5 comments/  13008 views/  2 favorites

Demons

By: Kirk482002



Christmas is approaching again. Before my ex wife left ten years ago, Santa was still alive and well in my daughter's imagination. I enjoyed the holiday season back then, never letting anyone forget what Christmas was really about. The last Christmas we were together we attended midnight service singing His praise. By New Year's Eve she had left, moving in with some man that I had no idea even existed. 

She never voiced any interest in seeking custody of our daughter. I'm glad she didn't. My love for her became the only anchor in my life. I lost my job, my health suffered from complications with diabetes, and I battled with cancer. As things got worse, my thoughts toward the church cooled and I started missing services. When the Pastor came to my house to find out why I had become truant, I found that he was more concerned about getting that envelope from me every week, rather than helping me through the dark times. I fell victim to having dark, hateful thoughts. 

No one was safe from them except my little girl. I found myself actually wishing ill will to people for no good reason at all, and my relationship with the church ceased. Hatred filled me. I was in contempt for those happily married, in good health, and those 'good wishers' that told me to keep my chin up.

Eventually I found a good job, beat the cancer, and got better at controlling the diabetes. My dark thoughts faded and I began attending church services again. My daughter has enjoyed good health and is near the top of her class. 

Full of the holiday spirit, she wants a tree this year. We hadn't had one in years. I believed it was a lot of fuss for just the two us, but I relented and started clearing a corner in the living room while she went shopping for one. I pulled out a chest from the wall and found a picture that had fallen behind it. It must have been there a long time, because I forgot that it even existed. 

There sat my Grandparents in my parent's living room with me, my brother, and my sister sitting at their feet. It was obviously Christmas time with all the decorations on the wall. I placed it as '58 or '59 looking at age of us kids and knowing my Grandfather died in early '61 after a long stay in the hospital. He looked well in this picture. My Grandmother was smiling as she always did, but I suddenly felt cold. Putting the picture down, I noticed my hand was shaking. I'd had problems sleeping lately, but after seeing this picture, I was beginning to understand why. A memory lying dormant for years suddenly came rushing forward in my mind. 

* * *

It was Christmas Eve of '62 and my Grandmother had come to spend the holiday with us. She had a Pennsylvania Dutch background and that meant lots of food and cake and cookies for dessert. She arrived with container after container of cookies and pies she had baked over the previous months and had frozen for the visit. My older brother and little sister watched with delight as each container was brought in and stored in our parent's room for the proper time and place for serving. I loved her very much, but it just wasn't the same without my Grandfather.

'Nana', my Mother's Mother, was widowed when 'Grandpop' died early the previous year. I was devastated with his passing, loving him more than my own Father at the time. I'm sure it had something to do with my Mother's influence, but my life was governed by the last and the next time I was going to see him. 

Nana was a wonderful woman. She always had a story to tell, hugs for the kids, and laughter and cheer for all. She was a God fearing woman that wouldn't take the Lord's name in vain or cuss even in the nastiest situations. Being Pennsylvania Dutch, she had a bit of an accent, and my name always came out "Chonny," instead of "Johnny."

I was seven years old and it was snowing like a banshee outside. Schools were closed and my Father had taken off work early to get Nana before she was stuck home for the holiday. As my Father and Mother finished bringing in the containers and then her suitcases, Nana came through the door and was nearly knocked flat as my siblings and I rushed to hug her. She was a large woman and had trouble bending down to hug us. When all the kisses and hugs were done, she produced three wax paper packages of cookies that she had held aside for us. It was if she'd given us the most precious gift we'd ever receive. Her cookies were that good. There were raisin-oatmeal, sugar cookies, ginger snaps, peanut butter filled, chocolate frosted, ginger bread, and my favorite, chocolate chips.

"Mom!" scolded my Mother, as she came out of the bedroom.

"Come on, Anne, let me have some fun with the kids," replied Nana, giving us kids a wink.

"You're with kids all day long," replied Mom, giving us the evil eye for not asking her first.

My Mom was right. While my Grandfather was still alive, he was a janitor for a local church. They lived in the old rectory in lieu of a full salary, earning enough for food and small essentials. Grandpop was on the board of elders and Nana taught Sunday and Summer School. When he died, Nana was asked to find another place to stay. She found a government subsidized apartment building in the city, refusing to take up an offer from my parents to live with us. She wanted her independence, but that independence carried a price. She didn't drive and the neighborhood was in decline. Walking to the corner store for supplies ended the first time she was mugged. My Mother visited her weekly to take her shopping; otherwise, Nana never left the apartment. Some weekends the whole family would visit her and it lifted her spirits. Once and a while, she would begin to cry and us kids were ushered off to another room until she was done. We didn't know what was wrong. The following year she got a job as a crossing guard for the local elementary school. It seemed to perk her up, because she always had stories about the 'little ones' to tell after that.

Nana visited about once a month, spending the weekend or the week, depending on what her plans were with my Mother. When visiting, the sleeping arrangements for my brother and I on the second floor changed. There were two bedrooms and a bathroom at the top of the stairs. If you turned right at the top of the stairs, there was a door leading into my brother's room. Straight ahead was the bathroom and to the left was an open walled bedroom, which was mine (no fourth wall with a door and no privacy). Nana used my brother's room, my brother used my bed, and I got to sleep on an old sofa parked in my room.

My brother and sister had already finished off their treats, but I had most of mine lined up on the coffee table.

"Don't you like them, Chonny?" she asked.

"Yes! I'm just trying to make them last longer," I replied, chewing a gingerbread arm.

"Hey look over there!" shouted my older brother, pointing out the back window.

I fell for it and lost three cookies in the process. My little sister then tried the trick, but to no avail. 

"I'll take care of you later," Nana said to my brother, as she produced another small pack of cookies from her pocket and handed it to me.

The look of doom came across my brother's face, knowing his would be the smallest piece of pie served for dessert, if he got any at all.

The early evening went by with us setting up the tree (a family custom doing it on the Eve), eating sandwiches and her apple pie, (brother did get a piece) and chatting about what we kids wanted from Santa (brother was enlightened, but kept up the façade for us younger ones). Nana was the official ornament director, telling us kids where to place them and giving us the story behind each. (They were her heirlooms given to us.) When we finished, it was time for bed. I was having so much fun I didn't want it to end. I hugged and kissed my Mother and Nana and headed up to bed. A feeling of dread came over me as I made my way up the steps to my room. I went to bed on the sofa keeping a bright nightlight to ward off the monsters that come out in the dark. That night, as with all of her visits, I wasn't worried about monsters.

It was her nightmares. Night terrors they're called now. Horrifying dreams so intense, they consume a person as they sleep and terrify those that hear the moans and screams forced from their sleeping lips.

They didn't happen every night she stayed with us, but they occurred often, sometimes several times a night. Somehow, in the two years following my Grandfather's death, it became my job to wake her from these night terrors. I don't remember how or why the task fell on me, it just did. It was never a pleasant experience waking her. Thanksgiving weekend, I had to wake her every night. She never would tell me what her dreams were about when I woke her. I'm not sure if anyone ever knew. 

That night I stayed awake, waiting for her to come up the stairs to go to bed. (Being Christmas Eve also had the added benefit of waiting for Santa's sleigh to land on the roof.) Soon the lights downstairs would go out and she would be in my brother's room. It was a longer wait than I expected and I eventually fell asleep.

There was a thump and I was wide-awake. At first I thought Santa had landed on the roof. Then there was another thump and my heart started to race with the anticipation of Santa's arrival downstairs. There were several more thumps ...then a moan. 

That fast, my elation was burst like a balloon as the realization set in that Nana was having a dream. Sometimes at this stage, the dream would pass, and I would be spared from having to wake her. The next minute or so would be the key. The thumping continued as her flailing fists were hitting the wall next to the bed. She moaned again and fell silent. I held my breath, knowing the next few seconds were it.

There was a piercing scream.

My startled brother jumped a foot in the air on the bed, but did nothing to help.

Reluctantly, I went to the door and turned the knob. The thumping had intensified and the screams were nearly continuous. Thanksgiving night she had slashed me with her nails and bruised my upper arms with her fists. She would lash out wildly as I tried to shake her awake. Even with all the injuries I received, her shrieks were the worst to take as a seven year old. They caused nightmares for me. When she would finally wake, she always asked me to sit with her for a while. She knew she had hurt me, and how I hated to wake her. She also knew how scared I was. I suppose it helped to clear her head as she held me and apologized. It helped some. I didn't want to do it anymore, but no one else in the house would wake her. 

I dearly loved my Grandmother. She would love to read you books or help you with homework. Her hugs were heartfelt and unconditional love radiated from her smile. My love for her and the terror of seeing her suffering with these dreams unsettled me to the point of near paralysis. 

I feared her like this. I dreaded her like this. I hated her like this. 

This time was the worst I had ever seen her. Both arms were hitting the wall as if to ward something off and her screams were like shrieks, as if she were fighting for her life. I froze in my tracks. I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life. One mighty swing of her fist put a hole in the wall and released the spell on me. I jumped on the bed and put my arms around her, pleading with her to wake up.

It took her a few seconds to come out of it, but she finally stopped thrashing and screaming. When she realized who was holding her down, she held me tight and just kept repeating my name, "Chonny, Chonny, Chonny."

When I returned to my room and the sofa, my brother instructed me not to wait so long next time and turn off the light I had on. Well after that, there was no way that light was going out.

Some time went by and she started again. I started to cry. I felt so bad for her having those dreams, but I was frozen in fear from the previous hour. Slowly I rose to a sitting position on the couch and saw someone standing at the top of the stairway. 

I rubbed my eyes and looked again as Nana thumped and moaned away in the closed room. I opened my mouth to say something and the man put a finger to his mouth to keep me quiet. I started to get up to run to him, but he put his hand up to stop me and motioned me back down. In his other hand, he was carrying a gray sack. He held it up in my direction and shook it. Then he opened Nana's door and entered.

The moans and thumping stopped. 

Out came the man holding the sack away from himself and it was obvious that something was kicking and thrashing about inside of it. He looked at me and smiled.

"Grandpop!" I said, jumping up to go to him.

Again he put up his hand to stop me and pointed to the bag, letting me know I didn't want to get near it. I didn't care. I closed my eyes and ran to him, but found myself running into the closed bedroom door instead. When I turned to look, he was nowhere to be seen.

Maybe I dreamed it, maybe not. All I know is Nana's dreams stopped. 

Santa came and Christmas went off without a hitch, except there was 36 inches of snow outside.

There were no more nightmares after that night.

Twelve years later, Nana's health began to fade and I would visit her at a nursing home on my way home from work a few times a week. One evening while helping her eat her dinner, I got up the courage to ask her what the dreams were about. At first she was lost, not remembering what I was talking about until I reminded her that I was the one that used to wake her.

"Monkeys," she said. "Monkeys on my back. They would claw and bite me and I couldn't get them off of me."

"Monkeys? Why monkeys?"

"When I was little, my parents took me to circuses all the time and there was always an organ grinder there with a monkey that danced and did tricks. I loved them and always petted them. I looked forward to seeing them. One time, after the little thing finished, it went around with a cup to collect coins for its master. It bit me as I tried to drop in a coin. The bite became infected and nearly killed me. After that I became deathly afraid of monkeys," she said, waiting for her next scoop of ice cream.

"Why were you still having these dreams so long after it happened to you?" I asked.

"They weren't just monkeys in my dreams; they were demons. Demon monkeys. I had many black thoughts after your Grandfather died, and this was my penance. I had to endure the monkeys," she replied.

"What black thoughts?" I asked.

She lowered her head and explained. "When Grandpop died, I became a different person. You wouldn't have liked that person, Chonny. I hated people. I wished them ill will. Eventually I changed back to my old self, but I had to pay the price for my hate."

I had to ask the question. "The dreams stopped very abruptly. Why?"

"Christmas Eve, '62. Harry came and took the demons away."

Her mouth was open waiting for the ice cream and my mouth was open in astonishment. The ice cream hung in mid air.

"W...Who?" I stammered.

"Harry, your Grandfather. Maybe you didn't know his name..."

"I remember his name. You just caught me off guard," I stammered.

"He was sent to take the demons away," she said, and then opened her mouth for the last scoop. 

So it did happen. At least between Nana and I it did. She passed away later that spring. 

* * *

It's strange how the mind works; remembering... or forgetting events in life.

You see, in the last few months, I've been having disturbing dreams.

I've woken my daughter on the second floor several times with my screams and she's come down to shake me awake. I feel bad for her since there isn't anyone else in the house to do it. Last night I scared her bad when I lashed out at her. She asks what the nightmares are about, but I won't tell her. I don't want to disturb her. 

I'm disturbed enough for both of us.

Demons.

Nana called them demons.

Grandpop took her demons away.

My demons look like Nana.

Who will take my demons away? 

Demons



They'd been seeing each other weekly for three months, talking online in between, both testing the waters, both uncertain and scared of hurt yet again, both with their own demons. Finally he began to show he was interested, it was her key to give her heart, that it would be safe Headlong she fell; again, foolishly she repeated mistakes of past failures, giving all of her, losing her own identity. Seeking acceptance from another when she should only seek it from herself. Some painful memories were triggered in him and he began to pull away. The more he retreated the more insecure she felt and the more she clung, the emotions and memories of past rejections stunned her, she thought she had dealt with them. Lowering herself and hating herself even more, she tried to hang on, the anxiety eating her up. Finally he called an end to it. Finally she accepted and threw herself into life on her own yet again. Telling herself daily she loved and accepted herself, nurturing herself as others in her childhood had failed her.

Months later when her anxiety had finally eased, when she had finally accepted he would never call and her pretend efforts at happiness and stability were no longer pretend, he contacted her. He wanted to see her again. She didn't question why, she didn't allow herself to get excited. Calmly she silenced the doubts as she dressed, her newly slim figure attractive in her new clothes. He sensed her distance when they met. He noted her lack of questions but he too was happy for once to not think or question.  

