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Amorous Goods: The Pendulum & Music Box
Amorous
Goods: The Pendulum
A demon-haunted
pendulum guides a man into a life of vice.
Based
on a post by ShowTime8.
Listen to the
Podcast at Explicit
Novels.
Prologue:
A
lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left
the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining
relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of
administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However,
she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted
with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series
is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.
The
dreams had been getting intense since Jack returned from Canada. He always
awoke with flashes of imagery: torchlight against stone pillars, the reek of incense
smoke, a pair of inhuman green eyes. Also, a word ringing in his ears: "Rozrael".
Jack
didn't immediately make the connection between his dreams and the obsidian
pendulum he bought from a store in Toronto.
It
was the weirdest pawn shop he had ever seen: a red brick mansion that seemed
curiously out of place within the shopping district. It was called Amorous
Goods, which sounded like a sex shop.
When
he entered, it looked more like a shabby antiques store. Its items were a
curious mix of the mundane and erotic. Lamps and pill-boxes sat beside bizarre
pieces of erotic artwork; statues of nude women, early twentieth century
paintings of orgies.
Jack
really wanted the antique erotic art, but he couldn't afford it. The owner
didn't seem open to haggling. But he had to get a memento of the weirdest shop
in Canada.
So,
he picked up this obsidian pendulum, with a metal chain. It was cheap and
interesting. The pendulum looked like a pyramid with a hexagonal base. He paid
for it, chucked it in his satchel and left. The owner looked like he couldn't
wait to see the back of him.
Days
later, he was back in the UK, and the life from which he had fled for a week.
He returned on Saturday night, and was expected back in the office on Monday.
Jack
wondered if the money spent on the flight should have gone into something that
could have improved his career prospects. Or if he should have spent that time
doing something to get out of that job.
But
he had been down that path too long, and it led him straight back to where he
was now; in his thirties, doing data entry, and living with his parents. He
needed that holiday.
Sunday
night, the dreams came again. The exotic, torch lit temple. And that word:
"Rozrael".
He
woke to see the pendulum, previously in his satchel, now on his bedside table
beside his alarm clock.
"The
fuck!"
He
jolted upwards. Did he put it there? He was tired last night, maybe he forgot.
He looked over at his satchel, which was still in the corner of his bedroom
where he dumped it yesterday.
Sitting
on the bed, he picked up the pendulum, examining it in his hands.
"Take
me with you."
Jack
dropped the pendulum. He heard a voice. A female voice. Was he dreaming?
He
wondered if this was a side-effect of jetlag. He put the pendulum back on the
table, took out a notepad and biro and wrote down "Rozrael".
Amorous
Goods, Toronto. One year later.
Dylan
entered the shop floor holding a ledger open in front of him. Behind the
counter was a young woman with red shoulder-length hair, peering at a laptop.
"Vikki,
look at this."
"Umm
hmm?"
"You
know anything about a pendulum that uncle sold?"
"Ask
Marshall,' she replied, 'he knows about this stuff."
"This
one might be tricky," said Dylan.
"What
do you mean?"
"Uncle
sold it to someone in England."
"England?"
asked Vikki. "Someone came all the way from England to shop here?"
"Ever
heard of tourism?"
Vikki
slammed the laptop shut.
"Goddamn
it," she exclaimed. "Does this mean we'll have to pay for a flight to
fucking England to get this thing back?"
"Hey,
relax," said Dylan. "This thing was just a cheap trinket. Could be
nothing."
"I
hope so."
They
turned to see a middle-aged man with a stack of papers under his arm. Marshall
seemed unremarkable in khaki chinos and a button-down shirt. He was big-built,
but had developed a paunch with age. Once, he would have been physically
intimidating, but he still moved with youthful energy.
"I
heard my name," said Marshall.
"You
know anything about this pendulum in the ledger?" Dylan asked.
"Oh,
the pendulum of Rozrael? That item has quite a
history behind it."
"I
knew it," exclaimed Vikki. "It's cursed, isn't it?"
"You
could say that," said Marshall. "It houses a powerful demon."
"Okay,
tell us about this demon," said Dylan.
Plymouth,
UK.
