Read Your Contracts 02.2

*contains: mild incest, anal stimulation, non-consensual elements*

"Is that how you've been measuring flour?" Laura said.

Memirellin held the measuring cup she'd just finished packing.

The teacher was busy helping someone else, so Laura popped the cup on the bottom to return its contents to the bag.

"That's why everything is coming out so dense, hun, you have to sprinkle it into the cup with a spoon, then use a knife to scrape off the mound. Keeps it aerated."

Memi bit her lip. If she'd known the teacher would be this disinterested in the class, she would have simply asked Laura to her own kitchen for a lesson. Maybe homemade pasta had been a high bar to clear for someone who still hadn't made a decent pot of the dried stuff.

It was worth it, though, to see Laura in an apron. The girl was the very image of human loveliness: curvaceous, bright-eyed, and bearing a lovely, natural tan. Memirellin's newfound appreciation of mortal beauty made it feel like a matter of course that Laura's father had appreciated those same traits.

And compared to her, Memi couldn't help feeling too small, too pale. Her ineptitude in household chores was just another deficiency to toss atop the pile.

"It says to put in one cup of flour," Memi said. "Why would they write that down if they wanted you to put a lot of air into it? So you tamp it down until it's actually a cup of flour. Or did the writer not care about being accurate?"

Laura laughed behind her hand. "It's not inaccurate, hun. This is one of those times where any decent baker will know what he's referring to. Trust me, the flour needs to be loose like that or our dough will be way too dense."

"Of course I trust you, it's the rest of these humans I don't trust." Memi took up the cup again and measured her flour loosely in the way Laura had described. "If I were writing a recipe, I wouldn't leave out important details like how much flour to actually use."

"By the way, how did those cookies come out?" Laura asked.

"Harry liked the last batch... it turns out there is a difference between the oven and the convection oven. And they came out really floppy at first, but they got stiff as they cooled. Thanks for your help, you're the only person I knew to ask."

"You were cooking them until they were hard? And why not ask Harry? He might be a guy, but he seems decent enough, must be able to cook."

Laura began mixing ingredients, getting her hands dirty with the sticky dough.

Only able to watch and learn, Memi took a good look at the other students, mostly couples. The novelty of an albino in class had worn off in the weeks since she and Laura had signed up and Memi was more than fine without a dozen human eyes to witness her inability. She had to remind herself that, like Harry and Laura, there were likely some decent humans out there.

The teacher made her way around to their table in time to nod at Laura's skill and leave again without doing a bit of actual teaching.

Memi said, "What kind of familiar leans on their master like that? I would call up one of my mother's chefs, but they would only know recipes for semen."

This was enough to turn the teacher's head, still in earshot.

"You do eat normal food, though..." Laura said.

The dough had formed and Memi took it to knead, at least understanding that much.

"I eat human food, yes. Semen isn't as necessary as humans believe. I don't know how your people got the idea that mine rely on 'sexual energy', whatever that is. Of course you would feel drained after being drained, it's exertion."

Again, Laura laughed, wiping goopy fingers against her apron. "I suppose I shouldn't be worried about Harry's health?"

Memi growled at the thought. "Anyone who threatens my master... no, you need not worry." She hugged her friend, rubbed her cheek against those warm, pillowy breasts to calm herself. "I do thank you for your concern."

They ran their dough through the pasta roller. The rest of the class had already begun on their sauces.

"Laura, could I ask for some advice?" Memi took to cleaning and cutting tomatoes. "I'm not sure Harry still loves me..."

"What!? What makes you think that? Last time we talked, he had nothing but good things to say..."

"I mean... there was this thing a few weeks ago. We only have sex a couple of times a day."

Laura wrapped her arms around Memi's belly and rocked her. "Hun, you have no idea how much you're bragging, do you? What happened?"

---

Harry was, once again, working at his desk on schoolwork while Memirellin entertained herself mere feet away on his bed. It had been easy enough to divert his attention with a coy look, but the boy had been more distant lately. With her pajama top unbuttoned to show off cleavage down to her navel and her delicate, pink panties, it felt odd that he could keep his eyes on the page. Was he already getting tired of her?

