The Legacy of She-Devil

A lawyer thinks he's uncovered the secret location of the legendary fortune of the deceased Sheila DeVil, but it seems her spirit is quite alive as it forces him through extremely sexy changes when he does find it.

Author's Note: This is a rewrite of a story I originally posted over 20 years ago on the alt.sex.stories newsgroup, back when I was doing morphs under the name Rasputin. Looking it over now it's clumsily written, it being one of the first erotic things I ever wrote, and I've decided to make some edits to the story and repost it with new images by me as well. It is very faithful to the spirit of what I originally created and it was done as my homage to the TG writer She-Devil, who was one of my favorites back then. Some of you might still remember her stories like Alana, Missy, Chrissy, Terry does Debbie, and The Lab Rat. Sadly, no new stories had been forthcoming from the author for many years, leaving me unfulfilled. I took it upon myself to help contribute to her mythos, with the deepest respects and gratitude to the author who started it all.)

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"Are you crazy?"

Alex Campbell glanced up from his laptop and smiled at his gawking colleague. "No, David, I'm being very sane. It's upwards of 50 million dollars we're talking about, and I think it's insane that we've given up on trying to find even just part of it. I've been scrutinizing the whole case file and I might be the only guy here with the ability to even crack part of this puzzle." Alex stretched satisfied in his office chair and started packing up his laptop case as David looked on still in disbelief. At 30 years old, Alex was a very good-looking man with sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He had a slim, athletic build as he took very good care of himself. He was also very well off, and his well-tailored suit showed of his tall, muscular physique rather spectacularly if he thought so himself. David being older, pudgier, and much more self-doubting, slumped in his chair and peered up exasperatedly as Alex grinned to himself. "Alex, this is the Sheila DeVil estate funds you're trying to find; you might as well be looking for Atlantis' tax returns. Everyone here knows her records here show her estate being worth millions, but the firm has dumped years of company time to research this case, and after that we don't have any real idea where even part of that fortune is truly tied up."

David tiredly went over the old argument again. "Shell companies, trusts, and tax shelters are just the start of this mess. DeVil used methods our forensic accountants have never seen before, and they've been able to untangle the accounts of mobsters and drug kingpins. She hid all her major assets, ownerships, and investments God knows where. What little we've been able to put together shows she was mixed up in some weird stuff: ancient religions, fringe science, and experimental medicines. When her plane crashed three years ago in Brazil, people said she was there researching mystical plant extracts and potions used by indigenous tribes in the Rain Forest, for Christ's sake." Alex smiled slyly as he watched David defeatedly slouch and continue his lament. "She hired Blake, Henson, and Rogers to keep some of her legal records, and we did. But there's no evidence she ever had had any true will, any real survivors, any credited beneficiaries, and any usable paper trail at all. Alex, you may be a great lawyer, but to get to the bottom of this, you'd have to be a great magician."

"Well, that's good, because I need to make myself disappear anyway," murmured Alex as he finished packing. "Kim found out about my side girl, one of them anyway, and she's on the warpath. It's a perfect time for me to leave on a business trip and if she can't find me, then it's even more perfect. I'll let her sweat it out and by the time I'm back, she'll be lonely, scared, and begging to forgive me." Alex toted his laptop bag and grabbed his already packed suitcase with his other hand as he made his way out of the office. "Besides, I've found a little more than I think I was supposed to. Remember how Charlie Richards and Mike Nichols disappeared a few years back without a trace? I think I found out why. They were both working on the DeVil case, and I checked out Pete's old notes in the digital archives. I found something everyone here overlooked, details where they suspected Sheila DeVil had liquidated a huge chunk of her assets into gold and precious metals right before she disappeared." David stared dumbfoundedly at the revelation as Alex went on. "I think those two may have found that fortune in a very out of the way location, and maybe it was enough for them to decide to leave without a trace and take early "expatriate" retirements. I'll find them or I'll find that money. Maybe it'll be time for my early retirement as well" Alex bemusedly walked to the door, striding confidently past David as he headed towards the company garage. "Wait! Where are you going?" called David. Alex shot back, "So sorry, that's privileged information, counselor. Tell Blake I'm on a factfinding trip if he ever notices I'm gone."

