Read your Contracts 04.3

(Pt4 contains, eventually, debatable and non-debatable NC, anal, both male and female gay sex, gender transformation, femdom, pegging, bondage, urophagia, and incest. Reader discretion is appreciated. Thank you for your interest.)

Chapter 07

-

Campaigning: incredibly boring yet instructive. Memi went as Laura's date - though they pretended to be mere friends for whatever reason Laura had - to each of the father's events, rallies and dinners primarily. The man was at least a more competent politician than he was a father; his rhetoric inflamed the hearts and minds of those who heard it, despite being a rapid-fire barrage of meaningless and unachievable axioms. He was of a political party, and Memi knew there was some substance to his speeches vis-a-vis policy, but it was hard to see the fruits before they came to be.

Really, democracy itself was a weird pill to swallow for the demoness. Whatever had been wrong with feudalism? Yes, yes, the serfs had revolted... Nevertheless, she kept her mouth shut while sitting with Laura and whoever the 'who's who' of the day was (this time it was the police chief); the politics of Hell, such as they could be called that, were separated on several levels from those on Earth and who could tell which was better until the end of time when the scores were finally tallied up? So long as they did not harm her or Hairy, Memi listened with only one ear to the voice of the people.

"Don't you think so?" A woman, the police chief's wife, thought herself kind for trying to involve Memi in their conversation, and Memi, being unusually kind for her own kind, did not hurl an abuse her way for the imposition. "Don't you think it should be illegal?"

Memi glanced at Laura who helpfully turned her thumb down below the edge of the table. "No," Memi said, "I think that sort of thing should be a personal decision."

A couple of laughs, one by Laura into her water glass.

"We were talking about tax fraud, dearie." The woman jittered with the effort not to laugh in Memi's face. "Not too interesting to someone your age, is it?"

"Back in my day, we used to hang tax collectors." Memi said it and smiled as if it were a joke and so it brought another round of laughter.

The woman said, "It would be a bit harder to do that nowadays, too many necks and not enough rope!" A little more laughter, the joke hadn't been all that funny in the first place and couldn't stretch much further.

Yet... "Don't be silly, all of them have intestines." Dead silence followed by some polite, forced chuckling.

Laura put a hand on Memi's leg to silence her, the woman had been hiding a smile behind the rim of her glass. At least someone was enjoying themselves. "In any case, thank you both for making the time to come in support of my father. I know you have busy schedules, but he was so glad to see your names on the guest list after all." That was a bald-faced lie; not only did the man not remember the name of this place's police chief, neither had he more than glanced at the list of guests to ensure he didn't embarrass himself by not knowing someone important. See also: he hadn't taken the time to come to the table and personally thank them, he was too busy schmoozing with the district attorney and a judge in the other corner of the banquet hall. The assumption was that he'd get there eventually as he ran the marathon around the room. "There hasn't been an update on that one case, has there? I don't mean to bring up an uncomfortable topic, but I can't help being curious."

Memi's sharp ears perked up (How humans didn't notice her pointed ears even though she had to hide her horns and tail was beyond her but welcome).

"I'm afraid I can't comment on it at this stage of the investigation."

The safest possible answer, Memi's ears dropped and she touched Laura's arm. "Would you mind if I went for a little walk?"

"I suppose I could stretch my legs."

"No, I'd... actually prefer being alone for a minute, please." The crowd was getting to her more than she had realized it would. Back home she'd only ever been in the presence of so many when there was an actual reason for them being there and the constant smalltalk made the air feel stagnant. Not the least of the problem was her position as Schrodinger's eye candy for a woman who didn't quite want to appear publicly gay; it might have been easier to bear if Hairy was there to cling to...

Graciously, Laura smiled and went back to her conversation, allowing Memi to retreat out into the vestibule.

Just outside the main hall, the air cleared up considerably. She was in good company with those others who had become free social atoms: a man who was in too full a suit to be comfortable, dabbing his neck with a handkerchief, and a woman who stared intently at her phone for unknowable and uninteresting reasons. It happily occurred to Memi that she hadn't immediately classified these two as threats the way she might have done just a relative blink in time before. The man looked a bit like Hairy, if he became wider and lost his adorable face and chopped off his curly hair... actually the man looked very little like Hairy...

