A Demon's Devotion Ch. 01

"Well?" Beatrice asked, the sound of rustling paper starting to grate on her.

Levi frowned. "It's...difficult for me to make sense of this."

"That bad, huh?" she yawned. "Well, I've never really been a big fan of poetry, so..."

"I don't believe you."

Beatrice blinked. "Excuse me?"

"It's clear you've analyzed our readings thoroughly," Levi observed. "You've reproduced the styles and meters of your assigned authors impeccably. But it's almost as if you've done it by accident, or as some kind of joke. Your choice of subject matter and language is laughable, and yet not a line is out of place. If I didn't know any better," his eyes narrowed, "I would say your intent is mockery."

For a moment, Beatrice found herself unable to speak. She sat up and folded her legs, struggling to hide her discomfort behind a wry smile. "Well...shit. Didn't expect you to say that."

"What did you expect me to say?"

"I dunno. That it's garbage, or something."

"Oh, it is. It definitely is."

"Great. Thanks."

"But it's not because you lack understanding or intelligence. It's more like...you simply refuse to utilize them."

Beatrice swallowed. She went to take another drink, only to realize her glass was already empty. "Are you saying I'm failing this class on purpose?" she growled.

"More or less. Though perhaps not consciously."

Beatrice chuckled humorlessly, the anger she'd felt in the classroom rising again. "Right. Because you're such a good judge of character. You're so smart, all it takes is one stupid homework assignment for you to become an expert on me, is that it?"

"It wouldn't take an expert to see that your struggle is with actualization, not academics. It's as obvious as the fact that you don't really need my help."

"Oh yeah? Then why the hell did I invite you over? Because it sure as hell wasn't for your company."

For a moment, Levi's expression went blank. He turned away, seemingly lost for a moment, before at last taking a cautious sip of his drink. "I'm not sure," he said, his words soft and slow. "About you. About...any of this."

Beatrice closed her eyes and bit her traitorous tongue. "Sorry. I didn't mean to go aggro all of a sudden it's just..." she laughed. "You're kinda intense, you know that?"

"Is that how you see me? As...intense?"

Among other things, she thought. "I guess," she said, subtly shifting closer. "You always seem so...serious. I mean, you tore into my poems like they were crimes against art. But this is just a high school English assignment, right?"

For once, Levi didn't tense as she drew near. Instead, his gaze remained distant, clouded by thoughts unreadable. "I suppose...it just seems like a waste," he said.

"Woof. See? That's exactly what I'm talking about. You gotta learn to relax, dude." She hesitated, then brushed a strand of hair from his brow. "You'd actually be pretty cute if you lightened up a little."

Levi searched Beatrice's expression, as though convinced she was bluffing. But she had spoken honestly: maybe it was the alcohol, or a trick of the light, but up close, without his trademark glower...she had to admit, his face wasn't totally unpleasant. In fact, with his clean jaw, symmetrical features, and slightly pouty lips...Levi could probably pass for attractive, if he put some effort into it.

It was almost a shame she had to break him.

She moved her hand from his hair, letting her fingers skim his cheek. He bristled, but didn't pull away.

"Sorry," she murmured. "Should I stop?"

"N-no. It's fine." He swallowed. "What I mean is...it's...er...it's just..."

"Just that a girl's never touched you before, right? Not like this, anyway."

"Well...that's...not exactly true."

"Oh?" Beatrice arched her eyebrows. "Then I guess you already know what comes next."

"What—" he started to say, but didn't make it any further before her lips pressed into his. She felt his body go rigid, and then, like a dam breaking, he became a cascade of motion and passion, one hand pulling her closer as the other grasped her face. Her mind went blank, the sudden sensation of his touch stifling her instincts, his tongue sliding into her mouth before she knew what was happening. He tasted sweet, and moved with an aggression and confidence Beatrice never would have expected. It made her light-headed, and took a surprising amount of strength to break free.

"Is everything alright?" Levi asked, a strange note of danger in his voice.

"Y-yeah," she assured him, trying to sound unfazed even as she wiped a shaky hand over her lips. "I just...wow...didn't, um, didn't think it'd be like that."

"It's not all I have to offer," he replied, his eyes shining. For a moment, Beatrice was frozen, like prey trapped by a predator's gaze. But she stood before he could get any closer, backing away with an uneasy laugh.

"Oh, don't worry," she said, reorganizing her scrambled thoughts. "I will...definitely take you up on that. But first, I gotta grab some, uh, some protection from upstairs. Why don't you...get yourself ready while I'm gone? I promise to make it worth your while."

