A Demon's Devotion Ch. 04

Beatrice felt stares sticking to her bare skin as she entered the classroom. Not that it was a surprise: her dress had earned plenty of unwanted attention throughout the day. She supposed that was her "Master's" intent. He'd vetoed all the other outfits she'd texted him that morning, whittling her options down to a strapless, lavender dress and the black heels she was currently tottering towards her desk on. Despite her best efforts, she stumbled a little as she reached her chair, a flush of embarrassment burning across her features. How far would it travel, she wondered? Would it stop at her cheeks, or trickle down to the exposed flesh below? Would it stain her naked shoulders and tightly packed bust, marking her body with bright red shame?

Beatrice sat and crossed her thighs, willing her racing heart to slow. She cast a glance in Levi's direction, and found her eyes meeting his. He turned back to his notebook, a devilish smirk tweaking his lips. The smug bastard. Didn't he realize how strange it was for her to be wearing such a formal outfit to school? Did he care? Or were her exposed legs and jiggling cleavage his only goals?

Either way, he seemed rather happy with the spectacle. As did every other gaggle of boys she'd had the misfortune to encounter. Was this what Levi meant by making her feel like "an object of desire?" Could he sense when she was dodging catcalls in the halls, or muttering excuses to skeptical teachers? He'd said that lust was his main source of energy, but it wasn't like struggling to walk was making Beatrice particularly lustful. It just made her feel...hot and...weird and...it made class difficult to concentrate on.

Which was why it took Beatrice a moment to realize their teacher was staring due not to her clothing, but her lack of response.

"S-sorry," she stammered, brushing her hair back and recomposing herself. "I...didn't quite catch the question?"

Mr. Werner frowned, the wrinkles on his tired face deepening. "I asked if you were ready to present, Ms. Fontaine."

Shit. Her poetry assignment. After everything that'd happened this week, her homework had completely escaped her. "Um..." she put on an abashed smile and her best puppy-dog eyes. "Is there any way I can get an extension? It's almost done, I swear, but with my mom's campaign and swim practice, it just kinda..."

Mr. Werner sighed. "I'll give you one more day. But this is your last warning. If the work isn't done and done well, there's a weekend study hour in your future."

"Right." Beatrice's expression brightened even as she groaned inside. "I understand. Thank you."

Mr. Werner nodded and moved on. Beatrice allowed herself a tiny sigh of relief, but the feeling didn't last long. No sooner had the next student started presenting then the shadow of the demon's gaze fell upon her neck. She stiffened, and chanced a look back.

Levi's expression was neutral. But his displeasure was unmistakable.

Beatrice silently cursed as she faced forward again. What was his problem? Didn't he realize it was his fault that she'd been so distracted lately? And why did he even care? It wasn't like getting good grades was gonna make her hornier. If he was hoping to train her to get off on schoolwork, he had a hell of an uphill battle coming.

Not that she'd try to stop him. Whatever instruction he planned on giving her, it'd surely be preferable to another round of punishment. Yesterday's "lesson" had made that much clear. Even now, the memory of her spanking sent shivers beneath her dress, racing over her crest and the faint markings lingering on her ass. Those would fade eventually, but she doubted she would ever forget them. Never in her life had she come so hard and so frequently. And to think it came at the hands of Levi Ehrlich...to think that his willowy body had somehow forced hers into submission...to think of how he'd stripped her of her senses and dignity, how he'd lavished her with praise, reproach, pain, and pleasure, to the point where their differences ceased...it was enough to make her...make her...

The bell chimed. Beatrice blinked. Class was apparently over.

And the demon was waiting by the door.

Beatrice huffed, but kept her voice low as she followed him into the halls. "What do you want now?" she asked. "Don't tell me servants are expected to get straight A's now."

"Not exactly," Levi answered. "But they shouldn't be stuck in detention when their Master calls either. We must work to avoid that."

"Meaning you don't trust me to do this on my own."

"Given your usual work ethic? Absolutely not." He checked his phone. "You have swim practice this afternoon, yes? We'll meet at your house afterwards."

"My house?" Beatrice repeated. "Why? What's wrong with your place?"

"Nothing," Levi shot back, a little too quickly. "It's...simply a change of scenery. That's all."

Huh. That wasn't the response Beatrice was expecting. She made note of it, but decided not to press the issue. "Alright," she conceded. "My place it is. But I dunno when my parents are gonna show up, so..."