Jack
had a whole morning to kill before work. He wanted to see if this pendulum was
an antique, if it was worth anything. He sat before his PC with a coffee.
First,
he wanted to google this word he kept hearing for the past two days.
turned up results, but they were scarce. All he could find was the name of a
demon from some grimoire called Liber Virtute. There
was an online archive of historical grimoires, scanned from public and private
libraries across the world.
This
demon seemed to be on the lower end of a demonic hierarchy, nothing else to be
red besides a name and a seal. While other demons had descriptions of their
office and their position in the hierarchy, this one didn't seem to be worthy
of description.
So,
he was being contacted by a demon. Or he was losing his mind. There was only
one way to find out.
Jack
signed up to web forums frequented by occultists, people who actually practiced
this stuff.
He
made his intro post to several of them, and then posted his request for
information, along with a quick photo of the pendulum.
Then
he packed his rucksack and left for work.
"The
pendulum was created in sixteenth century Venice," Marshall explained,
"on commission by an occultist named Marcilio
Cellini for a merchant called Filipo d'Este. Filipo married into the
family who became the Hapsburgs that ruled England since the British Empire. Filipo did not simply want money. He wanted power.
"To
get that kind of power, one must be a commanding presence. Filipo
was simply a merchant who rode on the tails of his ancestors."
"So,
the only way he could get that kind of power was through magic," Vikki
interjected.
"Precisely.
He hired Marcilio to create a talisman for this
purpose. Unfortunately, he did his job a little too well. This thing housed a
demon of immense power, giving her a foothold in this world. She piggy-backed
on Filipo's earthly desires to establish her own
kingdom."
"And
this demon was Rozrael?" asked Dylan.
"Correct.
When the she unites with the owner, her power shines through them, making them
charismatic and unstoppable. She eventually was stopped when the pendulum was
passed on to his eldest son. He made too many enemies in business and politics.
And he slept with the wives of powerful men. One of whom had him assassinated,
ending his reign, and ending Rozrael's
influence."
Jack's
day at work was the same underpaid monotony he tolerated for years. He got off
the bus at the local depot, where he worked in data entry for a communications
company. Every day, for seven hours, he sat at a desk and typed in postal
addresses.
It
was an open plan office. Thousands of black and white address labels passed his
screen every day. Nearby, a huge window opened out onto an industrial
landscape, where he glanced at the sun as it set each evening.
Jack's
attempts at leaving this job in the past had been met with a wall of silence:
job applications, the occasional "informal chat" over the phone, a
half-assed Linked In profile. All of which no one cared about.
Every
day Jack started his shift with this thought, which he kept to himself. Until
he opened his rucksack, and found the pendulum at the top of the pile.
He
dropped the rucksack. Did he put it in there without thinking? He must have put
it in there by accident. Somehow.
Jack
took the pendulum out, looking at it. He noticed the cluster of desks on the
other side of the office where the managers carried out administrative tasks at
their own computers.
Among
them was Sadie, striding between desks with papers in her hand, obviously busy.
Sadie
would have been plain and unnoticeable. However, she knew what she was doing
with her hair, clothes and make-up, making the most of what she had. She had
long, dark voluminous hair that framed mousy features, although her lips were
full and luscious. She would flash a beautiful smile at him as he passed her in
the corridors.
Sadie
was slim, but curvy in the right places, and she dressed in a way that
accentuated her figure.
Jack
never forgot the Christmas Eve when the managers wore casual clothes. Sadie's
tight jeans made a lasting impression on him. When she bent over the desk in
front of him, his erection got so big, he had to spend his break sat at his
desk.
Jack
absent-mindedly fingered the pendulum, thinking about that ass as Sadie walked
towards his desk, a mound of papers clutched against her chest. He let the
pendulum drop between his fingers, watching it swing back and forth, always in
the direction of Sadie walking past. Jack looked at it, then put it back on his
desk.
"So,
the pendulum," Vikki asked. "What's so sinister about it?"
"It
houses Rozrael and is used to communicate with the
user," Marshall explained. "It answers simple yes or no questions. It
points him in the direction of business opportunities. Sometimes, it will point
to sexual opportunities. Filipo used it to judge
which ladies in the Venetian courts would be open to sleeping with him."