They had a lovely day together in the cooler autumn colours of the city, exploring the beautiful gothic cathedral, both soaking in the peace within its walls. The silences between them were comfortable. He treated her to a dinner at an exclusive restaurant beside the water, it had been years since she had been to one but she felt safe in his company. She felt very much the lady she was. The comfortable silence continued on their way home.

She walked into the well remembered, darkened apartment, found the candles and lit them in the bathroom while he watched on in silence. Looking into his eyes she slowly undressed, he followed her lead and did the same. She took his hand and led him to the shower. Without words they both lay on the floor of the shower. She wrapped in his arms. He began to urinate, the golden fluid arching in the flickering candle light covering both their bodies in the warmth. She breathed deeply, closing her eyes and sighing as the beautiful fluid fell on her skin. It wasn't a dirty act but one of such intimacy and complete acceptance. Both were free spirits and hated taboos, they both wanted to break all the boundaries, share it all, explore it all. Tenderly she licked the fluid from his skin as their fingers entwined; his hands tangled in her hair as he brought her lips to his so he could share the taste on her tongue.

In the candle light he knelt between her legs, she arched her back and proudly opened herself as her own piss began to flow and arch and cover his cock as he stroked slowly looking deeply into her eyes. Unbidden her tears began to flow at the intensity of the connection, the intensity of the total letting go with another, he smiled softly as he too felt it. His hands left his own body and sought hers. Gently he began to explore her arse. She pulled her legs back, opening herself, offering herself to him, trusting him completely "Hurt me" she whispered in the dark. The answering lust was instant as he plunged two fingers deep into her bowels, exploring, twisting, and seeking. He found and brought it to his cock, lovingly coating it and stroking. She knelt and took him into her mouth, loving the taste, loving how natural and beautiful and right it all felt with him. Loving the groan she heard coming right from his very soul. She knew finally she had touched him. 

They kissed, tongues penetrating and sliding and exploring with lust and hunger as their bodies joined all impotence issues of the past long forgotten as finally their minds stopped and allowed their bodies and souls to fly free. Neither knew where they began and the other ended, their lips together yet not kissing, just sharing the same breath as their bodies danced the primal dance. She cried with the beauty, she always knew such an experience was possible. She always knew she could fly free with the right man. She always knew it would be with him.

In the silence of the night she dressed. "Cheryl" she heard as she closed the door softly behind her. She didn't stop, somehow she knew his heart belonged to another. The tears fell silently as she walked away independent at last.



Demons



The mortals prepared their set for the sacrificial acts they would perform for the demons' amusement. They watched from below as the altar of four bars was constructed, everything ready for the sacrifice. 

The sacrifice was young, thin and beautiful, with shining brown eyes that spoke of the love that she held for those watching her, how ready she was to satisfy them. 

"Masters of the underworld," the priest announced, "For your pleasure and ours, we offer these prayers to you."

Five priests shared the temple floor, with a hundred others watching from the border of the round room, and the sacrifice at the centre. Surrounded by the priests, four male and one female, the sacrifice knelt on the altar with legs wide in the slots that had been carved for them. She bent her head as she grasped the uppermost bar, her cloak slipping from her shoulder to reveal the tight leather that covered her shoulder. One of the priests pulled it off to fully reveal her, tight leather corset pushing full breasts up and thong resting deep in her ass. Her bare thighs trembled along their length, at least six inches before they disappeared into leather boots. Her black hair bounced in energetic curls about her shoulders as the first priest placed his hand against her ass. This was an older man, hair streaked with grey and chiseled features just beginning to lose their definition; he had been their servant for many years. He walked around the altar as the rest busied themselves fastening the sacrifice at wrist, elbow, knee and ankle. 

"For our lords' amusement, you must love to suffer in their name," the priest said to her, his erect cock pushing the robe toward her face. 

"Yes, my lords, make me suffer," she murmured, and gasped as a priest slapped her ass hard. "Yes, for my demon lords, harder!" She screamed this time, the area of his palm flaring red on her skin. Her nipple was seized by the first priest and squeezed hard beneath first finger and thumb. He pulled it out and placed a metal hook against it, sliding it into the hole that had been placed at her first sacrifice and had long since healed. He repeated with the other and pulled straight back to provoke a scream before he loosened and made them swing together. He took both chains in one hand and grabbed a breast with the other, then slapped them as he pulled. Throwing her head back, she moaned in pain and pleasure at once. Her hips swayed and the first of her womanly juices escaped from next to the leather strap over her cunt and hung a moment in a droplet at the edge before escaping down her silken thigh in a narrow stream.

A cock slapped her face, causing her to open her eyes and her tongue traveled along her lower lip, leaving it glistening. "Open your mouth, harlot of demons," the priest said, rubbing his cock as he brought it to her lips. "Suck it."

Her full wet lips parted around the cock and she drew it in with the coaxing movements of her tongue. She sucked hard as she drew back and took it even deeper the next time, six inches of rigid flesh disappearing into her mouth. She bobbed as she sucked noisily and messily, her enthusiasm causing her ass to rock before the other priests. They touched their waiting members through the cloth but would never interfere with the order of the ritual. 

The sacrifice went deeper, the tip of her tongue brushing ball sack as it writhed against the cock, sucking but unable to keep the lustful saliva contained, it dripped from her lips as she ascended at the peak of his climax so he could splash the first sacrificial load across her cheek. She sucked the final drops free and let her mouth hang open to offer them to to the demons before she closed it and swallowed them down. 

The next act was already prepared; the sacrifice lay beneath the altar as the female priest stepped forward, disrobing to reveal large full breasts and a patch of pubic hair trimmed carefully into the grinning face of her masters. The smooth shaved lips beneath lowered onto the face of the woman, and her tongue moved deftly into the crevice. She lapped at the labia and curved her tongue around the clit as the priest clutched her breast.

"Yes, my masters," the priestess called. "This sacrifice is worthy, her tongue is so hot, and eager to serve." She added a wordless moan as her clit was sucked and the dextrous tongue penetrated her gash again. It waggled its way back up and toyed with the swollen clitoris until liquid rushed forth for the sacrifice to lap up eagerly. The priestess screamed and nearly fell over, but braced herself on the bars and was assisted to her feet. 

The next priest stepped forward, and knelt before the sacrifice with dick in hand. He was younger, darker, of exceptional stamina, and he would need to be for the task ahead. "Are you ready to get fucked?" he asked.

"Mm," the sacrifice replied, her eyes closed and legs open, her sacrificial hole soaking the leather strap that had slipped into it. "Fuck me for our demon lords. Fuck my filthy hole and leave your sacrifice deep inside..."

He raised a ceremonial blade and ran it carefully along the length of her bare thigh, then beneath the leather thong to slice it away and free her sopping cunt. He bent over her to kiss her as he guided his cock into her slick pussy. Thrusting in deep, he rolled his hips, then withdrew to do it again. He knelt, hauling her up by the thighs so their contact would not be broken and thrust harder, faster as he pulled her against him. The slaps of their flesh could nearly cover the grunts of the priest as he pounded her, the sighs of the sacrifice as she clenched her pussy every time he pulled back. 

He lifted one leg higher, across his body so he could turn her. Still attached in sex, she rotated around him until she landed on her knees. She lifted her ass so he could penetrate deeper, grinding against him. "Yes!" the sacrifice cried. "Fuck me harder! Fuck me like the demon whore I am!"

"You like getting fucked with all these people watching?" the priest grunted. "You're the whore of demons, and you love every second of it. Look at them, slut. Do you like their eyes on you?"

She looked around as her face was guided up, and felt the two hundred eyes on her, as well as the glowing red eyes of the demons residing below. "Yes," she panted. "Fuck me for our demon lords. Fuck me harder, and let them see it."

He lifted her body against his as he stood, placing her foot upon an upper bar of the altar and still not allowing his cock to exit her. He reached around to spread her wide as he thrust in again, and half the crowd had hands on their dicks or in their pussies, watching the priest's cock disappear further into the sacrifice and emerge with more shimmering juices coating it and running down her thigh as far as her boots. Every one longed to race forward and lick them clean, but none would interfere with the ritual. 

He took her foot down and bent her over the altar, where she gripped the lowest bar. He took an ass cheek in each hand and pulled them apart as he pulled three quarters of his staff free and squeezed them together as he buried it again. As he fell into a rhythm of energetic thrusts, his thumb crept into the crack of her perfect ass and against the twitching hole. Her back arched slightly and she slumped again with a sigh as he rubbed it harder, a shudder passing through her. 

"Use me as your lords command," she gasped as she moved her hips eagerly against him, squeezing his cock and his finger tight. His other hand had found her clit to coax her to climax to match his, and she was already close. "Fill me with your cum, give them every drop you have. You're so deep in me, give it to me and let me feel your heat spread through me, the heat of our lords' desire. Your cum is the only thing that can satisfy them, that can satisfy me. Come with me, for our masters!"

The priest stiffened, gripping her ass tight as his offering shot into the deep well of sacrifice. The throbbing wetness brought the sacrifice almost to the same point, but the removal of his fingers from her ass sent her over the edge. She convulsed and he held her through it, lifting her back up with his softening penis still deep in her vagina. He squeezed her breast as he exhaled through his nose in a sort of sigh before he dropped to his knees, then turned to face her sopping gash. 

Already, his pearly cum hung from her gaping hole in a thick bead, and he licked it up. He lapped at it as gravity began to deliver it to his waiting mouth, then put his tongue into the slick orifice to coax more free. He sucked still harder and passed his tongue teasingly over her labia and clit, smearing cum, saliva and her juices upward, contact finally breaking at her navel as he stood. He kissed her deeply, his cum passing from his mouth to hers as they kissed and she left her mouth open again for the spectators as long as she could before it ran free, and only spilled a little. She swallowed with a smile, and already felt the heat of another man behind her.

The next priest, as young as her with rugged features and thick brown hair, turned her as he lifted, and took her in a tight embrace to kiss her. Already disrobed, his cock throbbed impatiently as it pressed against her and wasted no time in penetrating her roughly. He lifted her legs around himself, placing her ass against the bar to thrust harder.

She leaned back so his face could fall into her cleavage briefly before she was put straight again by another set of hands. She felt another cock come softly beneath her ass as the hands moved downward, pulling her cheeks apart.

"Oh!" she cried. 

"Take it," said the man with the large penis, stretching her asshole wide. He thrust deeper "Take it for our lords and thank them."

"Thank you, demon lords!" she moaned. She continued wordlessly as the huge cock pressed further, until it disappeared completely just as the one in her pussy thrust in. 

"Tell them how it feels to be fucked for them."

"The prayers our masters command are the kindest of anywhere in the world!" the sacrifice cried. "These cocks feel so good in me, my love grows for our demon lords with every thrust! Oh, dear lords, the cocks are so deep, the way they stretch me so tight. I love the demons for choosing me, letting me feel this burning climax as though they were fucking me themselves!

"Ah!" she cried, "Ah, ah! Fuck me harder for our demon lords so they can see! Fuck! Ah, you're so...!" She gasped as she was lifted higher by the two men thrusting at once. "So deep, so fucking hot, your cocks feel so good. Fuck me for our demon lords. Fuck my ass and my pussy so they can be satisfied. The sacrifice needs cum, all the cum you can give me. I can feel the fire growing, it needs cum to put it out, so much gushing cum... Ah! Ah! Fuck!"

"You want our cum, whore?" the men asked as one. 

"Yes, I'm the demons' whore! Pay my fee, the fee they demand! Give me your cum!"

"Take it then," the man in her pussy grunted. He thrust harder, faster. Gripping her hair, he kissed her and held her body tight to his.

"Take it," agreed the man in her ass. He tensed in the height of his climax and delivered his load into her colon. The man in her vagina followed suit as he felt the convulses of the other through her. She closed her eyes to picture the streams of semen enter her as she knew the demons could see, both holes throbbing as their frantic convulsions caused her an orgasm as well. 

The demons watched inside her as every drop escaped before the breathing of the mortals came under their control. The softening members fell free at last, and narrow streams of cum with them. The sacrifice stood to the cheers of her townsfolk and stepped forward onto the rune, where she crouched on her knees and let the cum run free from both holes into a single white puddle.

She raised her arms, "For the demon lords, let us all pray!"

Most of the crowd turned amongst themselves, cloaks shed or reached within. A few stepped up for their chance at the sacrifice, surrounding her with groping hands and eager tongues, throbbing cocks awaiting their turn or sopping pussies waiting to be served. Even in the streets, every adult in town had gathered to pay homage to their masters, and the demons were satisfied for another month.



Demons



The problem with you being so far away from me is that I can't punish you properly for the problems that you cause.

You may not understand, but I live it. Texting with you about sex and rope. Seeing your cunt in every woman I see. Smelling your hair all around me. Thinking about tongues running up and down your skin and breathing in your smells. Your hands grabbing my head and pulling me closer to your cunt. My cock growing in my pants. Thinking about your dripping pussy and how I am going to tie you to the table and stuff you full of my swollen cock. Grinning at the people staring at us who are watching me pummel you and hearing us scream. Feeling us breathe. My dick is hard, all the time and without release.

It's time you receive what you're due. My retribution. 

I have never been more serious. 

You better get ready for me to ravage your body. For me to make you mine and to own every piece of you, to explore every square inch, inside and out, of you, to fill you up and hold you down, and not let you go until I am done with you - until you are completely mine.

Are you regretting what you've done to me...well then I better catch you before you run too far away.

Come here.

...

I said come here.

...

Come. here. 

You're mine and I have something for you. Something that's going to make this easier for both us.

I pull a heavy chain off the ground. 

Up against the wall. Push your self into the corner. Feel the cold brick of the wall and the frigid chain. We both know you like the way that feels - don't you?

I can see your nipples harden. I enjoy that...you take a step towards me and I push you back into your corner. I didn't say you could move did I? ... I grab your wrists and throw them over your head and up against the wall. With my other hand I wrap the chain around you, encircling your body. The cool links tighten around your thighs and as I reach your neck I tug hard pulling the chain up into your cunt. The shock pulls you off balance. I step back and let you exhibit yourself.

Having fun so far? Your dripping cunt is telling me something that you don't seem to want to admit. 

