Demoness

The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Demoness Copyright  2003 Morgan Hawke ISBN: 1-55410-004-6 Cover art and design by Martine Jardin All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher. Published by eXtasy Books, a division of Zumaya Publications, 2003 Look for us online at: www.zumayapublications.com www.Extasybooks.com

For Jessica, My Lady Malora...

Demoness

Prologue: Toronto, Canada in winter. Modern day…

“M

arco, what are you up to?” Cassandra couldn’t see a thing past the silk scarf he’d tied around her eyes. The blindfold closed her world to only sound and sensation. Experimentally, she twisted her wrists in the thick, soft rope that bound them together and then to the barred, brass headboard. The rope was pliant cotton but the knots were out of finger reach. “Who me?” His voice was smoky and deep and came from somewhere below her unbound feet. It sent chills down her spine. Marco was one of her favorite people to stay with while she was in town on one of her extended Exotica Feature Entertainer Gentleman’s Club Tours, where she did exhibition erotic dance shows in the nude. Most importantly, Marco was into the same kinky sex she was. The fact that Marco was a fellow Satanist was nice too. “Yes, you, you pervert.” Restlessly she shifted on her belly, her hips supported by a thick satin pillow that she knew was as scarlet as the sheets. 1

Morgan Hawke “I’m the pervert? You were the one who asked to be tied to the bed.” His chuckle was warm and intimate. She could just see his sardonic grin in her mind’s eye. Marco was tall, dark and gorgeous with long black curls, a tight, muscular body and golden eyes. She felt his breath on the back of her calf. An involuntary shiver raised the hairs on her legs, then traveled up her back. She clenched her hands on the rope that bound her to the headboard. “This blindfold was not my idea.” The bed dipped at her feet as he climbed on. “I thought it would add spice.” She felt something brush the back of her thigh. That’s his long black hair, she thought. It is so unfair, a man shouldn’t have hair that beautiful. She stuck her bottom lip out in a pout. She had been envious of his silky, waist-length curls ever since she met him two years ago at the nightclub where she had been a Feature Exotic Entertainer. There was a sharp whistle, then the sound of suede leather striking flesh. She gasped with the delayed sting on her left butt-cheek. “Shit!” It hadn’t been his hair on her thighs, but his braided flogger. The flogger whistled and slapped against her right buttock. “Do you want me to stop?” he inquired politely. “Don’t you dare!” She gasped as he took her at her word, slapping one cheek and then the other, with the soft flogs of the braided whip quickly and efficiently. The flogger was strictly for erotic play and too soft to do any actual damage, but her ass warmed quickly. 2

Demoness Abruptly, he stopped. She felt his open wet mouth on the lower curve of her warmed buttock and let out a soft moan. “Liked that, did you?” She felt the bed shift, then felt his strong thighs on either side of hers, trapping her legs in their masculine warmth. She let out a breathy sigh that was practically a purr. “I love it when you spank me.” “Of course you do, you’re a naughty girl.” His heavy body fell, pushing her deep into the mattress. His thighs tightened around hers, then his arms slid around her, holding her deliciously immobile. She could feel his rigid erection pressing against the seam of her naked and very warm buttocks. “I think I like this game,” he whispered directly into her ear. His hardness slid up against her ass and back. Her reply was a throaty moan and another involuntary shudder. He held her legs tight together with his thighs, then shifted his weight above her. She felt the hardness of his cock nose between her thighs, then it made contact with the damp opening to her body. “Hmm, you’re very wet. I think you like this game too.” “Quit teasing me and fuck me,” she snapped with impatience, trembling in anticipation. “As you command.” He grunted and slid within. They both groaned. Cassandra went mindless with pleasure as he filled her with his silky smooth, marble hardness. Her body clenched deliciously and greedily around him. 3

Morgan Hawke “Satan’s prick, you’re tight in this position,” he gasped then pulled back and thrust. “Just don’t stop,” she gasped out. With clockwork regularity, he thrust and withdrew. Their bodies grew slick with sweat. The sound of flesh and moist suction grew loud, punctuated by groans and gasps. His breathing deepened. “I hope you’re not in the mood for something extended...” With agonizing slowness, he pulled back and slid in again. “I don’t think I can take too much of your tight cunt.” His warm, solid body held her still for his repeated and far too slow thrusts. She could just imagine the ferocious look of concentration that was creasing his brow. A warm roil of intense rapture, just short of orgasm made her struggle to writhe below him. She jerked on the binding ropes and fought to push back, but his weight prevented her from doing more than clenching her buttocks. “Faster!” she whimpered. “Do me faster...” “You’re too impatient.” He slowed even more. “Don’t stop!” “I’m not stopping.” He chuckled and she bucked under him in impatience. “I just don’t want you going anywhere without me.” “Bastard!” “Why, yes I am.” He thrust hard, once, twice, thrice in quick succession. Cassandra whimpered in delight and luscious agony. The bright hard edge of orgasm glimmered. “Shit,” he said softly. “I’m gonna blow quicker 4

Demoness than I thought.” He groaned. “Now,” she whimpered. “Really hard, fuck me really hard.” She felt him sit up, felt his hand in her hair, felt him wind it around his fist. He tugged and she shuddered with anticipation. He withdrew and surged back with a hammer blow. His thrusts came fast and hard, exactly the way she liked. “Yes!” she screamed. Orgasm burned bright, crested, then crashed in a wash of curling heat. She howled. He fell atop her and thrust with violent speed. She felt him pause, thrust and groan. Deep within, she felt him flex as he poured himself into her. “Satan’s nuts, you’re a great fuck,” he whispered as he nuzzled her ear. “You too, babe. The best I ever had.” She smiled into the pillow. **** The ultra-violet tubes lining the interior of the huge tanning bed winked out. Cassandra sighed, yanked the tiny goggles off of her eyes then pushed up the coffin-lid of the tanning bed. “There really is nothing like a tanning bed to keep you warm in the winter.” Cassandra ran her palms down her smooth, muscular abdomen, reveling in the warmth that rose from below the surface of her dark golden skin like an internal electric blanket. “Poor Marco, I think I wore him out.” She grinned. He was still passed out in the huge bed. She smiled in the ornate mirror by the ultra-modern Sun-Glow 5

Morgan Hawke tanning bed. Sex usually energized her, it was near impossible to sleep after a really good session—and Marco’s were always really good. “Perfect time to rush down to the basement to catch up on my tan.” Marco’s house was huge, dark and antique, like something out of a classic black and white, gothic horror movie. The whole rambling edifice was painted in a pale, misty gray trimmed in white. The décor was all stark black and soft gray with just a hint of scarlet. Heavily carved furniture and dark paintings of strange people in weird settings were scattered about the house with intermittent black, marble statues almost as tall as she. The voluminous velvet curtains on the huge smoked windows were a deep scarlet, as were the under-sheets on his massive bed. “The basement is completely finished in early modern fetish,” she quipped, as though she were a tour guide. Manacles and implements of erotic torture hung on the walls around her. Lazily she rolled naked out from under the lid, then stood up. Raising her arms over her head, she stretched then groaned. “Oh, Lord of the Underworld, I think I overdid it this time.” Her shoulders, hips and thighs ached. “That is the last time I spend so much time up on the pole at any strip club.” She groaned again as she dropped into an elegant split to stretch her thighs. “I don’t care how much money they offer the Exotica Talent Agency; they can get another Feature Entertainer to drive all the way to Hell and Gone Canada, then do all that gymnastic bullshit.” 6

Demoness Turning to her reflection in the ornate, gilt mirror on the brick wall behind her, Cassandra did a quick all over check to be sure that she hadn’t burned anything tender, like her freshly shaven mound. The scarlet nails on her fingertips gently touched the neatly trimmed red curls, pleased with its shape of the inverted cross. Well, hey, when you’re a satanic exotic dancer it doesn’t hurt to advertis,’ she mused as she pulled the elastic from her fiery red hair. The shining waves tumbled down to sweep and curl lazily around her hips. The basement of Marco’s old Victorian mansion was normally chilly, but after spending quality time lounging under the electric sun, she felt nice and toasty. “Hmm… I wonder what Marco has planned for me tonight?” With a smirk at herself in the mirror, she fastened her Baphomet pendant around her throat. With quick, efficient movements she picked up her red silk thong then stepped into it. “I’m going to have to get more of these. Marco is far too fond of snipping these off of me with one of his ritual daggers.” She licked her plump red lips as she shimmied into her tight black jeans. “Naughty me, no bra,” she said as she pulled on her favorite Black Sabbath band t-shirt. Fussily, she slid her feet into her sandals. It just wouldn’t do to ruin her new pedicure by wearing shoes. She wiggled her dark ruby toes and smiled. She took a last moment to admire the way her sharply pointed, freshly painted fingernails matched her toes perfectly. Gleefully, she turned and headed out of the tiny 7

Morgan Hawke room set aside for the tanning bed. Cassandra grabbed the handrail of the stairs that lead to the mansions upper rooms when she noticed a powerful odor of sulfur in the air. Burnt matches? Cassandra thought in surprise. Where’s that smell of sulfur coming from? Everything suddenly went very weird. There was a whoosh, and she was falling. Then the world abruptly went away.

8

Demoness

Chapter One: Conjured! Paris, France in winter, the Middle Ages…

W

hat the hell?” Cassandra said as she looked around sharply. “Wait a minute, where are my clothes?” She was standing stark naked in a huge open room with distant walls of mortared stone and a high ceiling supported by thick stone pillars. Slowly, she turned in a complete circle. Deep shadows pooled in the corners, barely held at bay by the flames that danced on thick red pillar candles on five standing candelabras stationed around her. She was atop a wide circular platform of carved wood that was raised about two feet off the stone floor. There was a complicated design painted into the deep grooves of the platform and yet another design drawn on the stone floor, all the way around the platform. It’s a kind of a star within a circle within a star design. She frowned. Why does this look familiar? She tilted her head to get a good look at the whole design. I have 9

Morgan Hawke seen this before. This is an honest-to-Satan demonconjuring pentagram! She blinked and her eyes widened. Wait a minute, all the lines are glowing in color...She swallowed and felt her hands grow icy-cold. Holy shit, the drawing on the stone floor is moving! The circles and complicated diagrams churned slowly around her in opposing directions. The letters changed and transformed, twisting and writhing in ever-shifting phrases written in a language she couldn’t read. And she was standing in the very center where, according to this diagram, a demon was supposed to appear. Sharply, she turned all the way around then noticed a short man with a very surprised look on his face. He was staring straight at her from behind what looked like a bulky wooden teacher’s podium. He didn’t look old, but no one in the world would ever called him good-looking. His dark greasy hair was spiked as though he had slept on it, and his face was none too clean. However, his clothes were incredible; long black robes encrusted with golden gemstones and heavily embroidered with mystical symbols in gold thread brushed the floor around him. Have I been kidnapped? Cassandra’s fear quickly became anger. “Okay asshole, who the fuck are you, and what the hell am I doing in your basement?” Cassandra snapped. Barely able to peel his eyes from Cassandra’s naked golden form, he glanced down at the huge, black leather-bound book sitting on top of the wooden podium. Flipping hurriedly through the 10

Demoness oversized pages, he found his passage, then mumbled something in what sounded an awful lot like heavily accented church Latin. Cassandra felt a shifting in her head, as though her brain was moving in her skull. Suddenly she understood everything he was saying. “Okay, this is getting way too weird for me,” she whispered in fright. “—I invoke you in the name of Lucifer, Lord of Blood and Darkness to obey my commands, oh Demoness of the Pit,” he finished with a flourish. “Your commands? My ass! I’ll show you, you little shit!” she swore viciously, then took a lunging step toward the guy. She yelped, having slammed into a rubbery wall that she couldn’t see. Raising her hands in curiosity, she felt about and discovered a kind of invisible force field that seemed to be right on the edge of the inner circle drawn at her feet. She followed the invisible wall all the way around. She was trapped. She couldn’t pass the circle’s boundaries. But if this is a circle meant to contain a demon and I can’t pass it, then this means that… Her brow furrowed in confusion, then her violet eyes widened in surprise. I’m supposed to be the demon? Being considered a demon was kinda cool, but then again, it kinda wasn’t. “Hey! Let me out of here, you freak!” she shouted, banging a fist on the force field. “You got your damned spell wrong, you idiot!” It gave a hollow wobbling sound but stayed right where it was. “You didn’t get a demon, you moron! You conjured a 11

Morgan Hawke stripper!” She was ignored as the short guy in the long robes continued to chant. She winced. Well, I do kinda worship Satan, she thought, but that doesn’t make me demonic... Does it? Cassandra’s cursing and swearing got creative. Intoning in a deep, monotonous voice, he stepped out from behind the podium then marched, right up to the circle’s edge. He finished his mantra in a flourish of exotic phrases and gestures. “Demoness,” he announced, pointing a finger at Cassandra. “What?” she sputtered, her cursing brought to a sudden halt. The short guy stared into her startled eyes. “I command you to seduce The Holy Inquisitor, Monsignor Casca Renaldo Cervantes of the Holy Order of the Dominicans, currently ensconced in the Our Lady of Paris Cathedral. I command you to take his virginity and then deliver him to your Infernal Master.” Cassandra blinked. “Let me get this straight. You want me to seduce a priest?” He nodded curtly. She snorted. “Hell, I’d do a priest for you without all this—” She waved her hand around indicating the ritual site. “Getup,” she finished with a smug smile. He won’t be the first priest I’ve seduced, she thought to herself, and if I have anything to say about it, he certainly won’t be the last! Something abruptly bonged in Cassandra’s head. A wave of heat slithered up her body like exploring hands on her flesh. It felt as though something else was moving inside her body, rummaging around 12

