Famous Last Words

Clarissimi Novissima Verba

Newsflash: Hades News Network

"The clandestine operations of the underworld took a serious blow today when a novice underling thought it would be... ahem... 'fun'... to conjure serviceable wings to a sounder of swine. Humans in a small parish of backwoods Louisiana found themselves wishing they'd never tied the prospects of their deepest humiliations to half-hearted pledges of 'When pigs fly.'

"While the sight of self-inflicted public debasement and the most vulgar of indecencies proved both humorous and entertaining, it's imperative that our operations be less conspicuous.

"Fortunately, the fledgling dimwit demon's powers had a force limiter in place. The number of pigs involved was limited to a one-hundred head drove and the duration of their ability to fly was temporary--approximately fifteen minutes according to sources. Furthermore, the many incestuous acts subsequently performed in that particularly clodpoll-infested rural area were, shall we say, not uncommon and the... uh, rumors... of flying pigs were blamed on a barely even questioned run of bad moonshine.

"Still, let this greenhorn gremlin's buffoonery serve as a reminder to us all that humans not believing we exist is not only our greatest weapon but our primary defense, as well.

"Do not be so foolish as this neophyte fool.

"This has been a news alert from the HNN--your source for underworld news. We now return you to your program, already in progress."

"Come now, nephew Itchy. You mustn't whine like a human child. What's done is done. Instead, look at this wonderful new power you've been entrusted with this time--a most diabolical incantation, indeed. I dare say, a most inventive contrivance I wish I had in my arsenal. You should learn to wield it wisely."

"Uncle, you're patronizing me again. That stupid new chant they gave me is nothing more than a hocus-pocus trinket for a tadpole. I want to be a frog, Uncle--a full-grown toad of a demon, like you and Grandpa Sweti. Everyone's still treating me like a moppet since I made that one little mistake."

"Making pigs fly was a small mistake, Itchy?" his uncle Harry challenged. "And that was hardly your first little mistake, don't you agree? Why, not two days before the pig fiasco you conjured the 'Be Careful What You Wish For" invocation at a human wedding? A human wedding! How utterly thoughtless!

You ought to have used that ploy at more opportunistic occassions, like when commoners see a millionaire and wish they could be like him, not knowing the rich fool has cancer. What a glorious invitation it would be to use that particular scheme then!

But a human wedding? That married couple is practically untouchable now with all the well-wishing they received that day. And you went and locked it in for them for the rest of their lives with your gross misuse of what could've been a beautifully cruel curse. You should count yourself lucky you were only demoted back to Demon Second-Class."

"Lucky? You call that lucky? Uncle Harry, there's nothing lower than Demon Second Class in all of the ranks!"

"Yet another reason to count yourself lucky, then! I'd be lying if I said the demotion wasn't well-deserved, young Itchy. But they were well within their rights to have banished you forever to haunt some tourist mansion in Missouri, and you have to agree it would have been all the more embarrassing if you'd fallen more than just the one rank."

"Yeah, now that's some consolation, Uncle. 'Gee, Itchy. Isn't it grand that you were only Demon First Class to begin with, so dropping back to Demon Second Class wasn't such a big drop?'"

"Watch your snide tone, Itchy. I won't hesitate to spank your ass so hard your devil tail falls off. Or have you already forgotten the last time?"

"Don't even joke like that, Uncle Harry! I'm sorry, okay?! Please don't whip off my devil's tail! It took forever to grow back last time and it was humiliating walking around with just a nub. Even the demon hound groomers made fun of me."

"Then stop your bellyaching and consider what a grand third chance you've been given to show you can be trusted."

"I still say it's a stupid conjuration," Itchy pouted. "Stupid clarissimi novissima..."

"Itchy! Don't you dare say it out loud unless you fully intend to invoke it! For Hell's sake, have you learned nothing from your past mistakes? Words have power when spoken by their guardians and you've been entrusted with something very powerful. Don't screw this up by being so careless, yet again!"

"Sorry," Itchy lowered his yellow eyes in shame. "I knew that, Uncle Harry. I just forgot for a second; that's all. So, um... what does it do, anyway--the Famous Last Words thing?"

"Didn't you tell Master Scabies you already knew?"

"Yeah... uh, about that... I might have fibbed a little."