There was a small attached bar at the venue that Memi gravitated to for lack of a better place to sit. She took a booth seat and put her head back against the cool, wooden backboard to close her eyes and rest. No, Laura was a comfort, but she wasn't enough to replace him. Stupid! Memi had known all along that she would hate being separated from her master for so long and she'd gone anyway in a bout of pique she had no rightful claim to. When she got home, she planned to push him straight into bed without a word of explanation or apology then fuck him to her heart's content, then further to his; if Satilli had returned by then, she'd be pulled in with the flow and wouldn't leave again without being turned into a sloppy mess first, and maybe Laura too...

She took a deep breath. It wouldn't do to get herself worked up without any kind of release valve in sight. Laura wouldn't like to be pulled away into a nearby closet to get messed up, not when she might be called on at any time to give her father the edge of a so-called family man in his hand-shaking. But Memi was still happy, in a way, that she was properly horny. For decades... she'd had orgasms while serving those men of course, the body does as it pleases no matter what the mind thinks of it, but that whole time she'd never thought of a man and had the urge to slip her hand under her skirt... Not until Hairy...

"Miss, did you want to order?" The barman, having nobody to serve somehow, had come around to her table personally.

"I don't have my I.D. with me," she said. That would have to be remedied at some point, go through her contacts to have documents prepared. "So... a virgin Pink Lady, please."

He nodded and was off.

That was nice, having humans displaying servility. Mother had human slaves, Memi knew, just none at the main house. The woman said it was because Memi had despised them viscerally for so long, but the fact remained that demon slaves were better for clout. Everybody had human souls enslaved, that was part of being a demon (of course, there were layers upon layers of enslavement. Even an imp might find themselves with some lesser human souls under their control). Though the barman wasn't a slave, she reminded herself to avoid a potentially embarrassing remark.

The man who came with her drink was not the barman, and he was holding his own as well. He sat down across from Memi and offered the Pink Lady in an attractively-curvaceous glass.

"You don't mind if I join you, right?" he said. It was an older man, hair greying but full, and he looked like he must have worked out when he was young and rode on his previous gains. Of course, he was not Hairy and thus his appearance, pleasing or decidedly not, was hardly relevant.

Conscious of the fact that she was seen as part of that man's entourage for the night, and more importantly Laura's, Memi smiled at the interloper on her isolation. "You may."

"I don't care for these large gatherings either," he said. "I feel like the strength of my positions and my record should be enough to garner votes, but you know that the people like to feel like you're there and listening to them on the ground level so there's nothing to be done about it. It's at least good practice for sitting with officials who'll actually care if you try to dip out in the middle." He wore a smile, very well practiced and very obviously to one who had gone through some of the most strenuous acting lessons available in Hell. This was a politician, and this was a politician who wanted something that he wasn't willing to come out and say, and Memi, without a hint of pride, was the most attractive woman present at the event (Laura excluded for lovers of large breasts).

Unfortunately, saying she had a boyfriend likely would be both too aggressive and not aggressive enough. "I do prefer more intimate gatherings with my friends or none at all."

"I'm sure, I'm sure. The noise in there must be hard on your ears."

Memi looked up at him, he was still smiling the exact same way. The man's thoughts were impenetrable. She was able to stop herself reflexively touching her pointed ear without even her finger twitching off her glass. To appear like she hadn't heard anything out of the ordinary, she sipped the pink thing. "It's hard to breathe."

"Yes, the air does get pretty stuffy. At least it's not as hot as it is back home, eh?"

"My home is rather temperate, actually... Who did you say you were?"

"I didn't." He offered his hand to shake and introduced himself. "Marco Esposito." A couple seconds waited for recognition that did not come. "The mayor, you see?"

Memi quietly, sweetly smiled. "Do you really have extra time to be talking with some random girl who isn't even eligible to vote for you?"

"I can always make time for old friends."

