Tormentor

"They're not as bad as they used to be. So what brings you around here?"

"Oh, yeah... listen, you don't have anyone living in there with you, do you?"

"In here? No, why?"

Cliff shrugged, "One of your neighbors heard some noises that seemed out of the ordinary, so I said I'd check it out. I mean, I thought you said you didn't have any family or anything."

"I don't, none that know me, anyway. I mean, I did have a friend over the other day," Terry lied, "A girl I knew from school. We were catching up, but nothing unusual."

"Well, we all get visitors now and again," Cliff replied.

'Nothing like the visitor I get,' Terry thought, and then said, "Sure, even I do on occasion. Don't worry, though. She lives nearby, so she doesn't even stay the night here. I know the rules on extended guests."

"That's good, then. Okay, well then, have a good one. I'll be around in ten days to collect rent, okay?"

"Sure thing, Cliff. See you then."

He closed the door, locked it, and then shook his head, amazed. Apparently, the fact that neighbors could hear him and Celeste having sex lent evidence to the effect that maybe Terry wasn't crazy or hallucinating this whole thing.

"Already lying about me, I see," Celeste said from behind him, startling him.

"N-not exactly lying... just stretching the truth. Apparently, we've been making too much noise... I don't think I can... perform as you might want right at this moment. I'm too damn sore, still."

"Oh, I'll just have to do without for now, then, shan't I?" it touched his chest, "There is plenty of time for that when you are well again. Does that mean I cannot enjoy the pleasure of your company?"

Terry stumbled to his bathroom to relieve himself, even that task painful with all his aches and pains, let alone aiming the stream. He got a bottle of aspirin from his medicine cabinet and extracted two from the bottle.

"How long has it been since you last left this place?" it asked.

"I had to go to the doctor to get sleeping pills about a month ago, but now he visits when I call." he answered, washing the pills down with a swig of orange juice, "But otherwise, I try to limit my contact with people as much as possible."

"And you spoke of loneliness to me?"

"Apparently I appear... unbalanced to people. Kids in school used to call me a freak, because I always looked pale, sick. After a while of being made fun of for it, I simply decided that not being around people like that seemed preferable to trying to fit in."

"So you have need of a companion even more than I. It appears we both can gain something from our... union."

"You make it sound like we're married," he noticed.

"Would you rather I consider our arrangement a relationship?"

"Whichever you'd prefer... it all comes down to the same thing, right? You use me to live, I use you to not be alone."

It frowned, "Perhaps you believe that only humans are capable of affection, of companionship?"

"Most humans I know aren't capable of either. Are you saying that daemons are?"

Celeste looked out the window for a moment, and then shrugged, "I believe I have developed some affection for you. I enjoy your company, after all."

It stared in the mirror, examining itself while he showered, turning the water as hot as he could stand to help relax his sore muscles.

"Would you not prefer me to change my form to something more your desire?" it asked.

Terry considered it for a moment, and then replied, "Like what?"

"I can take the form of any woman you lust after."

Terry washed, working up a good lather, "I think you're beautiful just the way you are. There's no need to change from that."

"How sweet," it chuckled, and then got in the shower with him.

"I have always been curious of your bathing habits," it admitted, "May I participate?"

"Sure, if you'd like. Maybe you'd like me to wash you?"

"Sounds like fun," it smiled.

He squeezed some body wash into his hand and began lathering up its upper back and shoulders, feeling the powerful muscles underneath. He moved down to its lower back, and then detoured to its arms.

"This does feel quite enjoyable," it sighed, submitting contentedly.

It turned, and he began soaping up its breasts, feeling their full firmness, the nipples hardening under his touch.

"And now you begin teasing me?"

"I can stop, if you want," he offered.

"And where would be the fun in that?" it smiled playfully.

He continued with its breasts for another moment, and moved his hands down to its taut stomach, its sides, and then reached around to soap up its butt and the backs of its thighs.

"There is an unusual sensuality to being bathed like this. It may be an increased sense of intimacy in which you are touching me. And I see that you share this opinion."

He looked down and saw that he was fully erect.

