Goetic Justice

She released his wrists, raising her arms above her head as she danced to the ancient tune, framing and accentuating the movements of her curvaceous hips to create beautiful lines and shapes as he watched her. Her pale figure was illuminated by the licking flames of an unseen blaze, casting deep shadows across her body, her white fur tinted in shades of orange as if the flickering fire was but a foot away from her.

The beating of the drums grew faster and louder, building towards a crescendo, the sound of voices chanting in a language that he did not speak joining the instruments in their frantic song. He felt as if his pulse was married to that tempo, his excitement mounting as the pleasure of their frenzied coupling pierced through the illusion like a lightning strike. The music became discordant, Nahash abandoning her sensuous dance to fall forwards and pin his hands to the bed.

Their fingers entwined, her heavy breasts knocking against his face as she stared down at him intensely with her reflective eyes. She found a cruel and ruthless rhythm as she pounded him into the mattress with what felt like all of her strength. The springs beneath them threatened to give out, the demon coming down on him hard enough to bruise, their coupling deeper and more passionate than anything he had imagined. She thrust desperately, her juices overflowing as his aching erection plunged her depths, her hot breath washing over him as she brought her lips down to his neck and kissed him rapaciously. She harried his vulnerable throat with licks and lingering kisses, tasting the fresh sweat on his skin, biting softly as if some part of her was trying to consume him.

"Relinquish your seed," she growled, as if it was a demand that he had the capacity to refuse. "Flood me with it, share your essence with me..."

It was a request too provocative to refuse, and as his spine arched he felt a long-delayed orgasm well inside him like a geyser about to erupt, the pressure enough to make his head spin. It was futile to resist it, and as he relinquished control, a wracking pleasure tore through his exhausted body. Every nerve was aflame, every muscle seizing, a deeply satisfying ache that bordered on pain chasing the waves of euphoria as they washed over him. He dug his fingers into her inviting flesh wherever he could reach, holding her as they mated, his pulsating manhood pumping load after load of his ropy emission into her eager tunnel.

He felt her come too, joining him in his climax, snarling like an animal and throwing her horned head back as her loins contracted around him and her impressive body was reduced to a quivering wreck. She ceased her violent thrusting, twitching and shuddering, her eyes shut tight as a pleasure that she had been denied for millennia ravished her tender body.

Her passage milked him ruthlessly like some kind of reproductive machine, drawing out more of his warm ejaculate as her trembling walls rippled up his shaft like a thousand eager tongues. Over and over his body heaved into her, sweat pouring from the both of them, the milky concoction of their mixed fluids overflowing and sliding down her smooth thighs in fat wads. It was feral, unbridled, and for a moment he felt the pulse of nature itself flowing through him.

They stayed locked together for what felt like an age, every throb and shiver shared between the two lovers, feeding into each other as their intense pleasure faded and gave way to afterglow.

Nahash collapsed at his side, his still rigid member sliding out of her along with an unspeakable mess of their combined sexual fluids that clung to her thigh with the consistency of syrup. They panted in tandem, their bodies glistening with sweat in the moonlight, sore and spent as they wallowed in their post-coital bliss.

Ryan watched as she reached between her pale thighs, a finger vanishing inside her as she shivered contentedly, then she withdrew it along with a thick rope of their gluey mixture. It broke and fell wetly to her belly, Nahash examining the gunk that still dangled from her claw as if fascinated by it, biting her puffy lip.

"The blended essence of a man and a Seirim," she explained, glancing at him as he watched her. "Powerful alchemy borne of our union, liquid lust..."

His heart skipped, and he felt a fresh twinge in his loins as he watched her long tongue uncoil from her mouth, cleaning her finger of the pearly mess. She was either taking great pleasure in the bawdy act, or she just wanted him to watch as she sucked it from her claw, taking her time as if savoring the taste.

This was not entirely surprising to Ryan, he had read about sexual magick in the grimoires, ritual lovemaking performed as part of a summoning or an occult rite. It made sense for the Seirim to partake in such rituals, succubi that they were.

