes as he fucked her long and hard. The only resistance Riker felt from Kali was when she reached her first orgasm, tensing up and pulling against his grip as her entire body contracted. All of her muscles clenched, even the one currently being held open by Riker’s cock. Her orgasm washed over her, the taste of her husband promising every bit of release she needed. Riker could feel her lower lips twitching about his cock, spasming as if it might hold back the pleasure currently surging through the conduit that connected them. Riker, however, wasn’t done. He fucked her through two more orgasms before his breathing became heavy, his soul drinking in the demoness’ magic greedily.

    As he felt his orgasm approach, he found that his current pace of long, slow strokes were not bringing him on fast enough. He let go of her hair, and grabbed Kali’s waist, pulling her back onto his cock. He increases his pace, his strokes not coming so far out, allowing most of his length to remain inside of the demoness and continue stirring her insides until she bit her lower lip so hard he thought he was able to see a trickle of blood run down her deep blue lips.

    Riker felt himself toe the edge of his precipice, and then gave one final thrust forward, throwing them both off balance. Kali fell flat onto the bank, her feet slipping back into the mud and her arms giving out beneath her. Riker fell on top of her, his weight causing his cock to sink into Kali’s deepest reaches before his orgasm washed over him. His cock twitched a bit before a torrent of hot seed poured into Kali’s belly. They both moaned as Riker’s soul energy flowed into the demoness, and her demonic energy surged through the summoner. He felt his drained weakness leave him, rejuvenated and invigorated with the rush of magic that seeped into his body. He felt powerful again.

    The demonologist stayed like that, thrust deep into her until his orgasm pattered off and they slipped into the warm afterglow of post-coital bliss. It was a nice feeling, brimming with magic. The demon was lay out beneath him, her post-orgasm twitches massging his length affectionately, as if in thanks. There was that little evolutionary part of his brain surging with sexual hormones telling him that he was a powerful alpha male who had just dumped his seed into a proper breeding bitch, and that all was right with the world. That is, until the fantasy shattered and Riker realised that the power he felt was actually the demoness’. He was just borrowing it, a weak human in service to a demon.

As the afterglow started to fade, Riker stirred to get off from on top of Kali. She felt his softening cock slip from inside of her, leaving her not so full, but satisfyingly occupied with his warm cum. “Aww, I was hoping you’d leave it in a little longer…” she said, looking back at him and pouting slightly.

    Riker didn’t look at her, instead washing the vestiges of their copulation from his body before walking back onto the bank and wrapping himself in his cloak. He conjured up a cigar, lit it, and sat looking gloomy into the river, all but ignoring Kali. She scooted up to him, and sat beside him. Riker always got like this after sex, and she knew it was the post-coital shame setting in. Riker was always dour about having succumbed to her charms again, at letting a little bit more of his humanity slip away.

    Riker smoked his cigar, already knowing that this evening would be more drinking to forget. Not to forget the sex, the sex was always going to be a factor. A factor that he didn’t really mind. No, Riker drank to forget just how much he liked it. He sighed out a plume of smoke, just watching the river go by. Kali sat next to him, smiling. Yes, she thought, she would have him in time. Soon he would let go of this silly notion that his humanity was precious. It was already happening, she could see it in his soul. She would keep enticing him, pouring her demonic energy into him until he fully gave in and blossomed into a powerful incubus. It would take time, but it would happen eventually.

And she could wait until it did…

She was a patient demon.

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8 thoughts on “The Demonologist – Contract Marriage

  1. Clever. The weaknesses of humans and the strengths of demons explained perfectly, and how they chip away at our humanity, bit by bit. 😀

  2. Excellent wording and phrasing.
    Almost makes me want a Demoness of my own. But then I’d be hers and not the other way around, wouldn’t I?

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