Read your Contracts

"I wonder if this is what it's like to have a little sister." She kissed the hair between Memi's horns. "Sorry, It's been an emotional few days."

Memirellin wriggled free, then pulled her hood up over her horns and wrapped her tail a few times around her stomach to hide it. "He isn't my boyfriend. He is my mother's slave, a pet. One does not court one's food, or would you marry a steer?"

Laura laughed uncomfortably and Memi unaccountably felt a pang of guilt in her chest.

"Why don't you just transform?" Laura said. "Like, when you were fucking my pig of a father, weren't you shaped like me?"

"And how do you intend to pay for my arcane knowledge?" Memi sneered.

Laura shrugged. "If you take money, the pig's wallet is wide open."

"Don't do that!" Memi shocked them both, even herself with her outburst. She shrank into herself. "Humans promise so much, then they are surprised when demons take them for all they're worth. What you just said would have entitled me to take everything, to leave you destitute. Just pay me with a kiss or something..."

As if she'd been waiting for just that, Laura spun the demon in place and bore down upon her with a breathless kiss that left Memi speechless.

"Maybe I should have lent you a toothbrush too." Laura licked her lips, the taste of cum in Memi's mouth surely settling on her tongue. She laughed, rather than become disgusted, and Memi soon joined her. "So?"

Memirellin had begun showing herself off in a nearby mirror, jealous that the human had grown out of the clothes she wore. "So what?" She said.

"Weren't you going to tell me why you can't transform like you did when the pig summoned you?"

Memi considered the damage the information could possibly do against the value of Laura's kiss. So long as she didn't delve into the metaphysics, she decided there wasn't much danger.

"It isn't that I can't." Memi said. "Demons aren't allowed to do anything on earth unless given permission from a resident, typically a human. I was able to take your shape then because there was no other way to complete my contract with that man."

"You don't have any powers here unless you get permission?"

"I have them. I can't use them to further my own goals. For about the same reason, I can't enter sanctified grounds." Unsatisfied with the coverage the hoodie gave her horns, Memi fussed with it. "Even forming a body on this plane would be nearly impossible for most demons unless summoned. Unless they came as an imp."

Laura pulled down the hood and poked Memirellin's horns through a bandanna. "There, that should work. We shouldn't keep your boyfriend waiting too long."

"He isn't my boyfriend."

"Sure, sure." Laura winked and Memirellin chose to let her get away with it.

-

It felt strange to be clothed after so long,even if Harry had been given a suit worn by the pathetic man and had to wear them like a circus tent. And he didn't get to have his first conversation with another human being in a week, the man still kept his panty-gag through getting a car for them and waiting to serve as their driver. Despite the clear lack of respect aimed his way by the women, Harry couldn't help but see Memi in his brow-beaten face.

But before his curiosity peaked and he would decide to pull the gag out to speak with the man, Memi and the daughter came out and sandwiched him in the back seat. And they were off.

Memi shrank away, pressed against Harry by lack of space, and rested her head against the window. Glowing with happiness, the daughter hugged his arm and seemed to be trying to lean him into Memi.

"So? How long have you two been dating?" Laura asked to an angry sigh from Memi.

"We aren't. I'm a slave."

"Ha!" Laura smacked her father's head. "The pig is a slave. I've only known you two for half an hour and I know there's something there."

Memirellin spoke with a weak, broken voice. "Stop it. He belongs to somebody else. Even If I loved him... nothing could come of it."

Laura knowingly patted Harry on the leg and they all, especially the father, spent the rest of the trip in silence.

-

Auntie Blackrod's adult magic shop looked like the sort of place that would sell healing crystals and incense, but also the sort of neon-signed adult store advertised on the side of freeways. The glass was dark enough and the lighting inside dim enough that nothing could be seen more than a few feet inside. With only the intel that could be beaten out of Laura's father in the parking lot, Harry and Memirellin entered.

Across from the jingling door, a stick-thin, bespectacled woman in a witch hat sat reading a book behind a counter. She raised her head enough to make it look like she saw the two but keep reading.

"Welcome. Feel free to browse; I can help with higher priced items and specialty orders." The witch said.

Harry approached the desk with stress choking him to the witch's obvious consternation.

