Melificentfan 1,215 Posted March 15, 2019 ✨ Legendary Member Share Posted March 15, 2019 That was fantastic Quote Link to comment
hauntedhouse2 2 Posted March 22, 2019 Share Posted March 22, 2019 We need more ! satyr and animefreak256 2 Quote Link to comment
vegeto4 13 Posted April 8, 2019 Share Posted April 8, 2019 checking this thread every day in the hopes of a sequel ... satyr and Ultima01 2 Quote Link to comment
bestrapperalive 183 Posted June 14, 2019 Share Posted June 14, 2019 fffffffffffffjfjfjfjf this is so good satyr you are so good seriously how Quote Link to comment
bestrapperalive 183 Posted June 14, 2019 Share Posted June 14, 2019 (edited) Like it’s actually insane how many boxes this checks, it’s got fear wetting, bed wetting, romance, love under duress, humiliation. Male wetting and scat are big turn offs for me but the way they were worked in here I barely flinched. And for an implausible story that doesn’t take itself seriously it’s all surprisingly believable, probably because of how great satyr is at writing this stuff. Looking forward to the conclusion in due time Edited June 14, 2019 by bestrapperalive (see edit history) satyr 1 Quote Link to comment
satyr 1,314 Posted August 7, 2019 Author Share Posted August 7, 2019 Sorry for the long delay! I had hoped to release the end of this series as a single installment, but that would likely be another 5K words. I've struggled mightily with writers' block, and wrote the first draft of this subchapter months ago. Finally I decided I might as well just release it to tide you over until I write the rest. I struggled a bit with this chapter because I needed it to do several seemingly paradoxical things: I needed it to be violent; I needed it not to seem like it endorses domestic violence, or that such things can be easily brushed aside; but I also needed it to advance the central love story. I know it's not perfect, but I need to just publish it so I can be done with this and move on. I hope you like it, even if it's shorter than the previous chapters! Chapter 5.1: Demon Inside Adam woke up to a headache pounding like a jackhammer somewhere around his forehead. He rolled over to see Asha, nude, leaning over the edge of the bed, noisily emptying the contents of her stomach into the paper bin. He sat up, leaned over, held her hair out of the way of her face. His gaze grazed her hairline, then followed along down her neck, down her spine, ending in the crack between her buttocks. He noted that a lazy trickle of urine was making a small wet spot on the sheets. Adam could feel something stirring in his groin, but he chose to ignore it—which was not a tall order given the murderous headache monopolizing his attention—and instead leaned over to the bedside table on his side, retrieving a roll of tissue paper. Once he was reasonably certain she was done, he handed his demon a piece of paper and helped wipe down her mouth. She turned towards him slowly, displaying reddish eyes with strained tears staining her cheeks. She looked like she hadn’t just vomited, but turned her entire body inside out. “Sorry about that,” she mumbled, then sunk down into the bed, hiding her body beneath the sheets until only the top of her head was visible. This she leaned against his chest, her ear rested against the staccato rhythm of his heartbeat. They lay like that for a minute, each trying to figure out how to start a conversation that needed to be had, but neither wanted to initiate. Adam laid a hand just below her bare breast, feeling her heart work just as hard as his, if not harder. Was she… embarrassed? Nervous? He tried to properly sit up in bed, but she grabbed his hand and pulled him down again, so that she could lay her head flat on top of his chest. Adam took a deep breath, then finally spoke: “What happened last night?” “Ugh,” she said, turning away from him. He grabbed her face and turned it to look into his eyes. Her eyes widened, pupils dilated, in a mixture of shock and—arousal? “Look at me,” he said. “What happened last night?” “My head hurts,” she said, eyes pleading. “Answer me.” His headache was not doing his mood any favors. “I—I don’t know,” she said. Adam was not in the mood for bullshit. A long-buried rage rose in him, a culmination of every slight—large and small—that he had ever experienced. His father, drunk, beating eight-year-old Adam with a belt, then sinking down on the floor, crying and offering incoherent apologies. (It was the only time his father ever laid hands on him.) His ninth-grade teacher blaming him for a fight instigated by a gang of tenth-grade bullies. His first girlfriend, in bed with Long John, an acquaintance who was on the short side; her eyes were pleading a forgiveness he was unprepared to give. He felt the muscles in his arms, his chest, his quads and calves contracting, his fingers curling around the damp sheets. There was a whooshing sound in his ears, like an airplane taking off or diving into a wind tunnel. His heart was beating harder than after a line of cocaine. His head was pounding. Adam’s arm reached around, grabbing around her throat and squeezing. “You like that?” He hissed. “Seemed like just the thing last night.” Adam watched as her eyes watered, a strange keening noise emitting from her throat beneath his fingers, the whites of her eyes bulging out and taking on a red shade. His fingers began to tremble, and then he saw something burst in her eyes, and he let his grip slacken and released her. What the fuck’s gotten into me? I could have killed her. He turned around in shame. She put her fingers around his neck, and for a moment he thought she was going to strangle him, but she merely redirected his eyes away from the opposite side of the room, toward her eyes. “I’m sorry I did that,” he whispered. There were red fingerprints imprinted on her delicate neck, and every blood vessel in her eyes was visible. Oh my god, what I have done? “No,” she whispered. “What’s going on?” Her eyes were searching his, looking for something but he couldn’t tell what. “I had a theory,” she whispered. “That the presence of large concentrations of Sin might free me… from you.” He said nothing. “But it didn’t work. Not quite like I had hoped. I felt such a rush of freedom, entering that place… I could finally unfold some of the wings that the binding had bound. But it didn’t allow me to fully break free from you. Only manipulate you to loosen the leash a little. It must have persisted.” “I...” He furrowed his brows, raised his voice from the intimate whisper they’d been employing. “I did things I never would have… You made me almost strangle you!” A sadness passed over her face. “No, no,” she whispered. “No, I only allowed the darkest parts of you to rise above the fray. I can’t make you do something you don’t want to do, deep down—all I can do is bypass the safety mechanisms, the failsafes that are supposed to make you reconsider decisions made by your darkest nature.” He pushed her away, Asha teetering on the edge of the bed before she re-stabilized. “The fuck did you do to me? Is it permanent?” He asked. “I imagine not. The fact that you’re so offended right now suggests that your better nature is already reasserting itself,” she said. “Fuck.” “Yes,” she said, licking her lips, and he couldn’t suppress a smile. “Not right now,” he whispered. The shame of what he had just done, what he might have done, clung to him like a sheet on a sweaty tropical night. They lay there for a second, letting it sink in. “It’s not okay,” she said. “What?” She traced a finger over the red line across her neck, drawing his attention to a yellowish bruise developing. “What you did. It’s not okay, but I understand why you did it. I know you wouldn’t have done it if not for the… influence of last night. I forgive you, mortal.” Adam felt his cheeks bloom scarlet. “But if you ever do that again, I will fucking end you. Understand?” He nodded. They lay there for another while, not speaking, Adam’s head swirling with emotions—shame, relief, confusion—and Asha’s unknowable. “You’d make a good little demon,” Asha whispered. “There’s a darkness inside you. And when you’re not hurting me, that’s kind of… fucking hot.” He laid there for a minute, considering this. He knew she was attracted to him—for whatever reason. Why would she say that? An olive branch, he concluded. She was signaling what had happened between them was over and dealt with, and she still liked him. “Why did you do that?” He said, finally. “Make me… want you like that, last night?” Asha rolled her eyes. “I told you, you mortals are way too stuck up about sex.” He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t give me that bullshit.” A strangeness passed over Asha’s face, a kind of bubbling of the skin like a wave passing over a patch of water—just like when somebody invoked the Lord in her presence. “I...” she began, stuttering. “I wanted you,” she spat out. “I might be a little bit in love with you, okay?” Adam’s jaw fell open. “Don’t stare at me like that!” She said, blushing. “It’s not like I wanted this, all right?” He chuckled. “Oh, don’t you dare,” she said. “I know you feel the same.” “Oh, I wouldn’t say—” She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t give me that bullshit,” she whispered, her lips very close to his, almost touching when she aspirated. “Okay, okay,” he said, leaning back. “Okay. What does it even matter? Today is the day of the ritual. Either we succeed and I never see you again”—he felt a strange tightness in his throat as he said it—“or we don’t, and we both end up with a fate worse than death. Doesn’t sound like the ideal foundation for romance.” “For such ephemeral creatures, you mortals really don’t know the meaning of the phrase live in the moment,” she said, punching him in the shoulder. “YOLO,” he said, giggling in spite of himself. “Yow-low? Is that one of those stupid… actuality shows on television you mortals love so much?” She asked. “Forget it. Come on, let’s get dressed. It’s...” He glanced at his phone. “Almost noon, which means we got twelve hours to convince Amy not to hate me, or you, and help us or at least instruct us on how to do the ritual. Before we get eaten by hellhounds and tormented until the end of the universe. No biggie.” She rose, and he couldn’t help but linger on her pale uncovered skin. “Oh, and I need to wash these sheets,” he said, as he accidentally put the palm of his hand in the puddle she’d deposited in bed as she vomited. “Why are you worrying about such insignificant...” “Because you pissed the bed again,” he said, and she at least had the