"It is powerful magic," she whispered salaciously, "it invigorates me. I would be remiss to let but a drop of it go to waste." She grinned, leaning over him, Ryan gripping her twisted horns as she took his lingering erection into her mouth. She sucked and licked, a stray aftershock making him shiver as her winding tongue cleaned away the mixture, pausing to tease his still sensitive glans as she withdrew.

She flopped back onto the bed beside him, the impact of her head on the pillows sending more of their stuffing floating into the air, the tiny feathers raining down on them as they lay together. The bed looked like a crime scene, the headboard was covered in scars, the pillows looked like someone had taken a knife to them and there were tears all over the mattress.

"Looks like I'm going to be buying a new bed with my first paycheck," Ryan chuckled.

Nahash rolled onto her side, taking him in her arms and pulling him into her bust, burying his face in the soft fur of her neck. He breathed in her familiar scent, utterly relaxed even without the aid of her powers as she pulled one of the heavy blankets over them, trapping their warmth beneath the sheets as they spooned.

"Now you may sleep," she crooned, running her clawed fingers through his hair. Ryan was exhausted, he was barely staying awake, but closing his eyes and letting sleep take him would mean an end to the night. He wanted this to last forever, but as he lay in her arms and the yellow rays of the rising sun pierced the blinds to cast their golden glow over the room, he succumbed to the temptation.

CHAPTER 8: BEST LAID PLANS

Ryan awoke alone in the ruined bed, yawning as he stretched his arms above his head. The sweet ache and satisfaction from their romp the previous night still lingered as he brushed away stray feathers and rose to his feet. He made his way to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, glancing at his wall clock to see that it was already midday.

He didn't like waking up alone, but he understood that manifesting a physical body did not come without a cost. If his plan succeeded, then he might finally be able to wake up in Nahash's arms for once. Speaking of which, he needed to upload that video footage from the trail cam. Hopefully, by now some hikers or joggers would have come across his little occult art installation and started spreading the word.

He retrieved the camera from his pack, which he had discarded by the door to his apartment, and rummaged inside for the camouflaged block. He brought it over to his computer, waiting a few moments for the device to boot up as he sipped at his steaming mug of coffee, then he connected a USB cable to the trail cam and began to transfer the video footage.

The night vision filter was suitably eerie, casting everything in a ghostly white glow, like an X-ray hanging on the wall of a doctor's office. Some trail cams only took photographs when they sensed movement, but this model was configured to take video, and as he squinted at the grainy image a swirl of smoke activated its motion sensor. It began to record the scene, a view of the clearing, mist billowing across the ground as the darkness of the trees surrounded the summoning circle that was drawn in the soil. The salt stood out well against the dirt in the monochrome video, and as he watched the swirling plumes of dark smoke started to take form.

He had never had an opportunity to see the process of summoning in such a clinical manner before, it was quite a lot harder to remain objective and pay attention to what was happening when the stench of sulfur was assaulting you, and the temperature around you was plummeting.

It was as if shadows were coalescing to form a humanoid shape, though there was no light source that would have been able to cast them. It was as though the very darkness in the atmosphere was concentrating in the circle. Ryan's heart skipped a beat as he considered the possibility that a camera might not be able to see Nahash at all. The demons seemed to appear as much in his mind as before his eyes, what if all it captured was formless smoke?

His fears were assuaged however as he watched Nahash materialize from the billowing vapors, although she looked less solid to the trail cam than she did to him. He could see her distinct, white fur and her twisted horns, though she almost looked transparent. Not quite a ghost, but clearly not completely real either. This must be how she truly appeared before she made up the difference through her psychic abilities. It had been the same when Orobas had been summoned in his apartment, when you looked at these demons you got the distinct impression that they were as much a mental image as a physical one, photons bombarding your eyes and ideas bombarding your brain to combine into a complete picture.

Her body interacted with the mist and her cloven hooves left footprints in the soil, she had mass, physical presence. Of course, people would assume that this was fake, computer-generated images created for the purpose of a hoax. But even the skeptics would be helping to spread the footage as they argued with each other and analyzed it frame by frame.