It was just after sunset as Alex drove his BMW up the dirt road towards the wooded cabin. He checked his GPS to make sure he was heading the best way to his destination, but this road wasn't really on any map, digital or otherwise. His cell phone had lost any reception 15 minutes ago as he had steadily climbed the road up the hillside. The cabin at the end of this road was the little piece of information everyone else in his firm had overlooked. He had been able to track his predecessors research into an insignificant real estate purchase in these mountains that Sheila had made before her death. She had bought the cabin and set up a trust to regularly pay the taxes and fees on it, those funds lasting for at least the next 50 years. It wasn't a big enough purchase to be obviously important to most people, but his keen eyes had caught it amidst all the mountains of paperwork. As he drove the last measure of the road, he saw the tiny little cabin not far ahead, nestled against the side of a rugged hill. It looked like a simple hunting shack, weathered and ill-maintained, but appearing still solidly stable. After he parked his sedan on the last good piece of road, Alex strode out carefully and walked towards the front door over the overgrown yard. The unkept grass surrounding the building was nearly waist high in places as he made his way to the front porch, which creaked and groaned under him as he footed away leaves and other debris. He looked at the solid front door hesitantly, then shrugged and knocked forcefully. No sound answered him from within as he waited a few heartbeats. Carefully, he tested the door, and was amazed to find it unlocked.

Alex slowly entered the musty cabin, his squinting eyes peering through the undisturbed darkness inside. Instinctively, his hand fumbled for a light switch near the door, which he happily found and reflexively flicked. The lights came on instantly and startled him with their sudden brightness. As his eyes adjusted, Alex closed the door behind himself and looked around. It was a pretty spartan cabin, with a good layer of dust covering everything. A simply made cot bed, couch, chair, and some bookshelves with a few books resting on it were all that really furnished the living area, and a quick look in the kitchen and bathroom showed that the power, water, and gas were still on, but none of the appliances had been used recently. He was quite obviously the first person to set foot inside the cabin in years. He messily dusted off a seat for himself and rested in thought. His eyes darted around the house, searching for anything that was out of the ordinary. But the whole cabin wasn't out of the ordinary in a way. Sheila DeVil was just not the type of woman who liked to get away from it all to little hideaways deep in the mountains. She had rich tastes, and this cabin was not anything she would have savored. Alex rose to methodically search again, as each inch of the domicile fell under his analyzing glance.

Hours later, he had searched everything the small structure held, and found nothing unusual or helpful. He slumped on the dusty bed and frustratedly fell into his thoughts. After fruitlessly pondering, Alex dejectedly looked over the space once again, but this time he focused on what little decoration Sheila had furnished the house with. A small painting of a lake, a tattered throw-rug, and a small statuette sitting on a shelf were all that he could see. He stared at the statuette and got up to walk over to it. It was a small wood carving of a female devil, her pitchfork poised to deliver the deathblow to a helpless man. Alex wistfully held it, and suddenly began to pull and prod the figure as inspiration overtook him. A few seconds later, he had twisted off the base of the statuette and found a compartment that held a small key and a note that simply stated "Under the rug". Sheila DeVil, She-Devil. She had a 'devilish' sense of humor, Alex mused as he pushed aside the tattered rug and looked at the wooden floor below. The noticeable feature of a small knothole was easily pulled out, revealing a hidden keyhole in which the key fit snugly. Alex twisted the key, and a large section of the floor popped open on hidden hinges with a satisfying click. Cautiously, he pulled opened the panel, and peered down the musty tunnel that was revealed. A cement passage dimly lit by LEDs went down 20 feet into the ground, as a rusty metal ladder clung to its side. Alex climbed down into the damp chamber gingerly, savoring his excitement as he drew nearer to his goal.