"Yes, I wanted to buy some of those demon-summoning cards I've heard about..." Harry, according to the plan, was to grab the girl as soon as the cards' location was revealed so Memirellin could snatch them all up.

But the witch didn't stir from her seat. "Are you sure that's what you want, sir? We have all sorts of products, would you like to take a look at our catalogue before making your choice?"

"I'm sure."

The witch stood herself up abruptly and waved her hand in Memi's direction, where the demon stiffened. Having been in the middle of stalking to the witch's side, she toppled over.

"Here's the thing," The witch tucked her book away. "We do work with the other side, so we can't put up a ward as a matter of course. But also, we do have detectors. Sir, would you like to explain or would you rather I banish you both?"

Harry bent to see Memirellin seething on the floor, frozen in an awkward position. "Sorry, looks like the plan is fucked." He said while the witch waited for his reply. "It seems that your company made a deal with my friend that is making her life much harder. She's getting summoned several times a day and we would like it to stop, please."

"Is that Ashen Memory?"

"What?"

The witch pinched her nose in thought. "Memirellin?" Harry nodded. "Okay." She waved her hand again and Memi scrambled up to Harry's side.

Face to face with her enemy, but powerless to threaten them, Memirellin roiled with inexpressible rage.

Harry decided that trying basic courtesy was worth it. "Is there anything you can do for us? Like, can we buy out the contract or something?"

"Unnecessary." The witch sat back down. "We haven't made any more of that product in the last decade. Frankly, we keep getting complaints about it because, miss, you kept twisting their words until they, at best, get an unsatisfying sexual experience. So we did the first printing of those cards and we've been selling those off since."

Memi's face twisted in confusion. "What? How many of those damn things did you make?"

"First of all, I was not employed at the time. But I hear we got a volume discount from the printers, so we made fifteen-thousand of them."

After some mental math, Memirellin pounded on the desk. "Are you telling me there are seven thousand fuck tickets still floating around with my name on them!?"

"I'm afraid so. We do still have a few hundred if you want those." She pulled from an unseen drawer two thick stacks of cards kept together with rubber bands. "That would come to a total of forty dollars."

Memi seemed too sad to cry over it and meekly paid from an atm outside.

As they turned to leave, Memi stopped and thrust a hundred dollar bill into Harry's hands.

"Buy something for yourself. I don't want anyone to say I owe you for this." She said and went outside to wait.

The witch gestured him over, took his money, and passed over a little roll of paper. "Trust me, this will come in handy later Harry."

"Did I tell you my name?"

Harry disappeared in a puff of sulphur before he could get an answer.

-

The awaited party came after an uncomfortable night for Harry in the demoness Fyellene's arms. Her true nature as a slaver, an abuser, and a rapist revealed in the last week left him with a bad taste in his mouth. To make it worse, he was too fearful of her punishments to say anything.

Throughout the night veiled servants worked to light up the main hall in festive colors in preparation for hosting the expected menagerie of Fye's guests. Mainly the many banners were in red and white, blood and ash, And Harry wondered what demons celebrated.

Being supplied with a formal robe, Harry's questions as to his responsibilities were met with little to no elaboration. He went along under the assumption that he would be passed around like a party favor among the guests.

The idea would have been appealing a week ago, but now he had to steel his nerves even to think about it.

Memirellin moped about in an outfit of carefully tied leather straps, mourning the loss of her next decade if her summoning papers continued to be used at their current rate. It was heart-wrenching to see how she let her tail drag behind her, the passion dead in her eyes.

She was dissonant to the mood as servants dodged her wandering, setting up a stage for entertainment, carrying ingredients to the kitchen where an incredible fragrance wafted out. It didn't seem that she was trying to get in their way, which would be in character, but that she didn't know what to do with herself.

Though Harry's chest hurt, stress building in anticipation of his incipient defilement, he thought that complaining to her would be selfish. He found a corner out of the way and let the party come into existence around him.

As the musicians tuned their instruments, the first guests arrived to the announcement of a servant at the door. The creature that slithered inside was twice the size of a man, with the lower body of a slug and four heaving breasts each the size and colour of a blue ribbon watermelon. Her clothing was nothing but a bit of paint on each palm-sized nipple.

