He woke up in a daze, the demon's magic was absent from his mind. The warmth of her magic was gone, anyways. His heavy lids opened with protest, and he adjusted to his surroundings. He was still in the cottage, but the demon was nowhere to be found. He was covered up in a cot, a blanket thrown over his nude body. The demon hadn't even been decent enough to clothe him before she left him covered in shame. Disgust flowed through him as he pushed the covers aside and stood up from the bed.
It was as cold inside the cottage as it was outside. Maybe the coldness he felt inside was just the temperature. He doubted it though. A quick sweep around the room let him know that there were no clothing items around, just pristine furniture randomly placed to make the cottage feel more like a home than a sex den. It was becoming painfully clear to him that the demon did not want him to be clothed in her home. Better to access his mind and body if he had to make a guess.
He still had visions in his head of the raven-haired beauty mounting him and slowly undulating her hips on him. He knew deep in his gut that this was not the demon that took him the night prior, but for some reason he could not remember what the demon looked like. She had done things to him that he had never even thought of before. She made him feel things that weren't entirely human, or at least he didn't think they were. He wouldn't know. He had never given in to his carnal pleasures before. Sure, he was human, and he was male. He had seen himself react to the presence of a female. He had just never acted on it before. Never gave in to his body's craving to be touched.
Now he wanted this filthy demon again, but she had left him naked and alone. His body wanted her; his mind abhorred her. Problem was, he had no idea who she was. The last thing he remembered about another person the night before was laying in the lap of the sweet parishioner at his church and screaming his release in her arms. After that, the visions were all of the faceless raven-haired woman. He knew she had taken him, mind, body, and soul. She claimed him. He was dirty now.
Slowly, he stepped out of the room and into the main area of the cottage. He was sure he was alone but didn't want to take any chances. He was still painfully nude. What if the demon had brought back the girl as well? He hoped he hadn't done anything untoward to her. He scanned the room for the sign of any clothing. He saw ripped clothes on the floor, along with a red sexy dress. He sighed in disappointment and walked over to them. The shirt was ruined, but the pants would still button up. He slid them on quickly and sat down on the couch in front of the clothing.
He sat there for what seemed like forever before the cottage doors open. He perked up to see who his captor was, eyes wide with shock when he saw the innocent parishioner who had held him the day before. Lily? She smiled at him shyly, heat running up into her cheeks. She walked into the cottage, a basket of food in her hands. Had this dress on the floor belonged to her? Couldn't be.
"Good morning, Father. How are you this morning? You slept quite a while last night." She said, thrusting the basket of food towards him. He reached out and took it cautiously. There was no way this girl was his demon.
"What happened, Lily?" He asked. He was afraid to hear the answer. The fire continued to burn on her face, and she angled to sit down in the chair across from him.
"The demon got you, Father. I tried to get you away from it, from the church, but it must have followed us back here. I brought you here, outside the village, so they wouldn't see you possessed by it. I don't know if they saw you, though. I'm sorry." She said, a forlorn look on her face.
"What else happened?" he knew she didn't say everything. She was holding something back from him. He wasn't sure if it was out of embarrassment or not. But he knew his body had known a woman the night before.
"Father, I shouldn't speak of such things." She said quietly. She dropped her gaze to the discarded dress and his tattered shirt. Her hand went to her neck where she clutched her dress shut. "I think the demon got me, too." She said weakly.
"What are you talking about, Lily?" He said softly. Dread washed through him. Had he slept with this girl?
"Well. I brought you here after the church, as I said. You were okay walking through the town, but you looked a fright. As I said, I got you here as quickly as I could. When we got here, we were okay for a time. Then the same look came over you that you had in the church. Like you couldn't control your passion." The girl was looking down at her feet as she spoke to him. "I sent you to the back to wash up. I figured that would make you feel better. My father stays here from time to time, so I had a spare change of clothes for you. When you came back out, the demon had taken control of me," She gestured to the red dress on the floor.
"Lily..." He said, "Please don't tell me..."
"I couldn't stop myself, Father. I'm so sorry." He heard the anguish in her voice. Filthy demon. What had it done to this girl? "I told you in the church that I had felt the lust. I think I brought it to you. Father, I've never known a man before. Am I ruined now? Did the demon ruin us?" tears peppered her cheeks as she met his gaze.
Luke didn't know how to react. The girl was sitting in front of him, grief stricken. He had half a mind to pull her close to him, comfort her fears, but he was half naked in front of her.
He
had taken the poor girl's innocence. Was he even deserving of the title Father when he fell so easily to a demon's wiles? This girl looked inconsolable.