Demoness under her skin and lurking at the back of her mind. Cassandra’s nipples and every hair on her body stood upright. To her complete and utter surprise, her mouth popped open. “I hear and obey, Master.” The words just leapt out of her mouth. Something else was driving the car, making her body move by itself. Well, shit. Looks like I am the demon. “Come, Demoness,” he demanded, imperiously holding out his hand. Cassandra flinched at the command, but was strangely powerless to resist his direct order. Cautiously, she placed her palm in his waiting hand and cringing, stepped forward. Whoa, no ‘boing’, she thought as she passed the circle’s boundary to stand next to him. Cassandra blinked as she realized that he was seriously shorter than her. The top of his head only came to her chin. “I am Magister Chevalier le Duc,” he said with grave courtesy. “Welcome to Paris.” “I’m in Paris? As in Paris, France?” Cassandra squeaked. Am I speaking French? Wait a minute, my words do feel a little funny. I can understand what’s being said, but if I think about it, the words sound wrong... She felt something shifting in her mind again. Yes, it whispered. “You are.” The Magister nodded briefly. “Oh!” It took Cassandra a second to realize that he was responding to her question about Paris. She looked down at his velvet and jeweled getup. “So, what year is it, here in Paris?” she asked in suspicion. He rattled off something that she was pretty sure 13

Morgan Hawke was a date but it didn’t really make any sense. As she frowned, trying to figure out what he had just said, her slithery inner occupant shifted slightly in her head and filled in the blanks. She was somewhere in the twelve hundreds, in January. Holy fuck! I’m in the Middle Ages! Cassandra thought, stunned. Something like a sneer skittered through her thoughts. The Magister apparently didn’t follow the newly introduced Julian calendar. Cassandra frowned. That comment did not come from me! “Give me your name, Demoness.” “All right…” She could feel a name surfacing that was something she’d never heard before and she wasn’t sure she could pronounce. Hmm, must be my inner roommate’s name, she thought. “I’m—” she began but her body’s occupant took that moment to slither around under her skin in warning. There was something she couldn’t quite get, something about souls and power exchange. Better keep my roommate’s name to myself. Her roommate settled down and she thought it felt pleased with her decision. “Your name?” The Magister pressed. “And I will have the truth.” She felt the shove of compulsion that let her know in no uncertain terms that she would not be allowed to lie. “You can call me Malora.” She smiled. She was telling the truth, it really was her name. Her stripper name, anyway. “Lady Malora,” he smiled. Taking great care, the 14

Demoness Magister loosened his black robe, then offered it to Cassandra. She eyed his very medieval outfit as she took the heavy robe from his hand. Wow, she thought, impressed. She had thought the robe was fancy, but the outfit he wore beneath it made the robe look plain in comparison. He was wearing a beautiful rich brown velvet tunic encrusted with hundreds of tiny golden topaz jewels, over a full-sleeved, cloth of gold shirt and brown velvet tights. Weird-looking square-toed slippers covered his feet. She bit back a smile as she shrugged into the robe. Although the robe swept the ground on the short guy, the hem was more than a foot too short for her. She wiggled her carmine-painted toes. The Magister turned on his heel and strode past her. “This way,” he said over his shoulder. Cassandra followed the Magister to a small, open doorway then up a narrow, stone staircase that climbed in a tight spiral. The staircase was unnervingly dark with small sputtering lights in niches set into the staircase walls. A quick peek into one of the niches showed a tiny flame on string wick propped over the edge of a shallow dish, serving as a foul-smelling oil lamp. She wrinkled her nose. I can’t tell what smells worse, the oil burning in the dishes or being down-wind of the Magister’s body odor. Cassandra was led through the doorway at the top of the staircase into a long hall hung with massive, heavily embroidered wall hangings, then into a broad 15

Morgan Hawke pillared gallery. “Holy fuck!” Cassandra whispered. “And I thought Marco had a cool house!” She craned her neck around to get a look at everything. This is an honest-to-Satan palace, she thought in awe. Does this guy think he’s a vampire or something? Cassandra thought as she gazed about. It’s so dark in here. The whole place was lit up with thousands of candles in wall sconces and massive standing silver candelabras, but deep shadows pooled in all the corners. If there were any windows, they were well hidden. The floors were white veined black marble with lofty gilded ceilings and paintings on every exposed surface no matter how tiny. The furniture was all covered with ruby velvet over dark wood and huge. Enormous tapestries swathed the oak paneled walls and covered the doorways. There were fur throw rugs on the floors and solid gold plates on mantles crowning the hundreds of fireplaces that seemed to be in every room. Hundreds of people scurried everywhere. Compared to the Magister in his jeweled chocolate velvets, everyone else was dressed in drab muddy colors. The women all wore kerchiefs over their hair and long skirts. The men wore shapeless caps and really long baggy shirts belted at the waist. Every single one of them was shorter than the Magister. Cassandra felt positively gigantic. The Magister didn’t notice them as they nodded, touching their caps or kerchiefs as they hurriedly passed. 16

Demoness The Magister led her through a long dark gallery to a large tapestry portraying a colorful hunt scene, then pulled it aside to reveal a pair of immense, black oak doors. Throwing them open, he ushered her into a huge room with two fireplaces and a gigantic canopied bed curtained in heavy black velvet. Her bare feet sank into a thick silk velvet carpet that glowed with vibrant colors in a middle-eastern design. Cassandra walked around the room staring at everything. She was intensely fascinated by the marble sculptures of leering goat guys, satyrs that supported the heavy mantle over one of the huge fireplaces. She sighed in envy. The artist had been particularly creative with the size of the cocks they sported. “Whoa, I have to get me one of these.” Cassandra turned to ask the Magister about the sculptures, only to find him standing by the velvet-draped bed, completely naked. “Service me,” he commanded. In his palm, he caressed his huge and very rigid dick. “Impressive,” she commented, then got a better look. While she rather enjoyed giving head, and he looked like he had a very nice uncircumcised specimen of manliness, Cassandra eyed his naked body with grim reservations. He was not anywhere near clean. In fact, he was funky, with a serious body odor that she could smell from where she stood across the room from him. Obviously Cassandra couldn’t disobey his command. The ‘something else’ that was cohabitating 17

Morgan Hawke her body wasn’t going to let her avoid a direct order, but perhaps she could find a way around this little filth problem. Then she was struck with inspiration. All the really good romance novels described hot baths in tubs by the fire. “I would love to serve you,” Cassandra said quickly, before he could order her to put that nasty, filthy thing in her mouth. “Why don’t I bathe you first, Master?” “It is far too cold for a bath,” he said, looking a little doubtful. “Not if we heat the water really hot and set the tub right here in front of the fire. I could wash you with my own hands,” she purred seductively. “I’ll rub you and lather your entire body with soap.” Cassandra offered temptingly. “Have you ever had sex in a tub full of soapy water?” “Actually, I haven’t had that pleasure.” There was an interested look in his black eyes. “I believe we have the time,” he said with a small nod. Cassandra felt like jumping up and down with glee, but settled for a small bow and a sultry smile. The Magister took two steps to the wall and yanked on a long blue ribbon. Cassandra didn’t hear anything, but a knock came at the door in less than a minute. Completely naked and unconcerned, he told the woman at the door what he wanted, and the servants began delivering buckets of hot water. The romance novels apparently forgot to mention how long it actually took to fill a huge wooden tub. Servant after servant after servant carried bucket after bucket after bucket of rapidly cooling water, all the 18

Demoness way from the kitchens to the Master’s room. After fidgeting for a good ten minutes, Cassandra bit her lip and slanted a covert glance at the Magister. He was standing by the fire reading a scroll. Completely ignoring her. Damn it! Cassandra thought. This looks like it’s going to take a while. She eyed the mere inches of water in the bottom. I’d better distract this guy before he gets bored watching the servants filling the tub and asks me to give him head again. Once again, inspiration came to the rescue. “Master?” The Magister looked up with interest. “If we had some music, I could dance for you,” Cassandra opened the robe she still wore to show off her full breasts and smooth body, then rolled her hips from side to side seductively. Cassandra was pleased to see the Magister’s eyes about bug out of his head. He grabbed one of the servants and asked them to bring him some gypsy guy whose name she couldn’t begin to pronounce. “You called, Magister?” inquired a young guy only minutes later. He was dressed in brilliantly colored rags that were festooned with gold and silver coins. He strolled through the door carrying a strange looking, round-bellied guitar and bowed. He was motioned to a corner of the room. The young musician sat himself on a huge cushion in the corner. He tuned his instrument, then strummed a cord and looked up at Cassandra expectantly. “What would you have the Gypsy play?” asked the Magister. 19

Morgan Hawke Cassandra had no idea what to ask for. Suddenly that warm ‘other’ feeling flowed out from under her skin to wrap her in a shimmering wave of heat, making her hair float up on waves of power. As though in a dream, she glided over to the musician. With a shrug, the robe dropped to the floor at her feet, revealing her glorious body. The musician’s mouth fell open in complete astonishment. Gently Cassandra leaned over the seated musician, her long red hair brushing his shoulder. Cupping his chin with her hand, she delicately touched her lips to his. His mouth opened and his tongue darted in to touch hers. A current of otherworldly heat rushed from her mouth into his. The musician jerked back sharply with a small cry as though struck. His eyes snapped closed as though in pain. He took a deep breath then his eyes slowly opened and met hers. A gleam of hellfire danced in the depths of his black eyes and he smiled in a way, Cassandra was sure, the musician had never, ever smiled before. He nodded once and began to play. Still riding a wave of ‘otherness’, she glided to the center of the carpet. The musician strummed an opening chord that sounded strangely like ‘Stairway to Heaven.’ Cassandra felt a wave of power enveloping her skin and she leapt. The music stopped, and Cassandra snapped awake. Her arms were raised above her head in a sinuous arc, her body arched in a sensuous curve and her legs poised for a leap. Slowly she relaxed her posture. There was a lovely sweat gleaming on her skin, but Cassandra didn’t feel the least bit tired. The 20

Demoness musician was passed out on his cushion. She couldn’t remember a damned thing.

21

Morgan Hawke

Chapter Two: Bath

“O

kay…” Cassandra muttered. “That’s spooky.” Glancing over at the waiting Magister, she saw that his mouth was hanging open in reaction to her dance. From the looks of his cum-spattered hand, he had apparently enjoyed the show. Well, I guess that’s a good sign, Cassandra thought, but she couldn’t remember a moment of it. She glanced around at the tub. Wonder of wonders! The tub was finally full and steaming before the fire. About damned time too! Let’s get this show on the road. Smiling, she stepped over to the stunned ceremonial magician. Taking his chilled hand in hers, she led him naked to the tub. Cassandra plunged her hand into the bath water and frowned. The water was barely tepid. So how come it’s steaming? Her brow creased in thought. It must be really cold in here, and I’m still radiating heat from the tanning bed so I don’t feel it. Okay, but this is still far too cold for him to bathe in. 22

Demoness “Wait, Master,” she said, keeping him from getting in the chilly tub. “Water this cold will give you a chill and make you sick. Let me see what I can do.” She raised a brow. Better yet, let’s see what my roommate can do. She focused hard. Hello in there. How about heating this water? There was a shift of movement and heat under the skin of her hands, then a ferocious rush of power down to her palm. She plunged her whole arm into the tepid water and the water began to bubble. Cassandra plunged her other arm into the bath, bending way over to submerge as much of her arms as possible. In an amazingly short while, the water was hot, just the way she liked it. Then it was a little too hot. Then it was way, way too hot. Hey, hey! Ease up! We don’t want to roast him! Cassandra thought as loudly as she could at the power swimming in her body. Do we not? the power whispered back at her with a brief flash of the Magister screaming. Cassandra startled, then got a grip on herself and the power. Apparently her power literally had a mind of its own, and a nasty one at that. No, we do not want to roast him, at least not yet, she insisted. The temperature backed down to a more tolerable level. “Much better,” she sighed, “Your bath is ready, Master.” The Magister looked at Cassandra with some doubt, then dunked his hand into the bath water. His black brows shot up and he smiled with pleasant surprise. Cassandra got out of the way as he practically leapt into the wooden tub. Sinking under 23

Morgan Hawke the hot water to his neck, the Magister gave a long satisfied sigh. That was graceful, Cassandra thought sarcastically as she eyed the water splashing on to the expensive carpet. “This is most pleasant,” the Magister practically purred. “I haven’t been this warm since the summer. Out of gratitude, you may bathe after me.” He smiled broadly. His teeth gleamed clean and white. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Cassandra smirked as she reached for a washcloth. “But, um,” she began, getting a good look at the greasy filth starting to rise to the water’s surface. “I’ve already had my bath today, so I think I’ll pass.” Gritting her teeth, she grabbed a gray ball of waxy stuff that the servants had assured her was indeed soap. With a will, she lathered up a knobby cloth, then attacked the Magister’s broad back. Thinking in terms of her five-year-old nephew, she scrubbed with a vengeance. If I have to touch it - it’s going to be clean... “Out of curiosity, how come your teeth are clean, while the rest of you is, um, not?” “Washing the body in cool water in winter is unhealthful, judicious use of a peppermint twig harms nothing.” “A twig?” He shrugged. “The splintered end of the twig scrubs; peppermint for flavor. That’s how my father did it. His father lost his teeth early to rot. My father was determined to keep his, as I am determined to keep mine.” Cassandra sighed in relief. Thank the Infernal Master 24

Demoness for small favors! I have to kiss that mouth, sooner or later. Lathering her rag and rinsing repeatedly, she was pleased to discover that his shoulders were very broad and his arms were heavily roped with muscle. His chest was actually quite breathtaking, and only lightly furred. His stomach was flat, with well-formed ridges with a tapering waist. As she swiped the rag over his legs, Cassandra noticed that they were quite muscular and rather fine. This boy exercises for real, She thought in admiration. This body wasn’t made in any gym. Cassandra scraped what appeared to be months of accumulated dirt from his body. Even his face improved with a judicious use of soap. She thought about asking him when his last bath was, then decided she really didn’t want to know. Underwater, she ran her hands over his more manly parts. His cock swelled and lengthened under her expert ministrations. She took great care to wash under, around and between, exploring every nook and cranny as well as the weight, heft and solidity of his privates. The Magister moaned as she stroked and caressed him clean. It took a lot of convincing, but she finally got him to let her wash his shoulder-length hair. It was so filthy she had assumed it was dark. After some expert soaping and rinsing, she was astonished to see that it was actually a sandy blond. “Okay, time to rinse, stand up.” He stood in the tub with his back to her, water sluicing off of his muscular form. Mmm, nice ass too! Grabbing a bucket sitting by the fire, Cassandra 25