She very nearly revealed claws and reached over the table to tear his throat out, but instead clenched a fist beneath the table and sipped her drink. "One of them, then?" One of the multitude of bastards who had engaged in her services while she was still trapped within that witch's contract, she should have known that a large number of them were politicians given how expensive her summoning spell card had been.

"You remember me, that warms an old man's heart."

"Do not overestimate yourself, there are precious few humans who would be capable of picking me out of a crowd, while in this form no less. I'm not interested in any sort of reunion, your life is protected through my master's grace so go with gratitude before its measure is spent."

He did not, taking a drag off his drink. "You're working for someone else now? Too bad, I was going to offer you a deal like the one we had years ago. It's strange, how well I remember those days for how fleeting they were, you were so absolutely adorable... I went back to that shop, or I thought I would, but I wasn't able to find it again."

"I will add the disappearance to the list of favors that one has done for me. The balance continues to drop toward vengeance but that is neither here nor there. So, you have continued in your profession despite the knowledge of Hell's existence as a pure fact; it is always interesting how deeply and thoroughly humans will damn themselves for carnal pleasures. Either way, leave me."

She began standing up and he caught her by the arm. Once more, Hairy's grace saved the man's arm from being sheared off at the shoulder and Memi only pulled herself free. The barman shot her a meaningful glance, that he would intervene if she wished, but she subtly shook her head. It wouldn't do to trouble Laura with this stain of a man. She sat back down and lifted her half-emptied glass in a sign to the barman to top her off, then a hooked finger to place her drinks on the politician's tab.

"Speak."

Marco smiled wide. "If there is no chance of taking you for myself entirely-"

"There is not, consider your next words carefully."

"-then I would be content with reminiscence."

Memi shrugged. "That is all? Think and remember as you like, nobody will stop you."

"That isn't what I meant," he said. "Am I right that-"

-

Memirellin had been summoned in her sleep, dragged through space from the comfort of her bed into the magic circle drawn onto the ground that was too small for her to lie down within. She was dropped carelessly onto hard wood from a foot up, snarling and snapping as she felt out the situation and boiled off drowsiness. It had happened before, happened most days, so when she saw the summoner standing next to the circle with the ash of her summoning mark still wafting out of his grasp, she slammed her claws into the side of the ward and was pleased by the way the bastard jumped. She wouldn't be able to break the circle, not the way it was designed by that witch for use by the most incapable hack magicians.

A dark-haired man with much the same complexion as the bath attendant back home. Memirellin deigned not separate the races of men, they would all burn for all she cared. He stood in the dark of an underground space without an apparent door in the light of a circle of candles (not beeswax, the only type which would have mattered). Though he hid it well, he was frightened by the attempt on his life; so many more humans would have been forced onto their asses by such a shock, no matter how safe they'd been assured they would be.

"Human," Memirellin hissed through long, sharp fangs, "for what reason have you summoned me!?" As if the last few hundred hadn't set the standard perfectly well.

"I-" His voice broke and he took a moment to clear his throat. "I have, um..." He checked a pocketed card. "Called you here to be my consort. You shall do my bidding."

Memirellin sat cross-legged within the small circle with her barbed tail wrapped around her. "I am required by contract to provide one sexual service. What do you wish of me?"

"Heh, become my concubine and provide unto me whenever I ask!" Again, from the card, obviously written by someone who a: hadn't actually contracted with a demon and b: thought they were being clever.

She smiled. "No."

"Wait, what?" He stumbled back, but his cue card wouldn't provide any further guidance. "I'm sorry, I thought you were supposed to do whatever I wanted?"

"I must provide one sexual service, the form of such is not provided for in my contract. Obviously you shan't obtain a lifetime of service for the mere cost of summoning! Choose something more reasonable." Memi had almost perfected her plan over the years; humans were notorious for not thinking through what they actually said and asked for, they always added clauses that in their mind should have been inferred, but of course an unwritten contract is worth the paper it's written on. This single stumbling block had until this point absolutely protected her virginity. "I'll fuck you anally, if that will satisfy you." An old standard, men had assholes too and they hardly bothered to remember the fact.