"Are
you saying," asked Dylan, "that this pendulum dowses for pussy?"
"Correct,"
Marshall smiled. "But to Rozrael, sex is a means
to an end. Any domain she establishes won't be in the interests of humanity. It
may be a portal between whatever hellish dimension she comes from into our
world."
During
quiet moments, Jack would pick up the pendulum from his desk and let it swing.
He noticed a pattern in its movements, always swinging in the direction of
certain women.
Perhaps
he was just horny. Perhaps it was his imagination. He had not had sex in years.
The
pendulum swung in the direction of Donna, sat nearby. A Goth back in the day,
she still wore band T-shirts in her thirties. Dark hair, pale skin, and
impressive tits that Jack struggled not to stare at. Her big tits jutted
through a black T-shirt with some obscure metal band print.
Donna
never showed him much attention. They never spoke. Jack never knew what to say
to her.
The
pendulum was interested in her though. It swung in her direction, not wavering
until Sadie walked past. Then it would follow Sadie, until her fine ass had
sauntered around the corner. Then it would go back towards Donna, until Jack
put it back on the desk, before someone noticed.
His
shift ended. He packed his rucksack, got up and caught the bus home.
An
hour later, sat at his PC desk, he logged on to see the responses to his
queries that morning.
Responses
were few, but revealing. It turned out that the Liber Virtute
had a small but dedicated following of experienced occultists, who had been
experimenting with it for years. And they were happy to share their advice.
"What
else do we need to know?" asked Dylan.
"She
appears to the magician in a way that is sexually enticing. She appears as a
woman, with certain features exaggerated."
"Certain
features?" asked Vikki.
"Tits
and ass, usually" Marshall replied.
"Thanks
for clarifying."
"When
she fully unites with the operator, she guides them, and her sexual power
shines through them into all they meet."
"How
do we stop her?" asked Vikki.
"You
probably won't have to. In fact, I would classify this task low priority."
"Low
priority?" exclaimed Dylan. "A demon is trying to take over the
world, and this is low priority?"
"Our
customer is highly unlikely to accomplish anything with the pendulum alone. He
needs the grimoire containing Marcilio's notes. It
tells us how to wake that demon back to life, and it tells us how to put her
back down again. And it's in our vaults."
"So,
we're safe?" asked Dylan.
"For
now," responded Marshall. "We should get it back at some point, but
let's focus on the real dangerous ones, the ones bought locally. Save this one
for a vacation abroad."
Vikki
frowned and pulled out her laptop.
"What
did you say his name is?"
Jack
sat on his cheap office chair in semi-darkness. His bedroom was lit by a single
beeswax candle on top of his cupboard. Illuminated by this candle was a piece
of paper, on which Jack had scrawled the seal of Rozrael.
In
his hand was the pendulum, hanging between his fingers as he gazed at the seal.
His
online friends had given him a simple ritual to contact Rozrael,
who was largely unknown and lacking established contact protocols. Jack was
glad he didn't need the complicated, near-impossible tools that more
established entities in the Liber Virtute required.
Jack
gazed at the seal and chanted the name over and over. He lost of count of how
long this took. His eyelids drooped, blurring his view of the seal.
The
pendulum clattered to the fiber glass surface of the cupboard, jolting him
upright. The room seemed to be lit by a golden glow.
Jack
swung around slowly in his office chair, and saw a light behind him. The other
side of his bedroom opened out onto a bizarre scene. Where his bedroom ended
was now a vast room, lit by flaming torches ensconced on huge stone pillars.
A
tall figure emerged from between the pillars, into the torchlight. A woman,
slightly taller than Jack. She was clad in black latex, buckled and strapped
across the front. She resembled a stereotypical dominatrix, her boots
resounding across the stone floor.
She
appeared human, although unearthly. She gazed at him with bright green eyes, in
a face that was inhumanly beautiful. Her should-length hair was blonde, shining
with a fiery aura.
Her
fingers were a little too long to be human, slender with claw-like nails.
She
seemed too perfect, like a photoshopped pornstar come
to life. Her tits were huge, straining to break free from the buckled latex.
And yet she had the body of an athlete, slim, with long legs.
"Rozrael?" Jack said.
