Accidental Summoning Ch. 02

"It's all right," replied Paul. "You couldn't plan for something so random. I guess I'm a wild card." He chuckled, then laughed. Desdemona joined in his laugh, and he felt a little of his internal knot release. If he was stuck here, at least he wasn't going to be chained up in the proverbial backyard like a forgotten pet.

She smiled and used her talons to pry off a little morsel of meat from the leg she was holding. Then she held it out to him, and he took his cue and used his mouth to suck it off of her fingers. Desdemona laughed again, and there was a long pleasant period of her biting off chunks of meat and then feeding him smaller pieces. Finally, he had to sit back and declare himself full.

"Have a turapi, at least," she said, and held out one of the green fruits to him. He took it and regarded it curiously. It looked like an orange in texture, but its color was more like a lime. He saw Desdemona pick up one herself and peel the rind off with practiced fingers. He used his teeth to start peeling off the rind, then his fingers to get the rest. The fruit's flesh was structured in wedges like an orange, but it had the same deep green color as the rind. He pulled off a wedge and bit into it.

It was amazing. The taste was sort of like a lime, but much less sour. It had a milky note to the flavor that reminded him of a key lime milkshake. He finished the rest of the fruit hungrily. Desdemona, of course, had simply popped her whole fruit in her mouth after peeling it and then swallowed it whole.

He regarded her curiously. "So, I have to ask...can you taste things?"

"Of course. I like tasty things. I like you." She waggled her eyebrows at him. "Anything else you want to ask?"

Paul took a deep breath. He had to ask, even though he might regret the answer. "You know that I was a student. But what do you do for a living? I guess you work for your dad, but-"

"He's not my dad," said Desdemona. "Not in the way that you mean. But he is my Father." He could hear the capital letter as she said the last word. Desdemona picked up the mug next to her and held it out. "Cheers."

"Cheers," replied Paul automatically as he picked up his own mug and clinked it against hers. He thought it was filled with water at first, but the smell warned him as he brought it close to his mouth for a drink. It wasn't water; the vapor coming off of it seemed to burn right up his nose and into his brain. He took a tentative sip, and coughed.

"Yeah, it's kind of strong," said Desdemona with a grin. "Drink up, and then I can take advantage of you." She gave him another waggle of her eyebrows.

"Damn, lady. You've already had me in just about every way possible already. But I'll do as you say." He took a larger sip. It tasted like very strong rum, and it made his head swim. "You distracted me nicely, by the way. You still didn't answer my question."

She chuckled. "You are a smart and cheeky little thing. I guess that's why I like you." Desdemona stood and walked forward into the 'bubble' window that hung out over the sea of flame. "You are a student of Earth history, so you know about the Pax Romana."

"Of course."

Desdemona took a deep breath and spread her muscled arms. She stood with legs akimbo as she looked out over the endless yellow expanse of fire. Her silhouette was an Amazonian ideal made flesh. Her voice boomed as if from a loudspeaker.

"I am the senior enforcer of the Pax Demona. I am the right hand of Father. Armies tremble and flee when my true name is spoken." The room seemed to grow a little smaller as she spoke, as though she was swelling in size.

Paul took a large and shaking gulp of his drink and then set the mug down carefully so that he wouldn't spill it. "Okay, good. Got it, thanks. I don't wanna know more." Had he really called this entity a 'fucking bitch' earlier? Was he insane?

She turned back to face him, and now she seemed normal size again. Her eyes glowed brightly as if the interior of her head was on fire. The bright fire in her gaze died gradually to her normal soft glow as she walked towards him. Her lips were pulled back in a rictus that was definitely not a smile.

"Desdemona? If it was rude of me to ask, I'm sorry."

The demon slowly walked closer.

Paul stood, figuring there was nowhere to run to if this was indeed the end of him. Desdemona stopped in front of him and laid her hand on his chest, right over his heart. She gave a little 'hmm' as she felt his rapid heartbeat, then looked up into his eyes. Her face lost its snarl and became set and expressionless.