decency not to argue as he took the time to strip the bed before he led her, wrapped in a dirty towel, towards the bathroom. “Let’s get your teeth brushed, you stink like a sewer,” Adam said as he led her by the hand out of the shower. He had taken care of the urine clinging to her upper thighs with a washcloth, which had strayed further north, and judging by the way her thighs and abdomen quivered, or the way she ground her pelvis into his hand, she had enjoyed it. “You wouldn’t have noticed if you didn’t stick your tongue down my throat,” she said, sticking her tongue out. “Shut up.” He’d fed them both more over-the-counter painkillers than was strictly recommended, and she seemed to be recovering from her hangover at a frankly concerning rate. “Wha’s plan?” She asked—he thought—as he dabbed at her mouth with a handkerchief. “I’m going to bug and beg Amy over the phone until she agrees to at least give us the instructions for the ritual,” he said. “If she refuses to take the call, we’re going to bang on her door until the neighbors start calling the cops.” “I’d like to meet these ‘cops’ of yours,” Asha said, a flicker of flame dancing around her pupils, licking her lips. “No, no, it won’t come to that,” he said, more like a prayer than a statement of fact. The last thing he needed was for his bound demon to protect him from the police in whatever horrifying fashion she deemed necessary. Visions of human bodies wrung inside-out flashed before his inner eye. “I’m hungry,” she announced. “Make me some food.” “You don’t give the orders around here.” The rumbling of his stomach betrayed him. Damn it. “We’ll grab something to go from the campus canteen. We can take a blanket and have a picnic in the park while I phone stalk Amy.” “How romantic,” Asha said. He never could tell when she was mocking him and when she was being uncharacteristically emotional. “Consider it our first solo date.” “I’m thrilled, mortal,” Asha said, rolling her eyes. They found a spot in the park that formed the rough center of the campus—slightly offset by the university plaza, where the Dean would hold his interminably boring speeches at the beginning of each semester—and he placed down a ragged blanket, handing Asha a ham sandwich. He’d learned by now that she wouldn’t eat anything that didn’t at least have a small element of meat. Adam laid down on the blanket, tearing a piece off his own sandwich, and Asha did the same. It was a nice spring day, with only a couple of wispy clouds on an otherwise warm, blue sky. “Look at that one,” he said, pointing at one of the clouds. “Looks like a dancing elephant.” “Are you sure you didn’t knock your head on something last night?” Asha asked. “That’s clearly an amorphous blob of cloud.” “Use your imagination. What does it remind you of?” He looked over at her. She scrunched up her brow in concentration, then she giggled. “Oh, I see it now! Satan torching four sinners on a spit above a pit of glowing embers!” Adam shook his head. Once a demon, always a demon. He was just about to dial Amy on his phone when a familiar voice cut through the demon’s giggling. “What are you two lovebirds up two?” Adam sat up. There was Amy, piercing him with a stare that said “I don’t believe for a moment this isn’t a date, and you know I don’t.” He blushed. “Ames, I’m sorry—” he began. “Yeah, yeah,” Amy said. “You look like shit, by the way. Maybe not her, but definitely you. Have fun last night?” “Oh, fuck off. Does this mean you’re not mad at me anymore?” Amy stared him down. Her eyes were dripping venom. “Abso-fucking-lutely not. I’m still pissed. But Peter and I made up, somehow. He’s at least talking to me. And so I figured, assuming he doesn’t end up dumping me after all, you will eventually work your way back into my good graces. You might have to lick my ass for a while—hey! That was not literal, don’t look so goddamn perverted! And in the meantime, we have a time limit to get this ritual done.” acer913, Imouto Kitten, herinfinitedesp and 1 other 4 Quote Link to comment
Melificentfan 1,215 Posted August 7, 2019 ✨ Legendary Member Share Posted August 7, 2019 That was fabulous I can't wait to read the next chapter Quote Link to comment
bestrapperalive 183 Posted August 9, 2019 Share Posted August 9, 2019 Hnnnggggggg... What a tease! The domestic violence did feel like it came a bit out of nowhere, but I don’t think you made it seem normalized or permissible or anything. I didn’t realize how mad Adam was going to be about the last chapter either. The romance keeps building and my affection for these characters builds with it. Whenever I read a new chapter they follow me through the day, popping up in my head like ‘hey, remember us? Just think of all the romantic mischief we could get up to!” Will Adam’s unrealized powerful necromancy save the day? Will it be Asha? Where is the place where Asha’s heart resides? :O Will Amy come to terms with her kinks? And whatever will Adam’s roommates have to say about it? ;P Good luck with the writer’s block! Quote Link to comment
Real_JayJay 13 Posted August 9, 2019 Share Posted August 9, 2019 I am absolutely in love with this story. Like its a real story. Its not just about Omo. I really like it. And I dont want it to end honestly. 😕 Quote Link to comment
satyr 1,314 Posted August 16, 2019 Author Popular Post Share Posted August 16, 2019 Fun fact: All the stuff about herbs (minus their application to occult rituals) is real. Also, this is the final chapter. There will, however, be an epilogue, which will try to tie up some loose threads. But this is the final chapter of the main plotline of this story. This is roughly what I had planned from chapter 2 onwards. Chapter 5.2: The Ritual “Get off your asses, we can’t sit around here looking at clouds all day. We have a lot of stuff to acquire.” She took a swig of the water bottle she was carrying, then handed Adam a list. It had twenty-seven items and he only recognized one or two. “Holy shit, Amy, do we really need all of this stuff?” “No, but half of it we’re unlikely to be able to get on short notice. Some of it seems like it would be highly illegal if not physically impossible to get under any kind of time frame. So, I drew up some alternatives that have similar medicinal or symbolic properties.” Adam shook his head. “We’re just gonna wing it?” “Well, yes,” Amy said, puffing her cheeks out in a way Adam once found adorable, crossing her arms defensively in front of her chest, “but actually, no.” Adam was confused, and said so. “Look, Adam, we’re going to try an obscure ritual that probably nobody has done in three hundred years, and it might not work. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned about this kind of shit, it’s that intentions matter. I’ve come across sources that outright say that you should never pay attention to the exact details, but always discern the intention and purpose behind them. Old-timey witches would put traps into their rituals, things that would turn the ritual upside down if done literally—but a trained practitioner would know to look deeper, at the function and intention, and find a suitable substitute. The worst thing we could do, probably, would be to follow the recipe literally.” “She has a point, mortal,” Asha said. She had risen with the grace of a cat and now had her head almost resting on his shoulder, looking over the list. “Perhaps you were able to invoke the binding because you’re such a piss-poor necromancer that you accidentally got all the details wrong in all the right ways.” “Thanks, Asha.” He rolled his eyes. “Yes, so, you guys need to trust me on this,” Amy said, taking another sip of water, “or you’re out. Right now.” “I trust you,” Adam said. “I trust him, and he trusts you,” said Asha. “Good. Now, listen: We’re going to make a witch’s brew, with all sorts of nasty ingredients, which you two will drink, and then we’ll do some stuff with incantations and candles and knives and blood,” here Adam’s eyes widened, “but no more than taking a small blood sample at the doctor’s office, relax. That shit is easy compared to making the brew and finding the right location to perform the ritual at the right time.” “So, the hard part?” “Well, getting all the ingredients and putting them together in the approximate right proportions. I’ve identified all the ingredients as either being medicinal or symbolic. Meaning, everything that has some known use in traditional medicine is probably there primarily for its physiological effect, while anything that was never widely used as medicine is probably there to serve as a symbol for something or other. We’re on a clock, people. Let’s get moving.” Luckily, there was a little side street that housed no less than four different little herbalist’s shops, traditional apothecaries, the sort of shops that old ladies and young hippies go to, but most people would never know were even there. Even luckier, by some unspoken agreement, all of them were open on an early Sunday afternoon. The first stop was Zhu Jie’s Apothecary & Herbs. It had one grimy window into a dark interior, but the shop on the door said OPEN and inside was a single, long counter, with a very cluttered set of shelves behind it. Behind the counter was a doorway with little crystals or pearls threaded together hanging as a curtain to shield the store from the back room. A golden cat sat moving its paw back and forth mechanically on the counter, next to an antique till. “Coming, I come,” said a husky voice from the back. A wrinkled old lady poked her head in through the pearls. “What you want, little miss?” She asked, addressing Amy as she were obviously in charge. Curiously, Amy blushed at the form of address. “I came for some Yuan Zhi. Oh, and a rat’s tail.” The old woman entered her shop and shook her head. “This one,” she said, nodding at Amy but addressing Adam, “she come in all the time, looking for all sorts of odd things. Want to recapture her youth, she say, but she is young enough to make old lady like me blush.” The woman waved her finger in front of Amy. “Very disrespectful, that one.” But there was a warmth in the way she said it, and a glint in her eye—Adam noted that Amy was beet red, and the woman gave him an exaggerated wink as she said it. “Do you have the stuff I need?” Amy asked, trying to deflect. “You think you come here to get nasty old rat tail? You think Chinese like that shit?” She grinned, gauging their reaction to her vulgar speech. “Lucky for you, little bird told me might have use of one, got plenty rats in the basement. Old house, stinks down there, tell you. This cat is good