Sex is a Job Description? Ch. 07

Dereza's eyes sucked Tom into a place that he couldn't find on his own, and his eyelids slowly began to fall closed. He began to drift away from himself, slowly losing the deeper thoughts and awareness in his mind. Further...further...blinding...

The agent suddenly found himself lying on top of Dereza, his arms slack and hands still gripping her wrists. Their sexes still yearned for more, even as the last few convulsions from both of them waned and their orgasms faded with decreasing intensity.

Neither moved, out of sheer exhaustion and fatigue. They panted without words, Tom listening to her racing heartbeat and feeling his own between his ears. He was sore already, and his arms trembled at the exertion of holding onto Dereza's wrists. He had to make a conscious effort to remember how to let go of her, and his hands went slack.

Dereza draped her arm across his back and chuckled to herself for a moment, panting all the while. She regained her composure and then looked down at Tom, his head resting on her breasts.

"I shouldn't have let it go on so far," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "I lost control. I didn't have control. Nobody did at the end." She swallowed hard and continued to pant.

"That was great," Tom said, his cock still feeling a great deal of pleasure from his slowly fading orgasm.

"Do you even understand what just happened? I lost control," Dereza restated.

Tom shrugged weakly. "So did I."

"No, Tom, you don't get it. I lost control of myself. I tried to...I honestly tried to devour you whole." She gave it time to sink in with him. "And I almost succeeded."

Again, Tom shrugged. "So what stopped you?" he asked, still trying to regain his mental facilities after the intensity of it all.

"I just blanked. It hit me so hard I couldn't even find you in the end. I couldn't even think."

Tom grinned and raised his head so he could see Dereza's face. "So do I pass then?"

Dereza let her head fall back against the pillow behind her. "Yes Tom. You pass. Not good, not bad, but just enough. You definitely need more practice. We still have four days left."

Tom closed his eyes and faded quickly from consciousness. Dereza was one hell of a fuck. But he hoped he'd never have to take another lesson from her again. No matter how good the screw was, his soul was not on the line, not for anybody or anything. Not Dereza, not for Ceria, not for Veronica, not even for himself. And definitely not for sex, even sex that good.

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Tom sat on the end of his bed with his work phone held in his hands, a number dialed and needing only the 'send' button to call the Director and tell him what had happened. Ceria had forced herself on him with no paperwork, no warning, no nothing. And that, by itself, was enough to get her in a huge amount of trouble. This was Ceria though, so she'd probably be banished for it, no matter what the favors were that needed to be called in to do it.

He stared at his phone for a long time, trying to build up the courage to call the Director. He knew that as soon as he did, it was war. With the only demon he was truly afraid of. The only person in all three realms that had the power to put honest-to-God fear into Tom's heart. He trembled at the thought of calling his boss and stirring up that demon's ire.

She'd know, there was no doubt about it. She would know exactly who had gotten her banished to Hell. And she would be vindictive. Not just that; she would be much worse. She would devote herself to getting him back, in any way shape form or fashion, she would make sure he suffered for it.

No matter where he ran, where he hid or what he did to fight her off, she would come after him. And she would make him suffer.

Tom didn't fear death. Death was part of his life. His parents, his foster parents, coworkers, all of them had been in danger around him. Many of them had died. Death was not what he feared from Ceria, but suffering more, more than life had already doled out to him thus far. Nobody had been trying to make him suffer, but Ceria would. And she had the power to, he was convinced.

As powerful as she was, the power network she had established here was probably enormous, one that could see Tom brought to the lower ends of sanity, or worse, to Hell. She was sadistic and cruel, and it wouldn't just be him who was hurt. He couldn't bear it if she did anything to his friends. He'd lose it.

The agent closed his phone and sighed, tossing the device behind him on his bed.

Cruel, that's what Ceria was. Cruel and self-absorbed and plainly too interested in herself to possibly care about anyone other than herself or any desires but her own. He suddenly shuddered with fear and anxiety. A memory closed away resurged as he thought of the cruelty in Ceria's smile. His entire body flooded with childish, unexplained fear.

He began to weep silently as he watched in his mind's eye a cruel, fanged smile turn his direction, telling him that he was to blame and that his body would be the death of so many more to come. He watched his foster father, Jacob Talaky, have a clawed hand pulled through the side of his head, blood squirting out of the finger-deep rents in his face.

He wasn't dead though. Not yet, that would have been too merciful for this particular demon. She grabbed him by the neck, piercing his skin as her claws clenched shut slowly. Jacob's eyes rolled back in his head. The demon took her free hand and pushed her fingers through his head, dragging them down through his skull and across the side of his face.

Chunks of meat and brain matter and torrents of blood made a raindrop pitter-patter on the already blood-soaked floor. Tom watched in silent horror as his foster father died in front of him, his skull pulled open and everything inside picked apart and flicked about the dark, candlelit room like confetti.