I move in closer to examine you and you feel the pressure of my fingers through the thin fabric of your dress as I trace the lines I ripped into you last night. You flinch as my nails scrape across your skin. You feel my fingers trace the marks under your dress that tell the world that you belong to me. My breath is hot on the skin of your neck. 

You try to touch my skin. I slap your hands away.

Keep your hands to yourself.

I kneel down and breathe in the heat of your delicious pussy. 

In my mind I bury my face between your legs and suck the ecstasy out of you. I want to feel you dripping all over my face and riding my mouth the way you furiously ride my cock. I hold down your feet so your legs are spread and your cunt is gaping for me. I move my mouth up and down your legs, slowly moving closer and closer to your swollen clit. You struggle to retain control, but I have your pussy right where I want it - inches away from my mouth. You can feel my breath warm you in the cold air. I dig my teeth into your thigh. You scream. 

Suddenly, I jump up. Swing you around with one hand latched onto your breasts the other between your ass cheeks. I straddle your side with my body. I move my face to your ear. You know what I am telling you. The precious seconds of my breath in your ear gives you a momentary respite from the the onslaught that has barely even started. My hand whips back and lands furiously on your ass. You feel the heat of your pain coarse through your body and out of your mouth and you cry out. I kiss your neck and your ears tenderly as I rail on your behind again and again. With my body sweaty I release myself from you and take a step back. 

I smile. Your face is flushed. Your ass cheeks are red and glowing. Your body is glistening with sweat. Your nipples firm and sensitive. Your eyes look over your shoulder and long for the bulge that is growing in my pants. I move towards you again and take your face in my hands and looking you in the eyes I bring my lips to yours and my tongue rushes into your mouth. After moments our lips part. You are ready.

As you reach for my lips a second time a fury fills me and I grab you by the hair. Your limp body trails behind me into the kitchen and I throw you on to the table. 

Your back hits the stiff wood with a thud and I can hear your breath escape unwillingly from your chest. I rip your legs open and wrap my fingers around your ankles. Your joints twist and your body fights against me as I pin your legs to the table legs. You lean up to hold my face and beg me to stop, but your pleas are lost, muffled by hands that force you away from me. 

As you recover from the last onslaught I chain your legs to my table. The table groans as I lash you to the wooden frame. You can feel the cool wood dig into you tender flesh and the links of the chain binding you - wrapping up your legs around your thighs and spreading your cunt open. With a jerk the metal digs into your body. You feel the pain throughout and I marvel as my power pulses through your body. 

I circle around and force your head down over the other end of the table and you feel all your blood rush into your mind forcing your perception on to your throbbing cunt. I bind your hands to the opposite table legs. The chain is heaving your limbs apart and your taxed body struggles against the confines. Your back arches trying to escape but the prison of my table is secure and you wither into a limp figure. 

I admire my handiwork as I stand over you, before I step forward and my legs straddle your face. I lower myself on to your mouth and I let you taste my balls. Out of the corner of your eyes you see me begin to slowly stroke my shaft. And I begin to stroke faster. And grind my self into you. I tell you to keep smothering my balls with your mouth as I press my thighs against your head. 

You feel me reach over you and grab your knees with my hands and feel your skin as I move up your body and rest on your nipples.

Suddenly, you feel the brush of metal on your neck and you jump. You better hold still. You're going to regret it otherwise. My legs back off of you and using a cool blade I open your lips and pry your mouth open. The metal is hard against your teeth, but you open up and I slide my dick into your mouth. 

Your breath sputters as I run my cock up and down your throat.

I slide the fat side of the blade down your neck to the top of your dress. 

I pull your dress taught with the edge of knife, pulling your body with it as I slowly fuck your face.

With out warning the fabric gives in to the edge of the metal and tears apart one fiber at a time. I slide the blade down your body inch by inch. As your body lifts free from the pressure of your dress, my dick fills your throat inch by inch in unison. 

When I get to the end of your dress I rest the cool blade on your inflamed cunt. Slowly I apply pressure. You try to move, but you know that you can't afford to. Instead you whimper. I stop moving and in the silence you can feel the beat of my heart in your mouth as my cock fills your face. I feel your breath on my balls and the flat edge of the knife that's pressed against your clit is fogging up from your heat. 

I slide my cock out and begin to stroke. You look up hungrily and I see the disappointment in your eyes. You're straining against your bonds trying to reach me. I lean over you and explode all over your body. From your chin to your clit you feel me spray you endlessly. My cum is a welcome relief compared to the the bondage of the gritty chains. 

But, this is just the beginning. I whip the knife against the wall and the blade impales the wall opposite your cunt. The room shakes with the impact. 

I shove my dick in your mouth for you to clean me off. You can feel my cum pooling in the crevices of your body as I circle back around and kneel in front of your desperate cunt. I can see you staining the table with your cum, so I run my tongue from your ass to your clit to clean you up.

You writhe against the chain and plead with me. Keep writhing, I tell you. 

"I don't think your tongue can keep up with how wet I am," you stutter pathetically.

You leave that to me. Feel my tongue travel delicately over your cunt. 

I stand up and your head cranes to watch me. I rub my hand over your body to grab my cum to wet my cock. I rest my cock on your cunt and rub my shaft along your slit. 

My cum has become a part of your skin. I take a candle and start to drop wax on your body. With each drip your body spasms and inches closer to enveloping my cock. You feel the heat as the wax mixes with my cum on your skin and I begin to drown your nipples in liquid fire.

I slam myself into your cunt.

Your skin ignites.

The table rocks with my thrusts.

My cock expands inside of you.

You thrust your hips against me with all your force bringing the table with you as your legs strain against the confines of the chains. There's nothing you can do when my fingers curl around your neck and I demand you beg for my cum.

It's time for you to do your job, and I'll do mine. I'll fuck your body into it's end. Because my cock is ready for you and full of cum and I need you. My hands slip on your cum and wax covered hips as I thrash against my body. I dig my nails into your skin so that I can push you on to me.

And with a final heave I empty myself into you. As if electrified my body stiffens and then I collapse on top of you. You're drowning in a pool of our cum as I gasp for shallow breathes.

I look up from your chest to see you looking down at me and I hurriedly begin to free you. My hands tremble as I remove the chains and release you. I pick up your weak body and carry you to my bed and lay you down gently. I peel away your tattered clothes and press a warm cloth to your skin. You quiver as the water washes over you and I begin to clean your fragile flesh. When I've mopped up all the cum and wax I rub coconut oil on your raw skin to heal you. 

I lie down next to you. You gently wrap one hand around my neck and pull your face towards mine.

I am yours now. I tell you, you have expended me. 

You softly press your lips to my cheek and then my forehead and then my lips.

Your hand strokes my hair and pulls my head against your chest.

My breath slows to match yours. 

I curl up against you and beg you to forgive me.

For what? you whisper.



Demons and Angels Pt. 01



Daniel felt the hunger eating at his dark soul. It was the same hunger that had pounded inside of him for almost a thousand years. Never-ending hunger. Because unlike the weak humans that shoved and pushed all around him to the pounding rhythm of the music, hunger could not kill him. Starvation brought only pain; it could not gift him with the blessed release of death. Few things truly could. 

But it was not just the hunger that ate at his soul, if he still possessed such a thing. It was loneliness. He tried to remember a time when he last had companionship. Companionship, not friendship and certainly not the unattainable love that he felt for his wife many lifetimes ago. No, just simple companionship. Someone intelligent to converse with. 

This modern world was becoming increasingly insipid and shallow. He watched as all around, half-dressed women gyrated and pulsed to pounding beats that would once have been a cry to war. He scanned the thoughts of those closest to him. His face contorted into a scowl of disgust. All these lowly creatures thought of was their physical appearance, material gain and copulation. 

Certainly he could offer the vipers ample rewards in all three. Despite his ancient heart that hungered for a meaningful conversation, his physical appearance remained as pleasing as it had a millennia ago. That time when he would have and did trade his soul for vengeance. As for money, it was easy enough to collect silver, gold, land and all other means of exchange...when you had unlimited power and immortality. As for copulation, sex, that had become a favored means of filling the gapping void that must have once been his soul. 

Daniel shook his dark head in disgust. This night like all the others he was not going to find what he sought. He knew that it was an elusive gift, more rare than a four-leaf clover, more precious to him than the Holy Grail to the Mother Church. He sought the impossible. A mate. A true mate. Someone that might see into the black hole of his heart but rather than be afraid would feel true compassion. Someone who could knit these tattered threads of humanity back together. It was a precious gift that had eluded him over the centuries. A gift that always eluded his kind. For who would wish to give their life to save one of his kind...a vampire.

***

Rahab walked the neon lighted streets of Hollywood. Women, and others, called out to her. Ran to offer her hugs. She spoke with each of them. Asking about their health, their children and as they knew she would, did they need anything. In each face, she saw her baby sister's. The familiar heaviness settled around her heart, just as it always did when she thought about the loss. 

Twenty years, had it really been twenty years? It felt like only yesterday when she and her parents had stood next to the packed car, laughing and crying with the blonde beauty. She was going to be a star. In Hollywood. Everyone in their small Texas town had always said that was where someone as beautiful as Mindy belonged. So now that she was eighteen and had graduated high school she was off for those neon lights. 

Rahab swiped the moisture from her eyes with the back of her hand. She had a job to do this night as she did all others. She was here to care for the needy, the forgotten, the lost...without questions. Because she would not allow one lost soul to slip through the cracks the way that her beloved sister had. It was more than a job for her...it was a mission.

Her heart stopped when she saw little Jodi talking to the tall, dark stranger. Rahab cared for everyone that came into her life, regardless of their past, or present. But Jodi was special. In the two decades since Rahab had identified her baby sister's body at the morgue, beaten, raped and strangled by a serial killer, no one had touched her heart the way Jodi did. The girl reminded her of Mindy in almost everyway from her blonde curls to her smiling eyes. 

Rahab excused herself from the older transgender lady of the night as she called them. She walked towards the alley where Jodi was conversing with the man. Rahab could not see his face, maybe that was what bothered her? The fact that she did not know this man. 

Over the years, she had gotten to know as many of the Johns, customers as she did her ladies. Sometimes their stories were as sad or sadder even than her girls. Lonely men mostly, some married even. Having forsaken marriage and even love in order to fulfill her mission she could not understand how that was possible. Those saddened her the most...to be alone and married. It seemed oxymoronic. 

As she approached them, she plastered a smile onto her face. She did not want to give Jodi or the man any cause for alarm. She studied him in particular. He was tall, broad shouldered, perhaps not quite as old as her forty-three, but in that ball park probably. He had a baring about him. Military perhaps? Trained and tutored killer for certain. She could feel the blood upon his hands. Stains upon his soul. But there was something more there. An emptiness that she knew personally. A loneliness that called to her. 

Rahab had never questioned her gift. For as long as she could remember she could see into the souls of man. The good, the bad and in her time upon these dirty streets with pain and sorrow on as many of squares as there were names, foot and hand prints...the ugly. Hollywood could be a very ugly place. Even when you were as beautiful as Mindy and Jodi.

"Rahab," the young girl called out to her in welcome. 

The man turned towards her and her breathe caught in her throat. Beautiful. It was not a word for such masculine pulchritude but there was no other sufficient. There was something ancient, other worldly about him. Although death and violence hung like a second skin from his features so too did chivalry. The man was a warrior, stained with the blood of many, tormented beyond all measure by the things that he had done just to survive. Rahab cocked her head and almost sniffed the air as if to be certain. Then in the end she made her pronouncement, 'But not a killer,' she thought.

***

'Not a killer?' Daniel laughed as the woman approached. How dare she? Did she not know who...what...he was? Would always be. 

He turned from the younger, more beautiful woman to study the new arrival. His face contorted. Her face was bare of the artifice favored by modern women and especially these types of creatures who had been his favorite prey over the years. He was after all doing them a favor. Cutting short a life of pain, degradation and most likely addiction. But this one was different. Not only did she not use paints to hide her plainness but her lush curves were decidedly out of place among these emaciated peers. He frowned as he studied her more carefully.

"Hello Jodi, I was just making the rounds. Checking on everyone," he clear blue eyes, perhaps the only thing that was truly remarkable about her, scanned him from head to toe and back again. Their gazes met and where others would look away, she stared into the depths of his dark soul. "I don't believe I know you. I'm Rahab," she said as she extended a hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong for a woman. "Are you a visitor to Hollywood or just moved here?" she inquired.

His frown deepened. She clearly did not belong. Yet she acted as if she owned these vile streets. He watched the silent interplay between the women. The young ones eyes pleaded with her to leave them to their business. But it was clear from her protective stance placing herself between him and the girl that she had no intention of honoring that plea. And honestly, he did not want her too. Suddenly his interest in the younger woman's pain and suffering had been diverted by the new arrival.

"Jodi, I need your help tonight," she smiled as she physically turned the woman away from him. The young one opened her mouth perhaps to protest but before she could his new interest pulled a handful of green papers from the pockets of those too tight and uncomfortable looking pants called jeans. Women did not belong in such garments. It was indecent. He wished for the long dresses of centuries past. Even the ones with necklines way too low for decency would be better than these things that hugged a woman's curves, revealing far more than they covered.

Still the younger woman meant to protest. He could see it in her eyes. Why was she so eager to go with one such as he? Could she not see his darkness, even as her friend did? Did he not stink of death and pain? Or perhaps the bright lights here did strange things to his features? Making him appear as he once had. It certainly seemed that even the mature one did not recognize him fully for what he was. A killer.

She pulled more of the green papers from her pocket until the younger woman could not look away. She turned to him and studied him again for a long moment before smiling. "Jodi, listen to me. Please!" He could hear the hurt, fear and pain dripping from every word, "Take this. Take it all. Give Gary his portion. Then I want you to go to this place. Tell the sisters there that I sent you. They will take you in, care for you and see that you are safe."

The younger woman started to shake her head but the elder would not be dissuaded. "Please, Jodi. Please," she begged as he noticed tears gathering in those eyes. Perhaps she was coming to see him for what he truly was after all?