Morgan Hawke dunked in a hand and used just a little power to heat the water. Cheerfully, she stepped behind him and dumped it over his head. The Magister howled in surprise. As he swept the water from his eyes, Cassandra was able to grab and heat the second bucket. “Look out below!” she called and upended the second bucket over his head. “Damned bitch!” he swore then shook his wet head, spraying water everywhere. “You did conjure a damned demon, remember?” she said with a cheeky smile. “Now, are you ready for me to dry you off?” Cassandra held up a huge towel. “I thought you were going to join me?” he asked. Proudly presenting Cassandra with a very fine view of his firm and very clean erection, he stepped from the wooden tub. Cassandra wrapped him in the towel and glanced at the oily scum floating in the tub as she rubbed the towel across his back. That water is nasty, she thought with a shudder. “How about taking me on the fur rug in front of the fire instead?” she whispered invitingly into his ear. He turned in her arms and nuzzled into her neck. “That sounds like a very fine idea.” “You know, you clean up real nice,” Cassandra purred in admiration. She ran a hand across his sleek, clean chest, then slid her palm lower, her ruby nails scoring lightly. She bit her bottom lip as she followed the yummy trail of golden curls that darkened as they arrowed down his muscular belly. 26

Demoness “You say the strangest things,” the Magister grinned. With sudden ferocity, he wrapped his muscular arms around her waist and lifted her off her feet. Cassandra squealed as she was slung over his damp shoulder. He strode toward the opposite fireplace where the satyrs leered, then knelt. Gently cradling her body, he laid her out on a white fur throw rug. Kneeling above her, the flames lit the fine curls glinting gold across his clean muscular form. “Come over here, big boy,” Cassandra grinned as she wrapped a hand around his silky firm erection, tugging him closer. “Have I got a surprise for you!” Positioning him with his knees straddling her full breasts, she gently slid his foreskin back with her palms, exposing the swollen purple head, damp with pre-cum. “There you are, my sweet!” she purred then licked her lips. With a pointed tongue, she stroked the revealed knob then swiped it, circling with the flat of her tongue with slow licks. He fell forward over her body, his hands clenching in the fur as he moaned in sheer appreciation. Encouraged by his obvious delight, Cassandra nibbled the flared edge of the cap, then sucked hard, swallowing the full length. He moaned and shuddered then bucked his hips, thrusting into her wet and heated mouth. He withdrew to the edge of his cock-head then slowly thrust into her throat, with firm strokes. Cassandra lashed her tongue across the bottom of his shaft as he fucked her mouth. With a hoarse panting moan, he dropped to his elbows, his body bowed over hers. 27

Morgan Hawke As she tongue-lashed him Cassandra ran a hand over his back and down his firm ass. A fine sheen of sweat had formed at the base of his spine; his muscles were taut and vibrating. He was getting ready to cum. Quickly she formed a tight ring on his shaft around the base of his cock, just above the balls, restraining his ejaculation. He thrust hard, holding his iron hard cock in her mouth, a hoarse painful moan escaping his lips. He tried again. Cassandra’s fingers held firm. With a vicious oath he reared back and sat up. His cock slipped out of her mouth with a wet pop, slapping upright against his belly. “Going somewhere without me?” Cassandra purred. The Magister grabbed Cassandra bodily. She yelped in surprise as he flipped her over onto her tummy. Firmly, he gripped her hips and hauled her up on her knees. “I am the Master here,” he snarled, “I will not be controlled by one such as you.” He fisted his hand in her red tresses and pulled her head back firmly but with surprising gentleness. She felt his fingers delve into her damp core, exploring her wet and ready flesh. Now we’re getting somewhere! She thought to herself. He burrowed his fingers into her, then thrust deeply but slowly again and again. Curling his fingers, he stroked her walls from within. Cassandra shuddered in excitement, rocking back against his fingers, fucking herself against his palm. Warmth curled in her belly as she realized that she was damn close to cumming. “Fuck me!” she hissed in impatience. “Fuck me 28

Demoness now!” Pulling his fingers out of her, she felt the heated tip of his cock pressing against her wet and hungry opening. He pulled her back against him and shoved into her depths with a grunt. Cassandra moaned as he filled her, his width stretching her walls deliciously. To her complete surprise, he laid himself full against her arched back then reached an arm around her hip. His fingers found and rubbed against her swollen clit. Cassandra bucked her hips back against him as the salacious pleasure propelled her toward the brink of a vicious orgasm. She mewled in frustration as her pleasure stayed just out of her grasp. The Magister took that moment to pull back, then buried himself to the hilt in a long deep stroke. He shoved deeply in again, and again, and again. Cassandra moaned and thrust herself back against him in perfect timing. They increased in speed until the loud wet slapping of his thighs against her ass filled the room. His hand never left her clit as he rubbed and rubbed. Suddenly Cassandra felt the unmistakable quiver that meant she was about to cum. Panting, she gripped the fur in both hands as she rocked herself back against the hard cock slamming into her hungry pussy. Her breath caught and she froze as her climax suddenly rippled, then cascaded through her quivering body. She felt her inner walls tremble, clenching powerfully around his lodged flesh. Power flared down her spine to envelope her, raising the fine hairs. She heard him howl as her power pulled him 29

Morgan Hawke forcibly into an orgasm, his cum spewing into her welcoming body, her inner flesh squeezing and sucking him dry. Breathlessly, they fell onto the furs wrapped in each other’s arms. Cassandra pulled him into a soulsucking kiss that he answered with enthusiasm. Tongues lashed against each other, tasting the spent passion of the other. “If it weren’t for the Monsignor, I would keep you for myself,” the Magister growled breathlessly. “I guess you’ll just have to conjure me again, when you haven’t got a project for me,” Cassandra murmured with a smirk. “In the meantime...” **** She was fast asleep and dreaming... The stone room was dank, but amazingly clean. Torches flickered and smoked on the walls. A man in long red robes sat in a tall, throne-like wooden chair. She couldn’t see his face, but she could clearly see the face of the beautiful girl that knelt at his feet. There were tears running down her cheeks. She blinked her huge blue eyes, and her full lips trembled. She was dressed in a simple gown of sheer cotton. Platinum blond tresses slid down her back and pooled on the floor in a silvery cape. The cool blue glow of power shimmered from his upraised palms to the kneeling girl. “Tell me again that you love me,” he said in a voice that oozed tenderness. “I love you,” she said in a voice that wavered with 30

Demoness emotion. She meant every word, and yet the tears did not halt. “Kiss my slipper.” She couldn’t get down on the floor fast enough. She rubbed her face on the velvet slipper and pressed fervent kisses on the toe. “Who sent you?” he asked softly. She sat up and her mouth worked, but no sound came from her throat. She shook her head and the tears fell faster. “I thought that you loved me?” “I do, I do—.” She tried again, but no sound came from her lips. She sobbed openly. “Then you do not love me.” He sighed and pushed her away with his foot. She fell back with great gasping cries, then curled into a ball on the stone floor. “Lieutenant,” he said softly. “Bring the scarf.” “Yes, your worship,” replied someone from the shadows. “No!” The maiden screamed out. “Please! I love you, I’ll do anything, anything, please!” “Then tell me who sent you,” said the man in red robes. His voice lashed at her like a whip. She tried then shook her head in frustration. “I want to, but the words won’t come, I can’t tell you.” “Then I can’t save you,” he said with grave gentleness. “Only the name of the one who sent you can save you.” She collapsed on the floor at his feet, sobbing hysterically. “No? Then your fate is sealed.” He rose from the 31

Morgan Hawke chair, pulling the hem of his long scarlet robes from her clutching fingers. “Sire?” someone inquired from the shadows. “I am done with her.” He sighed. “Very good, sire.” “However, her tears pleased me. Leave her maidenhead intact and strangle her swiftly. Let her die a virgin.” **** Cassandra jerked awake. What the Hell was that? Her inner roommate shifted below her skin. A viewing, it sighed within her mind. Of the Monsignor. That really happened? Oh, yes. There was no disguising the pleasure it felt. It liked killing... This is what I have to seduce? Oh, yes, sighed her roommate. It was a long time before sleep came back to Cassandra.

32

Demoness

Chapter Three: Adorned

C

assandra was awakened, and grumbling, she was pulled from the Magister’s huge bed by four very short but strapping maids. The light of a single candle relieved the utter darkness. She was then escorted, wrapped in a sheet, to a room that had obviously been originally set up for her. A room she hadn’t slept in. A huge fire roared in an enormous fireplace before a massive four-poster bed. Once again a wooden tub had been filled with water, this time for her alone. With a judicious use of her demonic power, she heated the water herself, then stepped into the tub. The water came up to her neck as she sat down. With a cozy sigh, she settled in for a soak. Two huge horse-faced women came tromping in. They grabbed her arms and went after her with harsh soap and rough rags, determined to scrub her within an inch of her life. “Hey! Cut that shit out!” Cassandra howled in indignation. After a large amount of slopped water, 33

Morgan Hawke Cassandra stood up and pushed them off of her. “Look, I’m already clean, damn it! Unlike everybody else around here, I fucking bathe every damn day!” She held out her arms for them to see. They ignored her words and lunged forward. “I said stop!” Cassandra commanded, her voice laced with demonic depth. Power flared in a corona around her, flames blazed up on her skin in a wash of heat. Her hair floated up to wave in the infernal wind. The water in the tub bubbled and steamed in a boil she didn’t feel. The two women screamed and fell away, cowering on the floor. “That’s more like it,” Cassandra hissed. “I will bathe myself, and if you are good I won’t char you to ashes,” she growled. The image of the two women writhing and screaming in flames danced entertainingly through her thoughts. I don’t remember being this bloodthirsty, Cassandra mused, a little puzzled. The women whimpered in fright, too scared to move. After a nice soak, Cassandra allowed them to dry her off with a huge sheet. With much bowing, they showed her some blown-glass bottles in vivid colors. The rich scents of exotic oils wafted from the open vials. With deference, they offered to rub her skin with the rich unguents. Agreeing to this, Cassandra was encouraged to lie on her back on top of a clean sheet spread over a thick carpet on the floor by the fire. Her feet were massaged, then their hands swept up her long 34

Demoness muscular legs. Strong fingers worked the oil into her thighs, then swept through the short pelt of her trimmed pussy. They rolled her on her side and dove into the seam of her thighs, under her ass, then in the furrow of her butt cheeks. Cassandra moaned in warm pleasure as their hands smoothed over her tummy and dug into her firm ass. She was encouraged to sit up. Her waist was oiled and cooed over for its narrowness. Up her ribcage the hands slid across her back, then over her shoulders and around her breasts. Their touch circled closer and closer to her pointed nipples, finally massaging them with an open palm, then pinching them lightly, giving her little jolts of pleasure that streaked straight to her pussy. Her neck was oiled, wrapping her in a cloud of scent. Hands stroked down her arms, paying special attention to her hairless armpits and each individual finger. Encouraged by the maids, she tasted a delicate powder they wanted to dust her body with. She discovered that it was sweet, super-fine sugar. With a puff of sheepskin, she was dusted with the very fine, delicate powder. Gently they covered her from her throat, all over her breasts, down her thighs and over her firm ass. They paid close attention to her pussy, sweeping the sheepskin deep into her pink flesh. Sugaring me up for my appointment with the Monsignor, she figured. Giggling at Cassandra’s reaction to the sweet dust, they helped her sit on a low stool. Gold silk stockings were rolled up her glossy hairless legs to just above her knee. The maids whispered and muttered as they 35

Morgan Hawke explored the silky smoothness of her shaved shins. Too bad they’re all nasty looking, or this could have been very interesting, Cassandra thought in amusement. Ribbon garters were tied into bows below her knees to keep the stockings up. She looked down into the face of the maid sitting between her thighs and tying her garters. Hmm, this one’s not too bad, she thought with a wicked gleam in her eye. The maid appeared to be younger. She looked more like someone in her late teens than the rest of the horse-faced hausfraus, and she looked fairly clean. “Wait,” Cassandra said, as the maid started to rise. The girl froze and turned to her in trepidation. “What is your name?” Cassandra asked her and waved the other maids away. “I’m Flora, Mistress,” the chit whispered in fright. “Well, Flora, I want you to do something for me.” The young maid’s fear was palpable and it was exciting her. “Yes, Mistress?” “I want you to kiss me,” Cassandra said very softly. “I want you to kiss me here,” she said, spreading her thighs and presenting her freshly oiled and sugar-dusted pussy. “Kiss you?” Flora blinked up at her. “There?” Oh, goody! A virgin to cunnilingus! How nice. Cassandra thought wickedly. “Yes, Flora, kiss me there. I am the Mistress, and you must do as I say.” Now.” Flora whimpered, but bent forward and pressed soft lips on the inverted cross of Cassandra’s closely 36

Demoness trimmed mound. “Very nice... Now, lick it, right here,” she whispered using her carmine nails to part the plump petals of her mons, revealing the pink inner flesh of her damp and voracious pussy. “Lick it all, Flora. Lick everything.” Flora’s little tongue touched her delicately, then with more enthusiasm as the sugar melted into Cassandra’ pearly essence. Cassandra moaned in appreciation. “Yes, my sweet girl, a little harder, a little quicker and don’t miss anything.” Flora grabbed at Cassandra’s knees for support and went at it with a will. Her tongue slathered all over Cassandra’s delicate and hungry flesh, then speared into the narrow and dripping gate to her womb. The sound of delightful slurping filled the chamber. Cassandra sighed as bliss began to roll up her body in slow waves. I see I have a convert; a little lesbian in the making, Cassandra chuckled to herself. “Yes, my sweet girl, now lick me here,” she said and pointed her finger at her clit. I am really getting off on this total control thing. Flora poked her tongue at the tiny nubbin of flesh, then licked. “Mmm! Delightful girl!” Cassandra said in appreciation. “A little harder and a little quicker... Yes,” she hissed as a wave of pleasure gripped her and threatened to spill over. “Just a little bit more,” Cassandra said as she began to fight for breath. Her hips rocked forward onto Flora’s mouth. 37