Along with this guest was a human man in a leather hood and a thong being pulled by a leash his master held by her pinky.

She spotted Harry and slithered up, her slimy path cleaned as soon as it was made by Fyellene's servants.

"Boy." She bellowed down to him. "Please do watch my pet while I do some business. Or should I tie him down to a post somewhere?"

Harry's guts did a backflip as her smell soured the air, but did his best not to show it. The demon could have crushed his head in one hand.

"Yes, I can keep him company for a while." Harry said.

She only nodded, passed him the leash, and patted her slave on the head before squelching away.

"Wanna take a seat with me?" Harry said. The man agreed, but his face was covered in black leather so if he was relieved to be free of that monster for a minute he didn't show it.

"Are you a human?" The man spoke through a series of pinpricks in the mask.

"Yeah. Are you alright buddy?"

"Alright?" The hooded man shrugged. "I'm doing great. Got to go for a walk today and not just around mistress' estate. I'm having a pretty swell day."

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely. Usually about this time I'm stirring the vats, so coming out to a party in very nice. Though my shoulder blades are burning something fierce. How 'bout yourself my man? Personal pet of lady Fyellene, I hear you have a pretty sweet gig."

"People talk about me?"

"Sure, sure. She's pretty big in the supply side, so everybody talks behind her back, you know how it is with success. She gets lots of crap for how her daughter is a raging bitch, how she's soft on humans."

Harry restrained himself from a heated reply. The man couldn't see that Memi was literally sitting against the opposite wall, face buried in her knees.

"So, how did you get got?" The hooded man asked.

"The contract was buried inside an end user licensing agreement. Nobody reads those things."

"Tricked then? That's rough buddy. Don't worry, a few years in and you'll forget all about earth. I mean, what's even up there that a man needs? Now me, I summoned lady Farqas myself, signed on for a big payday and a year later I'm down here. Know what, a million bucks can't buy you this kind of happiness."

"What?"

"Yup, if I'd known how much I'd like it down here, forget about the money, just take me!" He cackled as much as his restricted air flow would let him.

Harry decided to write the guy off as crazy or brainwashed and did his best to ignore the erection growing out of the man's tiny thong.

There was a sound like a flipped car skidding to a stop and Memi shot to her feet, retreated out of sight. The reason came through the door moments later.

This demon had a body like a champion bodybuilder and was covered from his draconic head to his taloned feet with fine, white scales. His wings peaked far over his head and his every step gouged the stonework. His breaths were hot steam pressed through a forest of tusks and fangs.

And he was holding a present wrapped in pink paper.

While watching this new guest, Harry noticed it was headed straight for him and considered running. Not that there was anywhere to run.

"You, man." The demon said, his voice like sandpaper on chalkboard. "I have business with the apprentice. Take me to her."

The size of the demon, so close that Harry could feel the heat radiating off it, sent urgent danger signals to the oldest parts of his brain. But he stood tall, if only to the demon's nipple line.

"Can I ask why you need her?"

A heavy, clawed hand bore down on Harry's shoulder. "I will speak with her."

Harry stoked his anger to respond, just beating out fear for the moment. "Are you my master!? Get your damn hands off me unless you want to anger Fyellene!"

The realization that he was stuck between this mass of muscle and a stone wall set in as Harry threatened the demon. He closed his eyes and knew that in a moment he would either be alive or dead.

A tense few seconds passed until the demon threw its head back in laughter that caused a momentary pause in the work being done around them. The clawed hand clapped Harry's shoulder.

"So you are the one Meliza told me about." The demon laughed again. "But I do have business with the girl, so drop your insolence before I commit to finding recompense for your corpse to the lady of the house. Take me to Memirellin."

"...Fine."

She wasn't in her room, the library, or the bath. After exhausting the rooms Harry had been let into, the demon asked a servant and they were guided to a wing he hadn't been allowed to enter before.

The servants here did not wear veils and Harry was exposed to such gruesome visages that if her weren't already in the presence of a genuine threat, they might have set him running. They went about their work apparently assuming that anyone who made it back here was supposed to be here, though what they were actually doing was shrouded behind Harry's lack of alchemical or arcane knowledge.