"Of
course."
She
strode into his bedroom, standing a meter away. Jack stood, but remained
silent.
"What
do you want?" she spoke in an echoing voice.
"Are
you the one who calls me in my dreams?" he asked.
"Yes."
Jack
kept glancing at her tits, the cleavage behind the straps.
"Why?"
"I
think we can work to each other's benefit. I can make you powerful."
"How?"
"When
we unite, nobody will be able to resist you. Women will desire you. Men will
fear you. This way, your status on Earth will rise."
"What
do you want from me?"
She
reached forward with a long, slender hand and brushed it down his chest, down
to his crotch. Her touch was cool, electric. He let out a sharp intake of
breath as she gently reached for his balls over his jeans, holding them.
"Give
of yourself to me," she said. "And I will give of myself to
you."
With
her other hand, she unbuckled her top, revealing her magnificent cleavage. Huge
tits burst out almost to the nipple, as her top opened down to her midriff,
casting a shadow over her toned stomach.
Jack
was transfixed, as she ran her fingers up underneath his T-shirt, back towards
his chest. His cock was hardening already, straining beneath his jeans.
He
needed no instruction.
"It's
a deal."
Jack
unbuckled his belt and pulled his jeans down, revealing a semi-erection in his
black boxer shorts. Still with a hand on his chest, she pulled his boxers down
with the other hand, releasing his cock and gazing at it with a smile, as she
cradled his exposed balls with her other cold hand. He went fully erect
immediately.
She
pushed him towards the bed behind him.
"Sit."
Jack
lay back on his bed, his erect cock between him and the busty demoness.
Her
other hand reached down to the shaft of his cock, and she bent forward,
swallowing his cock. She cradled his balls as she ran her mouth up and down his
shaft, engulfing it right down to the base. He had never received a blowjob
this deep before. His entire groin felt charged with a cold, fiery energy.
Jack
expected to shoot his load in seconds. Strangely, this blowjob was prolonged,
like he wasn't allowed to cum, not just yet. He lay back as this energy
engulfed his body from his groin.
When
he exploded in her mouth, he convulsed a few times. It felt like more than just
semen leaving his body. The energy left too, and he felt empty.
Jack
lay back and watched her stand up from his body, releasing his spent cock from
her mouth, to his thigh. She knelt between his parted legs and unbuckled her
latex top further, pulling her top apart to allow her huge tits to fall out in
the torchlight.
Her
tits were round and firm; large pink nipples with areolas that seemed stretched
out by the size of her tits. Her nipples were thick and erect. The desire in
him was strong, but he was tired and weak.
She
took his hands, pressing them to her tits. He squeezed and fondled them,
feeling their weight, their smoothness. His thumbs went over her hard nipples,
and they seemed oddly moist.
She
reached behind his head with one hand, pulling his head towards her tit. His
mouth clamped eagerly over her tit, his tongue flicking against her hard
nipple. It tasted faintly salty. He sucked harder, and more fluid trickled into
his mouth, down his throat. He felt it build in his body. More fluid came out,
and he felt his lust return.
Eventually,
he didn't need her to hold him. He sucked eagerly on her tit until she wrapped her
arms around his head and pulled his face down between them. For a second it
seemed as though he breathed in her entire body into his, before everything
went dark.
Jack
woke up on his bed in darkness, his pants around his ankles, his stomach and
chest wet with semen. The temple scene was gone.
He
got up from the bed, pulled his pants up and walked to the bathroom. Wincing
when he turned on the light, he washed his hands. He splashed water on his face
and looked in the mirror, running his hands over his forehead, his cheekbones,
his jaw, like he had never seen them properly before. He liked what he saw. And
he felt powerful.
The
next day, Jack walked into the office, as usual. But this time, things seemed
different. People looked up from their desks as he walked in.
Maybe
it was the way he carried himself. He didn't know. He looked at the world
around him with new eyes, and he saw a world ripe for the taking.
Jack
sat at his desk, got out his iPod and water bottle, and then the pendulum. When
no one looked, he let it hang between his fingers. It swung towards the
stairwell nearby. He watched the glass doors to see who it might be pointing
towards.