The tug of war continued for a couple more moments as the women conversed in shushed whispers. He leaned casually against the dirty brick building. He studied the older woman as she pleaded. Beyond the plainness of her physical appearance he could not deny the passion with which she sought to protect her young charge.

But there was something else too. What was it? He wondered as the young one opened the large bag at her side and stuffed the green notes that he knew was currency in this land into it. She turned to him and shrugged, "Sorry, pal, but I'm sure a looker like you won't have any trouble finding someone else. Your type never does."

He bowed low as was more ancient custom, ones still most natural to him. "Perhaps another time." He smiled as she scurried off like one of rats among the stinky refuse of this place. Its belly full taking to its hiding place. 

He turned his attention to the other woman. Honestly, it was she who had held his attention these last moments anyway. There were so many things about her that did not make sense. "Listen, I am sure you are a decent guy and all. But Jodi is special to me. Like she said, I'm sure you can find someone else."

"Oh, but I already have," he said, letting his eyes travel up and down her curves once more.

The woman laughed. She had the effrontery to actually laugh at him. He thought for a moment that she would not stop, the merry tinkle echoed so loudly in the corridor. She actually bent at the waist and wrapped an arm about herself for a long moment. Finally she righted herself and met his gaze once more.

"Listen, sugar, I think you are mistaken. I am no lady of evening. I just sort of take care of them, help out where I can. Get girls like Jodi off the street when I can. So afraid you are out of luck with me." She waved her hand about, "But there are plenty others for you to choose from. So have fun. And be safe. You do have condoms, right? Always use condoms." She reached into another of those pockets and pulled out square foil packets. 

He reached across the divide and placed his hand over hers. "I am sorry you misunderstood. I have no interest in...that." He tried to smile but found it almost painful. Those facial muscles were tight from disuse. "I merely sought companionship. Coffee, I believe is the custom. And to talk with you."

***

Rahab looked down at his hand covering hers. Her whole body was alive as if electrical current raced through every cell. She had never felt like this. Never. Well past even the forty-year old virgin jokes. His words began to register and she colored with embarrassment. Of course, a man like this had no interest in her...in that way. Why would he?

She had always been the smart one. Mindy was the pretty one. She had been almost finished with her first year school when her sister went missing. It had not mattered. She had come along with her parents to this place to find her. But even after they went back to Texas, broken hearted at the news of what their beloved baby girl had become, done to earn her living in this place, she had stayed. 

She had transferred to law school here. Her days filled with classes. Her nights spent on these streets seeking any word of her baby sister. She had won the trust of these jaded women. She had gotten information from them that the police had not. And when that fateful day came when they finally found the body of her little sister, she was in too deep. If she could no longer save Mindy, there were others she might. Others like Jodi. 

If along the way, she had forsaken love, marriage and family in her single-minded pursuit of her mission, what of it? How many of her friends were on their second, sometimes even third, husband by now? No, love was an illusion. A pipe dream for the weak, she promised herself as she shook her head. "Sorry, I have court tomorrow. I need to get home to bed now that I am done here. I am sorry if I spoiled your evening, but like I said I have been trying to get Jodi off these streets for weeks." 

She was not about to tell him that she had practically cleared out her inheritance from her parents to pay the girl off. Bribe her as it were. She smiled, but she knew her folks would think it was money well spent. 

She turned to leave, "Good luck finding what you seek." She wanted to put as much distance as she could between her and this man. He was sending off pain like waves of a tsunami. It threatened to pull her down until she too drowned in his pain and hunger. She had made a career of defending the innocent. Her gifts helped her to see beyond the facts to the heart of the matter. She considered her earlier assessment. 

This man was dangerous. Perhaps the most dangerous that she had ever met. Death. Violence. Pain. Loneliness. Isolation. All of them were written into his heart. But so too was honor. She knew somehow that she was safe from all of that...with him. 

But that did not make her want to stay. No, her best bet was to run from this place. Get as far from him as possible. Now that Jodi was safe perhaps she would even stay away from this painful reminder of the past for awhile. But she doubted that. There were always more Jodi's...more Mindy's.

Despair...whether hers or his drug her down. "I need to be going," she croaked as she turned to run.

***

"No," he cried out as his hand encircled her upper arm. It had been centuries, many lifetimes since he had met one such as she. The purity of her heart shone so brightly that for a moment it dispelled the darkness even in his soul. He did not want to surrender that back to the darkness. Not just yet anyway.

He softened his touch, knowing that he could not, would not force this one to will. Even if he could...and he was not totally certain that he could this time. This one was special. He felt it. He just knew it somehow. 

"Please. I am Daniel," he said as he held out his hand. "I'm new in Hollywood. I do not know anyone and I just want some company. Someone to talk to," he half lied, half pleaded.

He could see the indecision upon the woman's face. He tried those stiff facial muscles once more. He hoped that he managed at least a half hearted smile this time. "One cup of coffee and few moments of friendly conversation. Please that is all I ask."

He waited. And waited. He feared deep in the darkness that always threatened to consume him that this woman would turn him away, run away was more likely. Take what tiny flickering light of hope remained in his darkness and run as far and fast as she could from him. And some tiny noble part of him that remained hoped that was exactly what she did. 

He did not deserve hope. His soul was much too dark for even a tiny flicker of her light. But he did not care...he wanted...no, he needed it anyway. So he held out his hand and awaited her pronouncement of his fate. Light or eternal darkness, somehow Daniel knew that this woman held the final judgement in her hands and heart. 

Nonetheless, hope soared to life when she finally placed her hand in his. She nodded her head and smiled. "One cup of coffee. That is it." 

He nodded as he led her out of the alley and down the brightly lite streets of this city of dreams. This city of angels was filled with demons and he was chief among them. But for this tiniest of moments he would forget that and be the man he had once been...eons ago.



Demons and Angels Pt. 02



Rahab led the man, Daniel, if that really was his name, to a booth in the back of the packed diner just off of Sunset Boulevard. She still was not certain what she was doing here...with him. Her almost nightly vigil to the dark side was finished by all right she should slink back to the cubby hole that she called an apartment. She had too many cases right now including a death penalty one. She needed her rest. Yet here she was with a man she did not know.

At least she knew why. There was something in the man's eyes. Some pain, so deep and dark, that it threatened to swallow him whole. And as dark and seemingly all-consuming as that stain was, there was also good in him. She could feel that, just as she could feel when her clients were telling her the truth. She always knew the guilty from the innocent. And this man was both.

"Why?" was the single word that the man whispered as the waitress seated them in the booth. The torn plastic seat made more noise than he when he said it. 

Nonetheless to her ear's it was as if he screamed it. It was another of things that had always been different about her. She felt heard, saw, smelled things that others could not. It had been that way for as long as she could remember. It was her gift. And her curse.

She thought about pretending not to hear but something about this man told her that would do no good. He was not the type to just let something drop. Like her once he made a decision, he followed through upon it. "Why what?" she asked more casually than she felt as she hid behind the stained laminated menu. She prayed the waitress would be here quickly. This could be the longest cup of coffee of her life. And something screamed at her...the most important.

***

Daniel watched the woman. Her emotions played upon her face like a Shakespearean tragedy. She did not want to be here. Did not want to be with him. It was an emotion that he was very familiar with. Few people did. 

But they came anyway. Money and power bought you many friends. He chuckled self-deprecatingly. He had no friends. He had not had any in centuries, eons, eternity it seemed. He had hangers-on, minions, at best acquaintances who sought what gain they could find by knowing a man like him. While he did the same. And when it was no longer profitable for either, they simply disappeared. It had become the way of this modern world. He frowned, may hap it had always been that way?

He would think upon that later. The days were long this time of year, and getting longer. He would have hours upon hours when he was locked inside the earth to ponder that question and the million others that tortured his ancient soul. But for now, only one mattered.

"Why do you do it? You are not like them," he sniffed the air. Innocence clung like a cloak to her of this he was certain. 

He saw her stiffen, knew that he had deeply offended her. His very existence was offensive so why should it matter so fucking much if he offended one tiny human woman? Because she is different, cried what tiny shred of a soul remained inside of him. But that too must wait, she was speaking now.

"Different from the whores, prostitutes and drug addicts you mean?" Her eyes almost blazed as they stared past him and through his withered soul it felt like. 

But she did not give him time to reply. "It never fails to turn my stomach. We think we are this great country. This Christian nation. We wrap ourselves in the flag and apple pie. And all the while we turn our backs on those who need us. The poor. The lonely..."

It was a speech that probably would have gone on forever now that he had her heckles up if not for the approach of the waitress. "What can I get you folks?" It was so late and the woman was so tired that not even the appeal of a tip could force a smile upon her dour face. 

The woman's body was still tense but she did manage to force a smile for benefit of the waitress, "Just coffee. Thank you."

He looked at the woman's tightly pursed lips. He did not need to read her mind to know that she not pleased. More bums to take up seats, keep her on her feet and leave little to nothing beyond the buck price of weak coffee. Perhaps even to pilfer extra packages of the sugar or salt even. 

He took a hundred dollar bill that he had planned to use to lure his victim to him and laid it upon the table. "Just water for me," his voice deepened as he looked at her, "but this should cover it."

A genuine smile spread across the woman's face as she hastened to do his bidding. Money had its uses. 

"You placed words upon my lips. I did not disparage your friends." He shrugged and looked out the window at the busy street. Dawn was but a couple of hours away, but still these dirty streets buzzed with activity. "We are all whores," he muttered as the waitress brought her cup of coffee. The woman started to say something else but he waved her away.

"That was not the differences I was speaking of." He captured her gaze and held it for a long moment. It was cute the way that she worried her lower lip with her teeth. A vague memory scampered across the dark corners of his memory and then like a tiny mouse it was gone before he could capture it.

"Your differences come from within. From your soul that is light to this darkness." To my darkness he wanted to scream. 

He shook the feeling off. It would get him nowhere. It never did. He had made his choice all those millennia ago when death came to call for him and he escaped her clutches. Now he would welcome her like a lover or mother. But she kept far from his paths, following at a distance. 

***

Rahab picked up the steaming cup of coffee and blew across its surface. She watched concentric circles feather out from where her breath hit its surface. She tried to clear her mind by focusing upon them and only them. This man confused her on so many levels. Death hung to him like an ancient armor. Yet at the same time she felt a depth of soul and purpose like unto her own. She could not reconcile the two. She shook her head as she brought the cup to her lips. The hot liquid scalded her tongue and throat. It was a welcome distraction from the puzzle. 

To make matters worse, she was tired. So fucking tired. Over the past few weeks, her normally hectic schedule of public defender and part-time savior for prostitutes had been catching up to her. Sure, she was no longer a spring chicken as her mama would have said. But at forty-three neither should she be falling apart. Between the exhaustion and migraine headaches that were coming with increasing frequency, she knew she should schedule an appointment with her doctor, but who had time? Some niggling little voice added...and some things were best not known.

But Rahab had spent a lifetime knowing things she should not know. Tears blurred her vision as that thought brought her back to this man's question. She had always been different. One of her earliest memories was of Old Man Ledbetter. She had seen the darkness inside of the man that everyone else thought a kindly if eccentric old man. But she had known...known the man was a killer. Of course, no one would listen to a five year old, who claimed to know why women kept going missing. 

Of course when one woman escaped, rising the cry that brought the sheriff and law to Old Man Ledbetter's backdoor, the whole town started to talk about the little girl who had known. Eventually they had discovered a dozen bodies buried on his property. But Rahab knew there were more. Bodies across the state and country that authorities would never connect to the man. When she started school, she had quickly earned the name teacher's pet and snitch. Whether it was pulled hair, spitballs or missing books, she always knew the culprit...and she always told. 

Eventually her mama had quietly spoken to her about it. She never really understood or believed that her oldest daughter 'just knew' things that it was impossible to know. But she had convinced the child not to tattle as she called it. But guilt of knowing and not telling was a powerful burden for one so young to bear. 

She had born that burden for a lifetime now. Maybe that was why she was so tired? She shook her head as she sat the empty cup back on the table. What was the use? She was not going to share the truth of this burden with a stranger. A man she had just met...especially not one shadowed by death and sin. If her own mama had not believed her, why would he? Why would anyone?

"Thank you for the coffee but I really should get going. It is late and I have work tomorrow," she ignored his question as she extended her hand across the table. 

When he took it, the world swam about her. A thousand bright stars sped by. She felt herself float through them at the speed of light. The American West ripe with grain and war cries. Elizabethan England with bright clothes, parties and intrigue. But it was the crusades, knights in shining armor upon which she stopped. 

He sat upon a black horse, a steed was the only word for it. The heat was overpowering. Yet he wore layer upon layer of clothes and heavy metal. It weighed upon his shoulders as heavily as the burden of the lives of the men around him. They fell like flies all around him. Cut down one by one by sickles and swords. Their enemy moved with speed they could not, weighed down as they were. The enemy too had the advantage of fear...deep and abiding fear for their loved ones. It was a home field advantage of sorts. They were prepared to fight to the death for their land, their families...their god. 

She watched him as he fell. His horse cut from beneath him. He landed with a thud that knocked the wind from him. But immediately he rose. Somehow he found the strength, the will to lift the heavy blade above his head. It sang through the air in a perfect arc, cutting deep into human flesh. Limbs flew, heads too. He moved forward, red fires of hell glistening in his eyes. Until the darkness swallowed her...

***

"Shit," he cursed as he moved with preternatural speed to catch her. "Fuck," added as the waitress rushed to their table.

"What happened?" her eyes were wide with shock and fear. "Is she all right? Should I call nine-one-one or something?"

Daniel felt I all slipping away. The woman. His last chance. If the ambulance and police came, they would take her from him. He was not family, a stranger even. He would have no right to go with her. No other chance to find the answers which he sought. The salvation that was probably nothing more than a dream anyway. 

As always he fought back fear and panic. He shook his head and forced a smile as he lied, "Nothing to worry about. My wife just fainted." The waitress screwed up her face at him, ready with a dozen more questions, but he pre-empted them all. "This is a bit of a rough pregnancy." The words were a knife to his own heart. He sent a silent prayer begging forgiveness towards the heavens. Even though he knew he neither deserved or would get it. That time had long since passed.