for nothing!” And she slapped the mechanical good-luck cat so hard it almost fell off the counter, then she laughed. “Also, Yuan Zhi, very good root. Got powder.” Amy paid for a dried rat tail wrapped in paper, as well as a little ziplock bag of a light brown, almost white powder that would look suspicious to any police officer in a mile’s radius. She put both into her purse, along with her almost empty water bottle. “What was that about?” Adam asked. “Recapturing your youth?” Amy shot him a look that said, One day very soon, your curiosity will get your ass kicked, and he quickly asked about the Yuan Zhi instead. “Polygala tenuifolia, known in traditional Chinese medicine as Yuan Zhi. Modern science is just about rediscovering that it might have some actually valid uses. It promotes Nerve Growth Factor and Brain-Derived Neurotrophic Factor, it reduces monoamine oxidase, and it has rapid antidepressant effects possibly mediated by a mechanism similar to ketamine. Basically, it protects your brain, and I have reason to believe this ritual will fuck up your brain.” “How do you know all this shit?” He asked. She smiled and tapped her forehead. “I read.” She’s full of surprises. He didn’t ask about the rat tail. They visited the next herbalist’s shop. This one had self-service shelves, but also more stuff in various jars and Erlenmeyer flasks on shelves behind the counter. Amy pointed to a jar of blackish goo behind the counter. “I’d like to buy some chaga,” she said. The young man behind the counter was far less chatty than the Chinese woman, and they were out quickly. “Inonotus obliquus,” she said. “Also known as chaga. A parasitic fungus that grows on birch trees. In Norway, they call it cancer polypore.” “It causes cancer?” Adam asked. “It kind of looks like a tumor the way it grows on the tree. Also, it supposedly prevents or cures cancer, according to traditional medicine.” The third shop was a little bit more modern, and styled itself a head shop. “That means it sells drugs, but not like, the good shit,” Asha observed. “How would you know?” “I feel the sweet scent of caged sin in my bones, railing against its restraints,” she answered as if that were a completely natural thing to say. “Oh, okay,” Amy said. “I’ve actually never been here before. I think it opened recently. Let’s see if it has anything useful.” Aside from a whole wall dedicated to glass cases displaying elaborate and impractical methods of smoking weed, there were some cacti, various semi-legal pills, and a little shelf with essential oil. “Oh,” Amy said. “We might be able to use this.” She picked up a little bottle of sassafras oil and brought it back to the counter. She crossed her legs casually as she leaned towards the cashier. The dude looked like the most stereotypical stoner you ever saw: a skinny white dude in an oversized hiphop t-shirt and dreads and a slightly absent gaze. “Ah, a connoisseur, I see,” he said with no particular enthusiasm as Amy paid. Did she just…? It might be a trick of light and shadow, but it did seem as if Amy had leaned a bit into the counter and ground herself against it for a moment before she turned around. Don’t get up to any perverted thoughts now, Adam, he thought. “I can hear you, you know,” Asha whispered and gave him a wicked smile. “Shut up.” She mimed zipping up her lips. Amy looked at them and raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. “So, what’s that, then?” He asked. “We gonna do an erotic bath before the ritual?” Amy and Asha both punched him in the shoulder. One after the other, making sure to hit the same spot, just for extra pain. The first punch was humiliating; the second punch, delivered by Amy, actually hurt. It was like they’d planned it that way. “It’s sassafras oil. It contains safrole, a precursor to ecstasy.” “Sounds illegal,” Adam said. “Knowing this sort of shop, it’s probably within 0.1% of the legal limit, but not a drop more,” Amy said and shook her head. “I don’t like this sort of shop because they don’t give a shit. They don’t care about their customers or their safety at all. Look at that dude behind the counter, he’s just hoping we’ll leave so he can go for an extended smoke break. He’d gladly tell you how to skirt the law, but would never tell you about any risks or how to minimize them.” Asha licked her licks. “Sinful, indeed,” she said, and for a moment, yellow flames flickered in her eyes. The last shop, at the end of the street, was an Indian Ayurveda shop. Amy scanned the shelves and picked up Ashwaganda, Bacopa monnieri, curcumin and piperine. “Half of this stuff is just to make you not lose your mind. Ashwaganda and Bacopa are adaptogens, which theoretically make your body more adaptable to stress. Curcumin is a pigment found in turmeric spice that acts as an anti-inflammatory and promotes antioxidants, and piperine is found in black pepper and makes curcumin more available to your body. Now we’ve got all the medicinal stuff, but we still need some of the more symbolic ingredients.” Amy crossed her legs. She was wearing a tight pair of light blue jeans that clung to her hips, and now her thighs were shaking. Adam remembered the empty water bottle. Does she have to go? “Drop it,” Asha whispered. Why? “Because she is a grown woman and will say something of her own accord. And because you like to watch and I like to watch you watching her.” “What are you whispering about, lover-boy?” Amy had straightened herself up and seemed to be back in control. “None of ya business,” he said, favoring her with his most winning smile. “So, about that other stuff?” “Well, we got the medicine done, now we need the symbols. The rat’s tail is one, but we need several more things that are probably gonna be disgusting, but go in the brew because they represent an idea, not because of their physical properties. And we’re gonna have to find the proper substitutes. Do you think we’re going to find a lion’s paw anywhere?” “Courage,” Asha said. She had her eyes closed. “It represents courage, does it not?” “That is one of the traditional things signified by the lion, yes,” Amy said. “But it could be something else… If we get it wrong, you’re screwed.” “I know for a fact that we will find a symbol of courage to put in your brew before midnight,” Asha said, and the way she said it—with a small wreath of fire which he let slip out of her mouth, out the side, licking her lips, smiling, then sent up her left nostril, which began smoking—made it clear that this was one of those mystical moments that you do not question. “Great, Asha,” Amy. “Wanna share some details?” “She doesn’t,” Adam said. “Not right now. What else?” “We gotta capture a live frog.” Amy shrugged. “I don’t know how the fuck to do that, but how hard could that be? This is one of the ones where I think we should go with the literal interpretation, because there’s too many possible things a live frog could stand for, and I’ve seen wild frogs around the ponds in the park this past week.” Turns out, capturing a live frog with a net on the end of a long pole is far harder than it sounds. They had been at it in the park for three hours, and although there were many ponds and most of them had frogs or at least tadpoles in them, catching one of the little buggers was proving to be near impossible. Once, Adam almost caught one, but it managed to jump into the water just as he was flipping the net around to bring the frog-fucker out of the pond. The sun was setting, and although they had a good few hours until midnight, they wouldn’t have many more with enough light to actually catch a frog. By this point, Adam noted that even Asha was squirming subtly, and his own bladder was also sending signals that he really out to go pee soon. Amy, on the other hand, was frantic. Whenever she thought he wasn’t looking, she was desperately clutching herself between the legs. Normally, Adam would have enjoyed the show and let it go on until its natural end—she was an adult and although he wouldn’t prevent her from going to the restrooms, which were located near the other end of the park, she was old enough that he felt no responsibility, indeed like he had no right, to make her go—but now, he was seriously worried that they’d fail the ritual because someone couldn’t catch a damned frog because someone couldn’t stop pee-dancing like a little girl. Adam felt the fury from earlier in the day rise in him, and he very deliberately counted down from ten to zero. He was determined never to lose his temper again the way he’d done earlier in the day. “Amy, this is ridiculous,” he said. “Anyone can tell you need to pee. I need to pee, Asha needs to pee, we all need a piss. We’re not gonna catch a frog before dark if we can’t keep squeezing our crotches. I’m gonna piss behind a tree, I suggest you do the same.” “I can hold it until we catch a damn frog!” Amy said, but as soon as he partially turned away from her, she clutched her hands between her legs. Adam walked behind a thick tree, which was shielded from most of the park by a series of bushes, unzipped, and released a long-awaited piss. It was glorious, and lasted a minute. Finally, the dribbling tapered off, he shook his penis and stuck it back into his boxers, then re-buttoned his pants. When he came back around, Asha was leaning against the other side of the tree, quickly removing her hand from the inside of her pants when she saw him looking. She smiled at him. Amy was crouching, both hands between her legs. “I swear, it’s like you enjoy this,” Adam said. “Just go pee.” Amy blushed. “Okay, okay, you asshole,” she said. “Help me up, Asha. I don’t think I can stand on my own.” Asha helped her two her feet, and she hobbled, both hands still between her legs, behind the tree. Adam caught her crouching down and heard the rustle of pants and presumably underwear as she undressed. “Ahh!” Amy moaned. Then he heard the sound of a branch breaking on the path, and turned around to see a worker in a reflective vest adorned with the municipal symbol and a rake slung over his shoulder ambling towards them. Amy stuck her head around the bush, blushing. “What are you kids getting up to?” The middle-aged park worker asked. “Not getting into trouble, I hope?” “Catching butterflies,” Adam said, and Asha handed him the pole with the net on it. “Well, that’s good. Just don’t let me catch you playing hooky behind the bushes, eh?” He laughed, but nobody else did, and the laugh rapidly turned into a cough. “You kids behave. Park closes at ten,” the worker said, then trudged further down the road. Amy came back from behind the tree, blushing red