Sadie
came up the stairwell towards the doors, and t
View all episodes
By Steamy StoriesAmorous
Goods: The Pendulum
A demon-haunted
pendulum guides a man into a life of vice.
Based
on a post by ShowTime8.
Listen to the
Podcast at Explicit
Novels.
Prologue:
A
lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left
the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining
relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of
administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However,
she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted
with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series
is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.
The
dreams had been getting intense since Jack returned from Canada. He always
awoke with flashes of imagery: torchlight against stone pillars, the reek of incense
smoke, a pair of inhuman green eyes. Also, a word ringing in his ears: "Rozrael".
Jack
didn't immediately make the connection between his dreams and the obsidian
pendulum he bought from a store in Toronto.
It
was the weirdest pawn shop he had ever seen: a red brick mansion that seemed
curiously out of place within the shopping district. It was called Amorous
Goods, which sounded like a sex shop.
When
he entered, it looked more like a shabby antiques store. Its items were a
curious mix of the mundane and erotic. Lamps and pill-boxes sat beside bizarre
pieces of erotic artwork; statues of nude women, early twentieth century
paintings of orgies.
Jack
really wanted the antique erotic art, but he couldn't afford it. The owner
didn't seem open to haggling. But he had to get a memento of the weirdest shop
in Canada.
So,
he picked up this obsidian pendulum, with a metal chain. It was cheap and
interesting. The pendulum looked like a pyramid with a hexagonal base. He paid
for it, chucked it in his satchel and left. The owner looked like he couldn't
wait to see the back of him.
Days
later, he was back in the UK, and the life from which he had fled for a week.
He returned on Saturday night, and was expected back in the office on Monday.
Jack
wondered if the money spent on the flight should have gone into something that
could have improved his career prospects. Or if he should have spent that time
doing something to get out of that job.
But
he had been down that path too long, and it led him straight back to where he
was now; in his thirties, doing data entry, and living with his parents. He
needed that holiday.
Sunday
night, the dreams came again. The exotic, torch lit temple. And that word:
"Rozrael".
He
woke to see the pendulum, previously in his satchel, now on his bedside table
beside his alarm clock.
"The
fuck!"
He
jolted upwards. Did he put it there? He was tired last night, maybe he forgot.
He looked over at his satchel, which was still in the corner of his bedroom
where he dumped it yesterday.
Sitting
on the bed, he picked up the pendulum, examining it in his hands.
"Take
me with you."
Jack
dropped the pendulum. He heard a voice. A female voice. Was he dreaming?
He
wondered if this was a side-effect of jetlag. He put the pendulum back on the
table, took out a notepad and biro and wrote down "Rozrael".
Amorous
Goods, Toronto. One year later.
Dylan
entered the shop floor holding a ledger open in front of him. Behind the
counter was a young woman with red shoulder-length hair, peering at a laptop.
"Vikki,
look at this."
"Umm
hmm?"
"You
know anything about a pendulum that uncle sold?"
"Ask
Marshall,' she replied, 'he knows about this stuff."
"This
one might be tricky," said Dylan.
"What
do you mean?"
"Uncle
sold it to someone in England."
"England?"
asked Vikki. "Someone came all the way from England to shop here?"
"Ever
heard of tourism?"
Vikki
slammed the laptop shut.
"Goddamn
it," she exclaimed. "Does this mean we'll have to pay for a flight to
fucking England to get this thing back?"
"Hey,
relax," said Dylan. "This thing was just a cheap trinket. Could be
nothing."
"I
hope so."
They
turned to see a middle-aged man with a stack of papers under his arm. Marshall
seemed unremarkable in khaki chinos and a button-down shirt. He was big-built,
but had developed a paunch with age. Once, he would have been physically
intimidating, but he still moved with youthful energy.
"I
heard my name," said Marshall.
"You
know anything about this pendulum in the ledger?" Dylan asked.
"Oh,
the pendulum of Rozrael? That item has quite a
history behind it."
"I
knew it," exclaimed Vikki. "It's cursed, isn't it?"
"You
could say that," said Marshall. "It houses a powerful demon."
"Okay,
tell us about this demon," said Dylan.
Plymouth,
UK.
