Beatrice felt stares sticking to her bare skin as she entered the classroom. Not that it was a surprise: her dress had earned plenty of unwanted attention throughout the day. She supposed that was her "Master's" intent. He'd vetoed all the other outfits she'd texted him that morning, whittling her options down to a strapless, lavender dress and the black heels she was currently tottering towards her desk on. Despite her best efforts, she stumbled a little as she reached her chair, a flush of embarrassment burning across her features. How far would it travel, she wondered? Would it stop at her cheeks, or trickle down to the exposed flesh below? Would it stain her naked shoulders and tightly packed bust, marking her body with bright red shame?
Beatrice sat and crossed her thighs, willing her racing heart to slow. She cast a glance in Levi's direction, and found her eyes meeting his. He turned back to his notebook, a devilish smirk tweaking his lips. The smug bastard. Didn't he realize how strange it was for her to be wearing such a formal outfit to school? Did he care? Or were her exposed legs and jiggling cleavage his only goals?
Either way, he seemed rather happy with the spectacle. As did every other gaggle of boys she'd had the misfortune to encounter. Was this what Levi meant by making her feel like "an object of desire?" Could he sense when she was dodging catcalls in the halls, or muttering excuses to skeptical teachers? He'd said that lust was his main source of energy, but it wasn't like struggling to walk was making Beatrice particularly lustful. It just made her feel...hot and...weird and...it made class difficult to concentrate on.
Which was why it took Beatrice a moment to realize their teacher was staring due not to her clothing, but her lack of response.
"S-sorry," she stammered, brushing her hair back and recomposing herself. "I...didn't quite catch the question?"
Mr. Werner frowned, the wrinkles on his tired face deepening. "I asked if you were ready to present, Ms. Fontaine."
Shit. Her poetry assignment. After everything that'd happened this week, her homework had completely escaped her. "Um..." she put on an abashed smile and her best puppy-dog eyes. "Is there any way I can get an extension? It's almost done, I swear, but with my mom's campaign and swim practice, it just kinda..."
Mr. Werner sighed. "I'll give you one more day. But this is your last warning. If the work isn't done and done well, there's a weekend study hour in your future."
"Right." Beatrice's expression brightened even as she groaned inside. "I understand. Thank you."
Mr. Werner nodded and moved on. Beatrice allowed herself a tiny sigh of relief, but the feeling didn't last long. No sooner had the next student started presenting then the shadow of the demon's gaze fell upon her neck. She stiffened, and chanced a look back.
Levi's expression was neutral. But his displeasure was unmistakable.
Beatrice silently cursed as she faced forward again. What was his problem? Didn't he realize it was his fault that she'd been so distracted lately? And why did he even care? It wasn't like getting good grades was gonna make her hornier. If he was hoping to train her to get off on schoolwork, he had a hell of an uphill battle coming.
Not that she'd try to stop him. Whatever instruction he planned on giving her, it'd surely be preferable to another round of punishment. Yesterday's "lesson" had made that much clear. Even now, the memory of her spanking sent shivers beneath her dress, racing over her crest and the faint markings lingering on her ass. Those would fade eventually, but she doubted she would ever forget them. Never in her life had she come so hard and so frequently. And to think it came at the hands of Levi Ehrlich...to think that his willowy body had somehow forced hers into submission...to think of how he'd stripped her of her senses and dignity, how he'd lavished her with praise, reproach, pain, and pleasure, to the point where their differences ceased...it was enough to make her...make her...
The bell chimed. Beatrice blinked. Class was apparently over.
And the demon was waiting by the door.
Beatrice huffed, but kept her voice low as she followed him into the halls. "What do you want now?" she asked. "Don't tell me servants are expected to get straight A's now."
"Not exactly," Levi answered. "But they shouldn't be stuck in detention when their Master calls either. We must work to avoid that."
"Meaning you don't trust me to do this on my own."
"Given your usual work ethic? Absolutely not." He checked his phone. "You have swim practice this afternoon, yes? We'll meet at your house afterwards."
"
My
house?" Beatrice repeated. "Why? What's wrong with your place?"
"Nothing," Levi shot back, a little too quickly. "It's...simply a change of scenery. That's all."
Huh. That wasn't the response Beatrice was expecting. She made note of it, but decided not to press the issue. "Alright," she conceded. "My place it is. But I dunno when my parents are gonna show up, so..."
"That's fine," Levi gave a curt nod. "Just...don't make things difficult, okay?"
"Sure," Beatrice replied, suppressing a grin. She turned away as Levi departed, hoping he wouldn't sense how pleased she was. The line about her parents was a total bluff, but a useful one. So long as she didn't lean on it too hard, the threat of their return should limit Levi's pervy options. And the fact that Beatrice would be playing on her home turf meant she could put some of her preparations to good use.
As she rounded a corner, she drew her phone from her bag, reviewing the list of exorcism methods she'd researched overnight. Most of them weren't feasible, of course, especially given her limited resources and time. She would have to be super careful with their deployment as well. If Levi suspected what she was up to, it wasn't hard to imagine his response.
Still, it was worth a shot. She knew resisting Levi's power was a fool's game. But that didn't mean she was out of plays just yet.
____________________________________
Beatrice felt like an idiot.
She tried to get into the mood, imagining lengthening shadows and suspenseful music as she took measured steps around her home. That was how these scenes always played out in movies, right? The heroine preparing for the battle ahead, laying mystical traps and defenses with careful precision, conquering her fears and steeling her faith in the face of looming evil.
Beatrice tossed another handful of table salt over the carpet. A car passed outside with its radio too loud. As exorcisms went, this one was hardly a box office smash. If anything, it was giving Beatrice the vague impression that she was somehow pranking herself.
Though there was still a chance she would have the last laugh.
She consulted her phone again, repeating the chant on her screen as she stepped into the kitchen. The salt would be harder to hide on the tile, but if she spread it thin enough maybe it wouldn't matter. The instructions were a little unclear on that point.
A familiar engine rumbled outside. Beatrice dashed the salt she was holding across the floor, and hurried through the chant's final lines, completing a magic circle with her steps before rushing to the front door. By the time the bell rang, the spell was complete. The snare had been set.
