In Which An Elven Servant Ch 32

In Which an Elven Servant Suffers a Succubus to Live in Her Home

Chapter 32

I find myself doing a lot more laundry, lately. It's not that I need to, necessarily, though you could make the argument that Master's more frequent attention, from multiple women, does increase the frequency of stains upon clothing. And furniture. And carpets. And one oddly high spot on a wall, which I'm still trying to figure out. But aside from the increased liberation of fluids from multiple women - some of whom could stand to be more careful where they allowed said fluids to travel, though I'm not naming names - it hasn't been so much that it would really increase the number of loads of laundry I need to put through the wash in a given week.

Obviously, yes, some of those stains originate from Master, as well. But I still place blame on the girl that coaxed it out of him. One really should take responsibility when they make him cum, it's only proper. I consider not taking a human's seed into your body, in some way, to be disrespectful, but I'm a traditionalist like that. Not something I can blame on Lucy, though. For all her faults, she doesn't waste a drop. No, there's a certain feline who is a notorious semen-dodger, and could use a stern talking-to.

But I digress. It's not the amount of laundry that increases the frequency, but I suspect the nature of the machine itself. I'm almost certain of it. That would explain why I can seem to quite pull myself away from the corner of this dryer.

I suppose it's not something I can pretend I accidentally stumbled upon, what with the height of the dryer meaning that I had to drag over a step stool, so that I could align that corner between my legs. But it is sooo amazing. One of those things that didn't occur to me when I was in the belt, plus it nullified most vibrations, making enjoying this impossible. Now that I'm less restricted, and that Master has an active sex life, visible in the same room as my denied pussy on most days, there's so many little things around that I find tantalizing. And really, what's the harm in it? As long as I'm not cumming from it, it should be fine. Probably. Besides, even if it does get me in trouble, there's worse things than getting a spanking from a handsome human.

That... was a very 'Lucy' kind of thing to think. Which kind of disturbs me. Not enough that I'm going to stop grinding against this magnificent feat of human engineering. At least, not until I get to the edge. That wonderful, tormentful edge. It was Miss Clara that introduced the idea of edging to me. She said it would be could for Master. Getting right up to the point of orgasm, then backing off, would keep my pussy a desperate, sopping mess. Master should be able to smell my needy pussy all the time, she said, whether or not he realizes it. And this should make him extra aroused, and that that's what we need.

Not sure whether I love her more, or if I should be angry with her. Or, as angry as I could ever get at a human. It doesn't really matter, because I find myself doing it all the time. Not for nothing, this is why we wear these contraptions in the first place. If I was a less disciplined elf, I'd never get any work done. I can't tell if it's working how she wants, really. Master certainly has the means and drive to get his beautiful cock wet whenever he feels the need, now, even if it's not in my pussy. Or Lucy's, as Clara seems set on remedying.

He seems to be working on something else involving Lucy, if all those books he's spending time with, are any indication. He doesn't seem to pay much mind to her subtle attempts to push him in that direction, if he's aware at all. Clearly, he's got more in mind than just bending Lucy over and finally putting an end to this whole game. Whatever it is, he hasn't felt it necessary to share it with me.

"Lorelei, I need you upstairs. I'm in the, um, 'summoning' room," Master's voice suddenly crackles over the house intercom. With me lost in my own little world at the moment, it utterly terrifies me. And at the worst possible time, namely, when I'm right at the edge of an orgasm.

I jump in surprise, inadvertantly grinding even harder against the dryer, and almost going too far in the process. I gasp and clench my fingers against the metal, holding my hips still as I can, thighs quivering. I do my best to control my breath and calm down, my overstimulated pussy threatening to go off all on its own. The tension finally recedes, after what feels like an eternity, but is surely only a few seconds.

I sigh heavily in relief, and reach over to the intercom, "I'll be right there, Master."

That was close. Would an orgasm count as being 'caused by Master' if he did it by accidentally surprising me? I don't know, but it would be illicit, either way. Which makes it sound way more naughty when I phrase it like that. At least I think the surprise was accidental. He has an uncanny ability to always knows where I am in the house, though I don't think it extends to what I'm doing. I'd blame it on magic, but the phenomenon predates his most basic understanding of sorcery.