Jack
had a whole morning to kill before work. He wanted to see if this pendulum was
an antique, if it was worth anything. He sat before his PC with a coffee.
First,
he wanted to google this word he kept hearing for the past two days.
turned up results, but they were scarce. All he could find was the name of a
demon from some grimoire called Liber Virtute. There
was an online archive of historical grimoires, scanned from public and private
libraries across the world.
This
demon seemed to be on the lower end of a demonic hierarchy, nothing else to be
red besides a name and a seal. While other demons had descriptions of their
office and their position in the hierarchy, this one didn't seem to be worthy
of description.
So,
he was being contacted by a demon. Or he was losing his mind. There was only
one way to find out.
Jack
signed up to web forums frequented by occultists, people who actually practiced
this stuff.
He
made his intro post to several of them, and then posted his request for
information, along with a quick photo of the pendulum.
Then
he packed his rucksack and left for work.
"The
pendulum was created in sixteenth century Venice," Marshall explained,
"on commission by an occultist named Marcilio
Cellini for a merchant called Filipo d'Este. Filipo married into the
family who became the Hapsburgs that ruled England since the British Empire. Filipo did not simply want money. He wanted power.
"To
get that kind of power, one must be a commanding presence. Filipo
was simply a merchant who rode on the tails of his ancestors."
"So,
the only way he could get that kind of power was through magic," Vikki
interjected.
"Precisely.
He hired Marcilio to create a talisman for this
purpose. Unfortunately, he did his job a little too well. This thing housed a
demon of immense power, giving her a foothold in this world. She piggy-backed
on Filipo's earthly desires to establish her own
kingdom."
"And
this demon was Rozrael?" asked Dylan.
"Correct.
When the she unites with the owner, her power shines through them, making them
charismatic and unstoppable. She eventually was stopped when the pendulum was
passed on to his eldest son. He made too many enemies in business and politics.
And he slept with the wives of powerful men. One of whom had him assassinated,
ending his reign, and ending Rozrael's
influence."
Jack's
day at work was the same underpaid monotony he tolerated for years. He got off
the bus at the local depot, where he worked in data entry for a communications
company. Every day, for seven hours, he sat at a desk and typed in postal
addresses.
It
was an open plan office. Thousands of black and white address labels passed his
screen every day. Nearby, a huge window opened out onto an industrial
landscape, where he glanced at the sun as it set each evening.
Jack's
attempts at leaving this job in the past had been met with a wall of silence:
job applications, the occasional "informal chat" over the phone, a
half-assed Linked In profile. All of which no one cared about.
Every
day Jack started his shift with this thought, which he kept to himself. Until
he opened his rucksack, and found the pendulum at the top of the pile.
He
dropped the rucksack. Did he put it in there without thinking? He must have put
it in there by accident. Somehow.
Jack
took the pendulum out, looking at it. He noticed the cluster of desks on the
other side of the office where the managers carried out administrative tasks at
their own computers.
Among
them was Sadie, striding between desks with papers in her hand, obviously busy.
Sadie
would have been plain and unnoticeable. However, she knew what she was doing
with her hair, clothes and make-up, making the most of what she had. She had
long, dark voluminous hair that framed mousy features, although her lips were
full and luscious. She would flash a beautiful smile at him as he passed her in
the corridors.
Sadie
was slim, but curvy in the right places, and she dressed in a way that
accentuated her figure.
Jack
never forgot the Christmas Eve when the managers wore casual clothes. Sadie's
tight jeans made a lasting impression on him. When she bent over the desk in
front of him, his erection got so big, he had to spend his break sat at his
desk.
Jack
absent-mindedly fingered the pendulum, thinking about that ass as Sadie walked
towards his desk, a mound of papers clutched against her chest. He let the
pendulum drop between his fingers, watching it swing back and forth, always in
the direction of Sadie walking past. Jack looked at it, then put it back on his
desk.
"So,
the pendulum," Vikki asked. "What's so sinister about it?"
"It
houses Rozrael and is used to communicate with the
user," Marshall explained. "It answers simple yes or no questions. It
points him in the direction of business opportunities. Sometimes, it will point
to sexual opportunities. Filipo used it to judge
which ladies in the Venetian courts would be open to sleeping with him."