Morgan Hawke Cassandra felt her orgasm begin to crest. She reached out and grabbed Flora by the hair and mashed her pussy against Flora’s mouth and working tongue, raising her bottom from the stool to fuck the girl’s face. Harshly, Cassandra pinched her own nipples and heat flooded up from her pussy in a wave of demonic power, rushing through her in a shrieking, clenching crushing climax. Cassandra felt her creamy woman cum pool, then douse Flora’s face. She barely heard Flora’s whimpers as Cassandra’s power slammed into the little virgin to give her an orgasm of her own. “Good girl,” Cassandra panted, dropping to the stool in gratified exhaustion. Flora slumped, panting over her knee, her face shiny with Cassandra’s pleasure. The other maids had cowered in the corner. Cassandra lifted the maid’s face and brushed her lips across her forehead. Flora opened her eyes, blushed furiously, then bolted from the room. Cassandra raised a speculative brow as she watched the maid flee. I wonder how long it’s going to take her to find a girlfriend? Looking down at the glistening moisture streaking her thighs, Cassandra sighed. “I guess I’m going to need more sugar.” The rest of the maids crept back to Cassandra. The jar of sugar powder was reopened. She was puffed with the honey-dust, then helped into a flimsy gold chemise with delicate lace framing her throat. It was held closed with tiny bows from the neck down. The 38

Demoness maids lifted up a red velvet gown that had been draped across the black silk damask comforter of the poster bed. My, my, my... No panties? How shameless! Cassandra thought to herself with a snicker. Looks like we are not even going to pretend what I’m going to be doing. Cassandra cooed over the velvet in appreciation. It was the most beautiful dress she had ever seen. It was long-sleeved, and covered in gold trim with tiny bows. Garnet and onyx jewels winked like stars all over the corset-like bodice. The gown also opened all the way down the front and was held closed only by a row of gold-tipped ribbons that tied across the gilded bodice. Once she was helped into it, Cassandra was pleased to see that the square neckline of the gown pushed her breasts up invitingly. “Hmm, definitely something meant to get out of in a hurry,” Cassandra said softly to herself as the maids placed matching slippers on her feet. They could have never been called shoes; they were far too delicate to ever be worn outside. After a final dusting of the honey powder across her breasts, one of the maids stood back to look at her and frowned. Then to Cassandra’s surprise, the maid dipped her hands into Cassandra’s bodice and scooped her breasts up until the nipples rested at the very edge of the bodice, barely concealed by the lace. Apparently pleased with the effect, the maid then shoved Cassandra into a low chair before a vanity with a gilded mirror. With a look of fierce determination, the maid picked up a hairbrush. “Wow,” was all that Cassandra could say as she 39

Morgan Hawke gazed upon herself in the mirror. Using heated iron rods, her hair had been skillfully curled and piled in a magnificent heap atop her head. Onyx and garnet pins held it up with a gold ribbon threaded through the mass. One pull on that ribbon and the whole thing would come tumbling down. The maids opened the glass and jewel pots of make-up. This was where Cassandra figured she’d better take over. She absolutely refused to have them rub her face with the creamy white and poisonously lead-based facial make-up. Instead she gently dusted her cheeks and forehead with the sweet powder. Using her fingertips, she dusted her lids liberally with a gold dust, darkening the corners with an amethyst purple powder. She looked over the collection of glass pots and frowned. Is that what I think it is? She lifted a tiny alabaster pot with a gold lid that was filled with something that looked like finely ground soot. A small, ivory stick with a rounded tip was tied to the pot with a scarlet ribbon. A maid leaned at her elbow, presenting her with a tiny clear vial full of a thick golden liquid. At Cassandra’s nod, the maid opened the vial and poured a small amount of viscous, unscented oil into a shallow dish no bigger than her palm. Cassandra plucked the ivory stick from the jar. Good thing I read that article in the National Geographic on ancient Egypt and how they used this stuff, Cassandra thought in amusement. I had no idea that the Medieval French used powdered kohl too! She rolled the ivory stick in the tiny dish of oil, and then dipped the oiled stick 40

Demoness into the pot of black powder. Gently she outlined her eyes and darkened her lashes. A dark red powder was presented to Cassandra. She sniffed it suspiciously. It smelled like very clean dirt. Oiling her lips lightly, she then brushed her lips with the red powder. Her lips took the stain quickly and darkened to a deep crimson. She added a touch of gold dust and achieved a glistening ruby that went nicely with her nails. She smiled at her reflection. Cassandra was hustled out of the room and hurried down the halls by the clucking maids. At the top of a staircase, the maids set her free and bade her go down. Carefully lifting the gold and velvet skirts, Cassandra glided down the broad staircase.

41

Morgan Hawke

Chapter Four: Appointment

A

s she descended the stairs in her silent slippers, Cassandra noticed the Magister waiting at the bottom. His strong blunt hand rested on the newel post as he gazed out the wide-open double doors. Well, I guess he’s not a vampire, she mused as she admired the way the sunlight defined the strong planes of his face. He really does clean up nice, she thought in appreciation. He looked dashing to Cassandra in his suit of black velvet trimmed in silky black fur. Tiny jewels of garnet and onyx winked amongst the heavy folds of his robes. His hair gleamed clean and golden in the streaming sunlight. The Magister jerked around as he caught the sound of her whispering velvets. His eyes opened wide as he gazed upon her. Cassandra bathed in the glow of his admiration as she descended the last few steps. He bowed deeply, and Cassandra found herself answering with not too bad of a curtsy. “You could seduce a saint, my Lady Malora,” the 42

Demoness Magister said softly with a heated gleam in his eye. He dropped a velvet cape across her shoulders winking with garnet and onyx stars, matching his suit then offered his arm. “Let’s hope your priest won’t be as difficult as all that,” Cassandra murmured back. Gently the Magister took her elbow and guided her out the massive front door to a carriage pulled by six paired black horses. The conveyance was huge, wooden and bulky with grooms riding on all three of the horses on the left. The harnesses were intricate with gold buckles and black plumes on the headstalls of all six horses. A full complement of armed guards rode before and behind in matching gold and black livery. Cassandra was seated on the plush cushions of the heavily curtained narrow carriage with the Magister on the seat across from her. He yelled out the window, and the carriage jolted forward onto the uneven paving of the road. “So, Master, what’s the plan? How do I go about seducing this priest of yours?” Cassandra asked over the thunder of the wooden wheels on the uneven road. “He has a fondness for dancers, the more exotic the better. I told him that I have the most fabulous dancer known to man imported from the furthest reaches of the world. Naturally he had to see you, so I have made an appointment for you.” “That sounds simple enough.” “Keep in mind, he has armed guards around him always. If you say or do anything to arouse his 43

Morgan Hawke suspicions, he will have you dragged away to be tortured, then killed.” “This is getting more problematic by the moment.” The memory of the dream, or rather, the viewing that her inner roommate had shown her came back in vivid detail. A chill ran down Cassandra’s spine. “You must be very careful, Malora. He could easily figure out what you are. He is a sorcerer in his own right.” “Oh, joy,” Cassandra, whispered with heavy sarcasm. “Just don’t say anything. Smile, and for His Infernal Lord’s sake, keep your eyes lowered! You don’t want him catching sight of the hellfire in your gaze.” “Do they really glow with hellfire?” Cassandra was pleased. Where’s a hand mirror when you need one? “When you are aroused by your passions, your eyes glow flame gold. You must get him under your spell quickly, then alone to seduce him.” “Is there anything else I need to know?” “His spells are fueled by the fact that he is a virgin. Once you bring him to climax, his magic will be broken. If you can get him to climax within your body, he will be completely helpless and at your mercy. You will then be able to carry him off to your Infernal Master. Once you have him, your mission will be done and you will be free to go.” “All I have to do is make him cum?” Cassandra’s eyes gleamed. “Sounds like a cake-walk to me. Wait, how ugly is this guy? And how old is he?” Cassandra suddenly imagined a battle of epic proportions with 44

Demoness her libido. If he turned out to be too nasty, she’d have a real problem touching him, never mind letting him into her body. “He’s considered angelic in his physical beauty, and he’s a mature twenty-two.” The Magister sounded disgusted. “He’s resisted every attempt to seduce him so far. He’s so beautiful that every girl we sent to him became enamored with him and confessed before they were able to finish what they were sent for. We suspect that his sorcery merely enhances his personal charm.” “What happened to the girls?” “He had them killed, naturally. By strangling.” “Naturally, by strangling.” Cassandra swallowed in sympathy. “What made you decide on conjuring up a demon?” “His magic was too powerful for any ordinary mortal woman to resist. The most talented courtesans and dancers we could find were all overcome with love for him in a matter of minutes. It was decided that we needed something stronger and more resistant to his spells.” “And so, here I am. I can’t wait to pit my, um, powers against his.” She could feel her inner roommate’s confidence. “I just have one more question. What has this guy done, besides killing dancers, that you felt the need to have him carried off to Hell by a demon?” She raised her hands. “Don’t get me wrong, killing dancers is good enough reason for me.” “He is a Holy Inquisitor. He insists that he is just 45

Morgan Hawke here on a visit, but he has been here for a full month. There are many sorcerers here in Paris. They’re afraid that they will be discovered. He only needs to find one of us and he will find us all.” “Am I really seducing one of the Spanish Inquisition?” The Magister nodded and Cassandra dissolved into a fit of giggles. “That is so funny! I’ve always wanted a chance at one of those fuckers!” “I assure you, Malora, it is no laughing matter for us.” The Magister frowned heavily, his arms folded against his chest. “Let’s see how the Spanish Inquisition handles a real live demon.” She licked her lips in anticipation. “This ought to be fun! And, as to him being too pretty for me to resist, I really don’t think I’ll have a problem, I’ve seen far too many truly gorgeous hunks in my life to be impressed by anyone,” she said with a chuckle. As if, this century could come up with anything that would impress me, she though to herself. I’d like to see this guy compete with Lorenzo Lamas, or even Nicholas Cage! Cassandra mused in silence for some minutes, then a thought occurred to her. This guy is used to being around some of the most beautiful women in this world. She pursed her lips. I know I’m damn cute, but… It probably couldn’t hurt to stack the deck just a little. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on finding her inner darkling roommate, the power that swam under her skin. It pushed through the waves of the inner sea of her being, then swelled closer to her thoughts, shy as a cat. She held a question out to the tide of power, 46

Demoness forming her thought as clearly as she could. The power joyfully overtook her body in a warm wave that washed her completely from toe to hair-tip. A light scent of sulfur and Egyptian musk wafted very gently in the close confines of the rocking coach. “What are you doing?” the Magister asked in hushed tones. “Let’s just say I’m tipping the scales a little more in my favor.” Cassandra was surprised to discover that the power had more than arisen to the task. Her voice was suddenly incredibly melodious and sultry. She opened her eyes. “What do you think?” “Malora, what exactly have you done?” The Magister was panting, his fists gripped the handles of the coach with white knuckles. There was a pronounced bulge under his codpiece. “Why, I’ve made myself irresistible, of course.” She smiled and the Magister choked in reaction. “So, what do you think? Will I do?” Cassandra batted her lashes at him. The Magister answered by falling to his knees. With shaking hands he lifted her skirts. Cassandra parted her thighs and smiled as he buried his face in her fragrant pussy. His tongue was delicious and hot as he delved into the delicate folds, sucking and lapping noisily. The point of his tongue found her clit and he teased it mercilessly. Mmm, twice in one day! I’m doing good! Opening herself wide, Cassandra leaned back against the cushions and raised her hips to his mouth. Using the full length of his tongue, he burrowed into her wet depths, stabbing in and fucking her with it. As she 47

Morgan Hawke writhed under the delicate torture of his lips and tongue, he released her thighs. He pulled a glove off of one hand to sink two fingers into her soaking flesh, and then stroked them slowly in, then out. He fluttered his tongue against her sensitive clit and she moaned deeply. Unable to stop herself, she gripped his hair in her hand and rolled, crushing her pussy against his lips. Moaning, Cassandra shook as the pleasure rose up. He lapped noisily as she soaked him in her pearly juices. Her demonic power stirred to sudden and ferocious life and rapture blazed through her. The Magister cried out as her power shoved him into an orgasm his body was helpless to resist. He cried out against her flesh even as she sighed in repletion. “Did you just cum in your pants?” Cassandra asked in delighted wickedness. “Demonic bitch,” he swore as he pulled out a silk handkerchief to clean himself. A shout from one of the coachmen hurriedly brought the Magister back to his seat. In a clatter of shod hooves, the coach rumbled to a jerky halt. Men shouted all around them and horses called out in indignation. The Magister pulled out a second lace handkerchief from his embroidered sleeve. Quickly he wiped his face of her essence, taking a moment to savor the aroma before tucking the bit of lace away. Cassandra stretched like a well-fed cat on the cushions then tucked her skirts back into place. “Thank you, that was very nice,” she purred. Her smile was completely lascivious. “Malora, we have arrived,” he said, passion 48

Demoness coloring his voice. “You realize that one way or another, this is farewell.” “I guess it is.” Cassandra touched his sleeve. “Take care of yourself, Master, I had a wonderful time.” Their gazes locked. So far anyway… “That reminds me,” the Magister said. Darting to her side like a snake, he grabbed her gently but firmly by the throat. Using his free hand, he made a gesture and muttered something in a quick spat of Latin. Cassandra choked as she felt something settle around her throat. “What the hell?” Her words came out in a torrent of nonsense. Touching her neck with her fingers, she could feel nothing; but Something was definitely there and it was messing with her ability to speak. “Although you will understand everything spoken around you, you will not be understood,” The Magister said as he tugged his gloves back on. “I can understand you as I placed the spell, but I cannot have you reveal and betray me should you fail and be put under torture.” The Magister looked unhappy, but determined. “This was done to all the maids we sent to him so that they could not reveal us through confession under torture. I’m sorry, but it had to be done for you as well.” “Fuck you,” Cassandra said with venom. Yup, she thought as she saw him flinch, he can understand every word. The coach door was jerked open. Cassandra followed him through the narrow wooden coach door and gasped at the door they were within feet of. Dark pillars and carvings soared 49