"On top of everything else, you lied to Master Scabies? Understudies have been de-horned for lesser offenses than that. You never lie to a Master."

"I know. I know. It's just... well, he seemed so happy they gave him another chance with me. I didn't have the heart to tell him I fell asleep during the lessons on oaths and self-recrimination."

"Of course. You fell asleep in class, too. Why am I not surprised?"

"Oh, just say it, Uncle Harry. You know you want to. I'm worse than a human!"

"Nephew, calm down and stop being so dramatic. I mean, seriously, nothing's worse than a human. But I have to warn you, Itchy; if you do screw this up, you just might suffer the fate of a human. Powers are a serious business. They have import not only in the physical world but here in our spiritual underworld, too. These aren't child's play for you to toy with like moving a chair or making chain sounds from thin air. You must to take this seriously."

"Yessir, Uncle Harry. I'll do my worst."

"That's what I want to hear, Nephew. Now, go wield your new weapon responsibly and find some pathetic human souls to torture with your gift."

Joshua Ramberg woke up horny, as usual, with his usual morning wood tenting his bedsheet. He'd had his usual erotic dream about his MILF neighbor next door, Miss Porsche Sinclair, and he rubbed one out, as usual, in the shower, reliving the fantasy he'd remembered from his sleep--the one where she took control of him and made him do all manner of naughty things.

Mind you, he never wanted those fantastic events in his dreams to play out in real life. They were far too embarrassing and could ruin his future. He could get kicked out of his college program before he even got started. He could be barred from pursuing his chosen career in education. He might even be charged with public indecency and sentenced to jail time. No, the fodder for his erotic self-pleasure was best kept very very secret.

Unfortunately for Joshua Ramberg, Demon Second-Class Itchy had been lurking undetected perched like an oversized raven above the shower curtain while Joshua cried out "Thank you, Misstress Porsche!" as he spilled his seed on the tub's floor. And Itchy had heard every word of Joshua's lurid fantasy played out.

Every 'I belong to you, Miss Sinclair.' Every 'I love you, Mistress Porsche' and 'I'm your servant' and 'do with me as you want' and 'yes, you can have my virginity.' Even when he'd said 'Yes, Miss Sinclair, I will parade around the neighborhood naked, since you ordered me to' and, at last, the coup de grâce, 'Yes, Mistress Sinclair, I'll jerk off in front of every woman on our block if it pleases you!'

Of course, that last thing was just plain ridiculous and Itchy snorted when he'd heard it spill forth from Joshua's lips, just before the boy's sperm erupted from the self-abused cock in his hand. Then again, if he was honest, he'd witnessed humans doing far crazier things than that in real life, just to get their rocks off. Hell, he'd even planted some of those crazier ideas into their heads then watched with glee when they gave up any pretense of self-restraint and happily performed them for him.

Itchy had a thing for watching humans humiliate themselves. Nothing pleased him more. If he thought he could get away with it, he'd reveal himself to these pathetic oversexed humans and give them a taste of his own demon cock and maybe even his tail. He'd impregnate a human woman with his demon seed while draining the balls of a human man with his demon tail up his ass. He'd join them in an orgy so vile it would fulfill every last one of his depraved fantasies.

That's the difference between devils and humans. He knew he was depraved. He was open about it. He often shared new fantasies he'd had about debauchery and lust with his Uncle or pretty much anyone who would listen. But these commiserable pissant mortals liked to fool themselves into thinking they weren't so depraved and then lord their false piety over each other in hauty judgment. Oh, how he loved to turn them over to their basest true natures, to free them from the delusion of their so-called morality, only to enslave them all over again to the wickedness they'd harbored all along.

Though he hadn't hatched a plan quite yet, he decided to latch onto this Joshua boy until he could devise something so devious as to make his demon uncle proud. As expected with a hormone-laden eighteen-year-old virgin male human, he didn't have to wait long.

Joshua checked himself in the mirror for the third--or maybe eighth--time before taking a deep breath and heading next door.

Miss Sinclair greeted him with a smile and a long, lascivious, top-down ogling of his boyish body from his scalp to his feet. "Joshua, so good to see you again. Are you here to tend to the lawn, take care of some odd jobs for me, and otherwise do my bidding?" She giggled playfully.