"Hear me now," she said, formally but gently. "You are mine. I do not harm that which is mine. You shall never see that side of me turned upon you." Desdemona then stared deeper into him. "Because you are utterly mine," she continued, and Paul felt his mind gripped by hers. This was a strong domination, much stronger than the first time that they had fucked. He couldn't move, he could barely breathe. It felt as if he was wrapped in iron bands.

He braced himself, waiting for her to pounce and have her way with him. Instead she traced one sharp nail down his cheek. "What is wrong, Paul?" she asked in a less formal tone. "Something has been distracting you. You are worried. And not about yourself being here. You are worried for somebody else in particular. A female somebody, I sense. A girlfriend, perhaps?"

Paul shook his head, but he couldn't break eye contact with her. Damn it, she might possess his body but he was keeping Liselle's name out of this insanity. It was an effort to speak, as if the air was now suddenly thick and liquid. "I...told you...I was single."

"Mmmm, yes you did. And I sense that is the truth. A family member, perhaps. Who is it?"

Paul glared at her and didn't speak. He knew he couldn't speak, the moment he opened his mouth Liselle's name would go leaping from his lips.

Her impassive face broke into a smile. "That's why I like you. You have a defiant fire inside that the domesticated humans don't have. They would roll over at the slightest cough from me." The nail stroked under his chin and then back up his other cheek. "But why not tell me?"

He still didn't speak, but it hurt with the effort. It was as if he had to vomit, but instead of half-digested food what he had to vomit was a name. Paul's breath rasped through his nose as he clamped his lips together.

Desdemona's tone changed to loving exasperation, as if she was dealing with a recalcitrant dog. "Paul, you're going to hurt yourself if you keep this up. I just want to know, honestly. Perhaps I can help."

He didn't relent. This entity didn't think like a human, not really. If he said he was worried about his sister, Desdemona's solution might just be to go kidnap her as well.

She rolled her eyes and then pinched his nose shut. In reflex he opened his mouth to breathe. "Liselle!" he gasped, and then gave a little sob.

"There. That's better. Who is she?"

Paul felt tears well in his eyes, and he hated himself for showing weakness before his captor. "My kid sister," he said with a cracking voice. Then it all came out in a rush. "Our parents died when we were young, I raised her. Well, we raised each other I guess. She's my closest family member, and she's going to be worried sick about me. I know you don't understand or care, you're a demon and all, but she's important to me. She's all I have. I just can't bear the thought of her in pain and not knowing what happened to me." His voice wound down and he blinked to get the tears out of his vision.

Desdemona's face was back to impassive. "I might understand better than you think," she said. "I will grant you a boon. You may write one letter to her and I will see that it is delivered."

Even under the blanket of domination, Paul's heart leaped. Was that possible?

She gripped the back of his neck. "Do you accept my boon?"

He couldn't nod, his muscles were held too tightly. "Yes, yes I do."

Her voice became louder. "Do you agree that it is a generous and merciful offer on my part? I could simply ignore your worry. I do not know this Liselle of yours."

He knew he had to say something positive. "You are merciful, and I thank you."

She nodded, once. "So be it. And now I will have my payment for such generosity." Desdemona waved her arm at the table, and it was suddenly bare. She gripped harder on the back of his neck and turned him towards the table, then pushed him down so that his cheek was pressed against the hard obsidian surface. All Paul could see was the flaming yellow sea out of the window. His ass stuck up in front of his kidnapper, and he was pretty sure what was coming next.

"You don't move," she said. Her breathing was getting faster with her arousal. She grabbed his ass cheeks and spread them apart. His gluteus muscles were kneaded between her eager fingers as her ardor increased. "This is for me," she growled. "Not for you." There was a pause and some rustling, and then he felt her finger spread something wet onto his pucker. It was lubrication from her vagina, he realized. He would have flinched, but his body was definitely not under his control right now. There was another pause, and another dab of her juices onto him. The touch should have given him at least a little thrill. But he felt no erotic tingle. His pecker hung limp along with his dangling balls.

He heard a slurping sound. She was sucking on her own tail-cock, and again the thought should have given him another sexual charge. But it was as if he was listening to crop yield reports for all the enthusiasm his dick showed.