"Of course," he nodded. "Though I'll admit, you have made me rather...impatient."

Beatrice opened her mouth to retort, only to turn away when he began undoing his belt. She hurried out of the room, her heart racing as though she had just escaped certain death. It wasn't until she was halfway up the stairs that her body and mind finally slowed, allowing her pride and frustration to catch up.

Just who did that asshole think he was?

Beatrice growled as she marched into her room, stomping in circles as she pretended to "look for protection." Levi was probably having a hearty laugh downstairs. He must've felt pretty slick, acting so vulnerable and nervous only to turn the tables the moment she let her guard down. No doubt it was a move he'd learned from some pickup artist or something. She would bet money he practiced in front of the mirror before coming over. He probably thought she was hooked. Probably thought she was easy. Like everyone else did.

Well, he was about to get a nasty surprise.

After taking a few deep breaths and determining that enough time had passed, Beatrice crept back down the stairs, careful to not make a sound as she readied her phone. If her timing was right, she should be able to snap a photo of him and send it to her friends before he even suspected she was watching. Then the trap would be complete, and he would be hers to do with as she pleased.

Not that he would ever please her, Beatrice reminded herself.

She held her phone up as she approached the den, determined to seize the first chance she got. Even if Levi didn't appear especially strong, there was something vaguely threatening about his presence, something that convinced Beatrice she would only get one shot, and that she couldn't risk what would happen if she failed.

So she held her breath. And poked her head around the corner.

It took a moment for the camera to focus. Then Levi's naked form filled the frame. He was as skinny as she imagined, all jagged bones beneath a layer of wiry muscle. Despite this, his cock seemed surprisingly vigorous, the flushed, stiff shaft bobbing restlessly as he paced. She couldn't say whether it was larger than average or not, but it was still oddly...distracting. For all her preparation, it wasn't until he absently stroked the prominent appendage that she snapped back to attention, stifling a startled gasp as she took the photo.

The shutter clicked in the darkened hall.

"Beatrice?" Levi called. "Was that you?"

Beatrice ducked out of view, a torrent of panicked curses racing under her breath. What a stupid mistake, to forget to silence her phone ahead of time. It was only further proof of what a maddening debacle the evening had become. But that was about to change. If she could just send this photo to Lucy, then...

Beatrice froze, blinking in disbelief at her screen. Something was wrong. The picture hadn't turned out right. The background looked as it should, but there was a...glitch, or corruption, or some kind of electric interference over where Levi was standing, hiding him in a cloud of distorted pictures. Of all the times for her phone to be on the fritz, it had to be now. With shaking hands, Beatrice readied the camera app again, lifting the phone and peeking around the corner for a second shot.

What she saw set her teeth on edge. The glitch had somehow spread to her camera as well: even though she knew she was looking right at Levi, all she could see was a storm of fractured color. She tried changing her position, no longer worrying about getting caught, just searching for any angle that would reveal her target.

"Beatrice?" a rumbling voice asked.

Her eyelids fluttered. Strange. That had sounded like Levi's voice and yet...different. It was like she had felt the words instead of heard them, their warmth passing over her skin like the first breeze of spring, gentle and inviting. The tension in her body eased, her phone arm lowering...

...Allowing her to see the source of her troubles.

Levi had changed.

No, that wasn't it. It was more like he'd...blossomed somehow. As if the boy she had glimpsed earlier was just a seed, a skeletal cocoon waiting to break open, and unleash the miraculous creature inside. Gone were his wan skin and reed-like limbs, replaced by an imposing figure of impossible darkness, a masculine form made from swirling, impenetrable shadows. Streaks of starlight formed the contours of his body, like galactic rivers flowing through muscular valleys. He was at once stillness and motion, the darkness and light shifting constantly, yet gradually, as impossible to follow as it was to ignore. Beatrice could feel her gaze drawn in by its majesty, and might've stood there staring forever...

...Had it not been for his face.

It was still Levi. She recognized this, somehow, even as he no longer resembled any human she had known. In fact, he didn't resemble anything: his features seemed to exist on the same cosmic plane as his body, their dimensions always shifting, irresistible beauty their only constant. His eyes were the sole exception: they remained fixed in place, blazing with a radiance Beatrice had never experienced before, a light so blinding as to be blacker than night. She couldn't understand it. Couldn't look away from it. And couldn't resist its power.

Without a word, he called to her, the gravity of his constellations impossible to disobey. Her feet moved in slow, automatic steps, her mouth falling open in wonder as her phone slipped from her grasp. She didn't even flinch as the plastic clattered against the floor. She was no longer in control. The darkness was. And she was helpless before its whims.