"Y-yes, ma'am, if that's okay," he answered shyly, dropping his eyes lest he fixate on any one of her many fine features up top--her bewitching eyes, her succulent lips. her perfect natural breasts, never imprisoned by a bra and always begging to be suckled upon. But if that wasn't temptation enough, with his eyes drawn lower, he couldn't avoid seeing the taut skin of her bare midriff, her belly button craving to be invaded by his tongue, and the distinct lines of a camel toe behind the skimpy tight boy shorts she loved to lounge around in. For all the confidence he displayed as a submissive in his fantasies about Miss Porsche Sinclair, in real life, he was shy and bumbling, yet still incurably acquiescent.

"Why, of course it's okay for you to come over, you handsome thing," she made a playful pawing gesture toward him with her hand. "You know I simply adore you. You can come visit me any time... day or night."

Joshua blushed simply at her saying he was handsome and at what sounded even to his unacquainted ears like a brazen invitation for something alluringly unwholesome. "Th-thank you, Miss Sinclair. Um, what do you want me to do today?"

"Oh, well, I'm having a party, you see, and I have a long list of to-dos. I'll need the windows all washed from the outside, I did them myself from the inside last night..."

Joshua already knew this, since he'd secretly watched her from the bushes for two hours straight. He touched himself as she leaned forward, sprayed each window with ammonia, and wiped each pane of glass dry with such vigorous circular motions that her braless tits jiggled and bounced behind the thin white t-shirt she was wearing. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought she knew he was there the whole time, the way she seemed to flaunt her body so suggestively to her voyeuristic audience of one.

"Oh, and I think the pool needs some attention, too. I hope you've brought something you can get into the water with?" She again eyed him up, or rather just down, to see if her favorite eighteen-year-old colt might be wearing the Speedo she adored seeing him in, the one that barely contained his thick untapped cock beneath his thin athletic shorts.

"I... um... I thought it might need cleaning, Ma'am, so... yeah... I'm wearing my swimsuit underneath... like you said you told me to last time," he said with a blush, knowing she'd always found a reason for him to strip down in her presence, even on occasions when the pool was pristine.

"Oh, goodie!" she cheered, hiding nothing of her eagerness. "You're such a good boy, Joshua. I love it when you do as I say and I just knew you'd come prepared. Now, I need to go take a shower and think of anything else I might need you to service for me."

Joshua gulped and wondered if Miss Sinclair intended to speak so suggestively or if it was just his hyperactive libido.

"I left some window cleaner and rags out back in a bucket along with a step ladder," she continued. "You'll get started right away, won't you?"

With that, she disappeared into the house, swaying her hips as she sashayed away.

With Miss Sinclair out of sight, Joshua adjusted his dick and went out back to get started on his chores. He found the supply bucket on the patio and a step ladder already leaning beneath a window, so he set up to clean that window first.

As he climbed the ladder, he heard the sound of water running from inside the house, the sound of a toilet flushing, then the sound of a woman singing the chorus of 'Mrs. Robinson'.

Shit! Is this Miss Sinclair's bathroom?" he wondered quietly as he climbed one more rung up the ladder and timidly peered in. Miss Sinclair! he gasped at the sight of his beautiful neighbor putting her hair up into a bun before shucking the towel she had wrapped around her bosom.

It was more than Joshua had ever seen of a naked woman in person, those fleeting two seconds before she stepped into the tub and pulled the curtain shut.

Oh God, she didn't see me? he wondered out loud at the realization that he'd just been peeping on his neighbor like a creepy stalker and, for now at least, had gotten away with it. He quickly decided not wash this window yet or he might have to explain himself once she came out to check on his progress.

Itchy watched undetected as the entire scene unfolded, still pondering obtusely how he might be able to use his new power to wreak havoc in the young man's life. "How might I humiliate him? How? How do I get my foot in the door? How? How, indeed?"

"Oh, thank God, she didn't see me!" Joshua exclaimed again as if spoon-feeding the remedial demon with a most-obvious course of action. "I can't believe she didn't see me."

"That's it!" Itchy finally stumbled upon the epiphany. "'Thank God, she didn't see me,' he says?" Itchy repeated Joshua's words aloud. "Why, to that I say 'Famous Last Words!'" And with a flair for the dramatic that would make a Vegas magician green with envy, he called forth the hex, "Clarissimi novissima verba!"