Nahash looked around for a moment, confused by her surroundings, and then she stepped out of view. Ryan transferred the video file to his computer then spent the next hour uploading it to popular video sharing websites, giving it an appropriately click-bait title. Ghost demon caught on camera, real or fake?! He made sure to include where the footage had been shot, as his plan hinged on starting a myth centered around the geographical location itself. Once the forest gained a reputation as being haunted then that belief would empower Azazel and his Seirim, it would become their new home. He posted links to the video on the summoning forum for good measure, wondering how many of the so-called occultists and self-professed demonologists would dismiss what might be the first concrete evidence of a real demon as fake.

He stood up from his desk, wondering what to do next. His new job didn't start for another week and Nahash wasn't around to hang out with him, might as well get some food cooking and see if he couldn't make some progress in his videogame of choice.

***

The sun was getting low in the sky when Ryan was interrupted, a frigid cold falling over the room as he set his controller down, his heart swelling with excitement as he waited for Nahash to appear.

Something was different, however, it felt wrong. He couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was, but the sensation made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He stood up as the couch beneath him began tremble, the wooden floorboards beneath his socks vibrating violently, it felt as if the whole building was being shaken apart. Was it an earthquake? Would his neighbors notice?

As he watched, the furniture that was on top of the chalk summoning circle began to move, like an unbalanced washing machine shaking its way across the floor. As the couch, the wooden coffee table and a lamp cleared the circle, the stink of sulfur permeated the air. This did not feel like Nahash, and Ryan darted across the room towards a table just below a nearby window where he had stored all of his summoning equipment. He picked up his improvised Solomonic Sexangle, still stapled to the bath robe's belt, tying the piece of card about his waist. He attached the sweatband that held the Ring of Solomon around his forehead and picked up the Pentagonal Figure, the ward that he had fashioned whose purpose was to protect him from errant demons.

He rushed over to the summoning circle and stepped into his protective triangle, trying to steady his shaking hands as he held up the Pentagon, waiting for whatever was coming through the breach to show itself to him.

The temperature continued to drop, but fortunately, the Ring of Solomon was warding off the foul smell. He watched with wide eyes as a formless mass appeared in the center of the summoning circle. It was blurry and constantly shifting, a heap of writhing flesh that was seen as if through frosted glass, dark shadows playing across the walls as if cast by some unseen fire. The air was thick with black smoke that further obscured his vision, and as he tried to bat away the fumes, he called out a command.

"Take form, demon," he shouted as he brandished the Sexangle that hung from his belt. "And none intended to offend or repulse!"

The dark fumes sped towards the poorly defined blob like filthy water rushing down a drain, the mass warping and twisting as it took shape. As the smog cleared Ryan saw a little horse sitting in the circle, roughly the size of a small dog, staring at him with its large eyes.

"Orobas?" Ryan asked, recognizing the creature.

"Why arte thou surprised?" it asked, it's voice croaky and faint. "Thou hast given me license to appear before thee."

"You surprised me is all," Ryan stammered, still shaken by the sudden house call. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"The contract is complete," Orobas wheezed, staring at him with those wet eyes. The miniature horse looked sickly, as if it was on death's door and couldn't stand, and its expression conveyed some deep misery that made it unpleasant to look at for too long.

"Oh, the contract? That's good news, but how did you determine that?"

"Vague as thy requests were," Orobas answered with palpable annoyance, "I have fulfilled the requirements of our contract. Thy livelihood is secure and thou art happy, the familiar has informed me of this."

"The familiar? You mean Nahash? She told you that I was happy?"

Was he happy? Introspection was not one of his strong suits, it could be so hard to determine one's own emotional state. But the more that he thought about it, the more correct the evaluation seemed. He no longer pined for Becky, his drought of sex and intimacy had ended explosively, and for the first time since he had broken up with her, he no longer felt that sickening knot in his stomach. He must be over Becky. In fact, he hadn't even thought about her in days, his breakup with her seemed so distant and trivial now. Nahash was his focus, those three mundane years with his human partner had lost their significance in a single night, and his burgeoning romance with the Seirim had indeed turned his life around.

