Goetic Justice

She was clearer and more manifest than Orobas had been, at least. As much as she projected her form into his mind like an intrusive thought, he saw her with his physical eyes, and he could reach out and touch her with his hands. It was as if the longer she remained here, the more solid she became.

"Your heart is filled with turmoil," she said, her musical voice softer now. "At night, your thoughts keep you awake, disturbing your sleep. You must rest if you are to perform the tasks that will be given to you optimally. My master has foreseen it becoming a problem. I can help, if you wish it."

"Help?" he asked, keeping his eyes fixed on the wall as she leaned closer to him. "How?"

This line of conversation was making him uncomfortable. He didn't like the idea of her seeing into his heart, or whatever it was that she did. His emotions were his own private business, and he hadn't asked for this in the contract. At least, he didn't think that he had. To be honest, he didn't know what he was feeling. His fucked up emotional state was what had cost him his job in the first place.

"I can soothe your mind, send you into a deep and untroubled sleep," Nahash whispered.

"How?" Ryan asked, his interest admittedly piqued by the idea. He hadn't slept properly since the day that Becky had left. "Speak plainly."

"Perhaps it is better if I show you."

"Show me? How are you-"

Before he could voice a complaint, her hold on him tightened, and she pulled him into a one-armed hug. He struggled for a moment -- damn, she was strong -- but his alarm quickly faded. His face was pressed into the feathery wool that started between her weighty breasts and formed a kind of ruff around her neck and shoulders. It was the softest thing that he had ever felt in his life, like the fur of some luxury mink coat. It was puffy and downy, not quite wool and not quite hair, Nahash sinking him deeper as she placed a gentle hand on the back of his head.

Ryan couldn't help but let his eyes wander down to her breasts, her porcelain flesh forming a shelf an inch below his chin, shifting softly with the rise and fall of her chest. His gaze magnetized to the shadow of her cleavage, the way that those supple globes pressed together making it look as if he could have sunk his arm up to the elbow between them. He dared not touch them for fear of offending her. She looked strong enough to pull his arms out of their sockets, so he let his hands come to rest around her waist instead.

Despite the cold that fell over the room whenever she appeared, her body was warm to the touch, inviting. He could hear the soothing thud of a heartbeat beneath her wool. Her skin was as smooth as glass, soft like satin wherever it wasn't covered by her fur, its unnatural hue making it glisten in the light. She gave him little choice but to touch her as she pressed him up against her voluptuous body, Ryan stiffening, unsure of whether she expected him to reciprocate. Even letting his hands rest on the subtle paunch of her belly and hips made him feel like he was crossing a line. Her scent was intoxicating, that earthy smell filling his lungs with each breath, her fine hairs tickling his nose.

It was as if the world around them began to melt away, his concerns suddenly seeming remote and faint. All that mattered was this sensation. He exhaled slowly, nuzzling gently as he felt her velvety coat against his cheek, the slow drumbeat of her powerful heart hypnotizing him. Her breathing was deep and rhythmic, inviting him to follow suit, his eyelids growing heavier. He was becoming drowsy, a kind of euphoria draping itself over him like a warm blanket, his muscles aching as though he had just run a marathon.

As he leaned into her, he felt her other arm wrap around him, cradling him in a warm cocoon of soft flesh and fluffy wool as his consciousness began to fade. It was like being sedated before surgery, irresistible, his eyes closing of their own accord as everything went dark.

"Sleep," she whispered in that oddly musical voice, her lips an inch from his ear.

In an instant, he was wide awake, sitting on the couch in his apartment again. His head snapped back and forth, Ryan trying to get his bearings as Nahash watched him with her ovine eyes.

"W-what the fuck was that?" he stammered, lurching to his feet and backing away from her. "What did you do to me?"

"As I said, I can help you sleep," she replied as she settled back into the couch. "My powers pale in comparison to those of my master, but I can see into the hearts of men, feel their emotions and their desires. I can also influence them to an extent. I can soothe fears and calm worries, ease loss, and dull pain." She cocked her horned head at him, batting those long eyelashes. "You feel violated. That was not my intention."

