Chapter 1 On the Road Again

Clause Fifteen

Ya know, this is one of the more unusual situations I've gotten myself into.

I'm in a stone cellar underground. I trail my hands over the thin cotton shift, surprised I'm not cold. I head to the sink, fill the cup with water and drink--again and again. Finally, the hangover lifts. Gotta love a young body. Nineteen years old and I bounce back like a mama!

The question is, how did I get here?

I flop back down to the mattress, wings splayed, hands tucked under my head. I stare at the sunlight slanting through the high, barred window. Dust motes dance delicately in the beam, giving me something to focus on that isn't the single wooden door beyond the bars.

We'd arrived at this fae court. I remember unpacking gear, setting up the band. J promised we'd get to sightsee this Court--it's meant to be stunning.

They paid me after sound check: a solid's evening's worth of fairy cakes and grog.

Maybe taking it all at once wasn't my smartest idea. Song three's the last thing I remember.

And now I'm here.

A loud click echoes through the room. The door swings open silently. No one's there--

Until I look down.

Holy all that is--these fae can be tiny.

'Glad to see you're up and hydrating. Are you hungry?' His voice is high and echoes faintly.

I sit up. 'A bit.'

He glides a brown sack through the bars, remaining out of arm's reach. 'Fruit, cheese, and nuts in that. With a few other items. Have any questions?'

I pull the sack to the mattress. 'Yes.'

He chuckles. 'Look inside first.'

I open it. Food, yes--but also paperwork. A scroll. I unroll it. The lines are dense, too much text to bother reading. But at the bottom--

My signature and yesterday's date.

My eyes snap to the top line.

'Contract of Servitude - Term Three (3) Years'

My heart slams in my chest. What have I done?

He drags up a chair and sits. A pixie. Maybe two feet tall.

'Can you read?'

My mouth goes dry. 'Is it legal?' My uncle's a lawyer.

He nods, dry smile. 'Yes. Do you understand the implications?'

I skim the first few paragraphs. I've signed three years of indentured servitude to this Realm.

'Is that your signature?' I ask him.

'It is. So here's is the deal: you do what I tell you. Behave, and things stay pleasant. Misbehave, and I pass your contract to another House.'

I swallow. 'What do I have to do?'

He smiles. 'You're a demon. You're strong--and pretty. What are your strengths?'

I pour another glass of water, drink it down, then return to the mattress. So many things come to mind.

'I'm a dancer. Great with computers. Office work. Data entry. I'm a good cleaner.'

He scoffs. 'We have plenty of those in this dorm already. Think, girl. What sets you apart from humans and dwarves?'

He leans forward. 'Do you follow Demon Edicts?'

I lick my lips. I think I see where this is going. 'Yes. I'm devout.'

His expression lights up. 'Now we're getting somewhere.'

I smile, more to myself than him.

He stands up and bows. 'I'm Rat. I'm your handler. This is the dorm basement. Would you be open to events that allow you to worship your gods?'

I cross my legs and flare my wings wide.

That? That's not work. That's all play and pleasure.

'Do I get paid?'

'Clause fifteen.'

I scroll down. At the end of my contract--units. A lot of units.

'Who covers living expenses?'

'All covered while you work the circuit. We provide food, clothing, make up, care products, medical, and STI and pregnancy prevention. The whole lot.'

A thrill races through my chest. I shiver. 'What about alcohol?'

He shrugs. 'I'm responsible for your health. You earn treats from clients.'

He smirks. 'The better you please the clients, the better the treats.'

'There are things I don't do. Who controls what I do?'

He meets my gaze, instantly serious. 'You do what you agree to. We fill out an annex to the contract that lists your taboos. It's my job to keep you healthy and safe. I vet the clients and the events. If you ever need help, I'm a call away.' He gestures to his neck.

It's then I register that I'm wearing a warm metal collar. Or he just magicked it there.

I don't have to think about it. 'When do I start?'

He chuckles. 'We need your measurements, dewdrop. You can do this yourself-- or I'll send Gud to help.'

A hulking bulk blocks the doorway.

