Victoria's Demon Lover (2 page)

BOOK: Victoria's Demon Lover
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     “Wait!” she called to him,
“That was my floor!”

     He turned around as the car
stopped between floors.  The control panel flashed a red warning light and the
light panels above them dimmed and flickered.  He looked at her and she recognized
Michael.  From Legal.

     “Michael,” she said, “The
elevator is jammed.”

     He did not answer, but dropped
his briefcase and began to loosen his tie.  His hands slid down his shirt front
and flapped open his belt.

     “Michael!  Mr. Brand!”  She
put her purse in front of her and backed against the wall of the elevator car. 
She considered taking off one of her pumps and using it as a weapon.   She was
wearing the stilettos today. 
Good call.

    
By now his pants were
down around his ankles and his hand had retrieved his cock.  He pulled it out
from the slit in his boxers and held it like a weapon.  Victoria bent quickly,
dropped her purse and took a shoe in hand.

     That is when she met Michael
Brand’s eyes, her arm raised, ready to smack him with her shoe.  Mr. Brand from
Legal no longer looked at her with an attorney’s brown eyes.  They glittered
yellow with vertical slits.  His cock was no ordinary attorney’s cock, either. 
She dropped her shoe.

     “Demon,” she breathed.  He had
never come to her anywhere but at her own house.  Ever.

     The Demon did not speak but
instead arched backward to bring his hard cock forward so she could see it
better in the flashing emergency lights of the elevator.  He pointed his free
hand at her and all the buttons of her expensive blouse popped and bounced off
the panels of the elevator.  Her tight skirt fell to her feet and her bra and
panties split with the sound of tearing paper.  There was no resistance,
nowhere to go.  She swallowed, wondering at this new development and a small
quiet voice in the back of her head suggested that she was going mad, that is
was all a vision and that in a moment she would hear the bell that signaled
another start of another day in the office among invoices and phone calls.

     But his dripping cock was
before her now, and he was yanking hard at it, his yellow eyes moved up and
down the remnants of her business suit.  Her hairpins popped out of her hair
and the light brown chignon she had carefully coifed that morning unrolled,
allowing her hair the freedom to drift around her cheeks and over one shoulder. 
The gasped as the edges of her hair touched her breasts and he thrust his hips
in rhythm with the strokes of his hand.  The tips of her hair ticked her
nipples and made them stand firm and erect against the creamy whiteness of her
round breasts. His cock grew larger.  Not an ordinary cock. Not fist –sized
anymore.  Not the cock of a human.  This one was too large to fit inside a
woman.  Victoria eyed it with concern and her knees pressed together of their
own accord.

     “You would kill me with that,”
she said softly, hoping that was not his intent, though her own body had begun
to respond to the sight of the man pleasuring himself in so vigorous a fashion.

     He was panting and gasping,
pulling the shaft hard and spinning his fingers over the head with each
stroke.  He took a staggering step toward her, unsteady with his ankles bound
by folds of his designer trousers.  His arm pushed her against the panels of
the elevator.  The hand that had been squeezing his cock steered its hugeness between
her legs and aimed it up high between her legs.  She leaned away and tried to
keep her knees together, but he used his other arm on her shoulder to press her
down and into him.  She felt herself stretch with the effort of taking him in. 
He took his hand from the shaft when the head entered her and now used both
hands on her hips to position her better.  She felt like she was stuck high on
the limb of a tree.

     He stopped moving.  She
stopped trying to wriggle free.

     “Victoria,” he said.  Then his
hips moved and pushed the huge cock in further and lifted her toes from the
floor.  The elevator hummed and she heard distant pounding up the shaft.  The
firemen had arrived.

     She closed her eyes.  It
happened every time her demon lover impaled her.  Her body betrayed her.  Even
now she felt the gush of warm juices embracing his cock inside her, welcoming
his member to her soft insides.  She sighed with resignation.  He had been
waiting for that warm welcome.  Now he began to move again, the back of her
head tapped gently on the panels of the wall as he caught a rhythm that pleased
him.   She heard the banging rhythm of the firemen above, trying to break into
the shaft and open the trapped car.  The demon pressed harder, not trying to
pleasure her this time, but only himself.