Immediately, the ladder beneath Joshua started to wobble and, to brace himself from falling, he leaned forward to steady himself against the window. His handed landed harder than he'd wanted, however, making a loud thud against the glass that startled Miss Porsche Sinclair. The shower curtain flung open and the wet, nude woman peeked out.

She scanned the bathroom to locate the source of the commotion, so loud was the crashing sound that she wondered if a cat had gotten in and knocked something off the vanity. But there was nothing amiss in the bathroom. When she finally gazed at the window, however, she came upon the face of young Joshua Ramberg staring back at her, wide-eyed and woolly. Feigning both virtue and great offense, she casually covered her breasts, with splayed fingers that still allowed her hardened nipples to peek through, then disappeared back into the shower to turn off the water.

The ladder beneath Joshua steadied itself and he lowered himself to the ground. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. She's going to kill me! She's gonna think I was spying on her! And she'd be right!

Before he could come up with anything resembling an excuse, Miss Porsche Sinclair came barreling out the back door, wrapped only in her towel, her hair still pinned up. A scowl seemed plastered on her face.

"Joshua Ramberg, you sneaky little scamp! Tell me you weren't just spying on me through my bathroom window?" she brought every last lesson from her drama degree to the task of looking violated.

"N-no, Miss Sinclair. It... it wasn't like that!"

Itchy grinned devilishly as the scene unfolded before him. How magnificently impish of him to use the young man's own words against him. "'Thank God, she didn't see me,' he said. Ha! I showed him!"

Humans often provide the doorways to their own demise, his uncle had taught him and by gods he was right. Itchy waited anxiously for the opportunity to use his new weapon yet again.

"I swear, Miss Sinclair, I was just starting to wash the window and I didn't know you were there. I... I had the supply bucket and everything. I promise I was only going to wash the window. I didn't mean to see your hot bod--er, I mean--I didn't mean to see you naked."

Itchy quickly pounced on the opportunity and before the older woman had the chance to inspect the scene, the bucket and all its supplies mysteriously teleported themselves back to the patio where she'd originally placed them.

"And just how were you planning to wash the window without any supplies?" she asked, seeing not a single supply near the window as Joshua had just claimed.

"Huh?" young Joshua was gobsmacked. "Miss Sinclair, I swear! I had the b--b--bucket and s--s--supplies right here!"

"Do you also have a b--b--boner right here?" Miss Sinclair asked mockingly.

"A b--boner? Miss Sinclair!" Joshua shouted in shock at the vulgarity of her question. But immediately, he checked himself, placing his hand over his crotch to ascertain whether indeed he did or did not have a stiffy in his shorts. "I d-don't Miss Sinclair! And I tell you it was an accident! I wasn't trying to spy on you and I don't have a b--boner!"

"Ooh hoo hoo!" exclaimed Itchy at the young human's ill-chosen words. "I don't have a boner, he says? Well, that sounds like famous last words if I ever heard them. Clarissimi novissima verba!" Itchy danced in place his own version of an Irish riverdance and chirped like a songbird in the spring.

Instantly, Joshua felt his penis engorge itself to the fullest in less than half a second. "Oh, no!" Joshua bawled at the inopportune fullness of his towering tumescence and the discomfort of it growing to its fullest potential so quickly.

Miss Sinclair, fully aware that she had caught her quarry in a trap and was loathe to let him escape, had been waiting patiently for such an opportunity to stake her claim on the young man. Finally she seemed to have found it. She pressed her advantage. "Prove it!"

"P--prove it, Miss Sinclair?" he begged, hoping desperately he had not heard her demand correctly.

"That's right, Joshua. Prove to me you don't have a hard-on. Right this instant."

"But, Miss..."

"Now, Joshua. Stand up!"

Assentive as always despite his verbal objection, Joshua stood, covering his mutinous erection with both hands.

"Remove your hands from your groin. Prove to me you weren't spying on me to get your sick jollies from watching me naked in the shower!"

"But Miss Sinclair, I swear I didn't mean to..."

"Remove your hands or suffer the consequences. Shall I call your mother right now? Shall I bother her at work and spank your naked bottom until she arrives here to fetch you?"