The woman's whole body relaxed and a big smile spread across her face, "Why didn't you say so, sugar? Pregnant women need lots more than hot coffee to keep them going. You should know that, daddy. Let me get her a piece of apple pie. It ain't homemade or nothing but it will give her a bit of energy. Then once she feels a bit better, we can get something more substantial into her. Red meat...or liver maybe. That is probably her problem. Anemia...low iron in her blood. Just leave it all to me," she prattled on.  

Daniel shook his head as he lifted her in his arms. She weighed next to nothing. The meal that the woman spoke of would probably do her good, but he did not want an audience when she came around. He did not want to be caught in the lie. And he had no doubt that when she awoke it would be with fire and fight. 

He smiled down at her at that thought. How like her she was? Willing to do anything, fight anyone for what she believed was right. Over the centuries it was a quality that he had found surprisingly lacking in humanity. True goodness and purity of heart was a rare thing. A gift not to be taken for granted. 

"Thank you but I think I should get her to bed. Let her rest," he lied again. Lies came easily now, too easily perhaps. But many lifetimes of practice had overcome any initial reluctance. Expediency was the goal...and if lying got him what he wanted faster and easier then it was a simple enough thing to do. 

The woman started to protest but he simply shook his head and pushed past her with his bundle in his arms. When he wanted something, he would not be deterred by anything or anyone. The ends always justified the means. He had staked everything upon that premise...long long long ago. 

He inhaled the rich night air as he burst through the door. That was another of the differences between them. He belonged in the darkness, where things were easily concealed. Lies were mere conveniences. Sins but momentary dreams. 

She was light itself. Truth. Tomorrow...yes, tomorrow. She would have many questions to answer then. More lies to tell. But for tonight, for this moment, he would simply enjoy the feeling of her weight in his arms. Tomorrow always came too quickly. Even as eternity dragged endlessly onward.

***

Rahab came awake in the darkness. She was thankful for it. The pounding in her head was almost unbearable. Another migraine. How many was that this month? Except this one was worse than any of the others had been. And that was saying something. 

She rolled to the side as a wave of nausea overtook her. A gentle arm wrapped about her as her body shook with dry heaves. Between the pain and sickness, she did not have the energy to question it. She did not have the energy to question anything these days. 

When it finally passed she collapsed into the strong arms that drew her gently into a comforting embrace. A cool hand brushed hair back from her heated flesh. She sighed as she tried to place who it was. 

Mama had never been this strong. And Papa would never be the one to nurse her. But she was not a little girl anymore and Mama and Papa were gone. Long since long. Along with her beloved sister, Mindy. She had no one now. She had had no one for close to twenty years. Her sister murdered by a serial killer. Her parents so distraught that they mourned themselves to death. Their death certificates might say cancer and stroke, but she knew the truth. They died of a broken heart.

She would have followed them too. Except she had a mission...to find the man that did this to them. And find him she had but not even that brought the peace she had hoped. Not her career as the star of the Los Angeles county Public Defenders office. Not even her work with the prostitutes along Hollywood and Vine brought her the solace she craved.

So why did she feel it now? Because despite the pain, there was a calm quiet in this moment, in these arms that stilled her troubled soul like nothing ever had in this lifetime. She tried to turn, but his hypnotic voice washed over her, "Lie still," as his fingers brushed softly at her face.

She sought through her memories. Tried desperately to place that voice. Who was this man? Where was she? The soft plushness that enveloped her was nothing like her utilitarian mattress and sheets. Silk...it felt like silk. Or was that his warm, spicy skin beneath her cheek? Where was she? And how had she gotten here?

She fought trough the fog of the pain in her head. She remembered leaving the office late. It was pay day. At lunch time, she had paid all her bills, carefully factored how much she would need for food and gas for the rest of the month. Then she had withdrawn the rest. She would give it to Jodi. Convince the young girl to go home...or even to a shelter. Anywhere but the dangerous streets of Hollywood. 

Jodi, her heart cried out. The girl was so much like Mindy. She had touched her in a way that none of the others had. Called to her. Rahab knew just one thing...if she had not been able to save Mindy, she must find a way to save Jodi. Life rarely gave you second chances but that was what this felt like...a second chance to save her baby sister.

She swam through the darkness. She had taken it too. She had found the girl. She was talking to a dark man. He was beautiful. Too beautiful. Inhumanly beautiful. Was he some Hollywood star? Rahab rarely went to movies and she did not own a television. Besides work and her mission, she had only books to keep her company. Mayhap he was one of the male models on the covers of her spicy erotic romances? He certainly had the look.

Except that there was a darkness in him too...something that went much deeper than the color of his hair and eyes. A killer. This man had the feel of blood upon his hands. A cold and calculating killer. 

But not. That was what had confused her. That he had murdered...many times over even...was no doubt. But it was the other...the need and pain that she felt beneath all that which had forced her to accede to his request.

Coffee! They had gone for coffee at a diner she knew. After she had given Jodi the money, convinced the girl to seek shelter with the sisters who ran a mission to help prostitutes get out of the lifestyle. Jodi was safe, she sighed.

She felt a warm soft caress of lips against her heated brow. She forced her mind back to what she did not want to face. They had gone for coffee. His question. Different. But she had always been different. 

But this was different even from her different. She had touched him. Then...

"No," she cried out as she began to fight and push at him. She had to get away. Far away from this man. 

"Peace be still," came the quiet voice as he wrapped her tighter in his arms. It made no sense. None of it made sense. As the blackness swallowed her again.



Demons and Witches



Hey Literotica! I hope you enjoy reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it!





Demons and Witches



Marcus was lost in the mist behind her and Evelynn could faintly hear, over the silent roar of the wind in her ears, muted shrieks and screams. She imagined the worst, picturing Marcus being slowly torn apart by the inhuman creatures, and the thought stabbed her deep in the guts, almost driving her to the ground as her eyes blurred with hot, unwanted tears.

Oh god, Marcus. No! Evelynn cried out in her head as she finally rounded the final soft turn of the path and spotted the bright street entrance they had entered only minutes ago. As she blinked at her stinging tears, Evelynn became painfully aware of how heavy and deadened her limbs felt, running as she was on buttered movie theater popcorn, liquid sugar, and a terrifying flood of adrenaline. Evelynn had been a shining star on her high school's track team at one time, but she still couldn't manage to pull away from her pursuer.

This was like her worst nightmares, running through a spooky, misty, moonlit forest, unable to outrun the monsters behind her no matter how hard she tried. This was no dream however, and she could tell by the shooting pain in her feet, the cool mist condensing and collecting on her face, and the heart stopping terror surging through her veins that would have woken her up screaming long ago.

As she glimpsed the salvation of the street, Evelynn cried out in horror as a ghostly apparition, a tall cloaked figure seemingly twice her height, materialized out of the fog directly in front of her. Time slowed to a crawl and passed in a heartbeat as her tired feet faltered, stuttering on the pavement, unsure of what direction to take. A thick coppery smell of rotting blood wafted towards Evelynn and she screamed as she glimpsed a gleaming, polished white skull grinning at her through empty black sockets underneath the hood.

The ethereal, shadowy form slowly opened its arms, preparing to receive her.

Long, dangerous talons, glittering with scarlet droplets, slowly unfolded towards Evelynn and she only just managed not to choke in terror as she was forced to make a quick decision. Try to juke past the monster blocking her exit, turn around and somehow manage to evade the strange pack of creatures somewhere behind her, or take her chances dodging into the tree line and make her way out from there.

Not much of a choice when you considered it.

Evelynn quickly banked to the left and yelped as she felt the creature pursuing her blast past where she had been standing a moment ago. Evidently, her pursuer was terrible at turns. Evelynn's feet quickly left the pavement, and the delicate pale skin of her arms only avoided being torn to shreds by the thorny, barbed branches of the trees that seemed to grasp and pull at her like fingers, due to the coat she wore. Evelynn hardly noticed as strands of her hair were painfully plucked away as she covered her face with her arms, trying to protect herself even as her slim legs were bloodied and scratched as she bounded and stumbled into the darkness. Strange, muffled noises and the crashing sounds of pursuit sounded from somewhere close behind her.

The illuminating light of the full moon was blocked by the dense cluster of trees and she ran, nearly blind, into the pitch darkness of the forest. A horrible wet choking laughter vibrated in her ears in spite of the fog. The sound of a pleased hunter playing with it's food.

Evelynn ran for her life.



****





Demons and Witches



Marcus could feel the ravenous, hungry demon clawing inside of him, howling for blood, almost completely unhinged in its urge to lay waste to the entire forest for the sake of carnage and bloodshed.

Even if it was to kill another demon.

Especially if it was to kill another demon.

A straight up fight, under these circumstances and in the monster's territory, would be suicide. Marcus understood this, but the knowledge didn't make slinking away into the dark any easier.

Stubbornly fighting the overwhelming urge to give in and kill and slaughter those who had attacked him and almost murdered Evelynn, Marcus instead retreated quietly into the darkness of the woods. The darkness and the mist were no hindrance to his demon enhanced sight. Delicately, Marcus picked up Evelynn's limp body in his arms and carefully channelled a small amount of the fire burning inside of him to close her wounds and simply keep her alive and breathing. Once more, the demon crawling around in his mind sensed a moment of weakness and screamed at him, blotting out all other sound and thought completely, demanding that Marcus seek blood.

Focusing on his breathing, Marcus walked away ever so slowly, carrying Evelynn's limp, cold body in his arms, hunched and desperately tired. Silence followed them as the light of a beautiful young woman was quietly extinguished behind them.



****





Demon's Bane



Note from author: This story was completely inspired by the picture I found while surfing the net, looking for stuff, for the softer side of beasts web site. I'm not sure how it went from that picture into quite a lengthy story but here it is, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

*

Tyme

Demons bane

Part 1

Sara entered the Inn and realized with a quick look around, it was a hub for travelers of all kinds, mostly men. Some were seedy and unkempt, others fair and righteous, protecting their women from lewd advances. A woman alone there might come into trouble if she were not very careful. She toured the room further with her eyes, not daring yet to step into the active interior. It was busy and overwhelming; she had never had the gall to enter a place like this one and even her own father would never have frequented such a rudimentary establishment as this. 

She gazed down at herself, checking her attire and comparing it to the few women who sat close to the bar. They were hanging on to and draping themselves over the men, showing their interest in an obviously sensual manner, hoping perhaps to gain their attentions. Her own clothing far from feminine, she looked more like a man in the leather riding clothes her father insisted she wear. She was grateful she had heeded his words; perhaps the men in the room wouldn't be drawn to her soft curves and womanly scent.

Crude heavy wooden tables and chairs dotted the room here and there; two fireplaces at either end at least warmed the place. There were lanterns at intervals along both sides of the walls, facing north and south a few pictures were scattered haphazardly, mostly depicting full-bodied voluptuous women.

Six men were seated at clumsy wooden stools placed around the counter of the bar. Two men were laughing loudly it was obvious by their hand gestures and vulgar statements that they were discussing some past encounter with a female.

Her eye caught movement in a dark corner and she hurriedly looked away; she didn't know they let such creatures into a place of men. It was a Wood Elf, and although she had never seen one, she knew what it was by the slight pointed ears and the dark brooding eyes. Her father had told her stories of the Elves, saying they were not to be trusted and she felt a small stab of fear.

She scanned the room franticly then, for a group of females that she might join until her escort arrived. The coach had brought her this far but could only come as far as the Inn before the driver had to turn around and carry passengers back to the small town she lived in. She had one small carpetbag and very little gold; the letter she had received from the school said she would need nothing but herself and a few clothes.

Sara Michael's was an innocent girl, just turning 21. She lived with her father only, a kind man who had always looked out for her welfare. He patiently raised his daughter, schooling her at home and keeping her from the ways of men. She did, though, have some experience, stealing a few hours here and there with a boy in the hayloft of her father's barn.

When she turned 21 her father, unable to keep her from wanting to experience more of life and more of boys, finally agreed to let her go to the distant town of Northbridge to cook and help school children. An ad that came in the form of a news sheet once a month to the little town of Lima where they resided, told of a need for a cook at a school and said there was a need for said person to help with studies. The ad was not completely clear but Sara made assumptions and convinced her father it was an enormous opportunity for a young woman just starting out. 

Two months later, after a short correspondence with the school by post, and also with a man hired to escort her, Sara's father hugged her tightly and saw his daughter off by way of coach.

He was deeply saddened to see her go, but knew in his heart she would have too find her own way and hoped his teachings would be enough to see her through life without mishap and danger. 

She had always been a strong-willed girl but shy and quiet outside her own surroundings. He was afraid for her safety and looked carefully into hiring a man of reputation to escort her to Northbridge; it would be a week of hard travel in a dangerous, wild country and he hired what he thought was the best man for the job.

She looked around the room not knowing what he looked like but he would know her by the riding apparel she wore and the red scarf around her neck. 

Sara Spotted three women at a table at the far end of the room near a fireplace and sighed with relief and tentatively went to see if she could sit with them. She edged her way to the table, head down, careful not to look in any man's eyes that she passed. Gratefully, she took a seat as one of the women, seeing her discomfort, patted the chair beside her.

"Are you alone, dear?" the first asked. The other two women looked at her without much interest and appeared as if they might work in the inn. Their dresses were of the sort she imagined were worn by women of the night. 

Conscious of her own attire she felt out of place in her riding clothes and wished she had thought to bring something more suitable for the busy inn. "I am alone and would be glad to sit here till my escort arrives. I've never been here and it's so full of activity," said Sara. Gwen nodded in agreement.

"Do you have a name, child? Mine is Gwen; this is Ruby and Stella." 

The older woman Gwen gave her shoulder a brief squeeze, attempting to put her more at ease. 

"I'm Sara pleased to meet you all." Gwen gave her a warm smile while the other two just nodded their heads in concord.

"What brings you here alone in this place dear?" Gwen asked.

"I'm to work at the town of Northbridge at the school there for young children."

"A teacher?"

