Demons ‘n Things
by Cordial Knot
CHAPTER 1: A STRANGE DELIVERY
Mr. Weaver was a small time antiques dealer in New York City. He was proud to own a modest two story brick building on a tightly-packed street. His shop was set up on the first floor while his family made their home on the second. Business wasn’t great, but there was always enough profit to pay the bills. Several customers made regular visits to Mr. Weaver’s shop, knowing that he had contacts all over the world that sent him interesting items to sell.
It was early in the morning one day when Mr. Weaver received a new shipment from one of his best scouts. As always the man had outdone himself; filling an entire crate with unusual pieces from the Middle East. Each item had been meticulously labeled with its origin and function. The morning passed by quickly as Mr. Weaver worked to unload the treasures and set them up aesthetically around the shop. Ordinarily his wife would have been helping to unload, but she was running a few errands before walking their daughter, Brooke, home from school. By late afternoon everything had been accounted for and Mr. Weaver began taking apart the crate.
As he pulled out the straw padding, something fell to the floor and landed with a metallic ringing sound. Stooping, Mr. Weaver picked up a golden necklace with a broken chain. The pendant on the chain had an elaborate pattern carved into it and, weighing it in his hand, it felt like solid gold. The trinket was cold to the touch and barely warmed in the heat of Mr. Weaver's hand. On the back there were a few obscure etchings. If he had been able to read ancient Persian, Mr. Weaver might have translated the inscription as "The Heart of Lust." Mr. Weaver double-checked the inventory list but his scout had not mentioned the broken necklace. Shrugging, he tossed it onto a table to fix at a later date.
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A few weeks went by and the necklace was all but forgotten. It was a quiet afternoon in the shop, so Mr. Weaver had settled down at his workbench to attend to some of his “fix-it” projects. The necklace caught his eye, lying forlornly at one corner of the table. Someone would certainly buy it if the clasp was fixed. Pulling out several jewelers’ tools, Mr. Weaver went to work. He was still trying to force the clasp back into place when his daughter came running into the shop. Brooke was a cute 11-year-old with long brown hair that reached passed her shoulders and dark brown eyes that, right now, were filled with tears.
Concerned, Mr. Weaver hurried over to where his daughter had collapsed on the floor, crying. From what Mr. Weaver could make out between the sobs, some girl… Anna… had teased Brooke in front of some boy… Kevin… that she (Brooke) had liked. Mr. Weaver was a little exasperated to find out that this was all that had happened. Still, he realized that this had been traumatic for Brooke. Probably more so because Brooke and Anna were on the same extra-curricular swim team and had always gotten along well. Casting about for ideas on how to cheer his daughter up, Mr. Weaver realized that he was still holding the golden necklace.
“Brooke,” he began, holding out the necklace. “Would this make you feel better?”
“What is it?” A few tears still trickled down, but Brooke had always loved her dad’s treasures.
“It’s, uh… an amulet… from the Middle East. If you wear it, it’ll bring good luck.” Then, realizing what he had said, Mr. Weaver hurried to add, “It’s broken right now, but I’ll fix it up for you.”
He pressed the trinket into her hand and, as he did so, they both felt a small electric shock. Mr. Weaver winked at his daughter. “See, there, that was the magic kicking in.”
Brooke rolled her eyes and held up the necklace to see how it would look. Suddenly, the clasps came together as if they were magnets. Brooke looked at her father, but Mr. Weaver had no idea why the clasps suddenly worked. He shrugged.
“I guess it really is magic. Why don’t you go to upstairs and get some homework done? Oh, and Mom’s driving you to swim practice today.”
Her crisis more or less forgotten, Brooke made a noncommittal gesture and climbed the staircase to the second floor. Once in her room, Brooke tossed her backpack into a corner and flopped down onto her bed. For some reason the bed felt softer than usual and her eyelids slowly began to droop. Before she fell asleep completely Brooke roused herself, reluctantly deciding to get some homework done before swim practice. But it was strangely hard to get out of bed. The golden necklace felt very heavy on her chest. Brooke suddenly noticed that there was a strange whispering coming from it. Something was coaxing her to sleep, making her feel much more tired than she should. Brooke tried to block her ears, but her arms might as well have been made of stone. Getting desperate, Brooke tried to call out only to find that she couldn’t make a sound. The only sound was the oppressive whispering, filling her head with promises of rest. Slowly, Brooke stopped trying to ignore the whispers. Her head slumped to the slide as her consciousness fled and darkness closed in on her.
