A Demon's Devotion Ch. 05

"Is everything alright in there?" Levi asked, the echo of a smirk in his voice.

Beatrice shut her eyes. There was no getting out of this. And that was the most terrifying, exciting thought of all. "I-I...I think I need some help zipping it up."

After an excruciatingly long silence, the curtain rustled behind her. She remained frozen in place, not daring face him, though unable to say why. Her gaze remained low, only occasionally darting up to glimpse the demon looming in the mirror. He reached for her hair first, parting it to the side before tracing a finger down to where the zipper began. Her breath caught as his hand settled on the small of her back, keeping her in place while he closed the dress in one slow, deliberate motion. She could feel him watching her the whole time, studying her reddening, downcast face. He liked what he saw. And as his hands slid off her back, Beatrice had to admit...she did to.

"This is what we're looking for," he murmured. "It suits you perfectly."

"I-it does?" Beatrice smoothed the skirt with a nervous laugh. "I-I dunno. My legs look so...huge whenever I wear stuff like this. And my man-shoulders are just...ugh. I can't even look at them."

"Oh? Interesting. I think they're quite nice." Levi gave the offending muscles a gentle squeeze. She stiffened. "And sensitive too," he laughed.

"Sh-shut up." Beatrice lifted her fingers to his, only to find she couldn't bring herself to push them away. His hands were so firm, yet tender and warm against her bare skin. He'd touched her plenty of times before, but this was different. There was something so...intimate about his grasp on her shoulders, something that felt far more delicate and dangerous than his prior advances. Almost by accident, Beatrice met her own gaze in the mirror, and nearly didn't recognize what she saw. The woman standing before her was like a beautiful doll, fragile and precious in the hands of the shadow behind her. Her eyes were glassy and dazed, yet beneath their shining surfaces churned desires darker than she could decipher. As if pulled by a shift in gravity, she felt herself listing back, gently pressing against the man who had captured her. She wasn't quite sure if he'd pulled her into him, or if she'd chosen to fall. Either way, his body supported her effortlessly, her head resting on his solid chest, rising and falling with each quiet breath.

His lips hovered close to her ear, and his voice seemed to rumble inside her head as he spoke. "You will wear this for me, won't you?"

Beatrice swallowed. She could fight the answer. But she couldn't deny it. "Yes, Master," she whispered.

______________________________________

Beatrice had never left a changing room wet before. But then again, it was becoming a day full of firsts.

She tried to ignore the squish of her panties as she slipped into the checkout line, clutching the dress against her still-fluttering stomach. Even as she slid the garment across the counter and refused yet another rewards card, her mind remained locked in that dressing room, replaying the same thirty seconds until they stretched for an eternity. The feelings that had thundered through her, the echoes of sensations still reverberating now...they were so familiar, yet equally alien as well. She'd felt sexy before...but not like that. She'd felt vulnerable and feminine before...but not quite like that. It was as though she'd glimpsed a different Beatrice in the mirror, an uncanny yet alluring apparition, begging for her corporeal copy to draw closer, to sink past the glass and uncover her mysteries.

But what would Beatrice find waiting for her there? Was it just an illusion conjured to ensnare her? Or a revelation threatening to consume her?

She returned to Levi clouded by these thoughts, a fact which he apparently noticed. "Is everything alright?" he asked.

"Yeah." Beatrice exhaled. "Just, uh, trying to figure out where we should go next. We're a little outside my area of expertise at this point."

Levi nodded, though his expression didn't change. "Don't overthink it. It's less about fashion and more about feelings. So don't hesitate to go with your gut."

"Easy for you to say. You don't actually have to wear any of this stuff."

"A pity, no?"

Beatrice blinked. Then laughed. "Oh wow. Did you actually make a joke just now?"

"Perhaps." He smiled. "I'm a man of many talents after all."

"Uh-huh." She retook the lead with a brisk step. "Well if it's all the same to you, I'd rather move on before you get any other funny ideas."

Their shopping resumed with renewed spirit, the recent purchase going along way to narrowing Beatrice's search. Even so, it still felt like she was navigating uncharted territory, relying more on trial and error than a strong sense of direction. Occasionally, she would spy a sweater or skirt that would evoke an excited tremor, only for it to deaden the moment she lifted the garment from the rack. Then all it took was a skeptical look at Levi to confirm that the choice was a bust. Though if it was cute enough, she would sometimes try it on anyway. Just because she was altering her wardrobe at the behest of a lust demon didn't mean she couldn't have a little fun with it.