"That's fine," Levi gave a curt nod. "Just...don't make things difficult, okay?"

"Sure," Beatrice replied, suppressing a grin. She turned away as Levi departed, hoping he wouldn't sense how pleased she was. The line about her parents was a total bluff, but a useful one. So long as she didn't lean on it too hard, the threat of their return should limit Levi's pervy options. And the fact that Beatrice would be playing on her home turf meant she could put some of her preparations to good use.

As she rounded a corner, she drew her phone from her bag, reviewing the list of exorcism methods she'd researched overnight. Most of them weren't feasible, of course, especially given her limited resources and time. She would have to be super careful with their deployment as well. If Levi suspected what she was up to, it wasn't hard to imagine his response.

Still, it was worth a shot. She knew resisting Levi's power was a fool's game. But that didn't mean she was out of plays just yet.

____________________________________

Beatrice felt like an idiot.

She tried to get into the mood, imagining lengthening shadows and suspenseful music as she took measured steps around her home. That was how these scenes always played out in movies, right? The heroine preparing for the battle ahead, laying mystical traps and defenses with careful precision, conquering her fears and steeling her faith in the face of looming evil.

Beatrice tossed another handful of table salt over the carpet. A car passed outside with its radio too loud. As exorcisms went, this one was hardly a box office smash. If anything, it was giving Beatrice the vague impression that she was somehow pranking herself.

Though there was still a chance she would have the last laugh.

She consulted her phone again, repeating the chant on her screen as she stepped into the kitchen. The salt would be harder to hide on the tile, but if she spread it thin enough maybe it wouldn't matter. The instructions were a little unclear on that point.

A familiar engine rumbled outside. Beatrice dashed the salt she was holding across the floor, and hurried through the chant's final lines, completing a magic circle with her steps before rushing to the front door. By the time the bell rang, the spell was complete. The snare had been set.

She pulled the door open. "Welcome back, Master," she said, hiding her nerves behind a deferential curtsy.

"Good evening..." Levi replied, his eyes narrowing as he stepped inside.

Beatrice's shoulders stiffened. For a brief moment, she wondered if he somehow knew. But then his gaze flitted across her t-shirt and leggings, and she realized what had actually caught his attention.

"What happened to your dress?" he asked. "Did I give you permission to change?"

"No..." Beatrice answered, careful to keep her voice level. "But you didn't say I had to keep it on either. You just told me to wear it to school so..." She balled her fists, ready to feel her bridle snagged at any moment.

Instead, Levi let out a weary sigh. "I see. I did say that, didn't I?" He rubbed his face, seeming more crestfallen than spiteful. "It's a shame. You looked quite beautiful."

"Um, thanks." Beatrice nodded, subconsciously counting the steps as she led him towards the kitchen.

"Did you find the outfit disagreeable?"

"What? Oh, uh, I dunno. I've never been a huge fan of dresses. And it felt weird wearing something so...fancy, I guess." There was another reason for the wardrobe change, but he couldn't know about it just yet.

"I see." Levi muttered, seeming completely unaware of the magic circle he was now at the center of. Beatrice held her breath. If the post on the internet was correct, all she had to do now was mutter one last prayer under her breath and...

Nothing happened. No flash of light, no sizzling of Levi's skin. The knot in Beatrice's gut tightened, but she managed to swallow her disappointment. After all, she didn't even know what species of demon Levi was. He was clearly a creature of lust or desire, but that could place him in any number of supernatural taxonomies. And if there'd been one common theme in every article she'd read, it'd been that there was no such thing as a one-size-fits-all exorcism.

Which was why she had prepared backups as well.

Levi yawned, unshouldering his backpack as he scanned the countertops. "Did you prepare dinner as ordered?"

"Uh, yeah. Kinda." Beatrice titled the oven door open, revealing two frozen pizzas baking inside. "You didn't ask for anything specific though, so I figured pizza would be cool?"

The demon peered at the greasy, bubbling cheese, his nose wrinkling. "That won't do. It's bad enough that they serve this slop at our school. I refuse to suffer it otherwise."

"Well geeze, excuse me Mr. Ramsay." Beatrice rolled her eyes. "What did you expect? They don't teach gourmet cooking in high school."