like a tomato. Adam’s eyes were drawn towards her crotch, which had a softball-sized wet spot, still visible in the fading light. Amy caught his eye. “Stop staring, you perv!” “Sorry. I’m really sorry, Ames, but if you’d gone earlier...” “I know! I was just obsessed with getting everything ready for the ritual. I tried to cut off the flow and pull up my pants, but I couldn’t cut it off quite in time.” She was breathing heavy. The park worker was out of sight. “Better run around the corner and finish it, then,” Adam said. Amy nodded. She walked behind the tree again, and he heard the same rustle of pants and underwear being lowered, then… Nothing. One minute passed. Two. “You okay behind there, Ames?” He asked, concern in his voice. “No!” She popped her head back ‘round the tree trunk. Tears of frustration were threatening to overflow as she came back, her pants still unbuttoned but pulled up. “I can’t go! I’m pee shy, okay? It’s like once that guy showed up, somebody cut off the flow and I can’t open it back up again! She put a hand between her legs again as one tear began its trek down her cheek. “But I can’t last much longer! Adam, what am I gonna do?” “Would you like us to leave you alone? What can I do to help?” “There!” Asha shouted. Adam swung around to see her depositing a live frog into the glass jar of water they’d brought, then pop on the lid into which they’d nailed a few air holes. He turned back around towards Amy, who’d clearly lost control for a moment when Asha surprised her. The wet spot now extended another inch down her left thigh. “No, it’s...” Amy said. Adam stepped up and took hold of her shoulders. “If you don’t want to, I won’t. But if you don’t say anything, I’m going to lead you behind that tree and help you finish your business, okay?” Amy nodded. He held one arm on her shoulder, the other squeezing her hand, as she waddled behind the tree. “Okay,” Adam said, rubbing her back, “now you just lower your clothes and then...” Amy ripped down her jeans, but before she could touch her panties—light blue, with a teddy bear adorning her backside—she exploded. A stream of urine shot through her panties, arcing so far Adam had to jump aside, pattering loudly onto the leaves and soaking into the dirt. Feeling more than a little guilty, Adam hooked a finger on the inside of her panty leg and yanked the whole thing down, but it was too late. The pastel blue was already see-through, although it was now sitting at her knees, and Adam continued to rub her back as she peed. “I’m—I’m sorry,” Amy said, as she pulled her soaked panties up. There was a large puddle between her legs, and a little bit had splashed up onto her white socks. Adam tried not to look between her legs, where the contours of his friend’s sex were clearly visible. “I really couldn’t hold it anymore. I just… I thought I could hold it.” “It’s okay,” Adam said. “It was a little silly, but we’re all a little silly, aren’t we, Asha?” Asha poked her head ‘round the tree trunk, holding the trapped frog in her right hand. “Oh, my,” she said, looking at Amy’s soaked backside. Amy turned around, blushing, but her eyes were dry. “I’m sorry,” she said. “This was so dumb.” “Well, you already saw me piss myself,” Asha said, shrugging. “More importantly, you just gave us our final ingredient.” “What the hell?” Amy looked confused. “The panties,” Asha said. “They represent your courage. Standing before us, like that, and not breaking into tears.” “I don’t understand,” Adam said. Amy blushed. “No!” She said. “You’re not saying what it sounds like you’re saying.” Asha nodded. “You want to drink my piss? You dirty slut demon, get away from me, you ugly bitch...” And Adam had to grab her arms and hold her tight, now standing with her dripping genitals on full display and her wet panties around her ankles, to prevent her from punching Asha. “They’ll dry out before the ritual. Do you think we’ll get a better reflection of true courage tonight than this? Standing disgraced in front of your best friend, looking him in the eye and not being ashamed?” Amy fixed her gaze on him, her lip trembling, but she held. “Okay,” she said. “You saw me disgrace myself. Still wanna be my friend?” “It’s not the first time,” he said. “What do you mean?” “Nothing, I’m sorry...” “What do you mean?” She yelled. “I mean… I know you wet yourself when the hell-hounds showed up.” She blushed. “I… Yeah.” “I didn’t want to say anything.” “Well, now I know.” She sighed. Looked down at her wet underwear, shook her head. “Okay. What now?” “Now,” Asha said, and in one swift motion, before anyone could react, she had taken hold of Amy’s wet panties and ripped both sides off, leaving her fully exposed, “we prepare for the ritual.” Amy scrambled to cover herself between her legs, blushing, too embarrassed to say anything. Adam chose this moment to respectfully walk around the other side of the tree and let her pull up her damp jeans in peace. “What about you, Asha? Don’t you need to piss?” He asked. “I do,” she said. “But I can wait a while longer. Let’s go!” As it turns out, they would find a better symbol of courage, but they couldn’t have known that. They spent some time wandering around the park, carrying our herbs, the live frog in a glass—looking miserable, the little fella did, and he felt a pang of sympathy for him, or her—and their cookpot and portable Primus stove. “So,” Adam said, as his phone buzzed to remind him the park was closing, “where are we going to do this?” Asha was right behind him, squirming and holding herself. He didn’t comment. He’d learned she’d just as soon bite my hand off as kiss me with tongue, and didn’t know which one would be more embarrassing in front of Amy. “I’ve been thinking,” said Amy. “We’re trying to literally pierce the veil separating this plane of existence and the next, right?” She looked over at Asha. “Something like that, mortal.” “What better place than a cemetery?” “Oh, no,” Adam said. “We’re not going to a fucking cemetery to do black magic. No, ma’am.” “Hear me out, Adam. I know cemeteries freak you out...” “They don’t! But the combination of cemeteries, midnight, full moon, black magic and creatures straight out of hell chasing us? Who’s to say the dead themselves won’t rise from their graves and eat us alive?” “They will not, mortal,” Asha said, spitting something on the ground. A leaf formerly attached to the stick she now had between her teeth, it appeared. “How do you know?” “Because I come from a land of death, mortal, and if they could rise of their own accord, right out of their graves, do you truly believe I would not know?” He shook his head. “Okay, so, like, the nearest cemetery...” “Just past this block. Saint Joan’s Cemetery.” “Wait, like, Joan d’ fucking Arc?” “No,” Amy said. “Blessed Joanna of Portugal.” “Good,” Asha said. “She’s not one of the real ones.” “Real what?” Adam asked. “One of the real saints, dear,” Asha said, patting him on the head. “Otherwise, we might have a problem.” I’ll ask you later, demon. “You will not,” she murmured. It was almost eleven when they arrived at the cemetery. It looked like any graveyard Adam had ever seen. A few sturdy oak trees, lots of grass bisected by gravel paths and dotted with gravestones. He saw a couple of small buildings that might be family mausoleums in the distance, and further still, a small chapel. They made their way towards the center of the cemetery. Adam sat down on the gravestone of a woman named Eleanor Santorini. She’d been dead these past seventy years and he doubted she’d mind. It was now fully dark, and a cloud was slowly receding from the full moon, allowing some meager natural light to illuminate their surroundings. “So, now we wait,” he said, grateful for the reprieve. Asha stood, legs crossed, by his side, her head twitching to and fro as if listening to something that was beyond his hearing, but aside from her obvious need to relieve herself, she seemed calm. That is, until they all heard a heartrending cry that could only signify one thing: hell-hounds. Many hell-hounds. They had forty-five minutes left until midnight. Squinting his eyes, Adam could see the silhouette of one of the lumbering beasts, like a monstrous ox with a canine head, about a hundred yards out, near the entrance to the cemetery. The hell-hound raised its black head and howled. Its fellows would be converging on their location. The singular hell-hound took a few tentative steps towards them. It was now at a distance where, if it chose to charge, it would all be over in less than twenty seconds. Still, it stood there, its shape now less diffuse, stomping its foot into the ground and howling for its pack-mates to come join the hunt. Adam looked at Asha. Her eyes locked with his. “What do we do?” He mouthed. “Do you know, Adam,” she asked, “why necromancers in the old stories bind demons?” He shook his head. She rose, and now yellow and blue and green flames were playing around the contours of her hands, her face, her feet, her knees and elbows. “Power!” She said. Except it wasn’t a word. It was like the sound of a rock slide, coming down a mountainside to devour an army. He realized she wasn’t speaking English, either. She was speaking hell-tongue. The language of the incantation that had started it all. “Uhagarrukh!” She thundered. Power. “Power over life and death.” Adam could see Amy in his peripheral vision. She was cowering behind a gravestone, clearly unsure whether to flee the hellspawn in front of her best friend or the one blocking the exit to the cemetery. “A necromancer commands life and death,” Asha intoned, in that strange language of hers. It was a sequence of clicks, of hisses and pharyngeals and ejectives. And something deeper: the sound of magma, deep down below the earth’s crust, waiting to escape, eager to devour the living. But he found himself, strangely, calmer than he had been a moment before. He felt her pull at the mental leash, and he felt it hold. “Power over the living, and power over the dead,” Asha intoned. “I don’t know anything about death magic!” He said. “I’m not a necromancer!” “This isn’t death magic,” Asha said. “That’s where you’re wrong. A necromancer does not draw on death. A necromancer is alive, gloriously alive. It is the union of life and death that brings such incredible power. A power which a creature purely of death and decay could never touch.” Adam began to understand. He rose, only now realizing that he had sunk down onto one knee. “Do you want to live?” Asha demanded. Her body was now a dark silhouette, much like the hell-hound’s, but hers was alight with fire, green