"No, Ma'am, a cook. But I'm to help the children with classes as I'm able; I can read and write." She replied the pride showing on her face. 

The other two looked up at her, unmistakable envy on their faces. 

"Read and write? How did you learn?" asked Stella, her interest showing.

"'Twas my father that taught me," she said.

"Who's your escort, then?" asked Ruby

"His name is Matthew Landau; I've never met him, but he was hired by my father to take me to Northbridge." 

"Landau! Oh you're in for a treat girl! That man is known well by the woman around here," said Stella.

"What do you mean known well?" she asked, her voice giving away the concern she felt.

"Oh, don't worry, dear, he's hired by many travelers. He knows his way around the country...amongst other things. He'll get you safely where you're going," replied Ruby.

Stella and Ruby smiled wickedly, Gwen gave them a little kick each, under the table. Sara looked confused and hoped he was not some scoundrel.

"Pay no attention to them, dear. He has a good reputation; I'm sure your father looked carefully before deciding to hire him," said Gwen

"Oh, he does have a reputation alright, and he can park his boots anytime he likes under my bed," Stella laughed.

Sara's face turned red, understanding what they meant. Her experience with men was limited and the boy she had frolicked with in the barn had taken her virginity in a clumsy showing of his affection. Later she had been left with a feeling of dissatisfaction and wanted so much to feel the attentions of a real man, someone strong and gentle that knew how to please a lady in ways she could only dream off.

"Look, there's your man, now" said Ruby, indicating with an open hand. 

"He's looking a little rough today," Stella grinned. "I wonder what he's been up to."

Sara watched the man as he limped over to the bar; her attention was drawn to the blood streaks on his trousers and light spattering on his jacket sleeve. There was a smear on his face of what she thought must be dirt. Appalled that her father had chosen such an unrefined man to take her to Northbridge, she was tempted to run from the inn and take the coach back. 

She couldn't help but wonder if her father had actually met with this man or had hired him through some third party. He looked seedier then the men drinking at the bar and concern showed on her brow and spread to her mouth. She shrank down in her chair hoping he wouldn't spot the red scarf she wore to alert him to her presence, as arranged by her father.

Gwen caught her look of horror and tried to ease her mind. "Don't worry, dear. He's just been hunting or something; he doesn't normally look that disheveled. I'm sure he'll clean up a bit before you start out."

"Wait here; I'll go fetch him and introduce you," said Stella, with a wicked smile.

Sara waited at the table, her apprehension growing far more quickly then she liked. 

Stella sauntered to the bar, her hips swaying in a most provocative manner. Sara watched the two, carefully deriving information from the body language of the pair. He downed his drink and lightly pushed Stella away, clearly not wanting to be bothered. Stella flashed him a cold look and said something that made him glance in Sara's direction. 

He grinned and limped to where she sat. Her heart pounded in her chest, as her anxiety grew. 

His eyes were cold, steel-blue; sandy-colored hair, long and untrimmed, fell in a haphazard manner, covering part of his face. There were scars, one across his right cheek and another just below his chin running down to meet his thick neck. He was handsome in a rough sort of way, and it was obvious by his hands that he was used to extreme weather and hard work.

There was an air about him, something almost primal in nature, and she imagined he must be strong-tempered and wouldn't put up with any nonsense or whining behavior. She could see how a woman might be attracted to such a man, and how a wayward creature might run in fear of him. She decided then that he was not the type of man for her; she would prefer someone softer-tempered and gentle.

He held out his hand. "Afternoon, Miss, I'm Matt; pleased to meet you." There was disinterest clearly showing in his face, like he wanted nothing more to do with her. 

"Thank you, I'm Sara," she said, wanting to scream and run away but shook his hand instead. How would she ever get through a week with this man? He seemed not to care at all!

The three women at the table looked on, amusement showing on their faces. They knew Matthew Landau well and had had the pleasure of his company from time to time. His strong demanding manner had not fooled them, and Stella worked him anytime he came to the Inn. Flaunting her self—hoping for a few minutes alone with him in his room. 

"Miss if you will follow me, please? I have a room upstairs; you'll need to rest an hour or two before we leave. This is no fairytale adventure and there's no comfort on the way." His steel-blue eyes left no room for bargaining.

Abruptly he turned and indicated that she should follow him. Sara bewildered by his actions and coarse manner was now more nervous than ever. She looked at the three women and hoped that somehow they might help her. Did he really believe she would follow him to his room, without so much as a word? She couldn't see a way out of it. She threw her head back in a defiant gesture, hoping to make it clear she was not pleased, but did follow him.

"Good luck with your journey, dear," were the only words spoken by Gwen, as Sara followed him up the stairs. Her legs like rubber and hands shaking, her body following suit, wracked with a nervous twitch as they went up the stairs. Images of him ravaging her ran through her mind; she could almost feel his filthy body pressing her down on the bed and taking her in a most unpleasant manner. She really didn't need to rest and opened her mouth to say so, but it was too late—they were at his room.

Part Two

He opened the door to the room and with a sweep of his hand waved her in first. A gentleman's gesture, she thought. She couldn't help but notice that he did not smell pleasant as she passed him and hoped he would stay at a respectful distance. He gave her a brief look up and down her body and seemed to be completely uninterested in her womanly shape. In fact, he was looking instead for signs that she might be used to riding long distances or at the very least capable of coping with the outdoors for days at a time. 

Looking hard he saw no sign of hard work, no indication she might have spent time outdoors and his own concern grew at the small pale-skinned woman before him. Her body was lithe enough and quite shapely but lacked any sort of real muscle or hardness. She would have a rude awakening soon enough when the trail got tough. Without a word he reached for her bag and thew it down on floor and then peeled off his shirt, revealing a hard muscular chest and light colored hair that ran down to his belly.

Oh, the gall, she thought, unclothing right before her very eyes. She reaffirmed her suspicions that he was indeed some scoundrel and she would be forced to endure some hideous groping and pawing at her ripe flesh before he would take her and overpower her with his strength.

"I'm gonna get cleaned up down the hall; you lay down for awhile and rest," he said, as his pants came off.

Sara, totally dismayed, turned her head and covered her eyes; she feared his underthings would be next. How dare he take such liberties right in front of her! Her own father would never have done anything like this; the most she had ever seen of him was his bare chest when he was out in the fields.

"Don't worry, miss, your father hasn't paid for that," he mused and grinned at her. "My job is to see you safe at Northbridge and nothing more. Later we will go over the rules and expectations. Now lay down as you were told and rest."

He left the room, then—to clean up, she presumed—and she was left feeling more than a little confounded. He had not done any of those things her mind had conjured up and she was slightly disconcerted at his ambivalence.

She was too nervous to lie down and instead sat in the only chair the room provided and wished she were somewhere else. He had been so quick she hadn't even seen how bad the cut was, which she surmised must be on his leg, and wondered if he was in pain and if he could ride. She decided she didn't care and could be as indifferent as he had been with her.

The door opened and she leaped from her chair almost forgetting where she was. Entering his face showed his displeasure at her standing and not resting on the bed. 

She gasped at his leg and saw the red jagged line about four inches long just inside his left knee. He wore only a rough towel around his waist and she couldn't help but notice his forearms and thigh muscles were huge and obviously lean from hard work. The fresh scent of soap replaced the unpleasant odor from before. It wasn't proper to be undressed in front of a lady but he didn't seem to care and talked while opening a drawer and retrieving some clean clothes. 

"It's a long, long ride, Sara, and as I said, there are no comforting little inns like this on the way. The land is wild and dangerous. I expect nothing more than your complete obedience to what I say, when I say it; it will save us both a lot of trouble. Elves rule this part of the country and if you don't do as I tell you, you may find yourself in the company of creatures much less gentlemanly then me," he said, slipping undershorts in place under the towel.

"Do you understand? Can I expect your complete attention?" he asked, and while pulling on his trousers noticed she was looking at the cut on his leg. "To answer your question regarding my leg—it is only a scratch and will be healed shortly. It does not affect my ability to ride. If I were you, I would concentrate on your own tolerances and rest before we begin. Now, do we have an understanding?"

"Yes, I understand," was all she could muster. His hard manner told her to keep quiet and not question him.

"Good. With that out of the way, we can continue. The horses are being prepared; we leave in an hour. I'll return here then; spend the time as you wish," he said, buttoning his shirt. Pulling his socks and boots on he gave her a slight smile and again left the room.

His demeanor had her more than a little anxious and she wondered what sort of man he was, it was apparent that he was not the sort to fool around and had not even asked after her welfare or how her ride on the coach had been. He did have a strong forceful way about him and she was determined to follow his lead and make him impressed with her riding abilities. 

The hour passed much swifter then she expected. She was lost in thoughts of the journey ahead and wished her father had picked a man more chivalrous than him. 

Matt returned to the room and indicated she should follow him outside. He didn't ask if she had rested and didn't seem to care at all how she had spent the hour; his indifference was maddening and she was determined to make him take notice of her. 

It was much cooler outside than before and she pulled a cloak from her bag and wrapped it tightly around herself.

"Is that all you have, that mere cloak?"

"Yes. The school said to bring only a few clothes and nothing else."

"You'll freeze long before the journey's over. Did you think you would not need clothing for the outdoors?"

"It was just that the school said not to bring anything and my father said you would supply anything I might need."

"So I'm to clothe you too? Never mind; it's too late now I have some extra things on the packs," he said, his blue eyes flashing his disdain.

He was concerned taking a lone woman across the wild country. His guiding business mostly involved taking groups or just men, never a woman alone. The father had paid him well after seeing his reluctance to take Sara to Northbridge. He said the girl could ride well and he shouldn't have any problems with her keeping up, he was indeed proud of his daughter and asked that Matt stay with her right up to finding the school making sure she arrived there safely. He would do it, but with qualms about her abilities; she was a good-looking woman, but soft pampered woman were not the sort to take well to long rides over ever-changing country.

He had started his business years ago, seeing a need for guiding travelers across less-than-hospitable regions. He had grown up in these lands inhabited by all manner of creatures—including men—and had come to know their ways and how to avoid the more dangerous ones. 

Elves, imps, demons and trolls all roamed the wilds, trolls being the most treacherous. They would steal men and woman from their camps and drag them to their hideaways in the hills using them for their amusement. Their huge bodies always, without exception, killed the unsuspecting traveler by crushing their bones while taking them in a most vile way. When they were done, they would hang the bodies for later cooking and eating. His reluctance to take a lone woman was not unfounded, but he had agreed and would take the safest route even if it meant having to spend an extra day or two on the trail.

It was his life, a guide and traveler, never staying to long in one place never seeking the love and tenderness a woman might provide. Although he had many women in different towns, there were many barmaids willing to please men in whatever fashion a man desired. He had learned a great deal in the bars and inns but his most valued lessens came from a Madame Katherine, who filled the need of many men in her school for the "arts" that involved teaching young woman about the fine art of arousal and carnal pleasures. 

She had taught him personally what women desired saying it would make him a much sought-after man and although he never used it on any but the barmaids she believed that eventually he would settle in one place and want to take a wife. She told him it would be beneficial for him to now how to please a woman as well as how a woman could please him. 




Demon's Bane



He had thought about taking a mate but decided after losing a lady he adored years before to a demon, that if he were ever to take a wife it wouldn't be till much later. He would save enough gold from his business to attain some status in the world of more conventional men. Allowing him to be in a position to give a lady a home and the pampered lifestyle he imagined all women craved. 

As he led Sara to the stables he hoped she had some sense about her; he would make it very clear—with force if necessary—what would be expected and what he wouldn't tolerate along the journey. The wilds were no place for lamenting and foolish behavior. 

There were elves inside the barn grooming beautiful white horses. He didn't give them a second look as most elves were good and decent, but she stared, fascinated with their dark eyes and clever clothes. The silvers and golds, reds and yellows were so enchanting and the stitching so fine, the human eye couldn't tell were the pieces had been sewed together. 

He pulled her aside roughly and whispered she should not stare, as they had a way with women and she would find herself mesmerized. It was at that time that they could have their way with her. She realized then what a sheltered life she led and knew she was helpless and would have to depend on this man for more than her life.

As he got the horses ready for riding he told her of the Lesser and Greater demons that roamed the wild looking for men and woman alone; she need not worry though as he knew how to keep them at bay. Having heard stories of the Demons, how they took both men and woman for their pleasure and how few survived to tell the tales gave her shivers and she pulled her cloak tighter.

Matt helped her up on a lovely brown mare, noting her riding pants were slightly too large for her frame and made a mental note to himself to check her later for saddle sores. He jumped lithely upon his black gelding, nimbly reached down for the pack horses reigns and away they went from the town.

For hours they rode, her legs stiffened and her seat sore from the constant bumping and rubbing from the mares pace. She wanted to rest but would never give him the satisfaction that she was unprepared for such a journey. She thought of the week ahead and had her doubts now of making it there without angering him with her womanly weaknesses. The truth was she had to use a bathroom in the worst way, but couldn't bring herself to tell him that she must stop and relieve herself. Another half-hour went by and suddenly he stopped and hopped from his horse, laid the reigns down and without a word pulled his penis out and urinated a few feet away from her his back turned.

He had barely spoken to her during the ride and had seemed lost in his own thoughts. Her shock at seeing him so nonchalantly relieve himself showed clearly on her face. He gave a slight smile as he turned to face her.

"If you need to do the same it must be now. The next bit is rougher and we have to get past the marsh lands before dark. There are elves further ahead and you won't see them but they will surely see you." He laughed. "We'll be on this trail many days and it won't do to be shy of such things. There's a bush there; like I said, if you need to, it must be now."

Knowing what he meant about the elves, she too got off her horse and headed to the nearby bush, glancing at him to make sure his head was turned. It was almost too much for her to take her riding pants down so close to him, but the need was great and she knew she would not be able to hold herself any longer. Finally she pushed down her pants with her back to him and felt relief as she let her fluid go. She wanted to walk around a little to stretch the cramped ligaments and feared it would get so much worse as the day wore on. Her determination however to not let him see the agony she was in spurred her on. 