"I just wanted to help you in the church, I couldn't leave you there for anyone to find. It was so private a moment, I'm sorry." She added.
He mulled over what his response to her would be. There was nothing that he could say, really. He was supposed to be a member of the clergy, not her sex education. Not when he didn't even have one of his own. But he had given the girl a full show last night, apparently, complete with stealing her innocence from her. He decided to just be honest. He may not remember taking her body as his own, but he did remember what happened in the church.
"Lily, I don't know what to say." He stared at the floor as he spoke, clearly disgusted with himself. The cool air of the cottage bit at his bare chest. He would do anything to be covered up. "I do not remember what happened last night, past the church. I'm sorry you had to witness that. I'm sorry I was too weak to shield you from myself."
It was the truth, clipped and quaint. He buried his face in his hands for a moment. This had to be a nightmare. He knew deep in his heart that it wasn't. He heard Lily stand up from her seat. She walked quietly over to him and crouched down. Her hands wrapped around his tenderly, but the feel of her skin against his made him sick to his stomach. Not that she was repulsive, no it was because he knew he had defiled her. Why would she want to comfort him after that?
"Look at me, Father." She said tenderly while trying to pry his hands away from his face. He wanted to do anything but. This shame would hang over his head for as long as he lived. He almost yearned for the demon magic's warmth. He reluctantly dropped his hands into hers, but his face remained downcast. He deserved to be marched into the town square, defrocked, and flogged. "Father, please, look at me," She pleaded.
"I can't," He said, defeated. "I don't deserve to. I took something from you that I can't give back to you."
"It was the demon that did it, not you." She said, "She used your body as a vessel for her benefit, right? I'm not afraid of you, Father. I'm afraid of what will happen if she comes back."
Lily spun a fragmented tale for her virgin Father. She had been shocked when he woke the next morning, most humans didn't survive a demon marking their soul. It was curious indeed. His memories had been fragmented when he woke initially. He didn't remember anything of their relations, or her identity. She used it to her advantage, playing the role of innocent victim. She had once again adorned her modest clothes of the villagers. It was maddeningly stifling in the garb.
"How can you even look at me after what you saw?" He asked. His mind had fractured during her play. She wasn't sure what to make of that, he was repeating the same sentiment over and over. She also didn't know how an innocent villager would respond to that. Truth was, she loved everything she saw the night before. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his body as he touched himself. As he lowered his body to hers and took her as his own. Small bits of her magic flared out as she recalled the memory. She could tell by his reaction that he had felt it, his muscles tensed under hers. She let her expression tense into one of fear as his eyes shot up. Unceremoniously, he shoved her away from him, as if her presence offended him. He recoiled and shrank into himself, and his action had shocked her enough that it knocked her flat on her ass, staring back up at him in bewilderment. "Get back!" he hissed.
"What's wrong?" she stayed put where she was, unsure if he would lash out again. She couldn't hide her strength if he tried again. She wouldn't be pushed around by a human, especially not by a frightened one. Or one that she wanted to fuck so badly. She let her magic out, this time on purpose, to try to subdue him. She wasn't trying to bring him to his knees or make him call out in pleasure. She just wanted to relax him, but the magic seemed to only infuriate him further.
What in the world?
"Show yourself, filthy demon!" he screamed into the middle of the room. His hand wondered to where his crucifix hung, one that she had removed and stored away. While it wouldn't hurt her, it did lessen her hold over him. He fumbled as his fingers caught air, she sensed his rage running through him. Lily stewed in her failure. Something with him changed.
She was a sort of outcast of her kind. Something about her magic ostracized her from her family and fellow demons. She could manipulate a man's lust, she could make him weak with his own desires, but he had to be consenting. The other demons could take whomever they wanted, she had to work harder for it. He must have steeled his mind to her. Instead of stoking his passion, she was fanning his rage. Was it because he didn't trust himself around the parishioner? He had given her explicit, eternal consent last night. Had her attempt at marking him gone awry? She looked at him quizzically.
"Father, will you help me up?" she outstretched her arm, reaching for his with a silent plea. Maybe contact was all she needed? He spun to look at her, where he splayed her on the ground at his feet. She saw the lust in his eyes, it just wasn't blinding him. His rage was visible over it. "Please." She thrust her hand to him again, trying to break his trance. Reluctantly, he reached out for her hand, clasping her dainty palm in his hand, and pulling her up. She used the contact to give a tentative burst to him. Not full blown, but enough to elicit some kind of response. His eyes darkened at the psychic assault, lust consuming him, but rage tickling at the edges. He didn't let go of her hand, instead surprising her and pulling her into his body. It was a protective stance.