     Her breasts bobbed from the
force of his thrusts, but by the time she had begun to feel the creeping
tingles that heralded a blossoming orgasm, he had finished.  His hot spurts
burned her inside as they always did and his groan and his grimace were on
another man’s face this time.  Michael Brand.  From Legal.

     The semen dripped down the
insides of her thighs as he withdrew a normal man-sized penis, now flaccid and
glistening.  The yellow eyes faded and were replaced by puzzled brown ones.

     Michael Brand frowned as he
recognized her, his eyes widened as he looked down at the limp penis in his
hand and at her torn clothing at her feet.  He looked at her and she saw panic
in the brown eyes.  “Victoria?  From Accounting?”

     A fireman’s ax crashed through
the overhead panel and it was peeled back to reveal the startled faces of three
members of Fraternal Order Number 586.

     Victoria heard her voice that
did not come from her throat scream, “Rape!”

 

Chapter Three

 

     There had been a security
camera in the elevator.  Victoria had not had to testify.  The camera showed
the back of Michael Brand’s head, it showed her clothes falling to the floor
and most importantly, her upraised shoe in a defensive position..  It showed every
one of the violent thrusts of his hips, and at the hospital, the nurses had
been sympathetic when they examined her.  The demon’s huge cock had made it
clear that those thrusts had shoved something hard  inside her.

     She sat at home now, weeks later,
in her bathrobe, cradling a hot cup of tea and watching the local news. 
Crying.

     The anchor who announced that
convicted rapist Michael Brand had hung himself in his cell before he could be
transported to prison.  The news reported said that he had used his shoelaces
tied together, but Victoria knew he always wore loafers.  She glanced up at her
ceiling, knowing the demon had arranged this.  There was to be a settlement. 
She would not be going to work in the morning, or ever again.

     She brought the teacup to her
lips, but her hands shook so much the tea merely sloshed over the rim and into
her lap rather than into her mouth.  She set it down.

     “How could you do this to
someone?” she asked the window, then at the ceiling.  “How could you ruin and
kill someone so harmless?  He had a wife and three kids not even in school
yet.”

     “You forget I am a demon.”

     She jumped, glad she had set
the tea down.  He was right.  She had forgotten.  Always she had assumed he was
a figment of her imagination, a mental plaything that made the monotony of her
days a little more exciting.  A lot more exciting.

     The lovemaking had seemed very
real every time, but so do dreams.  Her orgasms had been intense, and the
aftermath always left her weak and trembling and sometimes sore.  She had often
marveled at how real the encounters seemed.  Part of her refused to believe
that sexual contact with demons from hell could be real.  The sane part of her.

     The other parts were
satisfied.

     She looked for the source of
his voice.  He could be anywhere, look like anything.  There was a soft glow in
the corner near the fireplace.  She focused on that.

     “I thought you always came
here to pleasure yourself.  And me.”

     The glow swirled into a
shape.  He appeared as the man he had been the other night.  The night of the
freak storm over her roof.  She sat up straighter and pulled the edges of her
bathrobe together at her neck.  He was naked but for a loincloth tied
diagonally across his hips.  She took in the well-muscled torso and long thighs
before glancing at the strange scar across his throat.

     She swallowed.  “You look like
a man now, not a demon.”

     In answer he intensified the
bright yellow glow of his eyes, and blinked so the vertical slits of his pupils
dilated then thinned.  The eyes were not human.

     “What…what do you want?”  She
glanced at the television which droned on now about the local high school.  He
raised an arm and the screen blinked off.

     “I have come to see how you
are.”

     If he had said he had come to
tie her up and eat her soul he could not have shocked her more.  She stood then
sat down again as her knees were too weak to support her.  Never had he
suggested that he cared even one whit about her.  Sometimes he had come in the
night, opened her legs, thrust himself inside for several strokes then
disappeared.  Other times he might flip her over and pound inside her like a
stallion does a mare and disappear, leaving her face pressed into her pillow,
too surprised to be sorry it had been over so quick.