She could do this, she thought, even if it involved great suffering. Sweeping her long hair back and straightening her shoulders in an effort to appear more confident then she felt, she went to the mare and waited for his hand to help her up. 

Her legs didn't want to wrap around the horse again and her muscles screamed with agony as he pushed her up on the mare's back. He just smiled, noticing her pain, and jumped back on his own horse leading the way further. He figured she would soon enough accustom herself to the long stints ahead. Her muscles would ache and if need be later he would massage her legs with some liniment he kept in a small parcel of medicinal things stowed away on the packs. 

They rode on until night began to fall and the air changed to cooler and damper. She was cold then and too sore to continue. 

"Please can we stop now? It's late and I think my horse is tiring. She's stumbling," Sara lied, hoping he would make camp.

"Your horse is fine; she's traveled much farther than this. I think perhaps it's you that's tiring. But this is not the place too make camp. We need to ride on."

Sara behind him, seethed at his callousness. How could he be so unconcerned with her suffering? She was cold, and hungry, and her legs and bottom hurt. She realized the jaunts she and her father took across the fields had not come close to preparing her for this. He'd better stop soon, she thought, or she would stop on her own, and make her own camp. Perhaps that would teach him to be so callous. Of course she couldn't—he had the packhorses and she was at his mercy. She had no choice but to continue. 

She sighed with great relief when he finally stopped his horse and said they would camp there for the night. He had picked a spot surrounded with tiny bushes and trees that would give them some cover and hide a small fire from watchful eyes. It was near a small stream and the horses drank their fill before he tied them for the night. With quick look about he spotted a log and dragged it to the place he intended for the fire.

"Sit down there; I'll get a fire started and make us something to eat," he said, and went around gathering wood.

"Can I help in some way?" she said, trying to be courteous.

"No, thanks, just sit there till I have things arranged."

Feeling rather useless but not wanting to interfere, she tried to sit but found her legs wouldn't cooperate. The pains were terrible and her seat was still numb from the ride. Instead she wandered over to the horses and pretended to go through the packs looking for food and bedding. Over the horse's back she watched him gather wood and was impressed with his deftness at lighting the fire. His body moved like a cat and she found her self-wanting to feel his hard body close to hers. 

It was, of course, not proper for a lady to be thinking such things but she couldn't help wanting to feel his heat and run her hands over his huge muscles. She shook her head and thought how she could barely move let alone attract the attention of a man seemingly completely indifferent to her.

"Have you found anything of interest in there?" he asked, walking towards her.

"Oh, yes, there are some packages with food but I don't know what ones I should remove."

"Sara, sit there by the fire. I'll get the things from the pack; every bit of space had been accounted for and I'd rather not have to undo the mess you might make of it."

Feeling even worse, she went to sit by the fire, but again her legs wouldn't allow it. She stood there feeling like crying but did her best not to show it. The fire was a comfort and she warmed her hands and let the heat radiate to her sore limbs. Matt could clearly see her discomfort and thought he might better do something about it or she wouldn't be able to ride in the morning. She was not bad looking and massaging her legs would not be an inconvenience or displeasure.

"I see your legs are giving you some trouble. Take those riding leathers off and lie down here," he demanded, laying a blanket down near the fire. "I'll give you a massage."

Oh she did want too but she was raised to be proper and wasn't going to take her pants off no matter how much she might enjoy his hands on her bare legs. And his demanding manner made her want to defy him even more. When she didn't do as told, he glared at her making it clear it was not up for debate.

"That wasn't a request, my dear. I can't get you to Northbridge if you can't ride. Now lose the pants and come lie down here now," he said. His voice had become a little more forceful. 

"But I don't need a massage and I'll certainly not remove my clothing. I can still ride and I'll be fine by morning."

He didn't wait for her to lament further. Moving like a leopard, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up over his shoulder. She gasped with fright and tried to get down, kicking her legs and pounding him with her fists. How dare he take such liberties, she thought? Matt held her easily and laid her unceremoniously on the blanket. Before she could protest further, he had her pants undone and was pulling them down to her knees. She couldn't kick but she twisted and turned like a snake trying to escape. He lifted her legs and pulled her pants completely off. She screamed and kicked at him, but he just nimbly stepped away from her, avoiding the assault.

"There. Now, run if you will but remember I only do this for your own good and you can leave the underpants on. I do recall saying you must do what I say when I say it. And you gave me your agreement."

"You are a scoundrel!" she yelled. But having nowhere to run she knew she had no choice but to do what he asked. She secretly was a little aroused at his strong forceful ways. She knew she would like to feel his hands on her legs, but she gave him an exasperated look and threw her head back, defiance in her eyes. He advanced on her again and she knew she was undone.

She lay quietly and allowed him to rub her sore legs; his hands were like fire on her sore muscles. He kneaded deep, feeling her relax with his strokes. Up and down he went, his hands so warm, so hard and rough against her skin. After a good going at the front he told her to roll over and he would do the backside of her. Again his hands moved up and down the back of her legs and she could feel the tension and strain leaving her lower body. His hands moved higher up to her sore bottom.

Oh no! He must not touch her there, she thought. She tried to roll back over and sit up. Matt stopped her and pushed her head down on the blanket. Then he lifted the back of her underwear to look at her bare behind. She yelled out an obscenity and tried to get free; he held her down with ease and just as he thought, there were two dollar-size welts, one on each round cheek. He ran his thumb over one and she yelped in pain. She struggled harder to get up.

"Lie still while I attend to these welts or I'll redden the rest of your bottom with my belt."

The look in his eyes told her he wasn't fooling around and she thought he just might make good on the threat. Deciding she didn't want to find out if he really would stopped her struggling and let him attend to her sores.

He went to his pack and picked out a jar of ointment and some cotton cloths, pulled her underwear down to her thighs and applied the ointment to her welted behind. Thinking it was over, she again tried to rise but he held her down firmly and began massaging the muscle around the welts.

Oh, his hands felt so good and she wished he wouldn't stop, that his hands would move lower still and under to that spot between her legs and rub till her juices flowed and her body twitched with desire. How wicked her thinking was! She knew why the woman in the inn had said he could park his boots under her bed anytime and how his indifference could make a woman want him more.

He finished the kneading and covered the spots with the cloth then lifted her underwear back up, slapped her butt once and rose to get some dinner cooking on the fire. She lay there a moment disappointed he had not even tried to ravage her. She thought there must be something wrong with herself or perhaps he didn't like women in that way. Either way, it made her want him even more and she would have to try to get his attention somehow.

Matt had wanted very much to ravage her body but he did have a reputation to keep if he was to make a living and a lone woman under his care coming to Northbridge saying he had not been a gentleman would bring him nothing but trouble. Her silky legs and tight bottom had excited him but he had to be very careful and not allow his own desires to lead him astray. There were still many dangers ahead, including the Demons and Trolls. He had not mentioned Trolls, as it might have terrified her to the point of not going on.

And, of course, there were the wood elves to deal with as well, their dark sides far more dangerous to a woman then anything else. If they caught her and enchanted her she would be passed around for carnal pleasures till there was nothing left but a shell without any feeling.

The demons, too, could tear a woman or man in half, not caring about the sex of the human, and after having their way would cast the body aside hunting for something new.

He knew the country well and would get her there safe. If there were pleasures to be had it would wait till they were well out of the lower regions and past the forest of the elves.

He went about making a stew and Sara sat feeling rather dejected, not knowing how much danger she was really in.

Part Three

Sara spent a fretful night tossing and turning, shivering at times from the cold. She woke to a blazing fire and the smell of coffee brewing in an old blackened pot. Matt was not there and she felt a pang of fear, but scolded herself; he had obviously lit the fire and was probably gathering more wood. 

Sitting up, she did not feel pain and her legs felt much better; even the welts on her behind felt like they had somehow healed overnight. He had insisted she sleep only in her underthings, saying she would stay warmer that way. With a furtive glance around, not wanting to be seen, she gathered her riding clothes and went to find a spot to relieve herself and dress.

Matt watched her moving about, keeping an eye on her. There were Imps about in the early morning and while they didn't pose a problem he'd rather they not scare her. They were seedy little creatures and would delight in taking a human woman back to their den.

As she dressed his eyes roamed over her body; he could better see in the daylight how lovely her shape was. The round curves and soft pale skin aroused him. He would wait and perhaps investigate her body more closely when they got to the mountain pass. It was much safer there and he could relax a little, knowing that any creatures would be further ahead not lurking around the mountain's base. They stayed either farther up or much further south. He knew of the perfect camping spot and she would be thrilled with the little surprise he had in store.

He turned his gaze away and gathered a little more wood, knowing when they passed the forest and got higher up the wood would be scarce. Seeing she had returned to the fire, he went to join her and pack the wood in a bundle for use later.

"I trust you slept fitfully? And how do your legs feel?" he asked, tightening down the leather fastenings.

"I was cold during the night but my legs are much better, thank you."

"And the welts on your behind?"

Her face reddened as she recalled the evening. "I think they're healed; there's no pain. What was that you put on the sores?"

"Elves' medicine. I carry it for such things. Its properties are magical; you shouldn't have any more trouble with saddle sores," he said, handing her a mug of coffee, some bacon and rough bread. They ate silently, he thinking of the long trail ahead, she thinking how she could get his attention and make him want her.

Matt put out the fire, got their horses ready for the next ride, and helped Sara onto her horse to start their trip around the elves forest. The country was gorgeous; fall was an enchanting time in the forest of elves, with pale silver and gold leaves on the oaks complimenting the bright orange and red tones of the smaller maple trees. 

Tiny bits of colored cloth had been hung on the lower trees and lanterns dotted the area, giving a festive appearance. Matt took them only to the edge of the forest not daring to go deep; it was beautiful and he wanted her to see the fabulous colors but they needed to stay safely at the edge. 

He explained it was high season for the elves, the time of harvest, and they would enjoy a much longer and larger social event than that of men. Their festivities were among the finest of all creatures. He told her of the great halls laden with food and of the elven women who prepared it. They were for the most part a fair race and she needn't worry as long as they stayed out of their boundaries lest they should like her and captivate her with their charms. 

He said they must ride hard that day to clear the forest before nightfall, as he couldn't protect her from their bewitching at night. The Mountain pass would be safe and they would camp there the night. 

Their ride that day was so enthralling Sara barely noticed the time passing by. Her legs were stiffening a little but it was not painful and she enjoyed the fresh air. Even the sun was kind, warming the earth with its rays.

They stopped for a short lunch; Matt prepared a cold lunch mixing berries and some sort of dry meat she didn't recognize. He put the mixture between two slabs of bread, handing one to her. 

"What is this?" she asked.

"Pemmican. The tribes north of the mountains use it when there's no fresh meat available. It has everything you need to keep up your strength. Eat it!" he encouraged. He bit into his own with vigor, obviously enjoying it. She nibbled cautiously at hers, and was surprised it was not quite as horrid as it looked 

"Is it passable?" he asked, a grin on his face.

"It's not what I'm used to, but I can eat it," she assured him. He didn't allow them much of a reprieve and had her back on the horse leading her further away from the civilized world.

On and on they rode. Matt quickened the pace as the sun started its downward fall; dusk would not be far ahead. Matt stopped their ride at a rock overhang on the mountain pass saying they would camp there. He got busy building a fire while Sara stretched her tired body, alleviating the tiny cramps. 

She would like to have felt his hands on her legs then; he was warming up, it seemed to her. His conversation easier and less rigid, she was beginning to enjoy his company and like a flower opening up in the sun she wanted to open up to him. She wanted to feel him like fire, raging blazing... her body wanted to feel the nerve tingling flames of passion. She would do what ever was necessary to allure him into wanting her. 

Out in the wilds he could take her with unbridled passion, his power overwhelming her and she helpless to stop it, which was what she wanted. More than anything else, his evocative scent and sheer dominance could send her over the edge to pure ecstasy; she knew it deep down like a woman knows blindfolded what baby is hers by the scent and feel. 

She wanted the touch of a real man, not the clumsy fumbling of an over-excited boy. She needed to feel the heights of passion she had only heard of, wanted to be like the women in the Inn--seductive, and seducing men to there beds. She had no experience to fall too and would have to rely on her womanly charms.

With the fire going well, Matt went to get things from the pack and told her to follow him. He led her onto a trail not well-used; it ran in a downward direction and he held her hand till they reached the bottom. She was awestruck at the view of a mountain waterfall and small lake. It was like some pictures she had seen in books from her fathers' study.




Demon's Bane



Seeing her face light up at the surprise he'd saved had him smiling, too, and she reminded him of a time when he was not so serious and had taken the time to enjoy life and the affection of a woman. It seemed long ago that a real, decent woman had gotten his attention—not like the barmaids, but rather an innocent female not already hardened by the ways of men and their wretched lives. She was fresh and soft, still unhindered by the tough ways the country could make a lady equally tough.

He watched her eyes sparkle with delight as the water fell from the high peaks with great force and beauty, tumbling down to a quiet clam lake. The trees around the lake were colored the same as the elf forest. 

"We can bathe here if you wish. I will bathe first while you stand watch and yell if there is any movement in the bush. I don't expect trouble here but we must be prepared for anything," he said, undoing the package of soap towels and clean clothing.

She stood back a little pretending to look for danger, averting her eyes as he quickly unclothed and dove into the water. She heard him gasp and sputter at the cold temperature. Curiosity got the better of her and she couldn't help but look at his fully-naked body. Any danger forgotten while she looked at him soaping the lean hard muscle, his thick neck and wide shoulders, thinner rippled waist and pronounced thighs.

His penis hung there between his legs and she wondered if it was large like the rest of him when aroused. He turned then and she glimpsed his small cute behind as he dove in to the water to disperse the soap. At the waters edge he scooped up a towel, frantically drying and rubbing some heat back into his body. 

He caught her looking and smiled slightly wondering, if she had watched the whole time. He wrapped the towel about his middle and waved her over to the edge of the lake to join him.

"It's your turn, my dear; I'll wait there by the bush, but be quick. The water is cold and we must get back to the fire." He said while putting fresh clothes back on.