The demon finished what she wanted to with his head by pulling it off his body, yanking half his spine out with it and tossing it into the next room without a second look. She ran two clawed fingers down the center of Jacob's corpse, tearing his plaid shirt like it was wet tissue. His skin parted just as easily, and she smiled at Tom again, nodding slowly, telling him that this was his fault.

She dug her hands into his chest and began to part his ribs from either side. Sickening pops and crunches assailed Tom's ears as Jacob's ribcage was torn apart, a red splatter of blood spraying across Tom's face. He sat there on the bloody carpet, hands bound and legs tied from foot to thigh, and could do nothing but stare.

The demon finally broke all of Jacob's ribs and reached into his torso, wrapping her delicate and deadly fingers around his heart, pulling it out. Arteries and veins tore and a fresh fountain of blood came out of his body, again, reminding Tom of raindrops on the wet carpet. The demon turned to Tom and smiled again, just as terrible and cruel as before, and gave the heart a little squeeze. Blood squirted out of every hole and she presented it to Tom like she was showcasing an expensive jewel.

She placed it at one of the points of a star she had drawn on the concrete where she had ripped up the carpet and painted it in his foster mother, Meridith's, blood. She surveyed her work carefully. Strange patterns and shapes adorned the space between two concentric circles and the five points of a star met the inner circle.

One two of the points now lay each of his foster parents' hearts. On two more lay two stones carved with symbols and words Tom hadn't ever seen before. The top of the star held a metal ring that the demon had heated to be hot enough to glow orange. When she was satisfied with her work, she turned toward Tom and strode over to him, tail flicking back and forth as she walked.

She knelt down before him and took him gently in her arms, telling him to hush and that it would all be over soon. She stood and easily cut through the ropes she had bound him with, the tip of her tail sliding easily through the rough fibers. She stepped into the middle of the pentagram with him in her arms.

He was too stunned to understand what was going on. His mind was a blank slate of images and rough ideas of emotion. He didn't even realize what was happening. The demon raised his head toward her lips and kissed his forehead softly, as softly as a mother would her newborn.

"Remember this day, dear child, as it is the day I ascend to greatness amongst all the children beneath the land that gazes at the stars," she said in a hushed, loving tone. She set him down in the center of the star and threw her head back, two horns sprouting from her head like polished, curved black stones.

A pair of wings erupted from her shoulders and splayed out behind her, a canopy of flesh and bone and blood. She moaned with satisfaction and lowered her head, casting a cold, hard gaze on Tom as he lay in the blood and the mess in sheer terror and awe and unknowing disbelief. He began to cry, too afraid to even speak or move.

Tom suddenly found himself with his face in his hands, his body shaking and trembling hard and his face and shirt wet with tears. It took him a few moments to realize what was happening. He was sitting on his bed, crying, reliving the night he wanted to forget more than anything else in the world.

He took his trembling hands away from his face and sat motionless until his body came back under his control and his mind settled back into its normal state of repression and hiding those memories in a deep corner he couldn't find again.

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Sohm watched him stare blankly at the floor for nearly an hour before she moved. She had watched him since he'd begun to cry, her original purpose to sneak into his bedroom while he was asleep and feed again. Tonight, he had thrown his phone over his shoulder and begun to cry for a time, and ended up like this.

The slime slowly pushed the door open, shaping a human form out of her great mass and flowing towards him cautiously. He looked empty. He wasn't reliving a memory anymore, nor was he thinking or crying...or anything really. He sat and stared at the floor with a slackness and blankness to his expression that Sohm had only seen in the dead.

He was warm, and breathing, but not in himself. The slime leaned closer to him, peering into his eyes to see anything in them. They were dull and listless, dreaming of nothing and thinking of only empty, hollow places in his mind.

She realized what he was doing. He was pushing something back. Something in him was being buried deep inside his mind so he would never find it again. Sohm reached out to touch him and find out what it was. She paused for a moment, debating whether or not she wanted to see. Was it right, to see something so terrible the boy who plays with Ceria dared not remember?

Her caution faded enough to allow herself to continue, and she delved deep into his memories and thoughts, deep into the places where he hid things that made his conscious mind go numb and blank as a starless midnight.

She found the corner of his active thoughts, following impulses and fading trails until she came upon the thing he was removing from the forefront of his memories. Sohm withdrew from his mind in and instant and retreated into her own thoughts.

She waited until his eyes returned to their color and the slackness in his face pulled taut again with life. The slime wrapped her gooey arms around him and held him tightly, rocking him back and forth gently, petting his head with a soothing, warm hand.

"You're safe. No one is going to hurt you. You are safe with me. I will protect you from it. Don't worry," she whispered, stroking his head slowly as he began to weep again.

"Thank you," was all he said, and cried himself to sleep in her warm embrace.

Sohm laid him in his bed when she was sure he was asleep and watched him rest peacefully. She had seen that leer before, the cruelty and knowing malice within it. She had seen the terrible efficiency and intellect in a smile before.

Somewhere.