He rubbed his temples, unsure of how to respond. Yeah, it had been a violation. She had reached into his brain with her magick or her psychic powers or whatever the fuck it was that she did, and she had scrambled his brain like an omelet. She had changed his chemistry, or his thought process, or something. It was all muddled. Yet, that lingering calm still dulled his anger. The warmth and peace that she had foisted upon him had given him a brief respite from what she had described as his emotional turmoil. He felt all the worse now that it was over, like a rucksack full of bricks had been slung over his shoulders, the knot in his belly returning with a vengeance.

"I...I don't...know what that was," he muttered as he stared down at his hands.

"Should you wish it, I will stay with you until you fall asleep to ensure that your rest is peaceful," Nahash continued. "You cannot attend a job interview in your current state -- you are unkempt and poorly rested."

He shook his head, waving his hand dismissively.

"I need a minute. Just...don't do that shit again without asking me, okay?"

"Understood."

He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a mug of coffee from a pot that was sitting on the counter, taking a long draw of the lukewarm liquid in an attempt to shake off the drowsiness that still clung to him. It had felt...good, very good. It was a damn sight better than playing video games until he was exhausted, then downing a cap of NyQuil.

Nahash was right, of course. He was a fucking mess -- had been for weeks. There were dark bags under his eyes from sleep deprivation, and his face was covered in unshaven stubble. He didn't even have any ironed shirts. If he was going to find a job, then he needed to get his shit together, and maybe she could help him do that. That was why Orobas had sent her, after all. The guy knew what he was doing, and he hadn't been wrong yet.

Still, the idea of allowing her to manipulate him like that bothered him. His thoughts and emotions were his alone -- she had no business invading his mind. What else could she see and feel? Ryan glanced at her across the open-plan apartment, where she was still waiting for him on the couch, her oddly dissonant combination of woman and animal features drawing his gaze. Those comely hips, her soft thighs, those pert breasts that would have put any mortal woman to shame...

Could she sense his confused attraction to her -- read his intrusive thoughts as he tried to suppress them? He didn't dare to ask her.

"Expand your search for a job today," she called over to him from her seat. "My master will tell me what you decide, and if you desire it, I shall return tonight."

With that, she was gone, the stink of sulfur masking her pleasant, earthy scent.

CHAPTER 4: SWEET DREAMS

Ryan had finally found something -- a job interview for a good position in his field that paid well and was in range of his soon-to-be new car. After scheduling an interview by email, he slumped over his keyboard, exhausted and relieved. He had a car, he had a job interview, now he just needed to nail the face-to-face and he might actually be able to climb out of this hole.

He checked the clock on his taskbar, seeing that it was two in the morning. Time to get some sleep. He rubbed his itchy eyes and yawned widely, rising from his chair to stretch, the glow from his monitor bathing the room in its pale light. There was a growl from his stomach, a pang of hunger giving him pause. The job search had kept him up for hours, might be a good idea to get a bowl of cereal before turning in.

He made his way to the kitchen, the fridge bathing him in its dim glow as he opened the door, searching for some milk. After shaking the carton to make sure it wasn't empty, he rummaged for a box of corn flakes in one of the cupboards, then searched the sink for a clean bowl. The creaking of his chair echoed through the silent apartment as he sat down at the kitchen table, pouring himself a bowl of cereal, alone in the gloom.

This bachelor lifestyle didn't suit him. He had moved here to be with Becky, and now that she was gone, the apartment was as silent and as lifeless as a graveyard. With nobody around to impress, he was no longer taking care of himself. Even his cooking was lousy, and without Becky to feed him, he was eating like shit. He had stopped exercising, too, and his previously toned belly was starting to soften. He rested his face in his hand as he wolfed down the tasteless cereal, realizing that it was a little stale, but not caring enough to make himself a proper meal.

Maybe Nahash was right about his emotional turmoil. Maybe he was depressed or something, and he just didn't know it. This didn't feel like something that well-adjusted people did, eating stale cereal on their own in the dark at two AM. His mind wandered away from thoughts of good meals and warm beds, back to what the familiar had shown him, her superhuman ability to lull him into a calm and untroubled sleep.

It had taken him by surprise, which was part of the reason he had reacted so badly to it. He still didn't know how to feel about the idea that she could manipulate his emotional state and project illusions into his mind. What was a person, if not the culmination of their mental processes? The chemistry of their brain, the integrity of their thoughts, the decisions that defined them. When you subverted that, what did you make of them? Some kind of meat puppet with no free will of their own?