I wipe the corner of the dryer clean of... well, me. Then I repeat the process on my thighs. As much as I like Clara's idea that I should maintain a strong scent in Master's presence, to hopefully ensure that his cock gets delightfully hard whenever I'm around, it unfortunately also acts as a Lucy magnet. Her sense of smell is a lot sharper than his. At least when it comes to sexual fluids. Seriously, she can't tell when something in the kitchen is burning, but if I get moist or someone makes Master cum, she turns into a fucking shark.

We don't have a 'summoning room', really, so I go to the only place he could be referring to, the empty bedroom where we first summoned Lucy. It seems forever ago, now, but the room has hardly changed. The summoning circle was burned into the floor, a side effect of the spell, and it's still there. Master sits on the other side of the room, books and papers spread around him, including what I recognize as Yuri and Yuki's translations of the books in hellscript. The documents and books seem to be spread around a large and deliberately cleared spot, of suspiciously similar size and shape to the old summoning circle.

"There you are," he says, without looking up, "I'll be making another rune circle, here, but I need another pair of magic-proficient eyes to help put the runes down, as well as to, er, proof-read for me."

"You're not... summoning another demon, are you?" I ask, really hoping that's not the case.

"Oh no," he laughs, standing up and grabbing a large knife, "Nothing like that. One has been plenty."

That should make me more comfortable, but the knife just raises more questions, "It's not some sort of blood sacrifice, either, is it?"

He cocks his head to the side for a moment, before realizing what I'm referring to, "Oh! The knife! No, no, no. It's just for the circle. That's part of the reason I want you to double-check my work. There's a risk that paint or chalk could come loose during the ritual, so we'll need to carve it in place. Obviously, that means I can't erase it if I mess something up."

Carve?! He's going to carve into my nice wood floors?! Yes, they're technically his floors, but that's not the point. As the maid, I find this objectionable. I must have it written over my face because he snickers at me.

"Lorelei," he points behind me, "The floors in this room are a little fargone, already. I'll have to have them redone, anyways."

I look back at the old circle, scorched into the wood. He does have a point, but it just doesn't feel right.

"Master?" I ask, "What exactly is this spell for?"

Master gets quiet and sets the knife down on a table, before walking over to close the door behind him. He approaches me and places his hands on my shoulders.

"Lorelei, I intend to sever Lucy's connection to hell," he says, in a quiet, but serious tone.

My ears perk in surprise, "Can... you do that?"

"Sure I can... well, that is to say, it is physically possible," he explains, "The spell seems solid, but, it's going to be somewhat demanding. Both mentally and physically. But I have some tricks up my sleeve that I think will ensure success."

"I take it Lucy doesn't know about this?" I ask, stating the fairly obvious, given his behavior, "How do you think she'll react?"

"Hard to say. Despite it being their home, demons tend to not really like hell that much. On account of it being hell, you know?" he glances back at the door, biting his lip, "But that connection has some level of power over them, which could result in some resistance on her part."

"So this will... change her?" I ask him, "You've kind of gone beyond my level of understanding on these things. What does severing this connection actually mean, in practice?"

"As it stands, Lucy is magically..." he moves his hands about, trying to find the right wording, "'tethered' to hell, if you will. And by association, whichever arch-demon is in power this week, in whatever particular part of hell she's from, or bound to."

"This week?" I ask.

"Yes, everything I've read, that's to be even vaugely trusted, doesn't paint hell as a bastion of organization, stability, or loyalty. Go figure," he shrugs, "Whatever power that demons and arch-demons wield over any give part of hell, and their fellow fiends therein, is in constant flux. In no small part thanks to their inability to really die. So old enemies can't really be removed in any permanent way. The best they can do is usually to dismember them sufficiently and lock them away or scatter them over a wide area. They'll still be alive - and entirely conscious of their state of being - but unable to reassemble themselves."

My eyes widen as he describes the politics of hell, "That is... horrifying, Master."

"Yes, well, once again, this is literally hell we're talking about, Lorelei," he reminds me.