and yellow and red and blue. “Yes!” He yelled. “Then you must give me your life,” she said, “and I will give you command over death.” Adam’s hands were shaking. “Remember this morning,” Asha said, taking his hands, very gently. “Remember the rage. What did it feel like?” “Like death.” “No!” She said, squeezing his hands harder. “It was life.” He closed his eyes for a moment and felt for that rage, that anger, that fury. It was white-hot, smoldering, and in his mind’s eye, the heat took hold and roared like a bonfire. “Yes,” he whispered. “Yessss.” “Will you give me your life, that you may command death?” She whispered. “Yes.” Before he could regret it, she had bit him. She took a bite out of his throat, and a searing hot pain threatened to take hold of his consciousness and put it out like a glass over a candle, blocking the air out. He took an unsteady step, feeling viscous hot liquid sliding down his Adam’s apple, down his shirt onto his chest. He opened his eyes. Asha was in front of him, hovering in the air, a wreath of fire around her scorching his eyebrows. The hell-hound charged. It was over in three seconds. One moment, the monstrous shadow-ox with the head of a bulldog was running towards them. The next, Adam was splattered with black and red goo as the thing met its end at the point of a blade made of fire, extending out of Asha’s hand like she’d been carrying it all along. She hung in the air for a moment, hands both pointed downwards, trembling, the two halves of the deceased hell-hound falling to each side of the flaming sword, smoldering in the grass. Adam found himself worrying, absurdly, that the dry grass might catch fire and burn them all. Asha collapsed to the ground. He stumbled over to her, managed to put an arm under each of her armpits and lever her up. “What do we do now?” He asked. “Run!” Asha said. He looked for Amy. She was gone. Oh, no! “Over here!” Amy yelled. She was standing by the door to one of the mausoleums, holding the iron door ajar. “It’s open!” Half walking, half stumbling, leaning on each other for support, the two of them made their way inside the mausoleum, passing under a peer of laughing stone-cut gargoyles. Amy closed the door and locked the heavy wooden bar on the inside in place. “If you could do that, why didn’t you do it before?” Adam demanded. “I wasn’t sure if you would survive it,” Asha said. “And you did command me not to hurt you.” The pain from the wound in his neck pulsed, reminding him his mortal body would have its reckoning. Flush with adrenaline, it would have to wait. “Begin the ritual,” Adam said to Amy. “There’s no time left. Either it works or we’re all headed towards whatever’s worse than death.” They could hear the pack of hell-hounds howling outside. Amy poured some water into the cook pot and began hastily mixing her disparate ingredients while Asha got the portable stove going. The air inside was stifling, and Adam wasn’t sure how long they could last even if the hell-hounds didn’t break through the door. After all, who the hell thinks of ventilation for the dead? Amy poured and mixed powders and roots and oils into the pot, then, finally, threw the rat’s tail, her soiled panties, and the live frog inside. “You’re going to cook it alive?” He asked. Amy raised both her eyebrows. “You got a problem with that? Wanna go outside and have a diplomatic chat with those monsters from hell instead?” He shook his head. Amy took the handle of the hunting knife she was holding and whacked the frog on the head when it attempted to jump out of the boiling water. Turns out, frogs don’t like to boil alive, whatever your biology teacher told you. The frog sank down into the disgusting stew. Amy wrapped her hands in the sleeves of her sweater, then lifted the pot off the stove, losing hold with a curse before she could properly set it down on the stone floor and spilling a good quarter of it. “Fuck! Should have brought a cooking glove.” It was now ten minutes before midnight. The door shook violently, presumably as one of the hell-hounds tried to bash it in, but it held. For now. Amy lit some candles, placing them at the points of some geometric figure to complex for him to understand. He put a hand on his neck, feeling the slow flow of blood leaving his body. He was light-headed. “Stay with me,” Amy said. “Five more minutes, then the brew will be cool enough to drink.” Adam lay down. Asha took his head in her hands. “Bide,” she said. “Do not leave the land of the waking just yet. Bide.” He heard Amy unsheathe the knife, heard a little snip, tried to move to prevent her from cutting Asha, but it was no use. He felt a hot bowl touch his lips. “Drink,” Amy said. “Try not to throw up.” A foul liquid, the consistency more like porridge than soup, dripping down his throat. It threatened to rise, but he closed his mouth and swallowed, counted, one, two, three, then accepted another gulp. It went down, and stayed down. Asha presumably did the same. He heard her coughing, but he couldn’t even open his eyes, let alone move to assist her. He felt a finger touch his lips. It had a sticky substance the taste of copper. “Blood of mine,” Asha intoned. Amy stuck a finger to his neck, then she prompted him, and he managed to croak, “blood of mine.” “Say with me,” Amy said, far away. The howling of the hell-hounds was a constant backing track. He heard something heavy collide with the door again, but since nothing tore into his throat, he assumed the door held still. “Say with me,” Amy repeated. “Ah-ushukh diniyahhah...” “Ah-ushukh… Dini… yahhahh...” There were more words. His lips formed them, but his ears were no longer capable of hearing them. Finally, silence. Adam felt the leash between him and Asha stretch, grow taut. She was pulling away from him. And then… it fell off. It didn’t snap in the middle from the force exerted on it. It simply unknotted itself on both ends, by mutual agreement, and then it was gone. She’s free, he thought. Free and gone forever. I’ll never see her again. Then she was on his throat, tearing at him. For a terrifying moment, Adam thought he was going to die. He opened his eyes, looking into the red eyes of his demon, the demon he’d bound against her will, the demon who was now going to murder him for what he’d done to her. The demon he just might love. Then she planted a big, sloppy kiss on his lips. The howling of the hell-hounds was gone. He heard nothing but his breath, ragged; and hers, and somewhere in the distance, Amy’s. “Oh, Adam!” Asha said. “I’m still here.” “I don’t understand,” he said. “I’m still here, but the hell-hounds are gone. I’m here, with you.” That was the moment his body decided to have its hour of reckoning, and promptly, Adam lost consciousness. tevoka, Sake, amugeR and 6 others 9 Quote Link to comment
Melificentfan 1,215 Posted August 17, 2019 ✨ Legendary Member Share Posted August 17, 2019 Omg that was amazing Quote Link to comment
bestrapperalive 183 Posted August 19, 2019 Share Posted August 19, 2019 Mmmmm :))) Nothing like a back rub behind a tree to overcome pee shyness, eh? But it gave us a very odd symbol of courage Asha’s bladder during this whole thing strikes me as an unnfired Chekhov’s gun... but maybe that’s just my own perverted desires. Overall, loved the conclusion. The whole sequence of the graveyard was really excellent. Also your knowledge of herbs is impressive. I knew some of those words :P i hope the epilogue is as sappy as possible ;-) and wet :P Quote Link to comment
satyr 1,314 Posted August 19, 2019 Author Popular Post Share Posted August 19, 2019 8 hours ago, bestrapperalive said: Mmmmm :))) Nothing like a back rub behind a tree to overcome pee shyness, eh? But it gave us a very odd symbol of courage That sequence was a little rushed, but it's too late to edit the post now. (Also, thanks for your support!) I've improved on it a bit in the final edit, however. There is a final edit! I've finished this thing. It took me five months to write. 35.500 words, or 82 manuscript pages. 4/5ths of a short novel or 1/3rd of a longer one. It's finished. Below is the epilogue. But first: I've cleaned up the formatting and made a couple of minor edits, and the best way to read the whole thing is probably via PDF: asha.pdf. I also made an ePub version but the formatting might be a bit wonky: asha.epub. If anyone reading this was on the fence, well, now the whole thing is finished, and it's nicely formatted if you want to read it somewhere other than on the forum. On to the sappy, sopping epilogue! Epilogue: Going to Church “Hey, asshole.” Adam opened his eyes. He was in a hospital bed, a bandage wrapped around his neck, with an IV drip going into his right arm. Judging by the light streaming in through the blinds, it was somewhere between late morning and early afternoon. “I was afraid you were going to die on me. That just wouldn’t do.” Amy was sitting on a chair next to his bed, her face red and puffy around the eyes. “Thanks.” Adam said, not knowing what else to say. “Don’t think just because you saw me naked one time it’s okay for you to flirt or think dirty thoughts about me,” Amy said. “Amy, you know I love you, but you’re like a sister to me,” Adam said. She clenched her fists together and for a moment she looked like she might punch him, but seeing his condition, she unclenched. “Don’t lie to me, Adam. You never saw me like a sister.” He tried to rise, but quickly found his limbs had no strength, so he simply sank back into bed. “Okay,” he sighed. “I’m going to admit something you probably already know. I used to have a big crush on you. But nothing happened between us, so I was happy just being your friend. Sometimes you’d do something irresistibly cute and I’d feel it tug at my heartstrings, but overall I was happy being your friend. That was before I met her. Now, I wouldn’t care if you flashed me, even if you offered.” Amy crossed her arms. “Thanks, dude. Just what a girl wants to hear from her best friend: I used to masturbate to fantasies of you naked, but now I got a girlfriend, so I’m not gonna do that anymore until I become single again.” “Hey,” Adam said, coughing, “that’s not what I said at all. And also, if I did say that, between the herbs and the blood loss and whatever the good doctor put in me, I think I could be excused.” Amy stuck her tongue out at him and winked. He began to laugh, but it hurt his chest, and he doubled over in pain. Amy was there immediately, by his side. “Don’t make me laugh,” he croaked. “We told them you got bit by a mad dog,” Amy said, more serious now. “It was really sketchy there for