So many philosophical and theological questions had been raised by this whole venture that Ryan had just stopped thinking about them as Nahash had advised. It was better to just live his life and worry about the details when he had an eternity to mull them over.

Should he call her back again? The prospect of a good night's rest was appealing, but the thought of letting someone hypnotize him made his skin crawl. Still, he was starting to trust the familiar and her demonic master. Their plan was showing promise already, and they hadn't taken advantage of any opportunities to screw him over. At least, not so far.

What the heck -- he'd at least give it a try. If he didn't like it, then he could always forbid Nahash from doing it again. How should he contact her, though? Would Orobas just know because of his decision-based future-seeing powers?

As if to answer his question, a signature chill fell over the room, made all the more noticeable by the already cool autumn night. Nahash appeared in her usual spot near the summoning circle, emerging from the swirling vapors as he plugged his nose against the smell and waited for it to dissipate.

She walked over to him, her cloven footsteps loud and heavy on the wood floor, her wide hips rolling as she approached the table. Her nakedness was no less distracting in the dark, her pale skin and white fur seeming to glow in the cold moonlight that bled in through the blinds, the deep shadows only serving to accentuate her comely figure.

"You have decided," she announced in that husky, musical voice.

"I'll give it a try, but if I don't like it, will you stop?"

"I will," she replied with a curt nod.

"Okay, that's good," he said with a sigh of relief. "So...how do we..?"

"Come to the bedroom, if it pleases you."

Ryan's heart skipped a beat at the prospect. He had assumed that they would sit on the couch again, but he guessed that it made more sense to sleep in a bed. She seemed to sense his apprehension, and perhaps the twinge of arousal that shadowed it, her voice low and soft as she reassured him.

"Fear not. I do not seek to entrap you, only to help ease your sleep."

He hesitated for a moment, staring into his mostly eaten bowl of cereal, then rose to his feet with fresh determination.

"Alright, let's do it," he said. "Follow me."

He walked across the apartment as she followed behind him, her odd gait slowing so as not to outpace him on her longer legs, the pair stopping at the bedroom door. The apartment was open plan, and the only rooms that were sectioned off were the bathroom and the bedroom, for obvious reasons. Ryan opened the door with a creak and was immediately hit by a wall of cold air, cursing to himself as he realized that one of the windows had blown open. He hurried over to swing it shut, checking that it was secure this time, then closed the curtains to block out the surprisingly bright moonlight. Great, now it was freezing...

"Sorry, looks like the wind blew it open," he grumbled as he crossed his arms and shivered. Even the hardwood was cold enough that he could feel it through his socks. "Lemme go bump up the thermostat and we can give it a few minutes."

"It's fine," she replied, surveying the bedroom with her amber eyes. They seemed to glow in the low light almost like those of a cat, or perhaps she was producing that glow herself. Ryan's face reddened. He was a little embarrassed by the state of the room. There was dirty laundry piled on the floor, the bed hadn't been made, and the sheets and pillows were strewn all over the place. Becky had been the clean one -- she had done the laundry and made the beds while he was at work. It just wasn't part of his routine yet. Thinking back on it, maybe that had been part of the problem. She must have resented picking up after him.

"Aren't you cold?" Ryan asked.

"Cold is ideal," she replied with a smile. "If it pleases you, I would like to open the curtains. The moon is full tonight, and its light soothes me."

"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug, pulling them open and letting the moonlight flood in. Who knew, maybe the moon gave her power. Creatures of the night, and all that. She walked over to the bed, but Ryan held out a hand to stop her, hurriedly trying to straighten the blankets.

"Hang on, I gotta make the bed, it's a rat's nest."

"If that is how you prefer to sleep, then leave it."

"Well...I like my bed a little messy," he admitted as he fluffed up the pillows. "But, Becky-I mean, my ex-girlfriend always wanted everything clean and straightened out."

"This all reminds you of her," Nahash said, and Ryan paused to glance up at her. "You lived here together for a long time, and she has left her mark on this place. You cannot turn your head in this house without those memories surfacing."