The bed was a comfort, smelling of them both even when its sheets were freshly washed. Memi's wiggling from one position to another puffed up scents that would never come out of the bedspread, sweat, soap, and perfumed shampoo. As she read from Harry's extensive collection, she was able to keep her mind off what he might be thinking. But looking over to him, hunched over his desk and ignoring her, pained her chest.

She thought she might start working on dinner, but frozen dinners only took so long to microwave and she didn't feel confident in trying anything new while Harry was there to witness her process. The only remaining option was scrambled eggs. She'd already had a shower and it would seem odd to take another just for the purpose of killing time. Then there was the television, which would require her to move away from Harry...

No matter how uncomfortable it felt to be in the presence of a disinterested lover, Memi would sooner kneel at his side and wait than lose sight of him.

He set his pencil down. "Memi, can I ask you something?"

"Yes!" She perked up her pointed ears and sat at attention on the bed. Her tail wagged behind her uncontrollably with excitement, whapping the wall. "I mean, master, I am mildly offended that you feel the need to ask."

Harry paused, he hadn't looked her way yet. "Sorry. Satilli was a man, right?"

"An incubus, yes." she said.

"So he had a dick?"

Memi had to think for a moment to suss out the meaning of the question. "Yes. Though, as I understand it, his is quite tiny."

"And Meliza had a dick too, right?"

"Quite often, yes." Memi said, suppressing a shudder at the memory of that three-foot, flared, blue cock.

Harry finally looked her way and Memi steeled her expression to avoid looking too pleased.

"Is Meliza a guy?" he said.

"Not at all, though she prefers to have sex from the male perspective."

"And I think I remember you telling me about what you did to Laura's dad... you have a dick too?" he said, hanging his head in thought.

Memi shifted uncomfortably on her knees. She had no clue why these things would bother him.

"I made one for myself with magic... Master, are you alright?"

He rubbed his temple and sighed. "I'm realizing how close I came to being forced to suck a cock. Good thing I avoided all of those word traps, right?"

There was a touch of sadness in his voice and Memirellin wanted so much to comfort him, but knew that sudden motion might scare him and restrained herself. Things should be easy now, they should be inseparable in their love nest, and they had been for the first few days. Harry had been preoccupied with other things more and more, accelerated after his days with Satilli. Now Memi could only count on two or three blissful diversions each day, teasing and goading each waking hour to obtain those.

For this conversation, she felt some tact was required, so Memi buttoned herself up to the collar. "Master, I am sorry to say that he was going very easy on you. My mother would tell him to try in order to punish you for imprudence, as is common to most demons. Had you fallen for it, each of us would consider it a cheap lesson in speaking correctly. The same is true of the contract's other provisions. Had you read and understood it in full, you could have fully escaped humiliation."

"I think I might be too trusting..." Harry said.

Memi closed her eyes and smiled, amused that he was only now understanding this. "Master," she said, "Were I in Satilli's position, with the same temperament I once possessed, I would have no problem taking whatever I liked from you. I admit fault in drafting the contract in a way that exposed you to that danger, but you should know better by now."

"Like Laura's father? That's what you did to him, right?"

That hurt. Anger welled up in response, but Memi caught it, hopefully before he noticed.

"He earned his punishment fairly." she said. "I told you how he wanted to fuck my ass while taking the form of his daughter, that I only promised him anal sex without mention of whose ass would be taken. That was the end of my punishment, his current state as her pig is the result of her outrage." Sadness crept at the edge of her mood and her nose began stuffing up with incipient tears. She stoked her anger to maintain composure.

"We really rushed into this relationship, didn't we?" he said. "I trusted you to write that agreement for me, but you didn't think it would matter that Satilli was a man... I might have still agreed to it, since I was doing that for you. I feel like I don't know anything about you anymore..."

Tears fell despite Memi's concerted effort and she turned to face the wall to avoid Harry's seeing them.

Memi said, "Have I presented any face to you that wasn't that of a devil? Remember that you were the one who summoned me... if you wanted some human sow, you could have left me in that pit!" She was trembling, choking on her words by the end, cheeks burning and streaked with tears.