"Ah, no, I don't think so..." he said, holding his chin in thought. "What did the last guy ask for?"

"Do you actually expect free information from a demon?"

"Oh, I see, so how much to know what you'll accept?"

For something that invaluable... "Your firstborn."

"That's a joke."

"It was mockery."

"How long do I have to make a deal?"

Memirellin poked the ward. "I cannot leave until I have fulfilled my contract. Though... staying here until your life ends may also work."

"... Fine then... how about you just play with one of my toys for a while and then you can go home? I won't even touch you the whole time."

"You just want me to use a sex toy?" She narrowed her eyes.

"Yes, a dildo."

"That's really it?"

"Is that a no?"

She laughed, walking through the ward as a new contract existed between her and the man... the laughing stopped as she entered the next room with him and saw the fantastical device itself.

"You call this thing a dildo!?" she yelled. "Then what the fuck are those straps, and the things hanging up there!?"

He went up to the thing and pointed out its features. "So you've got the wooden horse, right, and your ankles will be strapped to the weights down here, but then you've got the machine dildo underneath and the strops up above. I paid a whole lot for this masterpiece. So, I don't believe you're allowed to welch, is that right?"

Memirellin glared at him the whole time as she mounted the device and sank down onto just the head of the thick dildo sticking up from the hole in the angled wood. It felt like something from her mother's dungeon, moreso even when the man, careful not to actually touch her and accidentally break their contract, strapped her ankles to heavy weights that forbade her from moving off the angle of the wooden contraption. She winced despite her training, supported herself as well as she could with her arms as the weight pressed her pelvis hard onto the wood.

"By the way," he said, "this thing actually has a two-day battery. Don't be afraid to cum as many times as you want."

"What!?"

She wasn't able to protest further before the dildo slammed itself up into her cunt, driving her up and off the wooden horse only to come back down onto the edge with hip-shaking force when it receded into its little hole for another thrust. Two fucking days! She knew that she wouldn't last the entire time without being split in half if she let the dildo push her up like it had every time, so she focused on letting the entire length of thick rubber spread her open and slip into her insides to reduce the impact.

While she was distracted, the summoner clicked restraints onto her wrists that were immediately reeled up on a cable. Fully stretched out, Memi was pierced from below without being able to resist it at all; she felt as the rubber cock spurted with lube from dozens of tiny holes that coated the inside of her cunt, overfilling it such that it immediately splashed out onto her thighs. She ground her teeth to stop a growling moan from deep within, but she could tell from the smug look on the summoner's face that she hadn't been completely successful.

She felt so exposed, her belly spread and small breasts bouncing as the dildo slammed into her faster and faster. It hardly mattered that she was even on a wooden horse for the angle of the dildo never allowed it to press into her groin. The restraints on her wrists were too tight to free herself from without violating the contract by taking her pussy off the dildo. Her mother would not care that she had been deceived into more than what she expected; moreover, Fyelline would see it as an excuse to increase Memi's daily exercises, perhaps beginning with an even more dreadful device than the one she was currently bound to.

It was fucking her too fast, thudding against her flesh with the slimy popping and sloshing of lube ringing in her ears. An orgasm was coming, Memi acknowledged it through the agony. Her nipples hardened in anticipation and her breath grew ragged; the dildo was using her diaphragm as a drum, and her ribs already ached. The pace of the dildo slamming inside her might as well have replaced the beat of her own heart, she could nearly hear the rush of her blood, hot against her skin.

It was coming faster... She couldn't have stopped it any more than she could have urged it on. The orgasm came around a corner and hit her like a punch to the face.

She felt herself convulsing on her perch, losing what little balance she'd had as the agonizing pleasure shot from curling toes to the agonized moan that ripped itself from her lips while the dildo ceaselessly pumped thick, creamy lube inside her with its every thrust. It kept going long past when orgasm overstayed its welcome and faded into naught but a hollowed-out ache, and then the summoner pressed a button that made the dildo slow to a stop, still pinning her to the spot by her sore and soggy pussy.