"Are
you saying," asked Dylan, "that this pendulum dowses for pussy?"
"Correct,"
Marshall smiled. "But to Rozrael, sex is a means
to an end. Any domain she establishes won't be in the interests of humanity. It
may be a portal between whatever hellish dimension she comes from into our
world."
During
quiet moments, Jack would pick up the pendulum from his desk and let it swing.
He noticed a pattern in its movements, always swinging in the direction of
certain women.
Perhaps
he was just horny. Perhaps it was his imagination. He had not had sex in years.
The
pendulum swung in the direction of Donna, sat nearby. A Goth back in the day,
she still wore band T-shirts in her thirties. Dark hair, pale skin, and
impressive tits that Jack struggled not to stare at. Her big tits jutted
through a black T-shirt with some obscure metal band print.
Donna
never showed him much attention. They never spoke. Jack never knew what to say
to her.
The
pendulum was interested in her though. It swung in her direction, not wavering
until Sadie walked past. Then it would follow Sadie, until her fine ass had
sauntered around the corner. Then it would go back towards Donna, until Jack
put it back on the desk, before someone noticed.
His
shift ended. He packed his rucksack, got up and caught the bus home.
An
hour later, sat at his PC desk, he logged on to see the responses to his
queries that morning.
Responses
were few, but revealing. It turned out that the Liber Virtute
had a small but dedicated following of experienced occultists, who had been
experimenting with it for years. And they were happy to share their advice.
"What
else do we need to know?" asked Dylan.
"She
appears to the magician in a way that is sexually enticing. She appears as a
woman, with certain features exaggerated."
"Certain
features?" asked Vikki.
"Tits
and ass, usually" Marshall replied.
"Thanks
for clarifying."
"When
she fully unites with the operator, she guides them, and her sexual power
shines through them into all they meet."
"How
do we stop her?" asked Vikki.
"You
probably won't have to. In fact, I would classify this task low priority."
"Low
priority?" exclaimed Dylan. "A demon is trying to take over the
world, and this is low priority?"
"Our
customer is highly unlikely to accomplish anything with the pendulum alone. He
needs the grimoire containing Marcilio's notes. It
tells us how to wake that demon back to life, and it tells us how to put her
back down again. And it's in our vaults."
"So,
we're safe?" asked Dylan.
"For
now," responded Marshall. "We should get it back at some point, but
let's focus on the real dangerous ones, the ones bought locally. Save this one
for a vacation abroad."
Vikki
frowned and pulled out her laptop.
"What
did you say his name is?"
Jack
sat on his cheap office chair in semi-darkness. His bedroom was lit by a single
beeswax candle on top of his cupboard. Illuminated by this candle was a piece
of paper, on which Jack had scrawled the seal of Rozrael.
In
his hand was the pendulum, hanging between his fingers as he gazed at the seal.
His
online friends had given him a simple ritual to contact Rozrael,
who was largely unknown and lacking established contact protocols. Jack was
glad he didn't need the complicated, near-impossible tools that more
established entities in the Liber Virtute required.
Jack
gazed at the seal and chanted the name over and over. He lost of count of how
long this took. His eyelids drooped, blurring his view of the seal.
The
pendulum clattered to the fiber glass surface of the cupboard, jolting him
upright. The room seemed to be lit by a golden glow.
Jack
swung around slowly in his office chair, and saw a light behind him. The other
side of his bedroom opened out onto a bizarre scene. Where his bedroom ended
was now a vast room, lit by flaming torches ensconced on huge stone pillars.
A
tall figure emerged from between the pillars, into the torchlight. A woman,
slightly taller than Jack. She was clad in black latex, buckled and strapped
across the front. She resembled a stereotypical dominatrix, her boots
resounding across the stone floor.
She
appeared human, although unearthly. She gazed at him with bright green eyes, in
a face that was inhumanly beautiful. Her should-length hair was blonde, shining
with a fiery aura.
Her
fingers were a little too long to be human, slender with claw-like nails.
She
seemed too perfect, like a photoshopped pornstar come
to life. Her tits were huge, straining to break free from the buckled latex.
And yet she had the body of an athlete, slim, with long legs.
"Rozrael?" Jack said.