a while, but they said if you wake up, you’re not in any big danger anymore. I’ve been sitting here for hours waiting for you to open up your eyes.” “Good call,” he said. “Hey, guess whose mausoleum we ended up in?” Amy said. “Who?” “Why, the illustrious Musgrave-Lloyd family.” Adam wracked his brain, trying to make connections through what felt like four layers of cotton and haze. “Lloyd, like that opera?” He didn’t get it. “No, you doofus, not Andrew Lloyd Webber. He’s totally unrelated to them, as far as I can tell. Musgrave. As in, the author of the Daemonic Dictionary.” “Huh. That can’t be a coincidence, can it?” “I’m going to try and find out,” Amy said. “But my research will be strictly limited to books. Any, ah, hands-on experiments, I’ll wisely leave to others.” “He died with no descendants, didn’t he?” “The biography we read only said where and when he was presumed to have died. Said nothing about him having or not having descendants. Or even if there’s any concrete proof that he isn’t still alive.” “You think someone could be still alive after, what, six hundred years?” “Stranger things have happened. I’ve seen stranger things with my own eyes,” Amy said, and Adam couldn’t argue with that. Amy turned to leave. “Hey, Amy, am I really your best friend?” “Don’t let it go to your head.” “Where are you going? Where’s Asha? Amy! Amy, wait!” Amy walked around the corner and left. A terrible realization hit him. Asha might be gone. Contemplating the idea felt like dunking his heart in an ice bath. Of course, she might stay on Earth, but with the binding broken, there would be nothing tethering her to him. Why would she stay with me? I bound her, I hurt her… Then he heard a flush, and a familiar face, a familiar pair of green eyes appeared in the doorway to the adjacent bathroom. “Adam,” she said, a rare look of uncertainty on her face. Her face was freshly cleaned, but there was still some snot dripping from her nose, which she dabbed at with a paper towel, and the whites of her eyes were red. Amy’s eyes might have been red with exhaustion, but there was no doubt Asha had been crying. “I thought you were dead,” she said, at the same time he said, “I thought you were gone.” She took the chair Amy had vacated. “I do not like hospitals,” she announced. There was a strain in her voice he’d never heard before. “Don’t listen to silly doctors. You have to forgive me.” “Forgive you? For what?” She hid her head in her hands, but then she thought better of it. Her tears were all out. She looked him in the eyes. “It was a mercy,” she said at last. “What? What’s going on?” “I thought I killed you,” she said. “Look, it’s like I said: in order to defeat even one hell-hound in this state, bound to you, I needed to take from you so much life, you needed to freely give me so much life, that you ought to be dead. It was a mercy: I know that if the ritual had failed, or if it had sent me back to Hell, I couldn’t have returned that gift of life to you, and you’d be dead long before the hounds or the blood loss got you.” “How could you do that?” Adam asked. “I mean, literally how could you do that. I thought you couldn’t harm me, not seriously?” Asha shook her head. “A loophole. The alternative would have been much worse than death. It was a gamble. I didn’t know if it would work. It’s the sort of stupidity hellknights do in the dumb romances my father never let me read.” “You did read them, though,” Adam said, a smile creeping up on him. “I did. And I didn’t kill you.” “You’re my knight in flaming armor, then.” “Yes,” she said, with not a trace of sarcasm. Adam closed his eyes. Seeing her had revived his spirits, but he was still weak from blood loss and medication and whatever life-draining operation Asha had performed on him. He needed to ask the two most important questions now, before he slipped out of consciousness. “What happened last night? Why are you here, and not where you… belong?” Question one. Asha put her hand over his. “The Rite of Return forced me to make a decision. Or rather, it acknowledged a decision I had already made, perhaps. It sent me to the place where my heart was. Which turned out to be the same place I already was, right there in the graveyard, only free.” Adam opened his eyes. “And will you stay?” Question two. “I don’t think I can ever go back to Hell,” she said. “No, will you stay with me?” “Amy’s offered me to stay at her place for a while.” “Oh,” Adam said, and he couldn’t keep the disappointment out of his voice. It made sense. Theirs had been a whirlwind romance and they had not spent a moment apart since the affair began. She would want to distance herself from him for a while. Maybe the bond between them had been entirely magical and never emotional.. She squeezed his hand. “Oh, you meant, will I stay together with you, not literally, will I live in your dirty little room in your ugly house,” Asha said. “Of course.” Adam opened his eyes, tried to blink away a tear. “I’m going to go, visiting hours are almost over,” Asha said. “I will be back later. Don’t go anywhere.” As if he could. It was odd, seeing her leave the room while he stayed in it. She didn’t bend over clutching her stomach in agony, she didn’t vomit all over the floor, and there was no tug on that invisible rope that had once connected them. Asha simply strode out of the room and, blowing him a kiss, walked out of sight. Adam closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless slumber. Three days later, he was out of the hospital. At home, he was greeted by Eddie and Ryan. They thrust a pack of aspirin and a beer into his hand. “We weren’t sure if medicine or painkillers were called for,” Eddie said. “So we got you both. If you were expecting flowers, though, go fuck yourself.” Eddie gave him a big, long hug, and Ryan did the same, a little more reserved. Adam put down his coming-home gifts on the table and folded himself down onto the couch. “Thanks, guys,” he said. “I really appreciate it.” “We haven’t seen a whole lot of you lately,” Ryan said. “And then you get yourself into an accident and land in hospital. What happened?” “Got bit by a crazy bitch,” Adam said. “Stray dog?” Eddie asked. “We heard something like that.” “Something like that, yeah,” Adam agreed. “So,” Ryan said. “About what’s been going on with you lately...” Adam had had a good think about what to tell them while he was laid up in his hospital bed. These were his friends, and he’d completely neglected them while all the crazy shit had been going down. He’d settled on telling them a story that was as close to the truth as possible, but also entirely mundane. He didn’t like lying to them, and, he reasoned, if they would never believe the truth, was it not honest enough to give them an allegory that captured everything important but the details? “Look,” he said. “I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you guys. Usually, when I got shit on my mind, I would share it. I’m not fully operational yet but I’ll give you a summary of what’s been going on.” Eddie sat down in a chair facing Adam, nodding his encouragement. “So, I met this girl,” Adam said. “And it turns out she was in a spot of trouble. She didn’t have anywhere to stay and I couldn’t in good conscience throw her out on the street.” “That’s the one I met, right?” Ryan said. “Yeah.” “She’s a looker.” “Oh, she is, and so much more. Anyways, yeah, we had a bit of a thing and then she’s out on the streets, and I let her stay with me. But it turns out this thing was more complicated than I’d bargained for. There were some… family complications, and people were out to get her and hurt her. I got caught up in that and didn’t really know how to focus on anything but the next crisis coming along. Anyway, that stuff’s resolved now. It’s over.” “I hope you went to the police,” Eddie said. “If these people, her family members or whoever, were really out to hurt her.” “It’s been dealt with by the appropriate authorities,” Adam said. “It’s done. No one’s going to hurt her, or me, or you, or anyone else who gets close to her.” “We heard you guys fighting,” Eddie said. “Oh, yeah. We’re a match made in Hell. But fuck me, I fell for her. She’s not getting rid of me and I’m not getting rid of her, so you’ll probably be seeing her around. I found her a place to stay with a female friend of mine until she gets sorted.” “Were you really bitten by a random wild dog?” Ryan asked. “You didn’t fall on some sword or get caught up in some gangsta shit to protect your lady love, did you?” He slapped Adam on the shoulder, a friendly gesture between mates, except Adam was still weak and had to suppress a wince. “It was a mad bitch, like I said. Crazy fucking coincidence. Although truth be told, being laid up in hospital wasn’t so bad. Let me clear my head. Well, once they stopped giving me painkillers, anyways.” “Glad to have you back,” Eddie said. “The moment you’re recovered, you and me are popping some cold ones and shooting some hoops, eh?” “Looking forward to it.” And that was how Adam got back in with his housemates and friends. “I’ve been thinking,” Asha said. It was end of semester, nearly three months after the Rite of Return. They lay curled up together in his bed, staring up at the dirty ceiling. She had her hand on his hip, and he had one arm around her shoulder, and their legs were intertwined. “Your lease is up soon, right?” “Yeah, but Ryan and Eddie are thinking of renewing and I’m probably just gonna be staying on with them. It’s not much, but it’s been home for two years and I could stand to make it three.” “I’ve been thinking we should find a place and move in together,” she said. It was honestly what he’d been longing for, but he didn’t feel like he had any right to ask. They’d been dating all this time, and had navigated that odd state of a relationship were circumstances push you to become very intimate, very fast, and once the dust settles, you have to figure out if you actually like each other or if you just got caught up in a whirlwind romance. They’d found they did. But the fact that Adam, although unintentionally, had forced her into that intimacy still weighed on his mind. He’d resolved not to ask her to make any further commitment to him until she was ready for it. He had no right. Now she was asking the question he’d been burning to ask her for the past month. “Don’t you like living with Amy?” “Love it. But I’d love to live with you more. Also, I think Amy needs her privacy, but she’s too polite to say anything. There’s a side to her that she can’t bring herself to reveal to anyone—not to me, or to you, or to