arm and the screen blinked off.
“I have come to see how you are.”
If he had said he had come to tie her up and eat her soul he could not have shocked her more. She stood then sat down again as her knees were too weak to support her. Never had he suggested that he cared even one whit about her. Sometimes he had come in the night, opened her legs, thrust himself inside for several strokes then disappeared. Other times he might flip her over and pound inside her like a stallion does a mare and disappear, leaving her face pressed into her pillow, too surprised to be sorry it had been over so quick.
She tilted her head at him and blinked. “How I am?” she whispered.
His human face melted itself into an expression of discomfort for one second before he disintegrated. The wall behind him glowed with the afterimage outline of his body. She got up and walked to the wall and touched it with the fingers of one hand.
“I’m okay. I guess.” She said to the wall. “I am very sorry for Michael Brand’s family. I feel terrible that I have caused them so much pain, and angry that you did this and forced me to take the appearance of a victim of your crime. The money feels tainted and I can’t look at my bank statement without nausea.” She took her hand from the wall and watched as the silhouette of his presence faded back to the Crème Fraiche color she had painted on it last fall. “That is how I feel.”
Victoria continued, “I’m blacklisted, you know.” She put her hands on her hips, warmed up by this opportunity to unburden herself for the first time. “No one will hire me. Everyone in town either despises me or pities me. No one calls.” Her voice changed and became sad, “Well, my cousin Bob from Cincinnati called. He asked for a loan to buy a car. And my cousin Ed from Jersey called. He wants a loan for first and last month’s rent so he can leave his wife. My sister called and told me she wishes she had been raped at work in an elevator so she wouldn’t have to work two jobs to support her and her kids.”
Victoria sat in the wingback chair by the cold fireplace. She looked at her hands. “You must have done this for a reason, demon.”
There was a flash in the room and she sat back in the soft cushions of the upholstery. He appeared again, this time as the red demon with horns and a pointed tail. It waved behind him back and forth like an angry cat. The yellow eyes blinked over and over and her and when he spoke her revealed a row of pointed teeth behind the shining red lips.
“I have.” He reached for her with a huge hand tipped with sharp black nails and pulled her from the chair. He pushed her down to her knees and moved his hips toward her face. His engorged cock glistened red and shiny before her face. She sighed, not at all in the mood for sex. She was still thinking about her sister’s request for a loan and her cousin’s failed marriage.
The demon insisted. The cock swelled. At this distance she could see the ripples along the shaft and the split engorged tip with its small slit like a closed mouth at the end. The demon pushed it closer to her, but she waited for instructions. Hand job? Blow job? Or did he just want her to watch as he masturbated? He did that sometimes, aiming his cum to spurt over her breasts and nipples, then the hollows of her neck and into her hair. He had plenty of cum. More than a real man. It was thick and sometimes creamy white, sometimes clear and shining, sometimes red as blood. Always hot. It always burned. Sometimes it left marks on her. Sometimes it blistered. She touched her throat. She did not like sucking it until it came inside her mouth because it burned her and choked her and made her speak in a sexy throaty voice for days afterward. She hoped that was not was he wanted tonight.
“No. Watch.” He pushed her down. She lay on her back and he straddled her, standing over her with one monstrous foot on either side of her hips. She looked up at the huge demon-body that towered almost to her ceiling.