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Brooke woke up when she felt something warm on her chest. The panicked-filled moments before she had fallen asleep now seemed like nothing more than a fading dream. Thoughts of that dream were quickly replaced by confusion as Brooke noticed that her new necklace was glowing with a fiery red color. It felt hot against her skin and Brooke tried to pull it off. But it seemed that the chain shrunk whenever she pulled on it, only to lengthen again once she had let go. Brooke jumped out of bed and was running to get her parents when, finally, it grew so hot that she screamed.
All of a sudden the flickering glow vanished and with it went the unbearable heat. Brooke paused in the hall outside her room, checking for burn marks on her hands and shirt. But there was nothing. The trinket hung on its chain innocently; it had even reacquired the unnatural chill that it usually gave off.
Brooke rubbed her head in confusion and suddenly shrieked again. As she had run her hand through hair, she had felt two hard protrusions. Brooke ran to her bathroom and raked her fingers through her hair as she looked in the mirror. Mostly hidden beneath her dark brown hair were two stubby black horns growing out of her forehead. They were only half an inch long but they peeked out a little from her bangs when she let her hair fall down. As she tried to arrange her hair to completely cover these inexplicable horns, Brooke noticed something else. As she leaned closer to the mirror, she felt something pressing between her jeans and her panties.
Nervously, Brooke unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down around her ankles. As she turned to check herself in the mirror, Brooke bit back another scream. Curling downward from the base of her spine was a tail. It was black like her new horns and it looked like a tail which a devil might have in a cartoon: long and thin like a rat’s tail, ending in a broad arrowhead. Brooke tensed with panic and, as she did so, her tail curled up reflexively to tickle her panties.
Suddenly Brooke heard her mom coming down the hall, probably in response to her screams. Brooke turned hurriedly to close her bathroom door but tripped over her jeans and fell. She flailed and actually did slam the door shut as she fell to the ground with a thump. Quietly, Brooke started to cry.
“Brooke?” Mrs. Weaver’s voice drifted in from the other side of the door. “Are you alright? I thought I heard you screaming.”
Brooke stifled her sobbing. “I’m… fine, Mom. Just go away.”
“Well, alright. When do you want to leave for swim practice?”
Brooke’s eyes widened with fear. “I think I need to skip it today.”
Mrs. Weaver’s voice grew stern. “Brooke, we’ve talked about this before. You made a commitment to your team. That means going to all the practices.”
“But,” Brooke felt the tears returning, “I really don’t want to go.”
“You’re going.” Her mother started to walk away.
“Then we have to be there ten minutes early,” Brooke called out desperately. At least then she could get changed before the other girls arrived and hopefully devise a way to tuck her tail into her swimsuit.
There was a long pause during which Mrs. Weaver was likely rolling her eyes. “Fine, then.”
As the sound of her mother’s footsteps receded, Brooke drew her legs against her chest in the fetal position. As she lay on the bathroom floor, her tail curled around her legs and Brooke thought she could hear faint laughter coming from the stone around her neck.
CHAPTER 2: IN TOO DEEP
Brooke slumped dejectedly in the back seat of her mom’s car. Pointedly ignoring her daughter’s sulking, Mrs. Weaver kept up a steady stream of one-sided conversation. Brooke bumped her head against the window in frustration, but quickly recoiled as one of her horns produced a scraping sound when it hit the glass. They reached the pool where Brooke’s team met for their practices almost twenty minutes before most of the other girls would normally show up. Almost before the car had pulled to a stop, Brooke had thrown open the door and jumped out with her pack. She stormed away without a backwards glance. Mrs. Weaver sighed tiredly before driving away.
Brooke hurried to the locker rooms, bracing herself to confront the sight of her new tail. She set down her pack and pulled out her blue one-piece swimsuit. Hopefully, she stuck her hand down the back of her jeans. No such luck: the strange tail was still there, cramped in her tight pants. Reluctantly, Brooke stripped out of her clothes and pulled on her swimsuit. It had a low back so she had to tuck her tail in just above her butt. She went over to the bathroom mirror and looked herself over. Her horns were fairly well hidden, it was lucky she had dark hair. Her coiled tail pressed against the fabric of her swimsuit, but it wasn’t as noticeable as she had feared. All in all, Brooke was in a fairly good mood when Anna suddenly walked in.