"Of
course."
She
strode into his bedroom, standing a meter away. Jack stood, but remained
silent.
"What
do you want?" she spoke in an echoing voice.
"Are
you the one who calls me in my dreams?" he asked.
"Yes."
Jack
kept glancing at her tits, the cleavage behind the straps.
"Why?"
"I
think we can work to each other's benefit. I can make you powerful."
"How?"
"When
we unite, nobody will be able to resist you. Women will desire you. Men will
fear you. This way, your status on Earth will rise."
"What
do you want from me?"
She
reached forward with a long, slender hand and brushed it down his chest, down
to his crotch. Her touch was cool, electric. He let out a sharp intake of
breath as she gently reached for his balls over his jeans, holding them.
"Give
of yourself to me," she said. "And I will give of myself to
you."
With
her other hand, she unbuckled her top, revealing her magnificent cleavage. Huge
tits burst out almost to the nipple, as her top opened down to her midriff,
casting a shadow over her toned stomach.
Jack
was transfixed, as she ran her fingers up underneath his T-shirt, back towards
his chest. His cock was hardening already, straining beneath his jeans.
He
needed no instruction.
"It's
a deal."
Jack
unbuckled his belt and pulled his jeans down, revealing a semi-erection in his
black boxer shorts. Still with a hand on his chest, she pulled his boxers down
with the other hand, releasing his cock and gazing at it with a smile, as she
cradled his exposed balls with her other cold hand. He went fully erect
immediately.
She
pushed him towards the bed behind him.
"Sit."
Jack
lay back on his bed, his erect cock between him and the busty demoness.
Her
other hand reached down to the shaft of his cock, and she bent forward,
swallowing his cock. She cradled his balls as she ran her mouth up and down his
shaft, engulfing it right down to the base. He had never received a blowjob
this deep before. His entire groin felt charged with a cold, fiery energy.
Jack
expected to shoot his load in seconds. Strangely, this blowjob was prolonged,
like he wasn't allowed to cum, not just yet. He lay back as this energy
engulfed his body from his groin.
When
he exploded in her mouth, he convulsed a few times. It felt like more than just
semen leaving his body. The energy left too, and he felt empty.
Jack
lay back and watched her stand up from his body, releasing his spent cock from
her mouth, to his thigh. She knelt between his parted legs and unbuckled her
latex top further, pulling her top apart to allow her huge tits to fall out in
the torchlight.
Her
tits were round and firm; large pink nipples with areolas that seemed stretched
out by the size of her tits. Her nipples were thick and erect. The desire in
him was strong, but he was tired and weak.
She
took his hands, pressing them to her tits. He squeezed and fondled them,
feeling their weight, their smoothness. His thumbs went over her hard nipples,
and they seemed oddly moist.
She
reached behind his head with one hand, pulling his head towards her tit. His
mouth clamped eagerly over her tit, his tongue flicking against her hard
nipple. It tasted faintly salty. He sucked harder, and more fluid trickled into
his mouth, down his throat. He felt it build in his body. More fluid came out,
and he felt his lust return.
Eventually,
he didn't need her to hold him. He sucked eagerly on her tit until she wrapped her
arms around his head and pulled his face down between them. For a second it
seemed as though he breathed in her entire body into his, before everything
went dark.
Jack
woke up on his bed in darkness, his pants around his ankles, his stomach and
chest wet with semen. The temple scene was gone.
He
got up from the bed, pulled his pants up and walked to the bathroom. Wincing
when he turned on the light, he washed his hands. He splashed water on his face
and looked in the mirror, running his hands over his forehead, his cheekbones,
his jaw, like he had never seen them properly before. He liked what he saw. And
he felt powerful.
The
next day, Jack walked into the office, as usual. But this time, things seemed
different. People looked up from their desks as he walked in.
Maybe
it was the way he carried himself. He didn't know. He looked at the world
around him with new eyes, and he saw a world ripe for the taking.
Jack
sat at his desk, got out his iPod and water bottle, and then the pendulum. When
no one looked, he let it hang between his fingers. It swung towards the
stairwell nearby. He watched the glass doors to see who it might be pointing
towards.
Sadie
came up the stairwell towards the doors, and t