She recognized her chance to get his interest; she hoped it would be enough to focus his concentration on her. In spite of the cold, she undid her clothing more slowly, her back turned to him, hoping he was watching. She stretched a little further than she had too taking her pants down and slowly slipped her underthings off. 

Her shirt came off, too, and she tried to make it appear as if she had difficulty lifting it over her head, slowing things down and allowing him a longer look. Her brassiere last, she fumbled with the clasp and felt that he was indeed looking her way.

She picked up the soap, hesitating for a moment bent over, hoping to excite him. She waded into the water; the cold took her breath away, and unlike him, she couldn't bring herself to dive headlong in. Little by little she crept in, shivering uncontrollably, any thoughts of wanting him driven out of her mind from the frigidity. She managed to dip herself in and soap very quickly but thoroughly. Another fleeting dip in and she rinsed herself off.

Matt chuckled from behind her and stood at the edge of the water, holding a towel ready to wrap her in it. A look of complete surprise overcame her face and she realized that not only had she got his attention but also she hadn't needed the little display she had given. A huge smile was on his face and hunger in his steel-blue eyes. 

Matt pulled her with the towel towards him and rubbed her body dry, paying extra notice to her limbs. Her body warmed a little and he helped her dress quickly in a long wool shirt he kept in his pack. Picking up their things, he led her by the hand back to the fire. 

Sara warmed herself while Matt lay a blanket down for them to sit on. She wondered if perhaps she had been too forward with her little show and was frightened then at what he might do to her. She wanted him, wanted to feel his body and revel in his attentiveness, but she didn't know him and she was alone out there in a wild country; he could ravage her any way he wanted. The thought scared her; he had been forceful with her in other ways and she had been turned on, but now she would know what real strength and control could do for a woman and wasn't sure she was ready to find out.

Matt sat on the blanket and patted the space beside him. She sat, too, and they enjoyed the heat of the fire together. After a minute he looked at her; his blue eyes told her to prepare. Standing, his clothes came off quickly, then on his knees, his hand deftly swept out and he pushed her down to lie facing him. Oh no, she thought, he was going to take her and she would be helpless to stop him; her mind screamed run away but her body yearned for his touch.

He didn't allow time for more thinking. His mouth found hers and his tongue pushed in, tasting her. She felt her shirt being lifted up and hot hands found her breast; the soft flesh was kneaded and pulled, a rough thumb circled her nipple. On his knees, he placed himself in front of her, pushed her legs apart. His hot wet tongue licked her from her belly up to her breast and sucked hard at each one.

His hands roved over her body down, down to her swollen clit; heated fingers found her opening and pushed roughly inside. His face eagerly shoved into the triangle of hair and his tongue lapped at her with frenzy, his mouth closed in on her, sucking and teasing till she tried to pull away from the sheer ecstasy. 

He grabbed her legs pulling her up to his waist, his penis pushing into her, strong forceful thrusts pounding her insides. His movements slowed then and he rocked her more gently, his hunger easing.

She thought it was over; it was quick—too quick. She hardly had time to enjoy the sensations her body yearned for, and she wanted more. He smiled down at her seeing she was still heated. He was not done. He flipped her over on her belly, and slapped her bottom hard, telling her to rise up on her knees.

This was new; her experience with males hadn't included this. Her heart pounded and she shook with excitement not knowing what to expect. 

He entered her from behind, slowly pushing in his penis, hot and hard, while his fingers reached under her, masterfully playing with her clit. Slow strokes to her insides and flicking, pressing fingers on her outsides had her body swaying and pumping to match his rhythm. Her swollen hole dripped with delight at his attentions. He grabbed her ass and massaged the rounded cheeks. His penis still slowly plunging, his hands held her firm while a thumb pressed at her anus.

She cried out loud and tried to lean forward. Oh no, she thought not there, it wasn't proper at all. Her position kept her from moving any further and the attempt only raised her bottom higher and she knew with certainty he would have her there as well. 

Feeling her try to move away from his thumb he decided he would wait till she was more prepared for such things. Increasing the pace, he plunged harder and harder till he lay spent resting on her back. Sara was sated and relieved he had not forced her into something she didn't know about and was quick to roll back over on her other side.

They both dressed and he leaned down and kissed her tenderly, told her to rest while he prepared a meal. His actions were practiced and adept and he skillfully maneuvered the black cooking pan over the fire. Dried meat was added to water along with some root vegetables to make another stew. He produced some elves bread from the food pack and they enjoyed a hearty meal. 

After some quiet talk of elves and other creatures they disrobed to their underthings and snuggled together in the same blankets. Sara slept well, sandwiched between the fire and Matt.

Part 4

Their journey continued bright and early the next morning, the sun not quite reaching the earth yet, and the air still very cool. Matt took a heavy wool coat from the packhorse and insisted Sara put it on. The horses snorted, their breath hanging in the air; Autumn was almost over and they felt an urgency to get where they were going.

Matt led the way over the mountain trail; as they got higher his eyes watched for movement from the small rocks littering the trail and higher up where man didn't go. They were in the beginnings of Demon territory and if he weren't very careful they could both find them selves in a lot of distress. 

He explained to Sara that the lesser demons were more like man, but unclothed and their appendages huge. He told her to stay close at all times and had even tied a lead rope to her horse in case the horse bolted at the smell of a creature. He said if one took her the only chance she would have would be to fight with everything she had, till he could pop a dart filled with the herb "demons bane" into the offending creature.

The herb was made by the elves to prevent the monsters from taking their woman; it caused a great burning that could consume their bodies for a long period of time. Once a woman or man was caught the demon could hold them in a trance-like state and do whatever they wished.

The information scared her as he hoped it would; they were not creatures to be trifled with. Many a maiden had gone seeking the lesser demons, hearing of their huge appendages and found out they were not able to contain the thing in their bodies. Consequently some were ripped open in the middle and died out in the wild from blood loss. Those that survived were unable later to have children.

Seeing he had made an impression, he changed the talk to more pleasant things.

Their ride was uneventful and Sara was awed by the majestic mountains. High up, she could see snow in the peaks. Matt said not to worry, the next part of their trail would take them lower into the evergreen tree area. There would be no snow and perhaps he could catch some animal for fresh meat.

The trail was edging down and the first evergreens could be seen just in the distance. It was late afternoon and Matt decided he would like to be farther away from the hilly mountainside. Sara grumbled a bit; her legs were cramping and she was hungry. The mountains had held her attention but the beauty was fading quickly as the ride went on. She wanted to stretch her legs and walk for awhile, but Matt insisted she stay on her horse and that they would stop soon. 

"Soon" turned into another hour and she complained openly.

"Please can't we stop now? My legs are taut and it feels like pins are stabbing at me."

"It's only a short haul from here, the place I always camp in this part of the country. It would be best for you to stop your whining and stay alert."

"I'm not whining; I'm cold, hungry and my legs hurt!" 

"Your ass will hurt, too, if you don't stop complaining."

Sara closed her mouth and continued in silence not wanting to anger him. A little later she started to sing softly to help pass the time. Matt smiled at her and rather liked her sweet voice. Another half-hour passed and she really didn't think she could go further. He pointed ahead to a clearing saying they would stop there and make camp.

Gratefully she got down from the mare and walked about while Matt made a blazing fire. The night hadn't come yet and he said he would not go far or be long. He would try to kill a couple grouse or rabbits for their dinner that night. 

He told her in a stern manner that she must not stray from the fire while he was gone. To do so would not only be foolish but she might regret it. He left with her agreement to stay put and heat some water in the old black kettle. Water was on a pack on the horses and she went to fill it, while he walked a ways into the wooded area. 

Matt had been there many times on different occasions, with all kinds of company. It was his favorite camp spot and knew were to find the grouse and could trap a rabbit in minutes. He felt okay leaving her for a short time never having experienced danger in that location. The worst things in these parts were the Woodland Imps; they had left the demon's region behind and even she could fend off an Imp if the need should arise. In just 20 minutes he had killed and plucked three fine grouse and much to his pleasure found five small eggs. The small treasures he stowed away in a small safe compartment and hung them on his belt then headed back to the fire. 

Sara was not there. He stopped dead, his heart pounded hard in his chest. The kettle was on the fire but there was no Sara attending it. Dropping the grouse he called her name loudly; when she didn't answer he looked on the ground for signs in an ever-widening circle. He didn't like what he saw.

His mind raced. Demons! How could it be? Demons didn't come this far; he had never seen one south of the mountains.

With great dismay he realized the thing must have followed them after smelling their sex. It had waited for the opportunity to find her alone. He ran to his horse, jumped on bareback and, following the demons trail, prayed he was too late. He felt the darts on his hip and took the blowing device from his jacket pocket, ready to fire when he saw it.

Sara had done as she was told; she had got the water from the pack and returned to the fire. She settled the kettle down in the flames and needing to relieve herself, went just to the edge of the trees, keeping the fire in sight. She took the big wool coat off and urinated, then standing, pulled her riding pants up.

The Demon grabbed her from behind, closing its clawed paw over her mouth, stifling her scream. When she saw what had her, terror settled in so deep that she was unable to move or make any sound at all. It dragged her a short way into the bush; it would have its way with her.

It was tall and muscular in an almost man-like way. Its naked body was reddish in color and two small horns adorned its head. The eyes, red, shone with lust. A cloak-like skin surrounded its body, deep purple in hue. The arms were massive and rippled with strength, its fingers clawed at the ends. Its legs were thick and stout, and ended with hoofs for feet. 

Shock and panic set in as the purple cloak-like skin wrapped around her. At its end was a penis; she was confused and shaken. The thing had another where a man's would be. It was huge much bigger then the one between its legs. New terror took over as she realized the enormity of the danger she was in. 

A razor claw ran down her front, opening her shirt. It turned her around and forced her to bend at the waist, her back to it. A second claw hooked onto the back of her pants and her clothing was ripped away with no more effort than peeling an egg. Turning her back around it gazed hard at her and she felt herself calming becoming entranced with it. 

Its cloak, hot to the touch, hugged her tight; the appendage at the end toyed with her, teasing. It ran down her front, circling her breasts. She couldn't help it—she wanted it to take her. She wanted that thing inside her, wanted to feel its heat, its passion for her.

The demon pushed her roughly to the ground and she was helpless to stop it; she wanted to feel that huge thing inside her. It turned her over on her stomach and lifted her waist, the smaller penis teased her, pushing and darting at her wet hole, it played with her clit and she screamed with desire. The purple folds engulfed her. 

Oh god, she thought, it will take me here. I must stop it! Wake up, you stupid girl, it may kill you! She remembered then what Matt had told her. Fight! Fight! Her mind screamed, and she did fight, with everything she had. The thing held her tight, kneeling behind her. 

She started screaming and thrashing, pounding on the monster's huge muscle-bound legs. She could feel the penis from the cloaked skin probing her anus while the other pushed at her vagina ready to impale her. Thrashing wildly, she kept the Demon from entering her fully, but the engorged head of its penis began ripping her flesh as it forced its way in; the second pushed into her other hole, causing the delicate skin to tear.

It was over in a second; the thing howled in pain and surprise and threw her out of the way. Her head collided with a rock and she was knocked out cold. 

Matt watched a moment as the creature ran howling into the woods. The danger having passed, he ran to where Sara lay unconscious. He cradled her in his arms and checked the back of her head. She had been lucky the thing had toyed with her first; her head had a slight gash, but he didn't think it was too serious. He would examine the rest of her back at the camp. The clothing was torn and useless and he left it there; he had extra things in his pack she could wear later.

Matt picked her up, slumped her over his horse, jumped up behind her and pulled her over his middle. He covered her lightly with his jacket and headed back to their camp. A little blood ran down her legs and he thought how stupid he had been. He should have been more careful; it was a hard lesson, one he had remembered from long ago, and made an oath to himself never to forget again. He had lapsed and it had nearly cost this woman her life.

She came around as they came into camp, and he lithely got down taking her with him. Catching her in his arms, he carried her to the fire. She sat groggily with nothing but his jacket covering her. The gash on her head hurt and there was a throbbing pain between her legs. She remembered fighting against the beast and how it had howled in pain. Matt had come to her rescue and for that she would be forever grateful; it could have been much worse, she was sure.

Matt went quickly to the packhorse, brought back a small bundle of medicinal things and two blankets. One he lay down on the ground, the other he reserved to cover her. The water had boiled down but there was enough to bathe her wounds. He added some herbs to the water and let it cool a minute before attending to the gash in her head. 

She winced in pain while he cleaned and bandaged it. He eased her over to the blanket and she lay down. His hands parted her legs to see the extent of the damage to her torn skin. Relief showed in his eyes that it was not as bad as he feared; the blood had dried and he could see only some small tearing around her private parts. He washed her there and applied some of the elf ointment, then covered her with a clean cloth. 

Their trip would be delayed by a day but he was not concerned. She would heal nicely and would be able to ride the next day.

He washed himself up and prepared the grouse still lying on the ground. She watched him, fascinated with his cooking skills; it seemed he had a lot of skills and she wished she had more time to be with him. 

He helped her to sit up and they ate the nicely roasted grouse, along with some fresh root vegetables and more rough bread. It was a well-deserved feast and although her injuries stung she was content to sit quietly at the fire with him.

Later he rolled her up in blankets near the fire and he sat up watching through the night for any more danger. He didn't think the demon would come back but wasn't going to risk being taken unawares in the night.

Part 5

The morning came and, as always, he had water in the kettle for coffee and was frying bacon and toasting bread. He said he had a real surprise for their meal and reached into the small carrying pack producing 5 speckled Grouse eggs. Grouse, he told her, were the only bird he knew of that would mate this late in the season and he had been very lucky to find them.

Taking the bacon from the pan he asked, "How's your head this morning?"

"It's much better, the pain is gone but I can feel a small lump still."

"Yes," he laughed, "much like this small egg. When we've eaten I'll look at those other wounds and see how they're healing. Here, you can put these on; they'll be a tad big, but will keep you warm," he said, passing her his spare clothing.

"It hurts some sitting, but they don't sting so bad. That elf medicine...does it heal all things?" she asked, pulling on the much-too-big clothing.