Her grip on his buttocks tightened and spread him further apart. This time there was no warning nudge. Her cock pressed in, split him open, and kept going with one single thrust. He wasn't really lubricated enough. Paul grunted in pain as Desdemona moaned with lust. He felt his ass burning as she slithered up into him but still he felt no arousal. He remained completely flaccid. The pain worried him. She hadn't hurt him up until now. What had changed?

She pulled back out until her cock-head was just holding open the ring of his anus, then pressed in again. One of her hands rested on the small of his back. The other gripped the back of his neck and pressed the side of his face firmly against the warm stone. Desdemona began to hammer into his ass, grunting in time with the thrusting of her tail. Paul's dick flopped back and forth as the pace of her thrusting increased. The burning sensation eased a bit but didn't go away entirely. Apart from the pain all he felt was the physical sensation of something moving in and out of his ass.

It was odd how long it seemed to take, now that he wasn't really involved in it at all. There was no real shame involved; this entity could tear him apart like fresh bread even if his mind and body wasn't under her control. He resolved to endure the pain and take whatever punishment she inflicted on him if it meant that he could get some word to Liselle. And again he wondered what had happened. This was the first time she had ever shown cruelty towards him.

Desdemona's cock throbbed and she snarled through gritted teeth. He felt a hot drenching inside of him as her seed filled his bowels. She panted for a bit, then released her hold on his neck. "Hold yourself closed after I withdraw," she said. "I'm not having you dripping on my floor." Her tail-cock pulled slowly out of him and he felt his asshole clench shut with almost painful force to keep her emission inside. The domination of his muscles eased back but did not vanish. He stood up and turned to face her, and saw that the demon's face was still impassive. "Good. Now wash me." She stalked off to the bath and Paul followed.

­__________________________________________________________

The tub was filled with water by the time they got there, of course. It was lukewarm, which made sense. A hot bath in this place would be kind of silly. There was also something added to the water that gave it a pleasant floral scent. Desdemona stretched herself out in the water and lay on her stomach with her arms folded over the edge. She rested her chin on her hands and swished her tail lazily through the water.

"You may enter the bath and release my gift," she said, "Then you will attend to my back."

He stepped up and over the lip of the tub. The moment his ass hit the water, he felt himself open up and gush out her ejaculate. Her sperm didn't drift through the bathwater, it just seemed to disappear. 'Demon-magic,' he muttered, and looked for something to clean her back. There were several sponges as well as other cleaning implements lined up along one lip of the bath, and he grabbed a sponge. It foamed with suds as soon as it contacted the water.

Paul sat cross-legged in the bath and began washing those odd, three-toed feet of hers. He worked around every long toe, then over both soles and then up her legs. Her calves were hard and defined, their curves leading up into the larger muscles of her thighs. He worked his way up to her proud gluteals and felt them shift and flex as he pressed the sponge over them.

"Do you want me to wash the tail as well?" he asked, and she nodded. Paul carefully worked the sponge down her tail towards its cock-tip. He made sure to use minimal pressure, as he wasn't sure how sensitive it was. He really didn't want her attitude to get any worse. Was her change in behavior just what passed for a mood swing in a demon? Was there a reason for it? Maybe it was because he had resisted her questioning. But no, she had actually seemed pleased with his defiance.

There was a little scorch mark on the small of her back, near one of her hips. The sponge didn't seem to be doing much. "Um, there's a mark here. I can't get it to come off."

She seemed to be half asleep. "Hmm? Oh, that. Some silly Alkenor twit fired an RPG at me. Try the pumice stone, that should get it off."

He set the sponge aside and took up a small square of rough volcanic rock. His fingers shook slightly, and he took a breath to calm himself before attacking the mark. Paul didn't try to be gentle for once; he figured that if she could shrug off a rocket attack then she could damn well put up with a little scrubbing. The soot-mark rapidly dispersed as he worked the stone over her skin. He grabbed the sponge again and kept working upwards.

Pau kept thinking through possible reasons for her behavior. Was it just her showing him his place in the pecking order? If he was a pet, her taking of his ass so roughly might have been her version of yanking his leash to get him to heel. Or maybe she couldn't appear to be too generous, so if she gave with one hand she had to take with the other. But when he was resisting her questioning she had actually offered her help, and she had volunteered to get a letter to Liselle.