     She tilted her head at him and
blinked.  “How I am?” she whispered.

     His human face melted itself
into an expression of discomfort for one second before he disintegrated.  The
wall behind him glowed with the afterimage outline of his body.  She got up and
walked to the wall and touched it with the fingers of one hand.

     “I’m okay.  I guess.” She said
to the wall.  “I am very sorry for Michael Brand’s family.  I feel terrible
that I have caused them so much pain, and angry that you did this and forced me
to take the appearance of a victim of your crime.  The money feels tainted and
I can’t look at my bank statement without nausea.”  She took her hand from the
wall and watched as the silhouette of his presence faded back to the Crème
Fraiche color she had painted on it last fall.  “That is how I feel.”

     Victoria continued, “I’m
blacklisted, you know.”  She put her hands on her hips, warmed up by this
opportunity to unburden herself for the first time.  “No one will hire me. 
Everyone in town either despises me or pities me.  No one calls.”  Her voice changed
and became sad, “Well, my cousin Bob from Cincinnati called.  He asked for a
loan to buy a car.  And my cousin Ed from Jersey called.  He wants a loan for
first and last month’s rent so he can leave his wife.  My sister called and
told me she wishes she had been raped at work in an elevator so she wouldn’t
have to work two jobs to support her and her kids.”

     Victoria sat in the wingback
chair by the cold fireplace.  She looked at her hands.  “You must have done
this for a reason, demon.”

     There was a flash in the room
and she sat back in the soft cushions of the upholstery.  He appeared again,
this time as the red demon with horns and a pointed tail.  It waved behind him
back and forth like an angry cat.  The yellow eyes blinked over and over and
her and when he spoke her revealed a row of pointed teeth behind the shining
red lips.

     “I have.”  He reached for her
with a huge hand tipped with sharp black nails and pulled her from the chair. 
He pushed her down to her knees and moved his hips toward her face.  His
engorged cock glistened red and shiny before her face.  She sighed, not at all
in the mood for sex.  She was still thinking about her sister’s request for a
loan and her cousin’s failed marriage.

     The demon insisted.  The cock
swelled.  At this distance she could see the ripples along the shaft and the
split engorged tip with its small slit like a closed mouth at the end.  The demon
pushed it closer to her, but she waited for instructions.  Hand job?  Blow
job?  Or did he just want her to watch as he masturbated?  He did that
sometimes, aiming his cum to spurt over her breasts and nipples, then the
hollows of her neck and into her hair.  He had plenty of cum.  More than a real
man.  It was thick and sometimes creamy white, sometimes clear and shining,
sometimes red as blood.  Always hot.  It always burned.  Sometimes it left
marks on her.  Sometimes it blistered.   She touched her throat.  She did not
like sucking it until it came inside her mouth because it burned her and choked
her and made her speak in a sexy throaty voice for days afterward.  She hoped
that was not was he wanted tonight.

      “No. Watch.”  He pushed her
down.  She lay on her back and he straddled her, standing over her with one
monstrous foot on either side of her hips. She looked up at the huge demon-body
that towered almost to her ceiling.  The huge cock and balls the size of
oranges blocked most of her view, but the rippled abs and broad red chest were
visible above them.  He bent his neck to look down at her.  She saw the glowing
yellow eyes and the thick curling horns on the sides of his head.

      His right arm bunched with
muscle as he grasped at the root of his cock and pulled it tight.  She felt her
legs spread apart and her knees lifted by soft touches of air and the tingling
of electricity.  Her hips came off the ground as he positioned her without
touching her.  She knew what was coming and for the first time in this evening
she felt a tingling of desire.  He would use his tail on her.  She sighed a
little breathless breath in anticipation.  He knew that was her favorite. 

     His tail snaked around his
hips and hovered before her eyes.  The end changed into different shapes,
slowly molding themselves for her selection.  She loved this.  She blinked at
each one.  The first was a normal man-shaped penis, the next the same but
uncircumcised.  Boring.  The next had a split end like a two-headed snake, the
next a thick ring that vibrated gently.  She reached out and grabbed his red
ankle.

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