Yet as she drew within reach, a part of her instinctually recoiled. In the recesses of her heart, a voice called for her to flee, to break the chains around her mind and escape the shadows before they consumed her. But then the shadows spoke, and silenced the thundering drums in her ears.

"Be not afraid," the darkness said. And she wasn't. Her body obeyed as if her own soul had commanded it, her tiny spark of fear extinguished in an instant. The remaining tension in her body slipped away, her her shoulders slumping as her head listed forward with a sigh, a string of drool trickling down her drooping chin. She felt helpless and naked, completely at the mercy of the forces that had captured her. Yet as a dark, warm hand cupped her face, it wasn't terror that caused her veins to tremble; it was...it was...

Rapture.

"You are safe," the soothing shadows purred. "I have not come to harm you. I am here to give you what you want, what you have always desired."

"What...I...want?" Beatrice repeated. Her thoughts were too dim to comprehend the words, yet she trusted that they were the truth, as irrefutable as the cosmos swirling in her head.

"That's right," the galaxies hummed as a thumb traced her dripping mouth. "You wish to become mine, to taste my pleasures and be ruled by my power. This desire lies at the very core of your being, and it flows into every inch of you, growing stronger with every beat of your heart and breath from your lips. You feel it don't you?"

"Yesss...." Beatrice answered. Her insides burned with hopeless yearning, the fire growing brighter the deeper into the darkness she fell. She felt the shadows snake beneath her shirt, grasping her soft, pliable flesh, tweaking and teasing her trembling nipples. A shuddering whine crawled from her lips, the pain and pleasure suffusing every inch of her. Yet she wanted more. She wanted everything. She wanted to be enveloped by the night, to be swallowed and filled until there was nothing else left.

"Good." The word rippled like a euphoric pulse through her mind. "Then open yourself to my will. Surrender to me, and proclaim me your Master."

"Yes...I..." Beatrice's breath caught, as though trying to stop the words from forming. But she couldn't resist for long, no more than she could stop the arousal soaking her panties.

"Say it," the darkness commanded.

"I surrender...to you...my Master."

Her reward came swiftly.

At first, Beatrice couldn't comprehend what was happening. Her pupils rolled back, her heavy eyelids fell closed, and yet she could still see Him clearly, in every dimension of her mind's eye. Then she felt His embrace, and stopped trying to understand. How could she? It was beyond anything her pitiful body had experienced before. Ecstatic sensations seized her from every side, like the touch of a million lovers claiming her all at once. It was overwhelming, inescapable. She felt Him enter her pussy and fill her mouth, her cries muffled and then silenced as He poured into her, until she was overflowing with delirious joy. He was taking her, in every sense of the word. All that Beatrice was belonged to Him: she writhed in worship of His power, came again and again in mind-shattering supplication. Her tits, her ass, her mouth, her cunt—they were all merely instruments of His will, vessels for the pleasure He created. She was used. She was loved. She was consumed. She was remade.

She was in bed.

At least, she thought she was.

Her body twitched as the darkness receded from her naked form, the sensations of her Master fading, sweat and stickiness still clinging to her skin. She wanted to see Him, to roll over on the soaked sheets and beg Him to stay. But her muscles remained immobile, weighed by a fatigue heavier than her frail will could manage. The more she struggled, the deeper she sunk into the mattress, deeper towards irresistible slumber. For a moment, she was terrified, fearing that the favor of her Master would fade along with her consciousness.

Yet as sleep clouded her vision, she felt His power linger inside her. It was still there, weaving itself into her heart, into her mind, becoming a piece of who she was. Its presence was comforting, reassuring. And it allowed her to at last yield to the needs of her exhausted body, and slip into a deep, peaceful sleep.

* * * * *

Levi sat hunched at the edge of the mattress, his breath coming in strained, rapid gasps. The thrilling frenzy of his power was receding, his wretched, human form returning along with a cold, sober realization:

He had fucked up. Big time.

How had he let things get this bad? Hadn't he made himself a promise? Wasn't it supposed to be different this time?

Perhaps his adversary had been right all along. Perhaps demons were beyond change. Perhaps this was the way it was always meant to go.

Levi turned to his victim, his gaze searching desperately, as if he could somehow be mistaken about what had just occurred. But of course, the truth was plain as day, as undeniable as the crest forming above her still-glistening snatch.

Beatrice was now his servant. And he was almost certainly doomed.