I straighten my legs. 'What do you need?'

Rat gestures at the sack. 'A few measuring cones in there. You'll get the drift.'

I pull out three conical rods. Each thicker than the last.

Rat twirls a finger. 'I can help with lube. I recommend starting at the top. Measure all three holes, and I'll give you your first payment.' He holds a palm up with three blues. 'Or... I can send you to the farms.'

Good gods, no way.

I stand and skip the first rod.

I've been a diligent worshiper since I was thirteen. I suspect I'll need the end of the third.

'Put some music on, Rat.'

He pulls a phone out. A groovy beat fills the air.

I sway, spin. The shift falls away. My leathery wings stretch wide, brushing each wall of the cell.

I run my hands over my body, cupping my tiny human breasts, teasing my nipples as delicious vibes ripple through me.

I might mention--I love being watched.

I knee, shifting my weight as I slowly work the rod down my throat.

Rat watches wide-eyed, taking notes on his phone.

This isn't punishment. It's opportunity.

I'm at a fae court.

Locked in a cell.

There's no sound but the beat of the music--and Rat's pen scribbling down my measurements.

Tomorrow, I start worship.

~*~

Toy Rule one: speak only when spoken to

I look in the mirror, amazed at her reflection. The chainmail top ends just below her A-cup boobs, the skimpy black mini skirt looks tight over her sexy thighs. I look down--black painted painted toenails, five-inch black heels, slick and sharp. Her hair's grown into a curly mop. Her tattooed body is bare, every inked line glowing with her story.

Rat likes that I'm part human. Real bobs. Human toes. Fae go crazy for it. Claws scare them off.

Rat closes his office door with a twist of magic. 'Bend over.'

I immediately spread my legs and grab my ankles.

He climbs his large stool ladder. I know better than to laugh. His finger part my cheeks. Cold goo squirts in, a plug pops into place.

Rat's is a good handler. Keeps us healthy and un-chafed. Means quicker turnaround between sex events.

Robes aside, he rubs against my slit. Honestly, I don't feel a thing until he sighs. A tingle shoots through my lady bits.

Pixie cum's the best lube--lasts for hours.

Rat leans back in his office chair. 'Gud'll escort you. Be the temptress. They want a performance. Repeat business might lead to a private contract.'

He says the same every time.

I tilt my head at the address. Nicer part of town--noble party. 'Gud insists that I blow him before we leave. Is that... required?'

I hate Gud. He tastes like brussel sprouts rotted in summer. I don't think he washes between toys, either.

Rude doesn't look up. 'If you want to arrive safe and leave safe, keep Gud happy.'

The door creeks open. Gud waits outside, tall and goat-bodied. Rumour says his granddad was a troll. He clips my leash to his collared wrist.

Even Gud's a servant. He's just found a good Patron, so he gets better duties. Better perks. He tugs hard on the leash. "You're late."

Good. No need to suck his musty sheep today. Don't want my breath ruined for the clients.

~*~

At the mansion, I stand tethered to the wall along with other Toys on display. My wings stretch wide, drawing eyes to my waist and hips. The Toys beside me slump.

Bad posture. Amateur mistake.

I flex my thighs, curl my painted toes in those five-inch fuck-me heels, arch just enough to flash what's under my skirt.

Two fae pause in front of my dais.

One's grey skinned and lean--a dark fae. Perfect. Their jizz gives my kind of demon the best high. I want him.

The other fae is peach-skinned and bored. His gaze slides past me to the human guy down the line--the one in chains and glossed lips.

No. No, not him. Pick me.

I flutter my wings--just enough to look nervous. Vulnerable. Fuckable. I tilt my head, eyes low under my lashes. My tongue skims my top lip.

Pick me, pick me, pick me--

'Turn around.'

I pivot slowly with a hip-circle that makes my wings shimmer. I give my coyest look as Grey lifts my skirt.

I gasp, soft and eager. His fingers graze my slit--I clench, shiver on cue.

Demon ladies can't shape-shift, but our pelvic floors do all the work. We mould to our lovers.

Peaches still stares at the guy in chains.