Morgan Hawke several stories high around a door carved with hoards of people contorted and in agonizing pain. She found herself staring up at a monstrous king overlooking the door – and staring right back. The carved head tilted down to stare wide eyed and intimidating. Wait a minute! I know this place! She looked sharply around. Where have I seen this before? Cassandra felt her elbow grabbed and was jerked through the open door by the Magister. She jerked her elbow back and glared as he led her into a broad hall. Someone in long red robes was waiting for them at the end of the hall. “Keep your eyes down,” the Magister whispered sharply. Cassandra dropped her gaze to the stones at her feet. A touch on her elbow stopped her. “I would like to present to you the dancer Serena.” The Magister’s voice was rich but humble as he bowed. Cassandra curtsied in a graceful fall of red velvet and gold lace. Serena? Cassandra thought with a start. Well, he could have warned me that he was changing my name. She tilted her head as she thought about it. I guess it makes sense. He thinks Malora is my demonic name and he certainly wouldn’t want the Inquisitor to have that. Serena is not too bad a choice. Though it’s a good thing Television hasn’t been invented yet or he’d catch the ‘Bewitched’ reference, as in: Samantha’s wicked sister. “The dancer Serena. Well, she certainly is lovely,” the Monsignor, said in a soft melodious voice. He cupped a velvet-gloved hand under Cassandra’s chin and raised her face to look upon her. 50

Demoness Startled, she looked up into his blue eyes before veiling her eyes with her lashes. Well, he certainly is pretty, Cassandra thought. She looked up carefully at the Monsignor from below her lashes as she continued to kneel. He could give Leonardo DeCaprio a run for his money, but I’m not about to fall down in a swoon over him. She examined the Monsignor of the Holy Inquisition. He looked very young in his holy robes of black and scarlet. Not too bad a body on him, but I’ve seen better. She smiled. This will be a cakewalk. “And clean, how novel,” the Monsignor murmured. Cassandra felt a flicker of cool power and realized that the little sorcerer was trying to en-spell her. She smiled as it fizzled against her own volcanic demonborne power. Her roommate took that opportunity to ride the backwash of his spell and slide into the Monsignor, reversing the effects of the fizzled love spell. The Monsignor frowned, a crease puckering his smooth and oh-so-perfect brow. Then his eyes opened wide, as though seeing Cassandra for the first time. He licked his lips. Oh, look! She thought in delight. I’m seeing lust at first sight! Cassandra thought maliciously. Let’s see how you like the tables turned on you, my Pretty Boy! Cassandra could practically smell the carnal appetite rolling off of him. He released her chin. “You may rise,” he said in his soft, beautiful voice. Cassandra rose to her full height and gazed down 51

Morgan Hawke at the ever-so-Holy Monsignor. He was taller than the Magister, but still not quite up to Cassandra’s eye level. Everyone is so short around here! she thought in barely concealed amusement. “She’s an Amazon, as well.” The Monsignor’s brow rose with a touch of distain. “I prefer them a little more delicate. Let us hope she’s worth all the food she must go through for her upkeep,” he practically sneered, then looked hard at the Magister. “You are clean as well,” his delicate brows raised in surprise. “I can actually stand to be in your presence for once,” he said then turned away. What a little prick! Cassandra mused with a flash of temper. I’m going to enjoy taking this little shit down then I’m going to enjoy making him scream as he cums in my Gate to Hell. Cassandra was just a little startled by her own vehemence. “A dancer, you say,” the Monsignor drawled in apparent boredom. “I will see her then, and we shall see what entertainments she can provide.” The Monsignor turned a sharp gaze to the Magister. “If she proves to be as unique an experience as you promise, I shall see that you are amply rewarded.” “Truly, there is no one like Serena in the known world. As to a reward, Monsignor, your pleasure will be my reward,” deferred the Magister from a deep bow. Truth rang in every word he uttered. At a gesture from the Monsignor, a blank-faced guard dressed in long red robes and armor stepped forward with a subtle clank and bowed to Cassandra. With a last curtsey to the Monsignor and a final dip of her head to the Magister, she turned and strode after 52

Demoness the guard.

53

Morgan Hawke

Chapter Five: Danse Macabre

T

he palace where the Monsignor was staying was epic in proportions. She’d seen stadiums smaller than this. Everything was done in white marble and red velvet. Religious paintings, and not so religious Greek pastoral paintings all in gilt frames decorated all the walls. Frescos were painted directly on the plaster in some places. Tall marble nude statues of plump women sat in niches everywhere. What a little hedonist! Cassandra thought to herself as she followed the guard to the very end of a long corridor. A pair of two-story heavily gilded oak doors was opened for her, and a red curtain was pushed aside. Cassandra ducked within, and the guard closed the doors behind her. The room was dark, huge and empty of all furnishings. The floors were china smooth and done in white marble. Two massive white marble fireplaces warmed the room on opposing walls. Heavily curtained windows that reached from floor to ceiling covered the entire back 54

Demoness wall. The room was lit with several braziers and not a few standing candelabras, but shadows swamped the far corners. In one corner sat three musicians. Together they rose and approached. One of them was the Gypsy she had kissed for her last performance. He grinned in feral greeting, his eyes still alive with the hellfire she had given him with her kiss. “Well met, my Lady,” bowed the possessed Gypsy. “You seem to be popular around town,” quipped Cassandra with a smile. “Everywhere I go, there you are,” she said to the Gypsy, then flinched. Every word she’d uttered had come out garbled. Damn. “I count myself blessed to be in your presence once again, and I have indeed grown popular about town lately. Especially since our last encounter.” He was smiling but his eyes held a strangely possessive heat “You can understand me?” Cassandra asked in some surprise. “Of course. It is your power that lives within me, I hear you in here.” He tapped his brow. “My ears hear nonsense, but I understand you. It seems that I have reaped many benefits since you touched me with the gift of your kiss. I have a sense of someplace called North America, and music called Rock and Roll that whispers through my soul.” He finished in barely a whisper. “I’m...pleased,” Cassandra said. Actually, she was seriously creeped the fuck out. “Speaking of gifts, I would like to present my two brothers, and I ask that you bestow your kiss upon them as well.” Beside him stood two other musicians, 55

Morgan Hawke one with a round frame drum and the other held an odd-looking violin-type instrument. Both of the other musicians appeared to be scared to death. Cassandra stepped toward the two brothers. They practically shook with terror. “Are you sure I need to? They don’t look too happy about being kissed.” “They must have your gift or they will not survive the evening.” He leveled his blazing eyes at the pair, promising retribution in their flaming depths. “They will not be able to accompany me without it. They will accept your kiss, or they will be dragged away by the Holy Inquisition where their deaths will be painful and slow.” So much for brotherly love, Cassandra thought with a flinch. He motioned to the brothers. A large man with a balding head and a huge mustache came forward first. “Kneel,” he was ordered by the Gypsy. The huge man dropped to his knees. The power whispered up from her inner sea and lapped at the very edge of her thoughts. Gently Cassandra cupped his not-so-clean chin in her palm, and looked into his terrified eyes. Mouth open she kissed him. He opened his mouth under hers, his tongue reaching out to stroke hers gently. Cassandra felt the warm wave of power crest to the surface, then pour into the captive Gypsy. He fell back stunned and blinking. His eyes glazed, then blazed forth with a look of vicious triumph. Sitting up he grabbed the last one by his slender arm and shoved him to his knees before Cassandra. The slender boy, no more than eighteen, gulped in fear 56

Demoness but bravely tilted his chin up for his kiss and closed his eyes. Cassandra touched her lips gently to his, then felt the power arc and slam into his young frame. He collapsed back onto the floor, stunned for a moment. After shaking himself like a wet dog, he rose with an ugly laugh, then stalked over to his brothers to slap them on the back. All three stood in a halfcircle by Cassandra and smiled in ways their human mouths had never intended. “You may call me Andre,” bowed the first Gypsy, the gold coins glittering on his coat in the candlelight. “And I am completely at your service, my Lady. He is called Balthazar,” Andre continued as he gestured toward the larger mustachioed Gypsy. “I am at your service, Lady,” the large Gypsy with the bristling mustache bowed. “And I am Nickos,” bowed the smallest of the three. “I am also at your service. “We are all at your service,” they said in unison. All three sets of black eyes glittered with unholy light as they continued to smile in a completely inhuman manner. They all dipped into another bow, then turned as one and strode away. In a far corner, they settled onto cushions thrown on the marble floor, under a lit candelabrum, to tune their instruments. They watched her with hunger glittering in their eyes. Okay, so that was just a bit too weird, even for me, she thought to herself. I wonder if that was a smart thing to do? Nonplussed, Cassandra moved away from them and started doing leg-stretching exercises. Not an easy thing in the bulky gown. An army of servants suddenly poured silently 57

Morgan Hawke from doors she hadn’t realized were there. Thick carpets were rolled out and laid on the marble floor. A throne-like heavy wooden and chair cushioned in red velvet was carried in and a small table was set beside it with an exquisite decanter of dark red wine. A single crystal goblet was set beside the decanter. Cassandra eyed the chair. Where have I seen that chair before? She frowned grimly. Oh yes, the viewing...This is the same guy, all right. A rope from the ceiling lowered a huge crystal chandelier. Candles were lit and the chandelier was raised, glowing like a captive star and filling the room with a blaze of light. Both fires were built up in the fireplaces to raging bonfires, filling the room with heat. Just as suddenly, the servants rushed out in a sudden tide of rustling fabric and withdrawing bodies. In minutes, Cassandra was alone again with only the three musicians. Only moments later, the tinkling of bells announced the main doors being opened. Cassandra noticed the red hood and golden mane of the Monsignor as the curtain was lifted for him. Cassandra dropped into a graceful bow. I simply must remember how to do this once I’m home! The Monsignor seated himself in the velvet throne with two hulking, blank-faced guards at his back. One of the guards filled the glass from the decanter and handed it to him. The Monsignor sipped the red wine reflectively, then gestured with two fingers. “You may begin,” he announced into the echoing silence. The musicians struck a chord. In that instant she 58

Demoness knew exactly what they were going to play. The modern rock music translated strangely through their medieval instruments, but the pounding tune was unmistakable. “Stairway to Heaven” had never sounded quite so exotic. In response to their music, Cassandra’s power surged to the surface, from every pore of her skin to wrap her in a heated blanket. Cassandra felt a veil dropping over her eyes and thoughts. No! She protested to the rising flood of demonic possession. I want to see this! The veil obligingly dropped away, but her body was no longer hers to command. The power inundated her completely and her possession was absolute. She abruptly whirled in a circle, cavorting to the smoky strains of the infernal rock music played by the possessed Gypsies. The bejeweled pins flew from her flaming curls to scatter across the floor. The golden ribbon in her hair slithered out, her deep red mane cascading about her as she danced a raw mixture of jazz steps with unbelievable ballet leaps. Her slippers were lost on a pair of highflying kicks. The ties across her bodice came undone during a twirl and she froze, poised for a leap as the red velvet gown swirled around her to puddle on the floor in a rich crimson heap. The music shifted to a slow sensuous piece. Revealed in her sheer golden chemise, she dropped to the floor and tiger-walked, crawling with a slow feral slink to the foot of the velvet throne. Gracefully, she rose to her knees, arms lifted above her head, lips parted, and eyes slitted as though in carnal delight. Arching backward, she touched her hands to the 59

Morgan Hawke floor, then raised her hips and spread her knees wide in invitation, showing her shaved mound and damp inner lips peeking through the part of the golden slip. Like a coiling snake, she slowly, slowly undulated her body then rolled over her head and under. Kicking her feet over her head, she lay face down on the floor, legs spread wide. In true stripper form, she rolled to her side, then bent her knee and raised one leg smoothly. Her scarlet nails trailed red lines across the tender skin of her inner thigh as she scored them aggressively. With an acrobatic roll she twisted sharply, then stood upright. Glancing from beneath lowered lashes, Cassandra watched as the Monsignor’s mouth dropped open. As though unable to help himself, he sat forward on the edge of his throne. Taking this for an invitation, Cassandra’s possessed body swayed toward the young man to stand before him, her hips swaying and torso rolling hypnotically from side to side. She raised her arms and exquisitely undulated her entire body slowly before him, tempting him to reach out and undo the tiny bows that held her golden chemise together. She purred as he reached out his soft fingers and pulled the golden ribbon ties. The chemise fell in a whisper of silk, revealing her pointed nipples and pouting breasts. Her muscular stomach rolled under his warm fingers as he touched her heated flesh. Slowly she turned to present her rounded buttocks, shaking them, the flesh jiggling invitingly. She dropped her hands to the floor as she stood straightlegged, presenting him with a close view of her most 60

Demoness feminine flesh, the folds parting to his hungry eyes. “Not a mark on you,” he said in wonder. “Not a single imperfection anywhere,” he sighed. The music whirled her away and she danced as only naked flesh could, without bindings or restraints. Her hair flying and muscles straining, she leapt and rolled, shivered and displayed herself to the Monsignor’s hungry gaze, and she danced, and she danced. “Enough!” the Monsignor suddenly shouted. The music crashed to a halt and Cassandra fell in a graceful obeisance, centered on the carpet. “Leave us!” he roared. The Gypsies rushed out, but the guards were hesitant. “Do you think I can’t defend myself against one naked girl?” he shouted angrily. The guards fled. Goody! Goody! Goody! ran in hysterical circles through Cassandra’s mind. Alone at last! “And now my sweet, come here,” the Monsignor commanded. She approached the throne, creeping across the rug, eyes demurely lowered, veiling her intent, on her hands and toes like a languorous cat advancing on the poor unsuspecting pigeon. Still wrapped in a warm sheet of demonic power, Cassandra’s body slithered up the throne without touching a single fold of his robes. Shyly, she gripped the arms of the heavy wooden chair then leaned toward the seated Monsignor, presenting her body for his perusal. The Monsignor’s palm touched the fine silk of her hair and he ran his fingers through her soft tresses. 61

Morgan Hawke His fingers trailed to the very ends of her curls where they rested against her breast. His fingers continued across the softness of her skin, then cupped her fullness in his cool dry palm. “You are exquisite, like a fine sculpture, Serena,” he whispered. His fingers found and explored a dusky pink nipple. Little jolts of pleasure streaked straight to her greedy pussy, making it contract hungrily. “I have never seen a woman as fine as you. Where did you come from?” “I’m from Canada,” she whispered as she knelt before the velvet throne. Naturally, the spell that the Magister placed on her scrambled her speech, not that the Monsignor would have known where Canada was anyway. “What a lovely voice,” the Monsignor mused as his other hand reached out to cup her other breast. “But, Lord Chevalier le Duc did tell me that you could not speak our language, although you would understand something of what was said.” Cassandra nodded with a soft moan as he played with her nipples, exploring them then gently tugging on them. “And so, because you cannot speak, you cannot share secrets. Is that not so, my little morsel?” His breath deepened to pants. His crystalline blue eyes were dilated with restrained desire. He licked his full pink lips. Cassandra nodded again. “Good,” the Monsignor growled in satisfaction, then dipped his head to her breast and took a nipple into his hungry mouth. 62

Demoness Cassandra moaned and turned her face carefully away. She could feel the blaze of hell-fire heating her eyes. He sucked hard on her sensitive nipple, cupping her breast and nursing as though starved. A trembling hand slid down her lightly curved belly to touch her trimmed mound. His fingers tugged at the short pelt sharply. A tiny whimper was surprised out of her, which seemed to please him. His fingers dipped lower to her wet folds, then he abruptly slid two fingers up into her. Cassandra hissed as he spread his fingers wide, scissoring them in her damp heat. She moaned in pleasure and rocked against his hand like a cat seeking to be stroked. “I have never touched a one as fine as you, Serena” he sighed. “You seem to be enjoying it too. No whimpering refusals of piety from your red lips?” Cassandra answered with a breathy sigh. “No declarations of love either? Not that I would understand your gibberish,” he mused aloud in curiosity. “You are a carnal little thing, aren’t you?” His voice was low and hoarse, betraying his own rising carnal needs. “Down!” he commanded, his voice harsh whisper. “Get on the floor.”