He knelt before it and began to work up a lather on its legs, and it rested a foot on his thigh as he tended each leg before getting to its cunt. It grinned and spread its thighs to allow him better access. It became momentarily disappointed when he stopped, and then he detached the shower wand from its retaining clip, changed the setting on it to massage, and directed the spray on its exposed cunt. Its eyes opened wide for a second as he did, and then slipped closed. It writhed, leaning back against the wall, its thighs spread, the massaging spray beating against it frantically. As Terry watched, fascinated, its hips began jerking forward, and it clutched his shoulder, crying out as it came, spasms wracking its body, and then it shook its head helplessly, making shooing motions with its trembling hand. He turned the shower wand to aim down, and it slid slowly down to the floor of the tub to recover for a moment.

When it...she, he decided, it was a 'she' now... stood up, she crushed her body against his, kissed him deeply, quite excited, definitely enjoying the whole showering experience. Then she slipped to her knees and took his still-sore, but very aroused dick in her mouth. She slid her tongue all over the over-sensitive flesh, the heat of her mouth almost unbearable, and as he began thrusting himself deeper into her mouth, she grabbed his hips and encouraged him to thrust harder. As she took his entire length, her lips sealed tightly around him, she let go of his hips so that he could thrust at his leisure. With the furnace of her mouth, her playful tongue, and the way she gazed up at him, it wasn't long at all before he couldn't contain himself any longer. He grabbed her head, pulling it toward him as he thrust, and, with one last hard thrust, jets of his cum went straight down her throat. She sucked it greedily, massaging his testicles, wanting more, but he only had so much. Finally, she backed up, letting go of him, and he used the wall for support, as his legs were shaky and unsure.

"I-I think I can go again, if you want to..." he offered, but she shook her head.

"I'd really rather not break you," she stood, pressing herself against him, "We should show some restraint, perhaps once or twice at a time, and then give you rest. We have years, after all, many years ahead of us, and it would be a shame if you overextended yourself so soon."

So, still enjoying the intimacy, they rinsed each other off, and he got out first, drying off quickly before grabbing another towel for her. He wrapped the towel around her as she stepped out, and as she dried herself off, he realized that he no longer felt filthy, corrupted by her touch... and that, yes, he thought of her now as 'her,' a woman, yes, still a daemon, but not a demon. If she was going to be with him as long as she said, it wouldn't do to think of her as 'it' anymore. He was still sore, though maybe not as sore as if she had wanted him inside her next in the shower. She tossed her towel over one of the chairs at the small table near the kitchenette, sat on the bed, her gloriously nude body fresh and clean, her deep-blue eyes on him as he plodded wearily to the bed.

"Now rest," she instructed, "I shall leave you to dream as you will, and I will return once you are well-rested."

"Okay, Celeste," he groaned as he rolled onto his side, falling asleep almost instantly, and she looked down at him for a moment, her eyes spying his soul, which burned brighter than ever. The last human she had spoken of hadn't even possessed a soul half as bright as Terry's, and she knew at once why. The last human, who had been bigger, better-muscled, but much tinier of mind, continued to think her a devil, sent to torment him, to fuck him until he died. His belief was that she had risen up from the bowels of some underworld, a lust-demon, to seduce and bed men until their hearts burst and they died, so that she could have their souls.

It was true, she did that to lesser men with dimmer souls, but it was the special souls she sought. The dimmer ones only temporarily slaked her need. The man, who did indeed last for seven hundred years, tried to take his own life on several occasions and was bound for his trouble each time until he simply gave in, becoming a reluctant, brooding, resentful wretch of a man. Not to mention, but the man was horrible in bed as well, never good for more than a few minutes at most, and never ready so quickly as Terry was. And Terry had taken to it a mere few days, not only actively participating, and lasting much longer, but actually bringing her pleasure as well. And that shower! Never before had she had such an experience with a man like that, and she intended to have many showers with Terry in the future.

She touched his brow, looked at him, and then stood up. She closed her eyes, her form altering, becoming something non-physical, ethereal, drifting down through the floor and away, through a small rend in reality, leaving it behind for the dimension in which she existed, to wait, what was a day or two in an eternity, though it passed no slower in her dimension than it did in Terry's. He slept; she could feel his soul, even here, could see all their souls, blinking out there from their dimension like little stars, and that big one, that was Terry's, it almost hurt to look directly at it. That one was hers... but he was hers, too. It was difficult to believe that he would continue to live for only a few hundred years. With a soul that special, he might last a good thousand years, each sip she took of his life force like using a straw to suck out all the water from the oceans of his world. Content, she waited. Soon enough, he would be ready for her once more. But waiting is always the hardest part.