No. Gods-dammit. I can't let that brat ruin my perfect score!

I roll my shoulders back, glide one hand to Grey's chest. I steal a whisper of energy from his reserves--just enough to tease.

His mouth parts. His pupils flare.

He licks his lips like he already owns me.

Grey unhooks my leash. 'Come with us.'

I strut past the human, sticking my tongue out. First Toy picked--again. My perfect score's safe.

Peaches returns to the table with a six-pack of fairy cakes and a large pitcher of plum wine. He tilts his head at me.

'Do you have any neat tricks? Flame? Fast healing? Mind reading?'

I shake my head. 'No, Sir.' I have my secrets that give me the edge; not that I'm going to spill them to anyone.

He shrugs, handing me fairy cake and full glass. 'We want a good time. I have to go in two hours.'

I smile, cake in hand. 'Get ready for your world to rock.'

I wash the cake down with the plum wine and wait.

I turn to Grey, I drop to my knees. 'You chose. You should go first.'

His grin spreads, predatory. I pull his robes aside. He gasps as I bury my head in his groin. I suck his limp penis until it stiffens. I'm relentless--pulling, licking, teasing. I take his balls in now and then. He's two inches at best, but size isn't my end game.

He grabs my C-shaped horns and pumps fast into my face. I keep pressure, tease with my tongue. He comes hard. Burnt marshmallow bursts in my mouth--at least, that's how I interpret the taste of fae jizz.

I love burnt marshmallows. It's a demon thing.

I swallow every drop and wait.

Third high. There it is.

I turn to Peaches with a smile. 'What would you like now, Sir?'

He points to the stool. 'Lean over this. I want you from behind.'

~*~

Slipy Slidy

Hours later, I float on the high of my treats and multiple orgasms. I'm the last Toy standing--and the centre of the party.

I'm on my favourite stool: a wooden split seat that locks my thighs apart, leaving plenty of room--front and back.

A low chuckle hits me like a shot of dark liquor. A fae lady steps forward. Her eyes rake me in. 'You're dripping, dewdrop. Ready for more?'

I groan as her fist fills me in one smooth push. Dazed by how dainty her hands are, how destructive. A guy enters me from behind, thick and slow, laughing deep in his chest as he splits me further.

'Oh fuck--yes!' I lean against him, riding the pleasure train.

She spreads her fingers massaging my g-spot hurried circles.

'Make yourself bigger.' Hands orders the guy behind me.

The guy drilling into my backside just laughs, keeps pounding, dick stretching me wider with every slow, invasive thrust.

'Ooooohhhhhh--' I can't help the moans.

Neither can Poker. He grunts, then bites down hard on my neck. That's going to leave a mark. Hands--my lovely frontside tormentor--lifts something in her other hand: two pink tablets and a bite-sized cake.

'Make him cum, dewdrop, and you get another.'

Deal.

I clench down tight, grind against her knuckles. The internal pressure is dizzying. My moans become breathless whimpers as I cheat--just a sip of lifeforce. He doesn't notice. They never notice, not when they're close.

He shouts, jerks, and pumps, balls emptying inside me with a raw, throat-shredding groan. The energy hit is small, but clean. As he softens and slips out, I grin. Fairies are so delicate.

Then it happens.

Hands drops out of sight--and her mouth clamps to my ass. I feel the suction, the warm drag of her tongue rimming me, tasting everything that's occurred all evening.

Gods' it's filthy. It's divine. Her hand's still buried inside me, unmoving but hot.

She slurps deeper, tongue sliding far into my hole. No idea how much cum she's devoured down there, but she separates with a wet plop that sounds like a fucking plunger. Her arm wraps around my waist. She lifts her hand, offering the prize: a mashed ball of pills and magical high.

Hungry eyes are on us. The fae love a show. Especially when the demon's the main act.

She starts again, working her fist inside me. 'Come for me, dew drop. Don't hold out. I've got a bet on eight--we're two away.'

Her breath is thick with cum and power. Has a dark fae ridden me tonight? I sniff at her cheek, desperate for a whiff of their magic. Gods-damn, I'm jealous. That high's not coming back.