63

Morgan Hawke

Chapter Six: Scourged

I

t’s about damned time he decided to fuck me, Cassandra thought as she dropped full-length and face down on the thick carpet at the Monsignor’s feet, staring at his slippers. There was a rustle of fabric, and she watched as heavy red ecclesiastical robes landed on the floor by her head. “Turn around and face the door, quickly!” snarled the Monsignor. “Now, bring that lustful ass of yours up. Higher!” Cassandra complied, presenting her softly rounded bottom and the plump folds of her pussy to his view as he instructed. She turned to look over her shoulder. He was wearing only a thin white silk shift tied with a knotted rope. He undid the knot as she watched. Well, well, well, she thought in surprise, noticing the pronounced bulge tenting his robe. Who would have thought that such a little boy could hide such a large package? “Keep your head down!” he snapped as he tugged the rope free. “Cross your ankles.” 64

Demoness Cassandra ducked her head, resting it on her folded arms as she complied with his heated instructions. Crossing her ankles tucked her damp snatch within the protection of her ass-cheeks. She angled her head just a tiny bit so she could see him from the corner of her eye. He had wrapped the rope around his fist, with several of the knotted loops swinging free. “I will purge myself of these filthy, lustful thoughts,” he hissed. Oh shit! Cassandra had time to think when she heard the rope whistling through the air. It smacked into her left ass-cheek, and she yelped more in surprise than in any real pain. Another whistle sounded, then another loud smack, this time on her right ass-cheek. She heard herself squeak, and suddenly the blows were raining too fast for her to react to all of them. The warm burn was strangely pleasurable. From the strength of the arm he used to flog her, it should hurt a hell of a lot more. “I am a righteous man, I am a righteous man,” she heard him muttering over and over as he swung. She could hear him panting as he flogged her. The Monsignor grunted in effort as he carefully placed his blows on her ass, across her bowed back and around her thighs. The individual blows did not feel all that harsh, but one on top of the next succeeded in causing her to writhe as her ass heated up quickly. She arched her back and whimpered against the onslaught, whimpering in agonizing carnal, feral excited appetite. He was turning her on in a big way. 65

Morgan Hawke “I will purge your body of its carnal hunger as I purge mine,” he snarled through clenched teeth. Then he stopped. Cassandra collapsed on the floor. Hot tears slid down her flushed cheeks. These tears are absolutely fake, she thought in surprise. Like crocodile tears, Cassandra thought to herself as she peeked at the panting Monsignor. I’m not in any real pain. If anything she was feeling very close to climaxing. Her pussy was dripping down her thighs and on the rug. Spanking had always been a sure way to turn her on in a hurry, but this guy was serious and the Monsignor sure knew what he was doing with that rope. She should have been bloody. The Monsignor came forward then knelt right in front of her and lifted her tear-streaked face in his palms. His cock was standing practically straight up against his belly under his loose transparent robe. “Forgive me, little one,” he murmured as he touched her tears with gentle fingers. His eyes grew hot as he stroked her face. “It was necessary,” he said softly. “It was for your own good. I did it to save your soul.” Well, what do you know? Cassandra thought sarcastically as she veiled her eyes. He gets off on beating people to tears. The power possessing her body must have known exactly what the Monsignor had wanted, because he was sporting one hell of a hardon. The Monsignor curled his body over her face, practically rubbing his erection against her lips. Hell! Even I can take a hint! Cassandra thought in triumph. Her hands were under his robe and around his iron hard cock in a flash. She slid the cock sheath 66

Demoness of his uncircumcised prick down, revealing the sensitive purple head. Before he could pull away, Cassandra lunged forward then wrapped her lips around the swollen knob. With a skillful shove on his bare ass, she tipped him off-balance over her body and sucked him deep into her throat -- straight down to the short and curlies. The Monsignor gasped as he fell on top of her body. He caught himself on his hands, his nose practically buried in her reddened ass. He froze in astonishment, then choked as his body took over. His hips began to hunch, fucking her mouth. He moaned out loud, unable to stop the course of pleasure through his young body. I’m gonna make this fucker cum...Cassandra growled to herself. Using every skill she could think of, Cassandra sucked for all she was worth. Her tongue lashed the rock-hard cock sliding in and out of her heated mouth. She balanced on her elbows, using her hands to massage his balls and milk his shaft. She could feel how close he was to the edge, his movements were becoming frenzied and he moaned as though in pain. Any time now, she thought in delight. The Monsignor gave a shout, then abruptly rolled away, his cock still hard, his lust still unfulfilled. Well, shit, thought Cassandra as she lay on the floor, her knees tucked up under her. Now what? I never thought he’d last even that long. Cassandra kept her head down and peeked through her lashes. Damn. The Monsignor climbed to his feet and walked in a circle around her. Sexual frustration was written in 67

Morgan Hawke every line of his body. His eyes shone with feral heat as his gaze devoured her prone form. “Up!” he barked. “Up on your knees and we shall pray, my little carnal beast,” he growled. “Together.” Cassandra quickly sat up on her knees pressing her hands together and bowing her head in an attitude of prayer. The false tears started down her cheeks once more. She sank down, sitting on her heels. “I said up, you little beast!” The monsignor barked. The knotted rope made swift contact with her stillsore bum. Cassandra rose to balance on her knees with some speed. To her complete surprise, the Monsignor dropped to his knees directly behind her, then scooted close, his knees straddling the outsides of her shins. The light fur of his legs brushed against the smooth softness of the stockings she still wore. He wrapped his arms around her body; his hands clasped her pressed palms, then lifted her hands until her breasts were completely exposed. “We shall pray for forgiveness, for the lust that consumes us, the very devil in our bodies,” he growled in her ear. Cassandra choked, biting her lip to hide her startled grin. Little does he know! “We shall pray for resistance against temptation.” The Monsignor then began to loudly recite prayers in Latin with vigor. Cassandra noted that he was breathing heavily between phrases. There was also something hot and firm pressing against her ass. With just the tiniest bit of angling, she was able to work that heated prong into the crack of her ass. 68

Demoness The Monsignor continued unabated in his efforts to pray. His body however, began swaying, with his hard cock sliding along the seam of Cassandra’s firm ass. Using the Monsignor’s own momentum as he rocked in fervent prayer, Cassandra carefully worked his hard cock down her ass. With a bit of creative maneuvering she was able to get him to slip into the juncture of her plump thighs and up against her dripping pussy. His swollen cock-head seemed to know where it wanted to go and pressed against her wet opening as they rocked. Just a smidgeon more, Cassandra thought in grinding frustration. She spread her knees a teeny amount wider, then shoved back just a little. His cock-head slid just a bit into her moist opening then out. The Monsignor continued to sway and rock, his shaft cradled snugly in her thighs, his knob slipping into her wet nether-mouth slightly, then back out, then in, then back out. The Monsignor’s prayers continued in Latin, but his hands had slid down until he was openly cupping her breasts. Cassandra held her clasped palms in place, letting him squeeze the voluptuous weight of her full breasts, his fingers closed over her swollen nipples as though unable to stop himself. Pleasure began to coil in her belly. I hope he doesn’t chicken out again! she thought with determination. The Monsignor locked one arm around her and started to push his cock harder and deeper into her depths as he swayed. His prayers grew louder and more fervent. 69

Morgan Hawke Suddenly he was in, buried to the hilt, sinking into her as deep as his flesh would allow, stretching her wide, his balls pressing against her. She grunted as he clasped a breast painfully in one hand and pressed his palm against her belly to hold her still in his grasp. Cassandra felt the heat of her demonic power coil through her loins and center around the cock in her pussy, then make a grab. She felt the Monsignor shift his weight. Suddenly he was fucking her in earnest, his thighs slapping against her ass loudly in the echoing chamber as he hammered into her. She shuddered under his fevered thrusts. Still he continued in Latin, his phrases breaking as he panted, shafting her for all he was worth. The Latin phrases broke completely with the Monsignor repeating himself over and over, calling out to his God. Cassandra felt him shudder, then howl as he came in her. Caught off guard, Cassandra suddenly came herself, in a wash of demonic heat moaning in shattering rapture. The Monsignor weight shoved her forward, face down on the floor with the priest collapsed on top of her, “What have I done? My purity! I’ve lost my purity,” he sobbed. “Gotcha!” Cassandra snapped as she rolled out from under the shattered priest. On shaking legs she stood up. “Witch! You seduced me!” the Monsignor hissed through his tears. “I’ll have you burned, Witch!” he snarled as he lay on the floor. 70

Demoness “No, stupid, I’m not just a witch.” Cassandra grinned, showing him the full glory of her flame-lit eyes. “Damned!” he choked out. He flung out a hand and made an arcane gesture. Nothing happened. His power was no more. “That’s one way to put it. I’m a demon.” She giggled, just a little. “And, you’re not a virgin anymore, your spells don’t work pretty boy!” Cassandra hissed. Using her demon-borne strength, she pulled him almost violently, onto his feet by his throat. Gazing deep into his eyes she took his lips in a leisurely heated kiss, her tongue sweeping into his mouth to taste the ashes of his arousal.

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Chapter Seven: Poetic Justice

“G

uards! Guards!” the monsignor choked, scrabbling to break Cassandra’s powerful hold on his throat with both hands straining against her small wrists. A corona of heat washed from Cassandra’s skin, surrounding her in an aura of flame. Her body jerked and shuddered as the demonic presence flooded to the surface. She dropped the priest to the floor. Her mouth opened and words popped out deepened and heavy with infernal sibilance. “Hmm… Let us go somewhere more private…” That did not come from me! Cassandra thought in alarm. Her hand raised and slashed the air in a ripping motion. She hadn’t meant to do that either. Something was moving her limbs for her — she was merely a passenger in her own body. The room darkened until only the throne and the rug were visible, lit by the light that came from her flaming skin. Then she realized that there were no 72

Demoness walls, only complete and utter darkness past the edge of the rug. The world had gone somewhere else, leaving Cassandra and the Monsignor, who had fallen to the floor in horror. “Why don’t we make ourselves a little more comfortable as well?” said the deep voice from her mouth. Cassandra shuddered, crying out as she felt her spine twist and tremble. Tiny horns erupted sharply through her skin from each vertebra then her spine lengthened impossibly to become a lashing tail. She felt biting pains in her head as horns twisted from her temples and her ears reshaped themselves to points. Her jaw opened on lengthening serrated teeth. Smarting from her fingers and toes heralded their expansion of her nails into sharp claws. “That’s better,” said the voice. She rolled her shoulders and a pair of huge bat-wings unfolded and spread wide. “Now, what shall we do with you?” hissed from Cassandra’s mouth. Her hand tapped a clawed finger against one spiral horn in thought. “Let us see. There is always torture…” puzzled the power. Cassandra found herself pacing before the gibbering priest. “And then perhaps dismemberment?” No! Wait!! Cassandra thought in sudden terror. I don’t want to actually kill the guy! “What would you suggest then?” the presence suddenly asked her. Who, me? Cassandra jolted. “I should have known,” the priest was whimpering. “You’re a woman, an agent of Lucifer. 73

Morgan Hawke Females are the embodiment of evil…” he was sobbing. “All women are spawn of the devil… I should have guessed…” Cassandra was suddenly inspired. I have an idea… How much power do you really have? she asked the presence. Can you…? The presence listened to her thoughts, then laughed long and hard from her mouth, like something from one of the nastier horror movies. The sound echoed in the great emptiness all around. And then, on top of that, I have a plan, Cassandra added with a vicious grin. The demonic presence listened some more. “It shall be done,” growled the voice. Cassandra felt a huge gathering of power, as though the demon was taking a humongous deep breath. It swelled her body to practically bursting, then cannoned out of her mouth in a flaming thundering howl, directly at the cowering priest. The priest was enveloped in a cannonade torrent of flame. He shrieked in piercing agony. He screamed and screamed as fast as he could draw breath. The sound pitched higher and higher until the sound and register was too high for any man’s voice, raising the hair all over Cassandra’s body in reaction. Then the demon stopped. “Will this suffice?” asked the presence, rather smugly. Cassandra was astounded. The Holy Inquisitor, Monsignor Casca Renaldo Cervantes of the Holy Order of the Dominicans had been transformed by demonic power into a beautiful girl. 74

Demoness She lay naked and panting face up on the rug. Her skin was pale and luminescent; her face had been softened into a painter’s dream with full pink lips, bronze winged brows, a straight patrician nose and amber eyes framed in sooty lashes. Hair in long golden waves cascaded over her shoulders and pooled on the floor around her sweetly-figured slender body. “Wow, you do good work,” Cassandra complimented the demonic presence out loud in her own feminine voice. “Very, very pretty.” “Are you going to kill me?” whispered the girl. “Believe it or not, you are not going to die.” Cassandra grinned. “I have something else completely in mind for you. “What’s wrong with my voice?” she asked somewhat louder then she sat up. “Oh, my God!” she squeaked as she cupped her own full breasts in surprise. In a panic, she reached down between her legs and discovered the more fundamental changes. “What have you done to me?” she wailed. “I think it’s called poetic justice?” quipped the demonic voice from Cassandra’s mouth. “And this is only the beginning!” added Cassandra. “Andre, Balthazar and Nickos!” Cassandra called out in a voice laced with power. “Come before me!” In a burst of flame all three musicians appeared before her kneeling. “We have come,” they said in unison. “I have a gift for you,” Cassandra said softly and she gestured at the pretty blond huddled on the floor. 75