“What are you doing here?” Anna, a blond 12-year-old, seemed to alternate between considering Brooke to be a friend and considering her to be a nuisance. Apparently, right now, Brooke was a nuisance.
Brooke paused before saying, rather cleverly she thought, “I’m here every Tuesday; we have practice, remember?”
“Ha ha.” Anna sneered. “I mean: what are you doing here so early? Did you just want to make sure Kevin couldn’t find you?”
Brooke was so upset that she wanted to strangle the smug girl. It was bad enough that Anna had made fun of her in front of Kevin today, but why did she have to keep bringing it up? Anna deserved some payback.
~I can help you.~ A deep voice reverberated through Brooke’s mind. Brooke froze in surprise.
~Hello?~
~I said I can help you deal with the girl.~ The voice sounded a little annoyed at having to repeat itself. Really, this was the last straw for poor Brooke. She decided that the voice in her head, in addition to her new horns and tail, meant that she must be going crazy. Or the whole world was.
~You’re not crazy, Brooke.~
~Then what’s going on?~
~You’ve become a succubus. It means that…~ the voice hesitated for a fraction of second ~…you’ll have magical powers.~
~Sure.~ Brooke’s mental voice was thick with sarcasm. ~And what are you?~
~I’m many things, but right now I’m just a part of your necklace.~ The voice was capricious; it had gone from seriously annoyed to kindly and gentle within the space of a few words.
~What’s your name?~
~Asmodeus.~ The voice suddenly switched back to being annoyed. ~But that isn’t important. Do you want help dealing with the girl or not?~
~I guess so. You’re not going to hurt her are you?~
~Of course not.~ Disconcertingly, the voice had reverted to a soothing tone.
Brooke suddenly became aware of her surroundings again. It seemed like no time had passed during her mental conversation. Anna was still standing in front of her, apparently waiting for some response. Brooke struggled to remember the thread of their conversation, but her mind was still reeling from her talk with the voice. Anna waited a few seconds longer before rolling her eyes and pushing past Brooke to go change into her swimsuit. Brooke cocked her head as the voice spoke to her once more and told her what to do.
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Anna had just finished pulling on her swimsuit. She began stuffing her clothes and her pack into an open locker. Behind her, she heard the soft tread of bare feet. Half-turning, she saw that Brooke was still in the locker room.
“Were you watching me change? You perv, wait till I tell Kevin.”
“You wouldn’t do that to me, would you Anna?” Brooke’s little-girl voice was impossibly sweet. Anna’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. Brooke suddenly seemed prettier than usual. Her one-piece swimsuit clung to the curves of her young body. Anna’s eyes were drawn to the girl’s sun kissed skin and she felt uncomfortably unattractive by comparison. Her face was flushed and her eyes dilated when she finally managed to tear her eyes away from Brooke’s body and meet her gaze. She jerked back a little in surprise- Brooke’s brown eyes were now a deep red color. They seemed to be drawing in light, enhancing their own radiance. Anna unconsciously took a step forward, drawn by a powerful pull.
“We’re friends after all, aren’t we?” A slight edge had entered Brooke’s voice but it was still honey-coated to Anna’s ears. Some part of Anna’s mind knew that something unnatural was happening. A core of resistance survived, although it was being slowly eroded as Anna stared into Brooke’s vibrant eyes. With a herculean effort of will, Anna turned her head and broke the eye contact. She started shuddering uncontrollably.
“What’s wrong, Anna?” Somehow, Brooke was suddenly right behind her. Gently, almost lovingly, Brooke brought her hands up to caress Anna’s face. Still shaking, Anna couldn’t pull away.
“Come on, now.” Brooke turned Anna’s face so that they were looking into each other’s eyes once more. Anna was lost. Standing so close, Anna felt the full force of Brooke’s eyes. The last shreds of will she had were leached away in an instant and she had the sensation of falling into twin pools of blood. Brooke let go and Anna slumped to the ground.
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~What happened to her?~
~You’re the one that did it.~ The voice sounded smug.
~You didn’t tell me she would be like this. She’s not moving.~ Brooke was worried that she’d get into trouble.
~She’s under your control, just like I said.~ Angry again. The voice seemed very quick to anger.
~I guess. Now what?~
~Now we start her transformation.~
~Wait. Wha--~ Before Brooke could finish her thought a great presence enveloped her consciousness. It was the voice, its mind magnified a hundredfold. It was all around her, slowly seeping into her identity.