Once inside, he saw a short cement hallway leading to a slightly open vault-like metal door at the end. A green LED light shown eerily on the door as Alex made his way towards it. "This is it," he whispered to himself. "Sheila DeVil's treasure. I've found it." He carefully pulled the heavy, thick door fully open and peered into the room beyond. The 20 foot by 20 foot room had its concrete floors painted a flat gray, with a simple cot bed, toilet, shower, and sink comprising all the furnishings visible. Covering the walls and the ceiling was a mirror-like, reflective glass, dimly glowing to give the room it's only illumination. Alex carefully crept into the room, making sure the vault door was wide open as he did. He went to his hands and knees and checked under the bed, but there was nothing underneath, and the cot was bolted to the floor. A look at the bathroom fixtures revealed nothing unusual as well. "Damn," Alex muttered angrily, "It looks like a bomb shelter. DeVil must have been a survivalist prepper or some crap like that. I can feel ventilation running in the room, but where's the food? What a waste of time." Alex was about to head out of the room in pure disappointment when he noticed something standing out on the wall beside the cot.

A small metal panel, about 1 foot high by 2 feet wide, was slightly inset in the wall opposite the door. Alex walked over to it and gingerly touched the plate. His brief contact with the plate sent a numbing shock through his fingertips, and he leaped back in pain. The shock was quickly forgotten, as the sound of electric motors whirring and the door slamming behind him spun his attention around, the door's green light changing to an ominous red. He hurried over to the featureless door, as he now realized that no locks or handles were visible on this side of the portal. Alex began to panic. Claustrophobia and the fear of being buried alive overtook all the other thoughts racing through his head. The metal was solid and well-constructed but nonetheless he started to frantically claw at the door's seams, but the steel didn't yield any real handholds. He pulled the sheets and mattress off the cot, but nothing worthwhile was discovered there either. The toilet was metal and fixedly unopenable, as were the sink and shower. All worked, but there was nothing he could use to get out of his prison. Nothing he had on him would be of any help, and his phone showed no bars at all. After a frantic hour, Alex slumped on the bed and tried to feverishly work his wracked brain for a solution. Fucking cunt! He was trapped 30 feet underground in the middle of nowhere, nobody knew where he was, and nobody would be coming to his rescue. All because he was greedy and had triggered this crazy bitch's deathtrap by touching that stupid panel. Alex looked over to its place on the wall beside the cot. He angrily got up and began to kick the panel with his Italian shoes, fighting the pain the small electric shocks caused his foot as he let out his unreasoning rage on the unyielding metal. The light glowing through the walls dimmed quickly and snapped him out of his frustration tantrum. Giant moving images began to form on the walls and ceiling, almost like they were giant TV screens. A stern, beautiful woman's face smiled from them, as sound and video filled the room. He recognized the woman's face from the many pictures in her file. Sheila DeVil.

"Hello, whoever you are. By now, you probably realize escaping here is futile. The room is quite secure, and nothing will enter or leave without my say-so. My name is Sheila DeVil, or you may call me She-Devil as I prefer. This is a recording I've made to greet those foolish and greedy enough to try and enter my home and take my possessions. You will be my guest here until I say you can leave, and during that time you will do exactly as I say exactly when I say it. This room is completely automated and can keep a person alive for years if need be. It's the ultimate manifestation of my research and development in the esoteric arts, and it makes use of all I have learned in my many pursuits and test cases. If you're here, you probably know of me and came seeking my rumored fortune. I promise you will benefit fully from my lifelong labors, but not financially. A sophisticated computer of my own design will monitor you while you are here and deliver my orders perfectly with no mercy, so you will quickly learn to obey all my instructions, or you will die. Now, eat your food and wait for further instructions from me."

The pictures and sounds ceased as the walls and ceiling returned to their normal mirrored appearance. Alex looked around, stunned by what he had just seen. The shocking metal plate beside his bed slid up and revealed a good portion of hot soupy porridge in a smooth metal bowl set inside a deeper compartment. Alex peered into the dark hole, which was only 2 feet deep with no other visible openings inside. The closeness of the porridge made his stomach rumble, but Alex ignored the sensation and felt around carefully inside the hole. Nothing gave way, and the insides were made of the same solid metal that the door was. Alex carefully removed the bowl of food and looked inside the now vacant slot. He was taken aback as the metal door to the hole slammed down shut with deadly force right in his face. If he still had a hand in there, it would have been cut off for sure. Alex breathed nervously and sat on the bed with the bowl held in his shaking hands. The porridge smelled good, but no way was he going to be stupid enough to eat it. He gently sat the bowl down on the floor next to his bed and laid down to think. It may have taken hours, but Alex eventually fell to sleep out of pure exhaustion, as fears and regrets gripped his tired mind. He thought about Kim, and how she probably was furious at him, thinking he had run off with some bimbo. Would she ever know what really happened to him? Would anyone really miss him? How could he be so fucking stupid? Loneliness and dread caused nightmares, filled with lady devils and pitchforks, as he tossed and turned in a fitful sleep.