Morgan Hawke All three Gypsies turned and looked. They rose with feline grace and slowly approached the exquisite beauty. Like sharks, they circled her. “What are you looking at?” the golden maiden snapped, looking up in defiance. “Perfection,” breathed Balthazar. Andre’s hand reached out from behind her and caressed the silk of her hair. She turned to look, and Nickos finger ran down her satin shoulder. She turned again and Balthazar cupped her full breast and ran a thumb over a pouting nipple. “Go away,” she crossed her arms protectively over her breasts. Sudden primitive, feminine fear raced across her features. “Leave me alone.” She whimpered. “Gentlemen,” called Cassandra. “The idea is to make her like it; to make her want it. No real rough stuff. Be gentle, it’s her first time,” Cassandra smiled. “You have given us a virgin?” Andre asked in astonishment. “Yes, she is a virgin, and I expect you gentleman to introduce her to the arts of love so well that she parts those creamy thighs for anyone who asks. Make her cum and cum and cum some more…” she finished in a growl. “No!” screamed the frightened maiden, who suddenly understood exactly what Cassandra, had in mind. She rose up on delicate feet, trembling in terror. She looked about, but there was literally nowhere to run. The Gypsies began to disrobe, dropping their clothes where they stood. Cassandra got a good look 76

Demoness at them and winced. She consulted with her demonic presence and they came to an agreement. “All right, boys, come over here first,” Cassandra called. The demon gathered a deep breath of infernal power then blasted all three with a short burst of its fiery howl. The Gypsies were suddenly clean and well groomed, handsome even. “Very nice,” commented Cassandra. “Very nice indeed. Now one more thing before the party really begins…” The demon spat a short burst of power and large pillows in every shape, color and design plopped from the upper darkness to the floor. There was a flare of fire and torches burst into life at all four corners, casting a golden glow over the entire expanse of the rug. “That should make things comfy.” Cassandra nodded in contentment then walked over to the huge velvet throne and took a seat on the scarlet cushions. The tail and huge wings gave her a moment of trouble but she scooted just a bit forward and hooked one leg over the arm. Best seat in the house, she mused. “Let the festivities begin!” announced the infernal presence. The maiden bolted for the edge of the carpet with all three gypsies in hot pursuit. They caught her at the carpet’s edge when she hit the wall of nothing with a rubbery bong. Balthazar slung her squealing, over his shoulder. He completely ignored her tiny fists as they pummeled his heavily muscled back. He laughed and slapped her ass. He carried her kicking and squirming back to the pile of cushions right in front of the 77

Morgan Hawke throne. With a shrug, she was dropped onto the pillows. Andre grabbed her wrists; slender Nickos grabbed one ankle and Balthazar the other. They spread her wide and smiled down on the helpless girl. She screamed. As one, all three dove. Andre fastened his mouth on a full breast and slathered his tongue across the creamy white expanse. He captured a nipple and began suckling. Nickos took possession of her other breast and tender nipple. Balthazar dove between her satiny thighs, straight for her golden pussy. Warm brown fingers stroked and teased smooth creamy skin. Lips and tongues bathed sensitive flesh with strokes and tender nips. Balthazar used his broad shoulders to advantage, spreading her thighs wide. His mouth sucked and slurped, lapping at her pink pussy flesh. His tongue speared her tender clit, then flicked. Using the full length of his tongue, he slowly licked and tasted her from clit to bum-hole. Her screams of fear became moans of enjoyment as her female body responded to the inflaming caresses. She raised her hips against Balthazar’s mouth; her hips beginning to work as the climb to pleasure began to beckon toward ecstasy. Nickos suckled and lightly pinched her tender young breasts to rigid excitement. His hands cupped her fullness. His thumbs brushed the stiff peaks as he sucked first one pink nipple, then the other, using long tongue strokes to bathe her breasts in his saliva. Andre stroked his tongue up her sensitive throat and across her jaw as he ran his fingers through her 78

Demoness long golden tresses. Gently he captured her head, fisting his hands in her fair hair. He stroked the tender shell of her ear with the tip of his tongue, then breathed in her ear, creating erotic shivers. His tongue found and explored the warm fullness of her closed lips. Soothingly, lovingly he brushed and caressed her lips with his until she opened to him with a soft sigh. Lightly he stroked her tongue with his until she began to stroke back. Softly he deepened the kiss until she opened wide and he took possession of her mouth completely. Balthazar speared his tongue deep into her pussy and wiggled, sucking hard. Her eyes widened as she began to crest into an orgasm. Balthazar pushed his tongue in deeper, stroking and sucking. Pearly cream slicked his face and she shuddered as a wave of shrieking culmination slammed through her tiny frame. Her whimpering cries of bliss were captured in Andre’s mouth. Her convulsions of carnal joy were held fast by Balthazar and Nickos’s arms. “Yes,” Cassandra hissed in satisfaction. “That’s it, make her want it.” Nickos slid up her body and took her mouth as Balthazar took possession of her soft breasts. Andre moved between her quivering thighs and slid a finger into her tight wet depths, his thumb pressing against the tiny protruding clit. Still rolling in languorous bliss, she rolled her hips and Andre’s finger pressed against her maidenhead. “Mistress,” Andre asked very softly, barely audible above the maiden’s moans of pleasure. “Would you care to be the first?” His eyes gleamed pure yellow in 79

Morgan Hawke the flickering shadows. “Mmm, what a pleasant idea, Andre!” Cassandra leaned forward then rose from the scarlet throne. “I think I shall.” There was a pooling of heat in her pussy and a hard orgasmic shove. The demonic presence chuckled throughout her body. She suddenly possessed a working uncircumcised cock. Strangely enough, she still had her pussy fully intact. The demonic presence dwelling in her body had expanded her clit to epic proportions. Apparently a clitoris really was a tiny penis. Cassandra stepped away from the throne in a graceful move then reached down and caressed her own cock. She gently explored its weight and dimensions. She stroked it and shivered with pleasure as it filled and lengthened. With a thought, Cassandra conjured a pot of the thick scented oil that had been used on her earlier at the Magister’s palace. Gracefully she scooped up two fingers worth, and smoothed it down her heated shaft. She moaned as she rubbed the oil over the purpling cap, then back down and under. With a smile and a wink she leaned way over and handed the pot of oil to Andre, positioned between the maiden’s quivering, unsuspecting thighs. He took a generous dollop and slathered it all over his shaft and over his balls for good measure. Keeping it out of the maiden’s view, he passed the jar to Nickos, who used a generous helping himself. Nickos then passed it to Balthazar. As the golden maiden moaned and twisted, writhing under the pleasure from Nickos’s and 80

Demoness Balthazar’s combined tongues, Andre lifted her bottom and placed a firm pillow under her hips. He then spread her wide with his shoulders and tongued her, slurping noisily. Urgent whimpers marked her rise to passion. Nickos and Balthazar effectively blocked the maiden’s view of Cassandra as she knelt. Andre moved from between her knees and Cassandra took his place. Balthazar shifted, moving to the maiden’s head and taking her wrists. He pulled her taut, arching her back like a well-drawn bow. Nickos shifted, allowing the maiden to see Cassandra positioned between her thighs, poised above the damp entrance to her virginal pussy. Cassandra’s spined tail lashed and her massive batwings waved obscenely above them all. “And now, my sweet Monsignor, it is time to divest you of your virginity once again,” hissed Cassandra. She gave a serrated smile, her long tongue running over her fangs.

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Chapter Eight: Debauched

“O

h, God! What are you doing?” the delicate blonde who had once been the Monsignor whimpered as fright and pleasure convulsed through her. The maiden’s amber eyes opened wide as Cassandra leaned over her, then reached out to touch a tender breast. Clawed carmine fingertips lightly scored the nubile flesh then pulled delicately on the pink nipples. “It’s time to fuck you, my sweet,” murmured the demoness. Cassandra lifted the maiden’s knees spreading her wide to make room for herself. Cassandra’s demonic cock rose in a saber-curve to her belly button. The maiden cried out and twisted. Nickos grabbed one thrashing leg and Andre the other, holding her fast. Cassandra leaned over her and gripped the maiden’s shoulder in a clawed hand, breast to full breast, cunt to cunt, pinning her body beneath Cassandra’s, the pulsing cock a threatening, heated weight pressed between their bellies. 82

Demoness “This is probably going to hurt, my sweet.” Cassandra could feel a strange feral hunger boiling in her gut at the thought of causing pain. She squashed the thought, but the hunger remained. The maiden burst into violent gasping tears. “No, please don’t!” “I understand.” Cassandra smoothed the hair from the maiden’s sweating brow tenderly. “I know what you’re going through. I was once a virgin myself, where you are now,” she said soothingly to the frightened girl. “Trust me,” she felt herself smile with all her sharp teeth as the demonic manifestation made its presence known. “You’re going to love it when I’m through,” Cassandra’s voice growled with power. Cassandra took possession of the maid’s soft pink lips and kissed her, muffling the maiden’s protesting cries and her own troubled thoughts with her agile tongue. With one hand she firmly pressed the head of her new cock against the slippery entrance to the maiden’s body as the gypsies held her secure in their grasp. Resolutely she pushed against the tight opening, inserting the head between the tight muscles that guarded her entrance. Then she shoved with her hips. Cassandra’s slid her cock partway into the struggling maiden, stopping when she felt the maidenhead barrier against the tip of her cock. Damn! Now I know why all those guys were in such a hurry to get in my cunt! This feels too damn good! Cassandra was panting to thrust in and bury herself. It wouldn’t take much power to extend this cock, make it bigger, longer, sharper… to impale… to kill… The thought of fucking her to death swam in a tempting 83

Morgan Hawke red wave through her mind, like warm blood. Cassandra froze as she felt the subtle heat of the demonic presence moving seductively through her thoughts, and her body. Whoa! Hey, that is so not what I’m trying to do here! She jerked her mind back from the edge and clamped down mentally; getting a tighter grip on her thoughts and on the power. She could feel the heated chuckle of the presence as it slid back, allowing her to resist its dark temptations. Man, that was just a little too close, Cassandra gritted her teeth as she mentally shook herself. Holding herself very still, she deepened her kiss, concentrating, using her tongue to calm the terrified girl, and herself. She took a tender breast into her palm and pulled lightly on the nipple. The maiden shuddered under her and Cassandra felt her tender pussy dampen and contract then relax around Cassandra’s engorged cock. Cassandra gripped the maiden’s shoulder tighter as she continued to kiss her. Then she bucked, lunging in hard, breaking the resistance to the maiden’s womb and possessing her utterly. The maiden’s cries were lost in Cassandra’s mouth as Cassandra’s cock sundered her maidenhead. The heat and slippery tightness wrapped Cassandra’s man-flesh to the root. Gulping, Cassandra pulled back, breaking the kiss and lunged in again, wrapped in extreme pleasure. Nipples rubbed against nipples as she lunged in, muscular, demonic belly to soft rounded belly. Then she lunged again, then again and again. 84

Demoness The maiden’s cries of protest fell on deaf ears, as Cassandra got lost in the moist, gripping pleasure of fucking. She moved a hand to take hold of the maiden’s ass, angling just right until she could feel herself rubbing against something particularly delicious deep inside the maiden’s cunt. Cassandra’s pleasure invoked an answering heat from her demonic presence. Excitement and infernal power washed from Cassandra’s skin. Her wings began to beat as she strove to drive herself deeper and deeper into the maiden’s body. Her tail lashed about as pleasure began to peak. She barely noticed as the maiden’s cries turned to moans of brutal pleasure as the power began forcing her toward an echoing orgasm. The maiden’s hips rose against Cassandra’s. “You like being fucked, don’t you?” whispered Cassandra, panting as she pumped herself into the maiden’s body. “You want to be fucked, don’t you?” she pressed as she thrust herself in and in and in. “Don’t you?” she insisted. “Yes!” moaned the straining girl beneath her, “God, yes!” “Say it!” hissed Cassandra as she deliberately slowed her rhythm. “Say it!’ she growled. “I like being fucked,” whimpered the golden maiden. She raised her hips in a voluptuous roll, rising against Cassandra’s strokes. “Say it louder, my sweet, the men can’t hear you,” insisted Cassandra. “Tell me to fuck you and I’ll give you pleasure like none you have ever known.” “I like being fucked!” she wailed. “I want to be fucked. Fuck me!” she screamed. 85

Morgan Hawke Cassandra fell atop her, redoubling her strokes, rolling into them, breast-to-breast, her pubic bone grinding against the maiden’s tender clit. She could feel the walls of the maiden’s cunt grabbing and squeezing her cock, pulling, milking. The maiden’s hips lifted, hammering back against Cassandra’s powerful strokes. A blaze of shuddering heat washed over Cassandra. She buried herself as deep as she could go and she found herself rigid with brutal carnal rapture. As the roiling burn of her climax clawed through her, the volcanic pleasure of liquid sliding through her straining cock and exploding into the waiting shuddering body was rapturous. She pulled away, then slid back in to prolong the intense feelings. Then again... The maiden shrieked and shuddered hard as Cassandra’s demonic orgasm slammed into her and through her, forcing the maiden to crest and fall into a vicious ecstasy of her own. Rising to her knees, Cassandra looked up to see the three Gypsies gripping their own iron-hard erections in their fists, their eyes agleam with hunger. And nobody’s dead, or even really hurt. She wiped the sweat and tousled scarlet hair from her face and smiled. Using her wings for balance, she arose, nonetoo-steadily, and backed away. Her cock was still semi-hard, and baptized in the maiden’s virginal blood. Smears of blood decorated the maiden’s trembling thighs and the pillow beneath her. Her demonic presence shifted letting her feel its enjoyment, its pleasure at the sight of the scarlet 86

Demoness stains. Cassandra hoped it would be satisfied with that. That was all the blood she wanted to spill. Let’s just hope I can keep it that way.