I nod, trying to put it out of my mind. It's hard to imagine this is really where Lucy is from.

"Anyways, what was I getting at?" he asks.

"Lucy being tethered to hell?" I remind him.

"Right!" he holds up his index finger, "So, unlike in hell, demons can very much 'die' in our world, in a manner of speaking. That is to say, if their form in this world is destroyed, or if they're exorcised, or they break the right stipulation in a contract, they'll be pulled back to hell. They're a bit like medieval serfs in this regard, their masters in hell might change with the seasons - not that they likely have seasons in hell, but you get what I mean - but they remain bound to hell itself."

"But aren't -you- her master, um, Master?" I don't like the idea of someone serving Master not really belonging to him.

"Yes and no," he exhales, "And that's exactly what I mean to change. See, they ostensibly still answer to their arch-demon, but by said arch-demon allowing them to be summoned to Earth, they're relinquishing control, at least in our world. I'm her master on Earth, but her presence here is ephemeral."

"Arch-demons relinquish control?" I cock an eyebrow, "That doesn't seem very arch-demon-y."

"Well, like I said, it mostly just applies to what they do on Earth," he explains, "But they allow it because it's in their interests to get demons into our world. They fight each other a lot, but what they want in regards to us is essentially the same. A demon in the hands of the wrong human can easily lead them into all sorts of sin, degeneracy, and even opening up portals to let demons in freely."

Something about that doesn't sit right, "Wait, so Lucy is supposed to be tempting us?"

"She is a literal temptress, Lorelei," he says, deadpan.

"I know, but it doesn't seems like..." I kind of trail off.

He throws up his hands, "Infernal work ethic. What can I say?"

"So if you complete this spell... she'll no longer be under the sway of these arch-demons?" I try to see if I'm getting this right.

"Correct!" he pats my head, which makes me happier than I'll admit out loud, "She'll no longer be a demon of hell, in the strictest sense. She'll instead be tethered to me, specifically. If something were to happen to her physical form, she'd be pulled back to me, though incorporeal - I'd have to reconstitute her body, but that wouldn't be very hard. I'd also have more direct control over her, not requiring spells and contracts to regulate what she's able to do."

Bound to Master beyond death, I admit it makes me a little jealous. And nervous, now that I think about what he said earlier.

"You said it would be mentally and physicall demanding? This isn't... risky, is it?" I bite my lip.

"It is," he sighs, seeing my concern, "Hell does not easily give up its own. The ritual requires me to essentially 'pacify' the demon, to assert control, which puts me in a rather direct connection with hell, itself."

"Pacify her? How do-"

He clears his throat, "In a means tied to the nature of the demon. She's a succubus, Lorelei."

"Oh," I nod, then actually realize what he means, "OH!"

"When I'm in the act, infernal energy will come directly into contact with me," he takes on a serious tone, "If I'm not strong enough, it will corrupt me."

My mouth opens and my ears droop, "Master, this isn't a good idea," is all I manage to say.

"I have an ace up my sleeve, Lorelei," he gives grim smile, "I wouldn't attempt this if I didn't. I've found spells that will allow me to redirect that infernal energy into something I can use to my benefit, to make her properly submit to my will."

"On top of that," he continues, "We aren't doing this alone. I'm bringing in some of our friends for the ritual. Having more people present, that have positive social bonds with me, will strengthen my resistance to hell's influence. Plus, I need someone to hold her in place. Once hell knows what I'm trying to do, it will flood her with its energy, to try and force her to resist, whether she wants to, or not."

I swallow and nod. I'm not entirely sure of all this, but Master seems confident enough. And he needs a loyal elf more than ever, right now.

"These supplementary spells will require runes painted directly on my skin," he informs me, "So I'll need your help with that, too."

The circle is a lot more complex than the one we needed to summon Lucy in the first place. I suppose it makes some sense; if it's based on manipulating hell's energy, then they would make it easier for spells to serve their goals, like getting demons summoned to Earth, and harder to do stuff like what Master is trying to do. Then again, I'm basing this on the assumption that they put organized effort into it, and that hell has some sort of magical equivalent of an IT department. Based on what Master says about their society, and what I've observed in Lucy, that actually seems sort of unlikely. So maybe it's just plain more complicated.