"Yeah, I guess so," he mumbled as he rubbed his arm absent-mindedly. "It's not like I can move, though. I mean, maybe I could have, but I didn't ask for that in the contract. Gotta say, my first summoning was kind of poorly thought out," he added with a dry chuckle. "I could have asked for a lot more than I did."

"This is your home, Ryan," Nahash replied in a soothing tone. "You should not have to leave. Old memories will linger, they refuse to be forgotten, but the best way to overcome a painful memory is to replace it with a happy one. You see this as the center of your relationship with her -- you made love together here, you slept in each other's arms. That will always be its significance unless you move on and make new memories, give this bed a new significance."

"How do I do that?"

"I sense that you wish to replace your lost love, but that can never be. You cannot regain what was lost, but you can find something new. If you should search for another partner, then you must stop clinging to what was and open yourself to what will be, to new people and new experiences."

"That's easy to say, not so easy to put into practice," he grumbled as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"We can start right now," she continued. "What is more significant? Which memory will stand out in your mind? Sharing this bed with your scorned lover, or sharing it with a demon?"

"I guess that's true," he replied, his mood lightening somewhat. "Alright then, let's make this the demon bed."

He unbuckled his belt and slid off his pants, tugging off his socks and quickly sliding beneath the sheets to escape the frigid air. He watched Nahash from under the heavy blanket as she examined the bed with a skeptical expression. Perhaps it was different from what she was used to. She soon followed suit, lifting the blanket with her clawed hand and sitting down on the mattress. Ryan expected it to sag under her weight, but just like the couch, it didn't. She swung one of her long, goat-like legs up onto the bed, followed by the second. Before long, she was shuffling into place beside him. She had been so graceful on her feet, but she was unaccustomed to the piles of sheets, wriggling clumsily in an effort to get comfortable. Seeing her in such a mundane situation eased his tension, making her feel somehow more human and relatable.

The bed was a twin, and yet there was scarcely enough room for both of them. Her wide hips and thick thighs were pressing against his bare legs, and her exaggerated bosom was tenting the blanket, exposing him to the cold air. He tugged more of the sheets over to his side and shifted a little as he sealed the gap, the contrast of her smooth skin and downy wool creating a strange but welcome sensation.

Again, he was surprised by how warm she was. Their combined body heat was already warming the bed, and he felt her hook an arm around his shoulders as she drew him closer.

There was that smell again, like wet grass the morning after a rainstorm. His brain had already associated her scent with the overwhelming feeling of calm and relaxation. He was starting to become drowsy, and she hadn't even worked her magic yet.

There was nowhere to put his hands. Her body was so voluptuous, and he didn't know how she would respond should he touch her thigh or her breast. Just what the hell kind of relationship did they have here, anyway? She was apparently a woman, he was a man, she was nude and sharing a bed with him. Did demons have sex? Did he even want that from her, goat-headed she-demon that she was? It was all so confusing.

"Relax," she whispered, her warm breath blowing his hair. "Do not think. Lie still, and stop fretting." Her voice was so husky, a deep contralto that resonated in his bones with an oddly synthesized quality that reminded him of a vocal track from a 1980s synth-pop song.             

He tried to do as she asked, letting his face sink into that feathery ruff around her neck and chest, softer than any pillow that he could imagine. His thoughts were troubled, however, his heart beating faster as he peered down into the shadow beneath the blanket. The heavy sheets barely served to cover her.

"Nahash," he muttered, unable to contain himself any longer. "I gotta know...what is this, exactly? What should I-"

He felt her palm cradle his cheek as she pressed his face into the nape of her neck, her skin smooth and warm. Her other hand found his and guided it around her waist, easing him into a hug, encouraging him to sink his fingers into her doughy flesh. His face reddened as he felt the velvet-soft fat of her midriff beneath his digits, the subtle paunch of her belly and hips begging him to probe deeper. She was girthy enough that he would have struggled to wrap both arms around her. Her towering figure was downright Rubenesque, but her weight was distributed to all of the right places. It had been distracting to look at, but to have her hourglass hips and her heaving bosom pressing up against him was maddening. He suppressed his urges, and the pair lay wrapped in each other's arms, the slow beating of her massive heart and her rhythmic breathing captivating him.