"I'm well aware of the rather...dismal state of home education these days. Were we in my time, a young woman like yourself would already be an accomplished cook."

"Yeah, because that's all she'd be allowed to do. Look do you wanna eat, or just bitch and moan like an old man all night?"

Levi shot her a look, and began rolling up his sleeves.

Beatrice straightened to attention and shut her mouth. "U-um. Sorry. Master," she muttered, averting her eyes as he drew near.

"Is it safe to assume these pizzas are the best you have to offer?"

"I-I can make mac and cheese too, if you want."

He sighed. "Then I suppose dinner will fall on me."

Beatrice blinked, watching with confusion as the demon brushed past her and reached for the fridge. "Wait, seriously?" she asked.

"Do I seem like I'm joking?" Levi arched an eyebrow. "Your abysmal cooking skills will have to wait--the purpose of tonight is finishing your poetry assignment. While you work on that, I'll see to it that we're both fed."

"Oh. Sure. Okay." Beatrice shifted, the lack of discipline or punishment leaving her oddly listless. Then she remembered her plan. "Can I get you anything to drink?" she offered. "I can mix us something again, if you'd like?"

"Just water will do," Levi replied, not bothering to look up from the crisper drawer.

Perfect. "Yes Master," Beatrice chirped, pulling the filtered pitcher from its shelf. She carried it to the nearby countertop, trying to act casual even as her heartrate doubled. The internet was unclear whether only a priest could create holy water or not, but she'd blessed the container ahead of time anyway. There were also trace amounts of ground, anti-demon herbs floating somewhere in the mixture, though she doubted that would be enough to exorcise him. Still, if it had any sort of effect, that data would be useful for future attempts.

Beatrice passed the glass of water to Levi. He accepted it, and took a grateful gulp.

"Thank you," he said, turning back to the fridge. "You may leave now."

Beatrice grit her teeth, squeezing the air behind his back as though it were his neck. She turned away as he closed the refrigerator door, tossing out a tiny "Yes, Master" as she hurried out of the kitchen.

What the hell was going on?

Beatrice blew a strand of hair out of her face as she entered the den, thoroughly frazzled by the evening thus far. Nothing was making sense. Her exorcism attempts had barely even fazed her target, and now he was cooking as though he was the servant instead of her. Was he harboring some secret guilt about spanking her? That didn't seem likely. But then, how else was she supposed to explain his rather...hands-off behavior?

Could it be that her spells were actually having an effect on him?

Beatrice pondered this as she lit candles around the den, evoking scents that evil spirits found hostile. Or so she'd read. The thought that this could somehow exorcise Levi seemed silly now, but then...maybe all these little efforts were creating some kind of drain on his power. Now that she thought about it, she realized it wasn't just the bridle he seemed wary of evoking: he hadn't teased her with the carrot all evening either. And he did seem rather tired. Could his fatigue also be thanks to her holy magic?

Then again...Beatrice settled on the coach and stared at her laptop screen, her twisting thoughts dancing across the blank page. As much as she wanted to believe she was to blame for Levi's weakness, that explanation didn't quite fit. He would've definitely noticed his own lack of energy, especially if it'd started the moment he'd entered Beatrice's home. And unless he was playing some kinda elaborate mind game (a possibility she couldn't rule out), he probably would've scolded or punished Beatrice the moment he suspected she was up to something. Yet he'd said nothing.

Well, even if her previous traps weren't to blame, she could still take advantage of his vulnerability. Besides the candles, she had one more trick up her sleeve. Or hiding between her tits, as it were.

Refocusing on her assignment, Beatrice tried her best to actually get some work done. She still didn't want weekend detention, with or without the threat of demonic consequences. Yet try as she might, she couldn't get any words to actually stick to the page. She could hear something sizzling in the kitchen, drawing her thoughts back to Levi, raising fresh doubts and speculations. Was that a cough she just heard? Were the faint wisps of candle smoke actually reaching him? Or was she imagining things? What was he even cooking anyway?

It smelled nice. Though the scented candles soured it somewhat.

Finally, the sounds from the kitchen began to quiet. Beatrice looked up from her screen, and saw Levi enter the den. A paperback was tucked under his arm, two plates occupying his hands, both containing a seared pork chop and a tiny salad of mixed greens.

"I did what I could," Levi groused, placing the dishes on the coffee table. "Though to be frank, there wasn't much to work with."