Peter. She needs privacy to live that side of her life until she finds it in her to reveal it to someone she cares for.” Adam didn’t ask her to elaborate. He knew better than to ask. Instead, he said, “I’d love that. Moving in together. If it’s what you want.” “Silly mortal,” she said. It was her pet name for him. Truth be told, they didn’t know if she was mortal or not anymore. She could still make flames dance across her eyes or her fingertips, and Adam suspected there were things she could do still that would terrify him. Asha was still finding her way in this world, and sometimes, she would wake him up, mumbling in distress, and she’d tell him she had a dream of the old country—Hell—and say no more. She’d given up everything she ever knew to be here, with him, and he wasn’t about to forget it. In many ways, she’d taken to mortal life quicker than he’d expected. Asha was technically an illegal immigrant, with no ID, no passport or citizenship, albeit from another dimension rather than a foreign country. But she could be very, very persuasive. Preternaturally so. Soon after she moved in with Amy, Asha got a job as a waitress, and she brought in a lot of tips. Unreasonably high tips. He didn’t ask and she didn’t offer to elaborate on how she swung that. Nor how she procured a bank account with no legal identity. One day, she showed him her new driver’s license, in the name of Asha Pride, with her picture, and his year and date of birth. “Do you even know how to drive a car?” He’d asked. “No,” she’d said, “that’s what’s so fun about it! You get to teach me. On the open road, without a learner’s permit!” “Yeah, I think we’ll start off on a parking lot somewhere.” “Good. I’ll start looking for a car.” “It’s settled, then,” Asha said, pulling him back to the present. “We’re finding a place and moving in together. It’ll be just like old times!” She gave him a peck on his cheek. “Does that mean I have to clean up your piss all the time?” She gave him a look. “Only when we feel like getting naughty. I know you enjoy it,” she cooed. Well, he didn’t exactly enjoy the cleanup, but he did enjoy the part that came before. “Also,” Asha said. “I want you to take me to church on Sunday.” “What? Are you taking up religion? Don’t tell me you’re planning to burn it down.” “None of the above,” she said. “Look, remember the thing that used to happen to me whenever someone invoked the name of the Lord?” Adam shuddered. He could see it in his mind’s eye. Her skin warping and bubbling, as if someone had poured boiling water onto the layer between skin and bone. “That doesn’t happen anymore,” Asha said. “Try it.” “Jesus Christ. God.” He looked over, and she smiled back, her skin perfectly smooth. “Allah. Buddha. Odin. Shiva. Yahweh.” He struggled to recall any other gods or god-like beings he could invoke, but she cut him off. “See? Nothing happened.” She licked her lips. “And so I was thinking, what if one of our friends gets married? Or, Satan forbid, you get in a terrible and utterly unpredictable car accident while teaching me how to drive, which I miraculously survive because I’m me and I’m amazing, and then your next of kin decides on a church funeral?” She fixed her eyes on his, and this time, she was serious. “I want to know that I can walk into a house of worship and when the worshiping is done, both I and the house will still be standing. Not because I like churches, but because maybe there will be an occasion where I’ll want to be there because of the other people I care about that will be there. And I want you to go with me and get me out of there if something goes wrong.” “Okay,” Adam said. It made perfect sense, but it was strange, hearing it from a demon. “You won’t make a scene?” “Not deliberately. I will sit quietly in the back with my hands folded like a good little Catholic schoolgirl. I need you to be my backup in case something unexpected happens. Nobody’s done what I did, what we did, Adam. Just… Walked away from Hell, never looking back. I don’t know much more about how any of it works than you do. In fact, I’m almost certain Amy knows more than either of us.” So it was that they found themselves walking hand-in-hand to Church that Sunday. It was a warm day in early summer, and flowers and trees were blooming. It was almost too beautiful to be true. There were at least eight churches that held Sunday services they could reach on foot or by bus, but he’d picked one within walking distance from Amy and Asha’s place. Not only was the place close by, but it was also the perfect size for their little experiment. Not too big, not too small. Adam wanted to avoid being some of the only people at the service—he wanted them to sit unnoticed in the back, attracting no attention whatsoever, whether anything out of the ordinary happened or not—but he didn’t want it to be so big that, if something did happen, there was sure to be someone filming them with a phone before they could make a discreet getaway. Asha was wearing a plain white dress that went down to her knees, and he was wearing jeans and a button-down, unsure of Church etiquette. Not exactly his Sunday best, but not so shabby as to attract attention either. Adam knew that attendance for regular services had been trending down in recent years, so he reasoned that they wouldn’t be too prissy. Also, wasn’t that Jesus fellow all about taking in the poor and destitute? Hardly seemed right to turn someone away at the door for being under-dressed. They took a seat on a pew near the back. He was happy to see there were about forty people scattered about the first few rows of pews. Enough so that they’d blend in, probably not enough to incite a riot before they could make their escape if they needed to. As the service began, Asha put her hands in her lap, just like she’d promised. But soon, she was squirming, moving about silently but clearly in distress. Adam put a hand on her shoulder and mouthed an “are you okay?” Asha gave him a wicked smile, then spread her legs out and lifted the hem of her dress, giving him a look at her red panties. “I haven’t peed since last night at five,” she whispered. “Deliberately.” “Asha, that’s...” He tried to do the math. “Eighteen hours!” “Forgive me, then,” she said, and grabbed between her legs with both hands. Adam took her hand and removed it. “You can’t do that in a church,” he said, squeezing her hand tight. “But Adam, I might have an accident,” she whispered in her sweetest, most innocent voice. “Do you want me to take you to the bathroom?” “Nooo, I can hold it.” She kept her legs apart and squeezed his hand, and she let her dress ride up frequently to give him a peek, as the preacher droned on and hymns were sung. Towards the end of the service, she stifled a moan, then lifted her dress to show him a little wet spot on her panties. “You better not piss yourself in a church,” Adam hissed, suddenly worried now. “You promised not to make a scene.” “I won’t,” she promised, and gritted her teeth, continuing her hands-off struggle. Finally, the service was over, and Adam caught her hand and dragged her out the door before she could leak any more. She gave an audible moan as he pulled her up, but when he put a hand where she’d sat—still warm—it was dry. The little moan was drowned out by the general din of people rising, dressing, heading down the aisle and out into the sunshine. “You’ve been very naughty,” he said to her as they walked out of the church yard. “Do you disapprove?” She favored him with her most seductive, boner-inducing grin. “What you almost did in there was very disrespectful to those nice little church-goers. I could almost bring myself to be offended on their behalf, almost desecrating their place of holiness like that… If I wasn’t so unbelievably turned on.” They stopped in the shade of a large oak hanging over the fence from the church yard and kissed. When they broke for air, he asked her if she wanted to find a place to go pee. “No, I’d like to hold it,” she said. “But you’re bursting! You already leaked.” “Nobody will see under the dress. You know you love it when I do this. Don’t deny it.” He couldn’t, at that. They took a side road lined on both sides by tall cypress trees and reached a dead end. At the end of a little cul-de-sac sat a very small house with a lovely garden. It was flaky red and looked like it was barely larger than an ordinary one bedroom apartment, but it sat on its own lot, almost hidden behind lovingly tended bushes and trees. A sign on a brown picket fence said “Small house for rent, cheap.” An old woman stood on the porch, and she waved at them. “Oy there! Have you come for the house viewing?” She yelled, favoring them with a gap-toothed smile. “We didn’t,” Adam began. “We were just out for a walk and ended up here. We do happen to be looking for a place, but we were thinking a small apartment. Don’t think we can afford a house.” The woman came down to the end of the garden and opened the gate. “You’ve come to the right place, then,” she said. “How fortuitous. I’m looking to rent this out very cheap. Truth be told, all I want is for someone to take care of the house and the garden. Had a couple coming to see it today but they never showed up. Why don’t you have a look? Lovely young couple like yourselves, I’m sure we can work something out.” He glanced over at Asha. She was squirming, doing a very good job of hiding it, but she was surely on the verge of losing it. She simply nodded. Oh, well. This might be the opportunity of a lifetime, and she could always ask to use the bathroom in the house. “Well, I suppose having a look is free, can’t hurt, right?” The old woman smiled and offered him her hand. “Bethany Musgrave,” she said. “Not of the wealthier and more famous branch of the family, I’m afraid. Pleasure to meet you.” Well, isn’t that a crazy coincidence. “Adam Rogers.” They shook, and then Bethany shook Asha’s hand. She was shaking, no doubt from the effort of keeping herself from overflowing. “Oh, are you nervous, dear?” Bethany asked. “It’s just… This would be our first home together,” Asha said. Her improvisational skills continued to impress. “I can’t believe it’s really happening.” “Ah, young love!” Bethany smiled. “Such a pleasure to see. Don’t worry, dear, before you know it you’ll have a child and a dog and you’re wondering where the years went.” She chuckled. “Come, come. This is the garden. There’s an apple tree, and cherries, and I grow carrots and potatoes in the back, and then there’s a variety of bushes and flowers. I dare say we can work out a deal that will be more than affordable, but there’s