A few more successful outfits landed in her bag, but the thread connecting them remained frustratingly tangled. Every successful find came with a rush of seemingly contradictory emotions: arousal, dread, revulsion, revelation, surrender and emancipation. Parsing the truth behind these paradoxes would be daunting in the best of circumstances, but the growing haze in her frazzled head made the task almost impossible. When a floral blouse and mini-skirt sent her pulse skipping, she finally had to ask.

"So...like..." She gave one last swish and turn for Levi's inspection. "When you said I secretly want to wear these sort of things...what exactly did you mean?"

The demon's gaze lifted from her legs to her eyes. "I'm not sure I understand the question."

"W-well you seem to think you know me pretty well so...why would it, y'know, turn me on to dress like this? And why would I be in denial about it?"

Levi shrugged. "Just because I can sense certain feelings doesn't mean I understand their origin. They could spring from any number of erotic associations or repressed wishes."

"Great." Beatrice sighed. "Some help you are."

Levi's lips quirked into a smirk. "Would you believe me if I told you it was out of a desire to please me? That you secretly crave submission and humiliation, especially in service to my whims?"

Beatrice's throat tightened, but she managed to turn away and scoff. "Good point. I forgot you were full of shit."

"I don't ask for your belief. Only your obedience." His hand rested on the nape of her neck. "And you're becoming quite skilled in that regard, aren't you?"

"I..." Beatrice swallowed. A part of her bristled at his patronizing tone, but dressed as she was, with the massaging of his fingertips sending shivers through her blood, it felt only right to murmur: "Yes, Master."

"Good girl. And that's why you're going to wear this out for me, aren't you?"

She tensed. "Y'mean like...right now? Today?"

"Of course. After we've paid, you can come back here and change. Consider it the first trial of your new wardrobe."

"H-hang on a sec. Isn't that taking things kinda far? I mean, we just--hhaah!" Beatrice bit her lip as Levi's power seized her crest, pleasure flooding her body and sending giddy bubbles through her brain.

The demon leaned closer, his words rippling through the happy chemicals. "You will do this because it pleases me. And there is nothing that brings you greater joy than that. Understand?"

"Yes...Master..." she nodded with a vacant smile.

"Good girl. Now," he gave her a subtle pat, "off you go."

Beatrice tottered back into the dressing room, moving as though she were in a dream. Her head felt fuzzy and floaty, her senses dulled save for the burning needs of her sensitive, insatiable flesh. Aftershocks of her Master's power cascaded through her, coaxing her overheating body into obeying his commands. It wasn't long before she was standing beside him again, her old clothing stashed in her shopping bag, and her newly purchased uniform marking her as his. And somehow, as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her closer, she didn't mind at all.

"That's a good girl." Levi smiled. "Why don't we call it a day a head back to my place? I think you've earned yourself a reward."

Beatrice didn't trust herself to speak. So she just nodded, and followed the demon towards the shop entrance, her mind swirling with the horrible, incredible possibilities of his promise. Then they stepped out into the bright light of the mall's main walkways, and the eyes of the world fell upon her.

It was overwhelming, the sudden sensation of being seen. In some recess of Beatrice's mind, she knew that her attire wasn't really that remarkable, that to some degree she was imagining the stares and snickers around her. Yet they still seemed to slither in from all sides, snaking across her bouncing chest and wrapping between her trembling thighs. Her surroundings became a blur, her senses sinking into every shift of fabric against her soft, sensitive skin. When Levi offered his arm, she clung to it without thinking, desperate for any anchor, any stability in the tempest of exhilaration and shame. Her crest thrummed as she pressed against him, coaxing her into surrendering all pretense of pride, to allow his unwavering presence to be her rock, her direction, her savior from the carnal abyss that threatened her.

For a moment, a strange, dreamy peace settled over her.

Then a familiar pair of faces appeared in the crowd. And Beatrice's world shattered with a bolt of pure terror.

She wasn't sure who saw whom first. But it didn't matter now. Suzi and Theresa were already waving her over, their eyes gleaming with sadistic curiosity as they beckoned Levi and Beatrice across the food court. And as Master and servant exchanged a tense glance, realizing they had no choice but to wade towards the fanged grins of her friends, Beatrice knew without a doubt:

Her erotic dream was about to become a nightmare.