Cold, silent air separated her from her master. Her effort trained to pushing away thoughts of what Harry was doing behind her. This much difficulty from one mistake... tears welled fresh as she wondered what she would do wrong next.

She heard his steps behind her, felt his heat. So, she would be punished for her failure? Fine, if that would rid her of uncertainty, she would gladly submit herself for a flogging. Pain was understandable, she deserved it for her failure to consider her master's needs.

If it would improve his mood, Memirellin would accept a beating.

But a beating didn't come. Harry wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest while she choked down heartache. It was confusing, but she eventually let herself be soothed. She felt his breath on the back of her neck.

"I'm sorry." He sounded like he was getting ready to cry himself. "It was only a week before we got together. I felt like I knew a lot about you, but I never left that building. I never actually engaged with your culture."

Memi trembled in his arms. "I set you free. You could have been free, but you brought me up. I was so happy I could hardly stand it." She turned and buried her face in his chest, wiping herself clean against his shirt.

Harry petted her hair, stroked her back while her whimpering petered out. She felt like a fool, pathetically bawling with the comfort of a master too kind to properly discipline her. There was no way the man could have survived in hell, too quick to trust. He should have let her send him away, and she should have refused to become his familiar.

That would have been worth it all, condemning herself to a life without him in hell to ensure her love's freedom. But he had swept her off her feet.

She unbuttoned and shuffled out of her pajama top, her breast bare against Harry's. Her tail wagged against her will as she became excited, left with nothing but her lacy, pink panties.

Harry laughed quietly. "You want to do that after all this?"

"I want to be closer." Memi whispered, tugging at the hem of his shirt until they had to stop hugging for her to pull it over his head. Then she laid a kiss on his bare chest and wrapped her arms around him, twining her fingers behind his back. "Don't you want to touch me? Please? I can't hold back much longer." She burned for him, thinking there was no way he could miss how her heart throbbed against his chest. It felt something like their first time, when she had snuck up on him in the middle of the night to attack him, ending up tamed instead.

He wasn't especially heavy with muscle, the way Memi had been told humans liked their men, but Memi loved him as he was. She had no idea what her lover might do with increased strength and it seemed to hand him no difficulties to be so weak. This paradise the humans created on earth was one that allowed a kind, patient being like him live long enough to meet her.

"You're sure?" he asked again.

Memi answered by wriggling out of her panties and tossing them aside, wrapping her legs about his waist. This time, his dick got the point.

While Harry's will was still pliable, Memi pulled him with all her weight to flip him into bed, his legs dangling over the side, and she took her place between his legs. She pulled his pants and underwear down to his ankles with trembling fingers, somehow feeling more nervous this time than any of the dozens of times they had slept together.

His glorious cock rose into her face as she rested her cheek on his thigh. The scent of it was intoxicating, his soap's minty warmth mingled with his and her sweat. She could tell at a sniff that this was her property, soaked in her wetness time and time again. Satilli's single day of debauchery had done nothing to erase Memi's bond.

In a fit of whimsy, Memi nuzzled it, letting the shaft flop across her face. Heat and pressure built in her belly, flowing down between her legs. The arousal heated her breath like a thrumming billows inside her. She hardly noticed when she let her tongue out to lap at Harry's balls, but his gasp, the tightening of his legs, let her know he also felt it.

While she licked, bouncing and suckling his balls, she drew ticklish circles on his legs with her fingertips. His shaft, the head remained untouched excepting the way it bumped against her face. Memi paid no attention to the wetness spreading from her loins, beginning to drip down her thigh; her master's satisfaction was all that mattered in the world at that moment.

She felt his hand on her head and expected to be pulled onto his throbbing cock, throat impaled on that hot, firm meat. But Harry petted her while she licked. Of course, she thought, he wasn't a demon; he wasn't even as bad as most humans. The glimmer of shame for thinking he would hurt her like that was washed clean away by the happiness of knowing her master approved of her actions.

With her master's cock enraged, Memi finally brought it down to her lips, popping the head between them to swirl around with her tongue. After such prolonged foreplay, he readily produced a dribble of precum. The sensation was a little too much for him, obvious in the way he tightened up, squirming in his seat on the bed. He didn't want to end this too early by blowing a load at the first real stimulation, though Memi wouldn't have minded.

