“A Contract Until Dawn”
by Sita Bethel
“What’s your name, daemon?”
The demon ignored his summoner, staring at the sigils on the floor, scanning the rust colored markings for errors or weak points. The room looked unremarkable, barrels of apples and squash stashed in the corners, round, fat pumpkins beside them, the typical fall harvest. So many would-be necromancers and wizards tried to summon a demon during the last night of October.
A soft chuckle brought his gold eyes back up to face the wizard who’d pulled him into the physical world. He looked delicate, fresh glass still cooling from a blower’s wand. His long, black ponytail slung over his right shoulder and the gray eyes flashed in dim, wavering light of a dozen tallow candles.
“You won’t find flaws. My name is Atramentous.”
The demon sighed. Atramentous had a reputation in the underworld for having an appetite for demonic lovers, and often sent even the highest ranking demons back to the lower realms blushing like unmarried girls.
“Grigori.” He was curious what a night with the legendary Atramentous would be like.
Grigori smirked. “It will be. I know what you want.”
“Oh? Do you know what I want? Am I so translucent?”
“More like infamous.”
“Perhaps I want you to kill someone, business not pleasure.”
“Then write two contracts.”
Grigori transformed to his human shape, keeping his black, dual horns. His human shape was dark, dark like the first men of the earth, skin gleaming sleek and near-blue in its blackness. He didn’t bother with clothing, choosing to let his already eager and swelling cock make his argument for him. A shiver ran through his body as a draft caressed his skin. His muscles rippled at the sensation. It’d been a long time since he’d been in the physical world, and he’d forgotten how it sharpened everything. The slightest brush of skin in this plane was more than a knife wound in the underworld.
Atramentous’ eyes scanned up and down. “May I touch your hair?”
“Where’s the contract?” Grigori asked. He couldn’t step outside of the summoning circled until he signed an agreement.
Atramentous stepped inside the circle instead, bringing their faces a breath apart. Grigori started, stepping back. It was unheard of, a wizard stepping inside the circle. Grigori could do anything to him in that moment, tear out his kidneys, skin him alive, drag him to hell and keep him as a slave for eternity. The demon clutched at the wizard’s throat, grinning.
“Wouldn’t if I were you,” Atramentous said.
The wizard dropped his robe to the floor, revealing limbs marred with tattoos- protection sigils. Atramentous brushed a hand down his own abdomen.
“It’s Samhain. You know that means the veil is thin and my spells are stronger.”
Grigori stared in fascination at both the complexity of the magic engraved into the wizard’s body, and the aesthetic appeal of it. The demon teased the head of the wizard’s cock, noticing that it was greased with a thick, slick gel. Grigori also noticed metal studs protruding from the skin.
“Yes, three times. A shaman did it during a ceremony.”
“Of course. May I touch your hair?”
His grip on Atramentous’ throat was light; he didn’t dare test the power of the markings inked into the human’s flesh. He nodded, consenting.
Atramentous grabbed a lank, toying with it. “The shamans wore their hair the same, tangled like rope.”
“It’s the old way.”
“I find it attractive.” He looked up at Grigori. “Verbal contract. You stay until dawn.”
“Verbal? It’s not specific enough.”
“I don’t care for specifics. I prefer these nights to be spontaneous.”
“How are you not dead?”
“Maybe it’s luck,” Atramentous said, voice thick with irony and narcissism.
Grigori kissed him, nipping at his bottom lip as he pulled away. He wasn’t in the mood to negotiate. The physical world was a treat, a place of heightened sensation and indulgence. Demons coveted the sensory delight that humans took for granted. They tricked summoners into extra time, or freedom into the realm altogether, even if it meant possession, anything to feel a little longer, but when the mage was clever, and there was no other way, the demons submitted and played by the rules in order to enjoy what they could. A night was not enough time, but Grigori knew it was all he was getting so he seized it with a kiss.
Atramentous grabbed Grigori by the horns and wrestled him to the ground. He struggled, trying to dominate the human instead. He always topped humans. It was expected of a demon, and it should have been easy, but no matter how much he bucked or kicked, he couldn’t flip them. Grigori found himself belly first on the ground, legs being spread apart by Atramentous’ knee as he kept a hand on Grigori’s left horn.
“Is it the piercings?” Grigori asked, impressed at how easily the human had subjugated him.
Without further prelude, Grigori felt the head of Atramentous’ cock line up with his entrance. The thought of being fucked by a human was absurd, but the taboo nature of it made Grigori’s cock twitch, and he realized that he wanted it. He understood the blushes and mutters of the other demons now.
With a jolt of his hips, Atramentous pushed in. For the first time in thousands of years, Grigori called out as Atramentous’ cock slid in quick and easy because of the gel coating it. It felt like fire plunging straight into his gut and Grigori clawed at the stone floor. Atramentous slammed forward again, and Grigori threw back his head, calling out a second time. Each exhale became a cry of pleasure. Atramentous made little grunts as he shoved in over and over, using Grigori’s horns like reins.
“Touch me,” Grigori begged, shameless and urgent.
“What?” Atramentous asked with a quick exhale of breath as he continued to plow into Grigori’s ass.
“Touch me, please, stroke me. I want to come with you inside me. Please!” he continued to beg, nails finding purchase into the cracks of the stone floor. His limbs quivered, he was on the verge of ecstasy and needed, needed, needed that final burst of sensation that would sap all the will and strength from his body and leave him sprawled out on the floor in a heap next to apple barrels and pumpkins.
“You’re not going to resist? No one’s ever asked to come before. I have to coax them into it.”
“It’s too good,” Grigori whimpered, realizing he was a disgrace to his kind, but too lost to Atramentous’ every thrust to hold himself back. “Please!”
Atramentous pulled out and flipped Grigori onto his back before shoving back in. He grabbed Grigori’s pulsing cock and pumped with quick flourishes of his wrist.
“Yes!” Grigori called out.
He grabbed Atramentous’ shoulders, thumb claw brushing up and down the wizard’s taut bicep. The pleasure grew dense and heavy in Grigori’s gut. His cock ached with unresolved need, and Grigori bucked in time to Atramentous’ thrusts.
“Yes … yes … Oh God!” The last word burned his mouth even as he came all over his own stomach. Grigori turned away, furious with himself. “Ah fuck.”
Atramentous laughed, musical and bell-like. The smugness in his posture and tone sweated out of his body as he rutted like a wild boar.
“Cute,” he said as he sped up his thrusts.
“I’ll be flayed for it.”
“How about I keep you for a whole week first?” Atramentous asked.
“We had a contract until dawn.”
“I didn’t say which dawn.”
Grigori laughed, but only a moment, he was gasping too hard from the wizard’s thrusts. “I’m yours until the dawn of your choosing.”
Atramentous grunted, his eyes screwing shut as his face twisted in orgasm even as the first rays of dawn struck the shutters of the east-facing windows.
Sita Bethel obtained a B.A. in Creative Writing at Arkansas Tech University; however, she learned how to write fiction on sites such as Archive Of Our Own. She currently lives in Arkansas, teaches Zumba Fitness and Salsaton classes at a local gym, and hopes to one day own a fortress of solitude staffed with incompetent henchmen.
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