He finished washing the back of her neck and she silently turned over, presenting her front. She stared up through the skylight and didn't say a word. Paul began again at the feet and washed upwards.

She had seemed loose and happy with him during the meal. Maybe it was just a residual attitude from when she had taken on her aspect as the 'right hand of Father'. No, that didn't feel right either. Something else was going on. She had really gotten formal and nasty after he'd confessed about Liselle. And her...shit, call it what it was...her rape of him was odd. Especially because she hadn't let him have the slightest bit of pleasure from it. Every time before, she seemed almost determined to make him climax as often as possible.

He ran the sponge over her collar bones and shoulders. It was something around him telling her about Liselle. Would the fact that he had a sister make her mad? No, that made no sense. Suddenly he remembered what she had said right before offering her boon.

I might understand better than you think.

Oh shit-burgers. He gathered up the nerve to speak. "Desdemona, I screwed up, didn't I? When I told you about Liselle. I said that you wouldn't care. That's what pissed you off."

Her eyes moved to meet his.

"I'm sorry," he said simply.

She nodded once. "I guess I shouldn't be angry with you. You don't know better, since in your time-lines all you've heard were myths and legends about our cruelty." To his utter surprise, her eyes bacame suddenly wet. "And we can be cruel..." She looked away. "Shit. It's been so long, but it feels like just yesterday that..."

Paul wanted her to finish that sentence, to tell him what had happened. He had a nasty suspicion that it involved another human 'fuck-toy' of hers. But the last thing he wanted was to anger her anew, and so he kept his mouth shut.

Desdemona looked back at him, her eyes now clear of tears. "I accept your apology. I would ask you to remember that we demons can be capricious. As I will now show you."

He felt his muscles tighten, and knew that her domination of him was being strengthened. She sat up and took the sponge from his hand and set it aside. Then she gathered him up into her lap and held his gaze as she took his limp member in her hand. Her other arm went around his shoulders. Paul felt a distant panic through the haze of her domination. Was she simply going to rip his manhood right off? She had said that she wouldn't harm him, but what would a being that could ignore a grenade consider real harm?

She leaned forward, her lips almost touching the tip of his nose. He tried to speak, and could only get out a strangled "Desdemona...please, what..."

"Now," she whispered.

Her domination released him completely, and Paul jerked like he'd touched a live electrical circuit. The entire sexual experience that he had just been denied was replayed through his nervous system in full force, only compressed into a matter of seconds. In that brief time he went from completely limp to fully erect to feeling his prostate being massaged by her tail-cock to now ejaculating into Desdemona's caressing hand. He would have fallen back and hit his head on the edge of the tub, but her arm supported him. He couldn't even speak, he just managed a groan through clenched teeth as his orgasm subsided.

He felt her kiss his cheek as he shook in her arms. "Just remember this," she murmured. "Out there on the table, that was just me being uncaring about you. If I wanted to be actively cruel, well...you would not like it." She gave him another kiss on his neck. "I will never be cruel to you. Or indifferent. I will try to keep my capricious nature in check, but even if I get a little bitchy don't ever doubt that I care for you."

Paul was boneless in her embrace. He wanted to yell 'If you care, then take me home!' but he knew that was a non-starter. There was something he figured he could ask, however. "I won't doubt it again. And I really am sorry. But, um, could I just make a request?"

"What's that, Paul?" The teasing sparkle was back in her eyes.

"This is not me giving you sass or anything, it's an honest plea. In the future just assume that I'm a barbarian from uncivilized lands. If I do or say something stupid please tell me before resorting to any, ah, physical demonstration."

"It's a deal," she said with a smile. She lifted him bodily out of the tub and set him on his feet. Paul was amazed that his legs could actually support him. She then got out herself. There were no towels; the constant dry heat made it so that they were both dried off in a matter of minutes. Paul actually felt cool for the first time in a while as the water evaporated off of him.

Desdemona gave him a hug, and he managed to return it. "We should sleep," she said. "And I really do mean sleep. I've had a long day, and we've got more to do tomorrow."

Paul nodded. He was just fine with the idea of sleep, in spite of his earlier nap. It seemed like getting dominated really took it out of you.