Wrapping one hand around his penis, Memi slowly stroked as she licked, using her own saliva for lube. Harry moaned above her, holding his breath to hold back his sense of pleasure. And Memi's arousal met his, the tingling between her legs becoming too much to ignore. She reached down to rub herself, breathing more heavily with her arousal, taking in that much more of her master's scent.

Was he still hung up on Satilli, how the incubus' tongue felt on his cock? Memi intended to wipe his memory clean of the event so he would only think back on it as a funny story. Her master's heartbeat throbbing against her tongue, his firmness pressing against her cheek emboldened her to gaze up into his kind eyes.

Hot pride spread from her chest, recognizing the face of pleasure, to rest between her legs, more fuel to an already raging fire in her loins. She wanted to feel him inside her, stirring her up, but she resisted. It was too soon for her to think of her own indulgence; Harry's hot dick in her mouth was already too much of a treat for her.

Memi felt the beginnings of orgasm leaking out onto her tongue, lapped it up greedily. She slackened her pace, removing her hand from the wetness between her thighs to lovingly cup her master's balls. Harry's leg twitched as he was forced to withdraw from his building ejaculation.

She pulled herself off his cock and cuddled it against her cheek, wetting her face with her own saliva, and kissed the tip.

"Master," she said, "I want you to punish me... I'll do anything." Surprising herself, she meant it.

Without a word, Harry pulled her up until she was draped against his chest and flopped back into bed with her. Hugged tightly to her, he took a handful of pale ass and pressed his lips to hers. His cock settled in its rightful place, hard and inches from Memi's pussy, rubbing between her damp thighs.

If he were a demon, even a typical human, she knew she would already be impaled. But Harry's thoughts were clearly in line with hers. He didn't want to simply use her like a toy.

Harry broke from the kiss and said, "Anything? You wouldn't let me hear the end of it if I said something like that."

"Worse," she said, nuzzling her face in his shoulder and whispering. "If you showed that kind of imprudence after all you have been dragged through, I would make you regret it. But you're already my master. I would already do anything for you in my power, no matter how degrading, how painful. That is the power I gave to you when I signed myself over."

"So, why shouldn't I teach you the same lesson?"

Memi laughed into his shoulder. "Master, you're too pleasant to think up the mildest tortures of hell. I welcome the attempt. I will accept anything my master deigns to give."

He should have been made happy, given the freedom to express his lust to the fullest with an enthusiastic partner. But Harry lay there with Memi in his arms, stroking her back as his erection faded. While she contemplated reassuring him, the moment was clearly done with a fork stuck in it.

Memi sighed and accepted the cuddle session for what it was worth. Shame made a pit in her stomach that sapped her enjoyment of the embrace.

---

To her credit, Laura had seem too much debauchery lately to redden with embarrassment, something the eavesdroppers around them lacked. The dough had been passed through the pasta shaper and noodles waited for Memi and Laura to finish the sauce. And Memi could tell her temper was faltering, teeth consciously ungrit as she went through the account of her humiliation.

"See?" Memi said, "I know he doesn't want to take me like a demon, but I offered myself to him wholly and he throws it aside like trash."

Still listening, Laura stirred the sauce and Memi considered taking over to dispel the stares her friend's jiggling drew from some of the boyfriends around them. Though she may have been more offended by her own chest being so inadequate in comparison.

Laura said, "I'm pretty sure I know what's wrong."

Memi perked up, begging with her eyes for Laura to enlighten her. Anxiety had simmered for weeks and though she had been physical with Harry since that story, her sense of pride remained wounded.

"Stir this for a minute, you should feel the motion. Make sure the spoon agitates the bottom so it doesn't settle and burn." Laura handed off the wooden spoon and, to the displeasure of some other women's boyfriends, let Memi jiggle to the best of her meagre ability. "Just to be sure I'm right, I'm going to ask some questions. Okay?"

Memi nodded.

"If he hit you, would you still love him?"

Memi nodded. "I am his familiar. It would be well within his rights to apply corporal punishment."