"Thy contract has been fulfilled as it was defined," Orobas repeated, "do not forget thy oath to me. Two score and ten more tin plates, my sigil engraved upon them, spread far and wide so that they will be seen by many."

"Yes," Ryan replied, "I remember the deal. But what about Nahash, the familiar? Will I see her again?"

"Not through my power," the demon answered.

"What does that mean?" Ryan asked, a hint of fear entering his voice. "If you take Nahash away from me, then I won't be happy anymore. Won't that violate the terms of the contract?"

"Do not attempt to reinterpret the terms of a contract already agreed upon," Orobas hissed, its voice menacing. "I have dealt with thee fairly, I have uttered no falsehoods, and I have made no attempts to deceive thee. Now make good thy promise."

"Not until you tell me what will happen to Nahash," Ryan said, holding up the Sexangle. The little creature recoiled before the ward as if it was radiating a powerful heat that only the demon could feel. "Obey me, Orobas, into the triangle with you."

It didn't move, and so he brandished the Sexangle again, pointing towards the containment triangle that was drawn on the floor in chalk. The demon finally gave in, rising unsteadily on spindly legs that looked wholly unfit to support its bulbous head, struggling over to the triangle like a dog that had just been chastised. It glanced at him resentfully, the Sexangle compelling it to obey his commands and the Triangle of Solomon serving to protect him from anything that it might try to pull. It was a kind of cosmic naughty-chair, and the creature seemed to loathe being confined to it.

"Now tell me," Ryan continued, his voice commanding. "What will become of Nahash?"

"Thy meddling will bear fruit," it spat, "thou shalt rouse Azazel and the Seirim will flock to him. Thou hast cost a great number of demons their valued minions, this course of action was ill-advised. Were I not bound to thee by contract, I would have intervened, but that which has not yet been decided cannot be foreseen."

"I thought that the Seirim were a drain on your resources, aren't you glad that I'm restoring them?"

"They art powerful spirits, primordial avatars of nature, valued for their unique abilities and not easy to replace."

"So what, I'm on Hell's shitlist?"

"Thou shalt carry favor with Azazel, he may protect thee from reprisals...or he may not. Thou didst not form a contract with him, and I cannot be sure how he will react."

"Because it hasn't been decided yet, right."

The wretched little horse watched him for a moment with its glassy eyes, waiting for him to continue, but he was lost in thought. He might have accidentally pissed off the entire hierarchy of Hell, and though it seemed unlikely that they would waste valuable resources on reprisals, having a demon as powerful as some that were described in the Goetia even be aware of your existence was reason enough to be worried. But if that was the price of Nahash's freedom, then so be it.

"Wilst thou honor thy bargain?" Orobas asked.

"Yes, of course. I'll even do you one better. I've learned some stuff about sigils since the contract was made. You'll get more than what was agreed upon, you did more for me than I could ever have imagined."

"Then I shall take my leave of thee," the creature said.

Ryan tried to remember some of the incantations that he had printed out upon the first summoning, at least wanting to make an attempt at following proper procedure.

"Go now peaceably, with blessings and thanks."

Orobas closed its large eyes and bowed its head, vanishing from the triangle and from Ryan's mind as if a hand had reached down and plucked it out of reality. The air cleared of the stinking fumes and Ryan felt safe enough to remove his headband, only a hint of sulfur lingering after the demon's departure.

That was it then, the contract had been completed, and it hadn't even cost him his soul. Now he just had to get those tin plates engraved with Orobas' sigil and spread them around. Who knew, maybe it would tie into the myth that he was trying to start. He had something bigger planned for Orobas too, and though his activities were starting to border on vandalism, he owed it to the demon. It had been true to its word, it had saved him from the brink of destitution, and it had even found a way to cure his depression.

Had Orobas known that Ryan would fall in love with Nahash? Had it all been part of the plan? The demons were playing a chess game where Ryan couldn't see all of the pieces on the board, he could only guess at their true intentions. Perhaps losing a valuable servant was worth the tradeoff in energy that it would gain from the contract. It might even have been intentional sabotage, who knew how these demons interacted with each other, what terms they were on and how their society functioned.