Beatrice swallowed, her mouth already watering. "Looks pretty good to me."

"Faint praise indeed," Levi replied, though Beatrice thought she detected a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "And how do your own efforts fare?"

"Huh? Oh." Beatrice laughed awkwardly. "I got a few lines down, but it's been kinda hard to focus. I think I might be, uh, hungrier than I thought or..."

"Let me see them," Levi said, settling on the couch beside her.

Beatrice tensed, her breath catching in her throat. This was her chance. Her final shot. The candles clearly weren't doing much to him, so this was the last arrow in her quiver. As she passed the laptop over to him, Beatrice subtly reached for the tiny chain around her neck, pulling the crucifix necklace out of her shirt. She let it fall across her chest, the cross pendant now fully visible to the demon sitting next to her. At first, nothing happened. Levi's concentration remained fixed to the scant few lines of poetry on the screen. Then, when it felt like Beatrice lungs might burst, he turned to face her. His gaze flicked down, then back up to meet hers.

A fragile silence hovered between them. Beatrice gripped the couch cushion, her anticipation now boiling over into panic. It was clear the necklace wasn't having an effect. Now all she could do was prepare for his retaliation.

But Levi just let out another sigh, and set the laptop next to her plate. "Obviously, you still have work to do," he said. "So unless you want to be at it all night, I suggest you write while you eat." With that, he stood, carried his dinner and book over to a neighboring chair, and settled in.

Beatrice remained wary, sneaking peeks at him while she pushed food around her plate. Was that really it? Had he somehow not noticed the obvious crucifix around her neck? No, he had to have seen it. So then why hadn't he said anything? Was he playing dumb for some reason? Or did the necklace not even read as a threat to him? Were demons in real life that much different than they were in stories?

She probably wouldn't find the answer tonight. And a part of Beatrice wanted to leave it at that. She'd taken a huge risk trying to exorcise Levi--even if it hadn't panned out, at least Levi hadn't caught on and punished her either. Yet far from relieving her, the lack of consequences just sharpened her anxiety. Something was definitely wrong here. And she wasn't going to be able to eat or work until she got some answers.

"Are you...feeling okay?" Beatrice finally ventured.

Levi didn't respond at first, his focus fixed on the open book resting on his knee.

"Um, Master?" she tried again.

"Hm, what?" he blinked. "Did you say something?"

"I asked if you were feeling alright. You're not sick or anything are you?"

His brow furrowed. "No. Why do you ask?"

"You just seem a little...I dunno, tired?" She paused. "Did something happen while I was at swim practice?"

His eyes widened. "That's none of your concern," he stated, turning away with a scowl. "Now stop bothering me and focus on your work."

"Yes, Master." Aha. Her intuition had been correct. Something was eating at Levi, something unrelated to her and the failed exorcisms. Troubles at home, maybe? That would explain why he'd been so against studying at his place, though it didn't account for his obvious fatigue. Even so, Beatrice couldn't shake the feeling that whatever the explanation, it represented a chink in Levi's seemingly impenetrable armor.

Unfortunately, as exciting as these conjectures were, they didn't help much with her homework. In fact, they only divided her attention further. Between the deliciousness of Levi's cooking and the mystery of his hidden weakness, thoughts of rhyme and meter struggled to compete. It wasn't long before Beatrice's plate was clean, and her half-hearted keyboard pecking drew Levi's attention once more.

"Anything I should look at?" he asked.

"No, not really," she confessed, flopping back on the couch with an exasperated sigh. "Maybe we should just call this a case of writer's block and leave it at that."

"Very funny." Levi shook his head. "But I know you can do better."

"Uh-huh. 'Cause you think I'm secretly tanking my grade on purpose right?" she groaned. "I wish it was that easy. I just can't concentrate on any of this crap. Dunno why they bother teaching us in the first place. It's not like Robert Frost is gonna help me get a job or do my taxes or whatever."

"How pragmatic of you," Levi snarked. "But I'd wager most people with jobs and taxes would gladly pay to have a poetry assignment as their most pressing concern."

"Yeah, yeah," Beatrice waved the comment away. "I've heard that line before. I'm just so lucky to be so young, so pretty, and so totally stuck in high school, right? Why can't I just shut up and enjoy the best days of my life, like every other idiot tells me to?"