Memi herself was found on a balcony, looking out at the blasted landscape with her head in her hands. The demon Harry had guided went to her and she knelt in his presence.

"I hear you have lost your maidenhead. Congratulations." The demon said. "In time, I am certain that you will understand the value in your mother's work. I will watch your career with great interest."

Memirellin nodded, her eyes turned to the floor.

With this short exchange, the demon turned and left Memi with Harry. The scraping of his talons across the stonework faded at about the same time music began wafting out from the main hall. Nobody pulled Harry away, so he took a place on the railing, looking out over a plain of wind-blasted, red rock.

Memi sighed at his side. "I can't remember the last time he spoke more than four sentences to me..."

"Who was that?"

"My father." Memi folded herself over the railing to stretch. "He works in the seventh circle, and I was supposed to share time with him and my mother as an apprentice. When those witches tricked me, I couldn't work down there anymore."

Harry tried and failed to remember reading the inferno. "What does he do?"

Memi smiled and her tail thrashed in the air. "In the desert, it constantly rains flakes of flame that burns the damned souls wandering the sands for eternity. My father flies around the outskirts and blasts with flame any soul that tries to escape, drags them back to their torture. Very respectable work, punishing sinners, and he's one of the best!" She was bouncing on her heels now, and her swishing tail would have made it dangerous to stand behind her. "It's so cool! You have no idea how fun it is to ride those updrafts, or diving onto an unsuspecting soul. And I may never be able to do it again..." She drooped, her tail dragged behind her again.

It was the first time he'd seen her genuinely happy, and not in a sadistic way. Perhaps there was a sadistic motivation behind it too, but the way she tittered about flight made it clear she loved it.

"You can fly?" He said. It wasn't what he wanted to say, but asking what he wanted to would have likely angered her.

Memi arched her back and big, white-scaled, bat-like wings emerged from her back. She spun in place and spread her wings to present them.

"You're beautiful." Harry blurted out.

Her eyes went wide and she retracted her wings, bashfully turned her back to him.

"We should go to the party. Mother will want me to make an appearance." She slunk that direction, but at least her tail was lifted off the ground.

The stomach-curdling menagerie of demonic flesh that waited in the main hall made itself known well in advance by a cacophony of squelching and claw against stone. But aside from their horrific appearances, it felt like stepping into a gathering of politicians. Fyellene, holding a real drink for once, beckoned Harry to her side as she talked with the slug woman.

"It has never been easier." Fyellene said. "They've been conditioned to simply presume the intentions of overly long contracts. The only time I can remember it being easier to seal a deal was back before most humans could read. They considered it useless, remember?"

A servant caught her attention with a signal and the band quieted to a whisper.

All eyes were on their host.

"Thank you all for coming today to celebrate the birth of my only daughter." She held Harry tightly as a spotlight illuminated Memirellin. "Please, eat, drink, enjoy yourselves."

Fyellene let the party commence with that short introduction and pulled Harry away from the thunderous revelry suggesting they had been holding back before. They retreated to their shared bedroom, where she gently pushed him onto the bed and began unfastening his buttons.

It wasn't unusual for her to crave physical contact, but this felt different. She pulled his formal getup apart and dropped it to the side, then knelt at his feet, parting his legs.

"Tell me," She kissed his thigh. "Have you learned your lesson? Ready to be obedient?"

"You're a monster." Harry said, surprising himself.

"So you have learned your lesson." Fyellene laughed and kissed the curse mark she'd left on his belly, causing it to fade away.

Immediately, his cock sprang out of its long slumber fully rested and ready to take charge. His head felt hot and fuzzy and before he knew it, his fingers were tangled in Fyellene's hair, pulling her into his crotch, his cock slapping against her cheek.

His body tried to move on its own. Every fiber of his being screamed to ravish her here and now, to throw caution aside and thrust past any resistance. But he managed to pry his fingers out of Fyellene's dark hair with visions of her luscious, red lips wrapped around the base of his cock still rattling around his head.

"You can still resist? No small wonder, I only suppressed a week's worth of libido." She slithered up his body, pushing him to lie back in bed. Her heavy breasts lay invitingly on his chest begging to rest in his palms.