The spell itself is certainly getting out of my area of understanding. Master asked me to check his work, and I do my best to check the basics and confirm that he hasn't made any obvious mistakes, but a lot of this is getting beyond me. Elves are inherently magical; we're not inherently -good- at magic. Big difference.

Part of the problem is that some of this gets a little... mathy. I mean, it's not string theory or anything. I think. Though it does involve multiple dimensions, so maybe? Sort of? The math itself isn't on that level, though, which is my point. This is kind of the benefit of magic, though, it lets you circumvent a lot of things that would require a more substantional understanding of math and engineering, were you to try to accomplish the same things through mundane means. However, when you get into more advanced magic, relying on it as a handicap for understanding becomes less possible.

What Master is doing would still be far more complex, if attempted without magic, but it's still getting out of the realm of what you can expect the average elf to easily grasp. We don't like to admit it to the lesser races (read: everyone but humans), but we tend to not be great with a lot of the maths and related sciences. Asking an elf to do algebra would be like asking more than three dwarves to agree on anything, or accomplish anything worthwhile together. At least if they haven't been paid to do so. It's kind of astonishing that we ever considered them competition, before humans became dominant. Silly, stupid dwarves.

Master does most of the carving, thankfully. Damaging the floor like this still goes against my principles. Once the floor is marked properly, he begins the task of cutting into the wood. I expect it to be slow and arduous, but it actually goes a lot faster than I expect. Most of the cuts don't really need to be that wide or deep, he explains.

Then, satisfied with his work, he stands and promptly pulls his shirt off. And starts unbuckling his pants.

"...Master?" I ask, a little meekly from where I kneel.

"What, you didn't think all the runes were going to on my arms or face, did you?" he responds.

"Oh! Oh, right," I reply, having momentarily forgotten about the spell he wants me to paint. On his skin.

"You have a good steady hand, so it shouldn't be hard," he drops his pants and smiles at me, "All the ones you have to paint on my cock might be a little tricky, though."

My eyes turn to dinner plates, and a long moment passes before I barely make a coherent response, "They go on your...?"

He just stares at me for a moment, "That was a joke, Lorelei."

"Right!" I exclaim, and nervously laugh, pretending I knew that.

"For real, though, there's some that go on my inner thighs, so the angle might be a little difficult," he explains, as he casually drops his underwear to the floor, leaving his big human cock nearly looming over me.

You don't really piece together exactly how familiar you've become with another person's body, until you're required to paint magic sigils all over their skin so that they can fuck a sex demon into submission. It's not something that I've thought much about when I've bathed him, or done... other stuff. It's a little lewd to consider how well I know every inch of Master's skin. I suppose if he was ever replaced by some doppleganger, there would be no getting it past me. I doubt they could copy every freckle and stray hair to my satisfaction.

I wonder if we'll reach a point that he'll be as intimately familiar with me as I am with him. Not that I would expect him to. He does possess significant attention to detail, though.

I keep worrying that the paint will tickle too much, but he doesn't seem to mind. Even when I go over them with a clear sealer, to keep the paint from smudging, he doesn't react much. I'm tempted to paint more of the sealer over his skin; I like how it makes him shiny. But I restrain myself.

"Your back's done, Master, you can-" I start, but he changes position before I finish, turning to lay on his back, in the middle of the circle. And of course, very, very nude.

"You're blushing a little, Lorelei," he teases me. Master is being a little mean today.

"It's an oddly intimate thing, painting a person's body," I remark, as I counsult the notes and begin to copy the lines onto his chest.

"Are you implying there's something, dare I say, lewd, about drawing runes on my naked body?" he responds, "Your mind is going into the gutter, Lorelei. And here I thought I had a proper, respectable elf."

I smirk at him, "Your attempts to frazzle me will be fruitless, Master. I am professional in my duties."

"Let's put aside that I can think of several specific exceptions to your professionalism, and you behaving like a lewd, little horny elf," he says, which is true, but he doesn't have to be so blunt about it, "If I were to ask you to put down the brush and apply the runes with your fingers instead, would that be all right?"