Alex slowly and sorely got up and looked groggily around the room some time later. Everything was exactly as he left it before passing out, even the now stone-cold porridge was still sitting at the same spot on the floor. Blearily, he went over to the sink and tried to turn it on for a drink of water to soothe his parched throat. No water came out as he dejectedly pulled and prodded the controls. "Fucking broken? Fantastic..." he fumed. The shower was inoperative as well, leaving the toilet the only source of water. Alex investigated the bowl and saw that blue chemical water filled the metal basin, leaving him no pure water to drink at all. Alex wearily walked over to the bed and looked at the stale food lying on the floor next to him. He was going to die of thirst or starve if he didn't eat anyway, so he might as well die quick if the porridge was poisoned. He picked up the bowl, marshalled his courage, and hurriedly gulped it down as the cold lumpiness filled his empty stomach. When he was finished, Alex licked the inside of the bowl clean, savoring every drop. His stomach felt full and contented, as a slow warm bliss started spread from there to throughout his body. Alex jumped as the water in the sink and the shower started up full blast without warning, and he ran over to use the bowl as a drinking basin, gulping down mouthfuls of cool clean water. A few frantic minutes later, now well fed and watered, he shut off the water and returned to the bed, setting the plate down beside him on the floor. He felt his strength begin to return and he concluded the white, lumpy food was much better than nothing. Actually, Alex mused, that porridge was surprisingly delicious, a great blend of savory, sweet, and salty, he thought as he licked his fingers clean.

The wall monitors flickered on, as the image of She-Devil filled the room again and spoke aloud. "Excellent. Return the dish to the wall opening, and deposit all your clothes inside. Do so quickly or you will get no more food or water." Alex stared blankly at the walls, as the video flickered off and the slot beside the bed opened on the wall again, though this time it was empty. Alex knew he was at She-Devil's pre-recorded mercy and exasperatedly removed all his clothes except his underwear and put them with the bowl in the wall opening. He waited about fifteen minutes, but nothing else happened. His hunger pains were already returning as thoughts of survival began overtaking his mind, as he really did need some more of that porridge to keep his strength up. He reflexively licked his fingertips again, savoring the taste that lingered there. After another few minutes, he dejectedly pulled off his underwear and set it with the rest of his clothes into the slot. The slot door again slammed shut, leaving Alex naked in the cool room. She-Devil reappeared on the wall projectors.

"Very good. When the slot opens again, take the toiletries and clothes that will appear along with the food and clean yourself up. After you finish eating, put everything but the clothes in the slot, and put the clothes on." She-Devil flickered off again, as Alex got up and did what the image commanded. Soon, soap and a hospital gown appeared with his porridge in the wall slot, and Alex followed She-Devil's directions to the letter. The porridge was as good as before, it actually was even better warm, and as he greedily ate it that muzzy warm feeling spread again through his body, and he felt clean and refreshed after the hot soapy shower. After he put the things required back in the slot, he pulled on the gown and sat on the bed. He'd play her game, as he had no other choice. But Alex would get out, and he'd have the last laugh soon. He had no doubt that he could outthink this lunatic that thought herself some sort of devil. That thinking began to turn fuzzy as he laid in the bed and looked up at the ceiling and schemed. His idle thoughts started being directed by a strange overpowering horniness, and his hand went idly to play with his cock, which had sprung to life unbidden, begging for relief. As Alex manipulated himself, almost on que nude girly videos began to play on the walls. Scenes of incredibly large-breasted, nude beauties were sexily writhing everywhere he looked. Alex was confused at first but quickly grew appreciative, as he quickly climaxed on himself several times in a rapid succession before passing out in a blissful, if messy, sleep.