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Chapter Nine: Finishing Touches

D

amn, what a rush! Cassandra fanned her gigantic wings to cool her fevered skin. “That was one hell of a fuck,” she panted breathlessly as she stumbled over to the throne to sit. The demonic presence moving under her skin agreed. It had enjoyed the ride immensely. Andre hurriedly took Cassandra’s place between the despoiled maiden’s thighs. “Wait, I have another idea,” Cassandra called out, as inspiration struck yet again. “Andre, turn over on your back and have her riding you.” Andre dropped onto the pillows then rolled over onto his back. Balthazar and Nickos lifted the exhausted, freshly fucked maiden. They lowered her face down onto Andre, who pulled her unresisting thighs over his. With a grip on her plump ass, he shoved into her cum-slick pussy in one stroke, moaning in gratification. “Yes, “ said Cassandra. “Now, Balthazar, don’t you think it’s time to show her how to suck a man’s 88

Demoness cock?” Balthazar grinned nastily behind his luxurious mustache and kneeling took up a position at her head. His cock was huge and very rigid. As Andre flexed his ass and thrust up into her body, Balthazar lifted her head by her damp golden hair then slid his cock into the maiden’s panting, moaning mouth. “Keep it gentle, boys,” she reminded them. Balthazar flashed her a look of resentment, then changed his hold on the maiden’s hair. Cassandra felt a dark shift in her mind. “Suck it, my precious,” growled the huge gypsy. “Suck it hard.” He got up on his knees and slid himself against her tongue. He stroked slowly, encouraging the maiden to take him as deeply as she could. Balthazar moaned long and hard as the maiden took him willingly if not eagerly. Her throat opened and his balls pressed against her drooling chin. “Nickos, I have something very special in mind for you.” Cassandra came out of the chair then guided the smallest gypsy between the straining thighs of Andre and the groaning maiden. With her own hand, Cassandra slathered the thick oil onto Nickos’s long, slender cock. “She has one more virgin hole left to exploit, my dear boy, and I want you to do it.” Nickos licked his lips, eyes agleam with ravenous expectancy. He bent over the straining couple then delicately parted the maiden’s plump ass-cheeks. He rubbed a greased finger against the small brown rose he found. “Gently,” reminded Cassandra. The maiden moaned around Balthazar’s saliva89

Morgan Hawke slicked shaft as Andre slammed his hard cock into her dripping pussy. Her brown bum-hole relaxed as the maiden surrendered to the multiple pleasures. Nickos’s finger slipped into the opening rose, and he greased inside her back passage, pumping progressively deeper into her virgin ass. He pulled his finger out, then gradually drove two greased fingers into her and pumped them in and out. The maiden began to shudder with urgency. “Quickly, Nickos,” Andre gasped. “We’re almost there.” Nickos repositioned, pulling his fingers from her tight ass. Gripping himself firmly, he pressed himself against the well-oiled tiny wrinkled rose. There was a moment of tension, then it opened. Nickos sank himself slowly, slowly in. The maiden shuddered from the invasion but was held immobile between Andre and Balthazar. Nickos sank to his balls, then slowly began to pump, gaining speed until he was fucking her ass in time with Andre’s slapping strokes in her dripping pussy and Balthazar’s thrusts down her throat. Together all three began fucking in rhythm with each other. Balthazar slid into her sucking throat, then Andre drove himself into her quivering wet pussy, then Nickos pushed into her tight bowels between her trembling, clenching ass cheeks. All three men began moaning as their crisis quickly became imminent. Beneath them all, the maiden shuddered from the combined pressures and pleasures of the three straining men. The maiden began to wail around Balthazar’s cock. 90

Demoness She worked herself against Andre and Nickos, fucking them back as their cocks rubbed against each other, separated by only a thin wall of her flesh. Andre shifted a hand and pulled on her hardened nipples. They fucked harder and harder, racing toward ecstasy. Sweat gleamed on all four bodies. Moans and grunts punctuated by wet slaps of flesh against wet flesh filled the echoing darkness. The maiden shuddered and rocked as brutal pleasure slammed her over the edge. Balthazar howled as his cum geysered out, pouring down her throat and dripped from her lips. Andre’s hoarse voice cried out as he went rigid from beneath. He grabbed the maiden’s hips and buried himself as far as he could go, rising up on his heels to pour his cum into the maiden’s all-too-willing flesh. Nickos panting shouts joined the chorus as he fell atop them, burying himself in the maiden’s straining ass to the balls and pumped his cum into her virginal bowels. All four fell apart amongst the pillows in sated bliss. “Now isn’t that a pretty picture?” Cassandra asked the demonic presence. “There is just one more little detail to wrap up…” “I must admit,” it responded after a moment of contemplation. “It was indeed entertaining, but don’t you want her to suffer just a little more? Have just a little more pain? See little more – blood?” Cassandra fought to keep a hold on herself as the power washed her mind in splashes of red, painting a 91

Morgan Hawke gruesome picture full of sated, unholy hungers. She gripped the arms of the chair, her claws digging deep furrows in the wood. She felt the power growing and stretching, preparing to take over and make the ravenous red dream a reality. “Look at it this way,” Cassandra offered as she panted under the deliciously tempting onslaught. “We can make her suffer, really suffer for a few hours or we can do it my way and make her suffering and humiliation go on for years.” She felt it hesitate and consider her plans. It receded back; its appetites unsatisfied but the idea of years of suffering mollifying it somewhat. Cassandra sighed in relief as she rose from the throne. Let’s get this over with quick – before it changes my mind for me! She closed in on the sleeping maiden with a languid and somehow terrified laugh. **** Cassandra materialized in a theatrical flash of flame and smoke by a massive fireplace in a dark enshrouded library. She stood in all her winged, tailed glory and sporting a fresh hard-on. In her arms, she held the unconscious, naked, cum-spattered body of the maidenly Monsignor. The startled Magister Chevalier le Duc was seated in a huge wooden throne of a chair. Carefully he put the black tome he had apparently been reading on a table by his side. “I have a gift for you,” Cassandra announced in her power-deepened voice. Gently she knelt, placing 92

Demoness the golden maid on the expensive rug at the Magister’s feet. The flames gleamed on the maiden’s cum-slicked creamy skin and golden hair. “She’s beautiful. Who is she?” The Magister asked in hushed, fearful tones. “Once upon a time, she was called: The Holy Inquisitor, Monsignor Casca Renaldo Cervantes of the Holy Order of the Dominicans.” The Magister’s breath hissed in. “My God, how…?” he dropped to his knees before the delicate sleeping girl. “My orders were to take the Monsignor’s virginity then deliver him to my Infernal Master. Her virginity I have taken, twice, actually, and you are my Infernal Master here in Paris, so…” The maiden awoke to see the Magister leaning over her. “You…” she whispered. “Now, she is merely a despoiled girl,” Cassandra continued, “with no family, no future and no name but what you give her. Will you take her?” Cassandra intoned. “I guess you could call this my way of wrapping up loose ends. A finishing touch.” “No!” the maiden cried out. She sat up and twisted around to look at demonic Cassandra, then back at the far more human Magister. “Consider her a present,” smiled a sweating Cassandra. Hurry, hurry, she mentally urged the Magister. She could feel a measure of impatience from her demonic roommate. She had to get out of here before the power did something she couldn’t stop. “Very well, I shall,” the Magister, answered. “I’ll 93

Morgan Hawke take her.” There was a calculating gleam in his black gaze as he stared into her frightened blue eyes. “No! You can’t leave me with him!” the maiden whimpered. “Good, but I should warn you, she has been thoroughly debauched and she loved every second of it. You’ll have to watch her or she’ll be fucking everything, including the dogs, next,” she finished with a flourish and a bow. The demonic presence liked that image. Calmly the Magister began to disrobe. Sniffing, Cassandra suddenly realized that she could smell burning matches. Sulfur? she thought curiously. The world decided to take that very moment to go away. There was a whoosh and she was falling. Everything suddenly went very weird.

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Epilogue Toronto, Canada in winter. Modern day…

“Y

ou transformed a Holy Spanish Inquisitor into a girl?” Marco asked dumbfounded as Cassandra soaked in the frothing Jacuzzi in his lap. His black curls hung over his naked shoulder as he sipped champagne, acting as her backrest in the marble tub while she bathed. “And then I conjured a cock and took her virginity again! After that I called on the three Gypsies…” Cassandra waxed enthusiastic as she went into glorious exquisite detail about the four-way gangbang. “Oh, and then I dropped her off with the Magister. He doesn’t have a decent pretty girl in his household. I figured that technically, he was my Infernal Master in Paris.” “Apparently, since you’re here, that fulfilled your contract good enough for our Master. Not bad,” Marco congratulated her. “ And nobody died or was even dismembered. Not bad at all!” He whistled in 95

Morgan Hawke appreciation. “Sounds like it was a close call with the demon, though.” “It was. Very, very close.” Cassandra reflected on the overwhelming power and its red hunger for carnage. “Thank the Infernal One, I’m back to my normal self. It was fun, but it was getting kinda hard to control my roommate towards the end.” “Got to watch those demons,” Marco smiled, then pressed a kiss on her damp temple. “They do that. They like taking advantage of people—especially their hosts.” “You wouldn’t believe what I had to do to trick that Inquisitor into fucking me— “ “Speaking of taking advantage and fucking—” He shifted under her haunches. She felt the unmistakable hardness of his erection. Without asking, he lifted her in his lap, centered her and pulled her down, spearing her with one thrust. She gasped as he filled her. Marco’s arms closed around her and lifted her enough to thrust upwards into her moist channel. “Satan’s ass, I missed your dick...” she gasped out as his thrusts pounded up into her. “I should hope so,” he growled and thrust harder. Water rushed over the sides of the hot tub and spilled onto the floor as they continued, growing more frantic in their motions and louder in their gasps and moans until at last, both were satisfied. Marco rose from the tub then turned and handed Cassandra a black towel He smiled appreciatively as he helped her out of the deep tub. “Well that should tide me over at least for a bit.” 96

Demoness “It wasn’t as if I was gone all that long—” Cassandra tilted her head to one side. “It’s still the same day I left... Isn’t it?” Marco pursed his lips as he handed her a red silk robe. “You were gone maybe an hour?” Cassandra’s brow furrowed as she shrugged into the silk robe. “Is that the way it’s supposed to be?” “According to my experience, yes.” He nodded. “Unless of course you failed in your mission...” Cassandra turned to look at him. “What would have happened if I hadn’t succeeded?’ Marco shrugged then pulled on a long black robe. “You’d still be there until you completed the Magister’s command to take the Monsignor’s virginity, no matter how long it took.” He tied the belt at his waist then offered her his hand. Cassandra took his hand and let him lead her from the luxurious bathroom. “So, I would have been stuck in another place and time with a pushy, demonic roommate?” Cassandra’s eyes glittered with the possibilities, then she thought again. Her demonic roommate would grow more demanding, controlling and bloodthirsty the longer she carried it. She shuddered broodingly as she followed him to the sunny breakfast nook by the kitchen, where brunch had been set out. Her mouth watered at the sight of the food set out on the table. Weird. I didn’t want to eat a bite there the entire time. Now, I’m starving, she thought. Briefly, she mused on the fact that she’d never been hungry her entire visit to medieval Paris. “The Unholy One has been known to accept a 97

Morgan Hawke blood relative, like a son or daughter as a substitute for the original target, but that means waiting until a blood relative appears...” Cassandra grimaced. “That could take a while.” Marco nodded. “That’s putting it mildly.” He rolled his eyes. “Also keep in mind that He prefers them mature and preferably corrupt. So, once they’re born, you’d have to wait for the relative to grow up, then you would probably have to do the corrupting yourself too, before they were ready for a proper sacrifice.” “That could take a really long time. I won’t play with anyone under eighteen.” “If you had stayed, you wouldn’t have aged, and you’d still be a full demon, but trust me, it wouldn’t have been fun.” Marco assisted her into a chair at the heavily-laden breakfast table. “The biggest problem is that when you take too long to accomplish a mission, you get assigned a Keeper.” He gently kissed her neck then seated himself in the chair next to hers. “A Keeper? What’s that?” Cassandra asked as he piled food onto the gold-embossed plate. “It’s a demon twice as powerful as you and very nasty. They’re sent to ‘help you’ finish your obligation.” Marco shuddered delicately. “Even if it takes a century or two.” “Not a friendly bunch, huh?” Cassandra asked as she scooped food onto her fork. “Something worse than my roommate? Oh, boy, that sounds like fun,” she said sarcastically. “Trust me on this one. Keepers are ugly, spiteful, malicious sons o’ bitches,” he said shaking his head 98

Demoness vigorously. “Been there, done that. You don’t want to go there,” he added with a wave of his fork. “Keepers tend to leave messes. Big, sloppy and gruesome messes...One day I’ll tell you what happened to me— but not today.” “So, basically, what you’re saying, is that since I worship Satan, I’m going to get summoned to play demon every now and again?” “That’s about it, in a nutshell. Once you’ve dedicated yourself to Satan, it seems that He gets to call on you for assignments,” Marco agreed. “So, without any warning, I go on a little vacation, play demon and then I’m back the same day I left.” She trembled as she sipped her coffee. “And, you knew about this all along?” “Done it myself a few times,” he shuddered visibly and looked away. “I figured your turn was coming up, but I had no idea when.” She frowned at him. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” He raised a brow. “Would you have believed me?” She shrugged. “I guess not. If I hadn’t just spent the last few days in medieval Paris myself, I would have thought you were smokin’ crack,” she smiled while cringing inwardly. “And this was only the first assignment,” Marco said as he sipped his coffee. He regarded her from over the rim of his mug. Marco’s golden eyes gleamed with a sudden, but brief, spark of infernal flame. In shock, Cassandra recognized the glint from its reflection within her own haunted gaze. She had never really noticed it in Marco’s eyes before. 99

Morgan Hawke “Just remember, my dear Cassandra,” Marco said softly, “with demons, there’s always more.”

Fini.

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About the Author For me, writing is more than a passion; it's an obsession. I am a voracious reader of Romance, Science-Fiction, Fantasy, Horror and Erotica, so naturally my stories follow along the lines of what I want to read. Where do I get my ideas from? Rampant curiosity. I play the game of 'What If?' with everything I encounter. Everything I do and everything I see, triggers a story to be told. Why do I write? I write to keep my sanity. The stories crowd into my head. I write them down so I can get some peace.

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