Wings flutter. Legs land on my shoulders.

A tiny flier straddles my head and shoves a glistening slit into my face.

'Eat me, Demon. Make me scream.'

Oh fuck. Yes, Ma'am.

My mouth locks onto her, lips teasing her wet folds as she balances herself on my horns. Hands pistons me below, rougher this time. I'm dripping, wide open, welcoming the thrust.

The pixie above me gasps when I suck hard on her clit. She tastes like spun sugar. I lap her up greedily, tongue flicking inside her tight slit, long and strong. She can't be more than a foot tall, light as a wisp--but she rides my chin like she owns it. Hands clutch my horns as her tiny hips bounce. Her clit catches against my nose with every rock. I give it all to her, let my tongue fuck and pulse, and with each lick, I take just the smallest bite of her energy.

Her scream is glorious. High-pitched, sharp, piercing with pleasure. Her body seizes again clamps down on my face as she shakes, then groans. Her orgasm shudders against my lips.

It tips me.

I come hard. My body bucks around Hand's arm, her crooning soft against my ear as she slows her pace, easing me through the shivering pulses. It's a slow wave--dragging and rolling--and when it ends, she slides her fist free.

She holds her hand up. Fingers spread, my slick bridged between them in gleaming strands.

A cheer erupts from the onlookers.

I don't know who's still watching, and honestly, I don't care. They're enjoying the Demon Fucking Show, and I've never felt more alive. Three years of this? Bring it on, baby!

A cool cloth drags down my spine. Someone's cleaning me gently, washing sweat and slick from my skin.

I laugh. I can't help it.

Flying high with the fairies.

Oh gods, did I just say that out loud?

One more and Hands wins the bet. I owe it to her.

~*~

All the way home

As I sit there, warm arms embrace me from behind. A tall being, I lean back, supported as my body gives out.

'You came well. It's time to rest.'

He helps me down, carries my weight as he guides me to a sofa in the dark.

'I need one more,' I protest. 'She said--'

'It's done,' he murmurs. 'Aphid owns this joint. You inspired her to join in. She came. They counted it.''

He washes me gently, hands sure and patient. I should resist, but I melt. My body's humming, high from every direction. I've taken only scraps tonight--energy from the edge of climax--but I've given more. That's how I trigger them.

I cheat.

And no one knows.

He kneels between my legs, lips suspended above mine. I blink. He's not taking, not assuming.

He's asking. Demon style.

My exhaustion stumbles. Desire kicks up in its place. I pull him down into a kiss.

He whispers against my mouth: 'Can I make love to you?'

Gods. Yes.

I answer with my body. I drag him inside with my thighs, and he yields--so slow, so reverent I almost cry. As he moves, something shifts. Something cool floods into me.

Energy.

Real, clean energy. Not siphoned. Given.

I'm starving--I drink deep.

He gasps. 'Do it again.'

So I do. His groans stretch into shudders, until we fall together, trembling.

The energy rolls into me like silk.

Who the fuck taught this human how to do that?

The room tilts sideways. My last treat kicks in, warping the air, warping time.

A battery?

'Marry me,' I murmur, wrecked.

He collapses against me, breath ragged, tears soaking my shoulder.

'Zee, I'm so sorry. I got you collected. I thought I could help you, my love. That band--' He chokes. 'They sold you to a higher bidder.'

The static in my ears rises.

'Ruun?' My voice is small. The name cracks something inside me.

Wings flare behind him--rainbow light. His face glows.

Or maybe I'm hallucinating the whole thing.

The world slips sideways.

I struggle to focus on him. Really see him.

~*~

I wake up much later in my bed at the dorms.

I feel glorious. Limbs aching in the way that says worshipped. My fingers drift down, tracing my folds as memories start to return--

The lady on my horns. The burst of energy from someone.

Ruun.

Why did he return to my thoughts?

We were always in trouble--soul-twins bound too tight. For six months, he was my battery. Never once did we make love. He denied me that request.

Just a high fantasy. Something my drug-fueled brain conjure to soothe the ache.

But gods, it would've been glorious.