~You and the girl will have to exchange… a portion of yourselves.~ The voice surrounded her entirely. As it spoke, it showed Brooke a vivid depiction of Anna and herself in the 69 position.
~Stop… don’t…~ There wasn’t room in her head for two minds. Brooke felt as if she was sinking; the voice was crushing her willpower. After one last desperate attempt to brace herself, Brooke was completely in the thrall of the voice.
When the voice ordered her to take off her swimsuit, Brooke did so. Brooke was aware of what was happening, even if she couldn’t resist. Anna, on the other hand, stared ahead vacantly without seeming to recognize her surroundings. Then, taking control of Brooke’s vocal cords, the voice ordered Anna to pull off her swimsuit. The girl did so, though her eyes remained dull.
Directing the girls like a master puppeteer, the voice had Brooke and Anna curl up on the floor around each other. Brooke was left facing Anna’s pussy while Anna, still blank-faced, was lined up with hers. As ordered, Brooke and Anna each propped a leg up to give the other easier access. The voice guided the innocent girls through the process of oral sex. Anna obediently brought her lips to Brooke’s folds and began exploring Brooke’s flesh with her tongue. Feeling a strange sensation, Brooke wanted to pull away. But the voice had a firm hold on her mind and ordered her to taste Anna’s pussy. Soon, both girls were building up the other’s pleasure.
As Brooke licked Anna’s slit, a glimmer of intelligence returned to Anna’s eyes. The pleasure was acting as a trigger, bringing back her old self. Anna wondered briefly why she was licking some girl’s cunny. But that thought, and any others she may have had, evaporated in a sudden wave of pleasure.
Brooke climaxed a second later. She may not have been in control of herself but she still felt her body react to Anna’s stimulation. As she gave herself over to her first orgasm, Brooke felt the voice recede in her mind. That was the last thing she noticed for quite some time.
Anna rolled onto her back. Her orgasm, rather than fading, was growing stronger. Anna clenched her hands, wanting the pleasure to stop and wanting it to go on forever. Through the ecstasy, she felt her hands and feet tingling. The orgasm suddenly spiked again and Anna screamed. In the throes of pleasure, Anna felt her skin shifting until it stretched like elastic. She clawed at the tile floor and, as she did, she became aware that she now had webbed hands. Before Anna could do anything more, a final surge of pleasure jolted through her and she blacked out.
Feeling as though she was waking from a dream, Brooke shook herself loose of the last vestiges of the voice’s control. Anna was lying flat on her back, twitching a little as her orgasm ended. Brooke did notice that Anna’s hands and feet were webbed and that her tongue, visible now as Anna’s mouth hung open, was inexplicably forked. For some reason these observations didn’t surprise Brooke as much as she would have expected. The voice was quieter now, as if it had expended a lot of energy.
~The girl will serve now, Brooke.~
~What did you do to her?~ Brooke was too drained from her recent experience to feel anger, no matter how deserved it was.
~WE gave her a new purpose in life.~
~What purpose?~ The question came from habit more than curiosity.
~Yours. Mine. Now hers as well. To serve the Master.~
~I don’t have a master. Who is it supposed to be?~
~I don’t know. I only became fully awake while you were changed into a succubus. But, when next we see the Master, we will recognize him… or her.~
~Er, right.~ Brooke didn’t believe the voice, but it sounded so matter-of-fact that it was clearly pointless to say so. ~So what do we do with Anna?~
~Leave her. There are other girls coming, yes? Then she will be of more use here.~
Brooke was free from the voice’s power but she was still very much a young girl. She didn’t know what to do so she simply followed the voice’s suggestions. She put her normal clothes back on and left the changing room. Brooke tilted her head, as if to better hear the voice. She walked down the sidewalk that led away from the pool without a backwards glance.
Anna woke up when someone touched her shoulder. It was one of the other girls from the swim team, wanting to know why she was lying naked on the floor. Anna stood up on weak legs. Still a little detached, she took note of her webbed hands, smiling slightly as a vague memory of pleasure rose in her mind. The other girl was still waiting for an answer and now more of her teammates were filing into the changing room. A quiet voice had begun whispering inside her head and Anna, cocking her head to listen, looked at the girl in front of her with renewed interest. Anna smiled sweetly and her eyes turned red.