one non-negotiable clause. You must keep the garden well maintained. I care little for cutting the grass to a specified height, but the flowers and fruit and berries and vegetables are my pride and joy. I will leave you well alone, but I will be coming by to check up on the garden.” Adam knew nothing of gardening, but if he could rent a house for the price of a tiny apartment, with such a pleasant landlady, and learning to turn his fingers green was the price to pay, he’d pay it. He shot a glance at Asha, and she was doing her very best not to curtsy or cross her legs or betray her desperation. It was adorable and hot and not what he needed to be thinking about now. “Here’s the hall,” Bethany continued. It was small, and by unspoken accord they all removed their shoes, but when they came into the living room, it was larger than he’d have guessed from the outside. “It’s bigger inside than it looks, isn’t it?” Bethany said. The space was entirely empty of non-fixed furniture, but surprisingly spacious, with a large living area and a kitchen nook that had all the necessities, aside from a fridge. “My husband and I lived here for forty years,” Bethany said. “Sadly, these days he’s not so well, so we’re moving to an apartment that’s closer to the hospital and the home nursing unit. That’s why I’m renting this out for cheap. Like I said, I really just want someone to take care of the house and the garden. I don’t see myself ever moving back here, but I can’t just part with it, you know? In a few years, if you take good care of it, I might be ready to part with it for a song and a dance. But for now, I want dependable, young, healthy people to take care of it for me. I want to know it’s still there, still being looked after, which is why I don’t want to sell and give away all my rights to come and slap a backside if the new owner’s lazy with the gardening.” She chuckled. “My husband and I moved out two weeks ago. It’s the first time I’ve been back, and being back almost makes me want to back out, but I’m getting on in years myself. I know between my own age and caring for my husband, I can’t maintain a second home to my liking.” Adam spotted Asha out of the corner of his eye, crossing her legs and bending over. He quickly redirected Bethany’s attention to the back hall, asking about the bedroom and bathroom. The two left Asha behind as Bethany showed him the bedroom, which was more than large enough for two wardrobes and a double bed, and she pointed out a large adjacent storage room which, she said with a wink, might come in handy if they ever found themselves in need of a second bedroom. The bathroom was small, but had all the necessities. Bethany showed him the small basement, which had a few shelves for storage and plumbing set up for a washing machine. All the while, she gently pried him for details of his life. He told her about his studies, about Asha’s job as a waitress. “Any experience gardening?” She asked. “None,” he admitted. “But I’m willing to learn.” She nodded and smiled, as if he’d passed a test he didn’t know he was taking. When they emerged back upstairs, Asha had composed herself. Adam could see her wiping something on the floor with the sole of her sock. Was that a little wet spot? We better wrap this up, because it doesn’t look like she’s going to ask to use the bathroom, and she can’t keep holding it much longer. Bethany walked over to the counter top and picked up a sheaf of papers. “This is a contract,” she said. “I’m willing to sign it right now and hand over the key right now if you are.” “We haven’t spoken about rent,” Adam said. Bethany offered a figure. It was barely more than he currently paid to live with two housemates, and they’d be splitting it between the two of them. “Asha?” “I like it,” Asha said, straining to put on a pleasant smile. “I really like it. What do you say, Adam?” “I’d say we take a good thing when it comes to us. I’m in.” Asha nodded. “We’re in. But are you really sure this is okay? You just met us and you’re handing over the keys, we haven’t even exchanged any money?” Bethany nodded. “This contract is for three months, with an option to extend to three years if both parties are pleased with the arrangement at the end of the summer. Sign here and here, and I’ll expect the money no later than next Friday.” They signed. Bethany dropped a key on the counter top. “It’s all yours. You’ll have to have it copied so you get a key each, and a spare wouldn’t be amiss. I’ll come by next weekend and we can get started on teaching you two how to care for the garden. Do feel free to pick and use anything that’s ripe for the picking. It wouldn’t do to let it rot on the branch or in the ground, now would it?” Adam began to thank her, but she simply shook her head. “The house is yours,” she said. “Make yourselves at home.” And she was gone. “Oh my devil,” Asha said. “I can’t believe it. We just rented a house together.” “I know,” Adam said. Asha crossed her legs and grabbed herself through her dress. “I’m about to lose it! Having to stand there and smile and be pleasant and pretend I’m not about to piss myself was so...” “Terrifying?” Adam offered. “Fucking. Hot.” “Can you walk? There’s a bathroom down the hall...” Asha moaned, and then he could see a trickle emerge beneath the hem of her dress. It spattered on the floor, transparent urine soaking into her sock, but she cut it off. “Oooh,” she moaned. “I needed that, but I still have so much left!” “Do you want to go here, or in the toilet, or…?” “Let’s go outside and see this garden I’ve heard so much about!” She bent down and began removing her socks. As she did so, she turned around and her dress rode up, giving him a good look at her red panties, which had a peach-sized wet spot extending up the contour of her butt crack. As she worked on the socks, her body shook, and another little leak emerged, teasing him as it ran down her thigh, but she managed to regain control. “Nineteen hours,” she said. “It’s gonna be a new record!” Barefoot, she ran out into the garden, and Adam scrambled to follow her. Asha stood beneath a tall tree, shielded from the road. She held her dress up, giving him a good look at her wet underwear. Her lips teasing him through the semitransparent fabric. “I can’t move,” she said, and laughed. Adam walked up, put a hand on her panties, another in her hair, bent her back towards the tree and kissed her deeply. He heard, and felt, the hiss as her dam released. Warm pee trickled over his hand as they kissed in the garden of their new home. It was a fairy tale ending if he’d ever seen one. She shuddered as he began to work her between the legs, still peeing, and before they knew it, his underwear and hers were both off. Leaning on the tree, after, he said, “I love you.” “Love you too.” “We should get married,” Asha said. “Really? Isn’t that a bit soon?” “We just spontaneously rented a house,” she pointed out. “Seems like good things happen to us when we live in the moment.” “Are you proposing to me?” “Maybe I am.” “Well, traditionally, the man would get down on his knee and offer a ring...” “We aren’t a traditional couple, are we, mortal?” “Guess not.” He shrugged. “Will you marry me?” He looked her in the eyes. “Yes.” “Great. We’ll do the civil ceremony, and then a private ceremony on All Hallow’s Eve in the woods. It’s the way of my kind. Amy can officiate.” “Whoa, there,” Adam said. “Amy’s sworn off anything to do with rituals. And you really want to get married in the woods on Halloween, like some spook?” “It’s not a magic ritual. Entirely symbolic. We can even skip the traditional blood-drinking ceremony.” “I think we’ll leave the details for later. And I’m going to insist on a ring, because that’s the way of my kind.” She leaned on his shoulder. “Love you, mortal.” “Love you, my little demon.” The old lady knew the way of the woods behind the house, and she had little trouble making her way unseen and unheard to a spot where she could listen and watch how the young couple would dispose of their new home. She did not avert her eyes at their perverse sexual games, but simply nodded to herself and stored it away in her vast memory for possible future application. Their declarations of love brought a tear to her eye, and the spontaneous engagement was the cherry on top. She popped a homegrown apple into her mouth. Seeing the young couple reminded her of her current husband, now senile and in need of care, but so vital, so lovely and so horny in earlier years. No. It reminded her more of her first husband, before he grew old and died, and before her second, who was crueler but also, like most people, eventually found his way to the eternal sleep with no illicit help from his wife. Yes, she decided. I will let them have their happiness. It pleases me to do one more good thing before I sod off this Earth. Bethany Musgrave threw the core of the apple into her garden—Asha and Adam’s garden, now—and walked off into the woods, humming a nursery rhyme that went out of style a hundred years ago. Imouto Kitten, littlebird, Sake and 4 others 7 Quote Link to comment
Sake 340 Posted August 19, 2019 Share Posted August 19, 2019 Seems almost wrong to get such a sweet ending after all that. Brilliant work. That's all I can say. Quote Link to comment
Melificentfan 1,215 Posted August 20, 2019 ✨ Legendary Member Share Posted August 20, 2019 What a fabulous story I really loved reading that Quote Link to comment
rfthawne 67 Posted August 20, 2019 Share Posted August 20, 2019 Out of curiosity did you actually have an idea for what was going on with Amy and her secret side, or just possible hints? Bismiris 1 Quote Link to comment
Bismiris 320 Posted August 20, 2019 Share Posted August 20, 2019 That ended much more upbeat than I had predicted. Quote Link to comment
satyr 1,314 Posted August 23, 2019 Author Share Posted August 23, 2019 On 8/20/2019 at 6:49 AM, rfthawne said: Out of curiosity did you actually have an idea for what was going on with Amy and her secret side, or just possible hints? Yes, I did, but I didn't want to spell it out. Here are the hints I put into the story: Spoiler Amy habitually wears childish underwear, as remarked on several times. When she wets herself in fear of the hell-hounds, it takes thirty seconds for Adam to spot any wetness on her clothes, and there's this line: "She hurriedly tugged at her skirt to lower it, apparently to hide a curious lump that seemed to have swelled between her legs." When they go to the Chinese herbalist's shop, the lady behind the counter says that Amy comes in all the time looking to "recapture her youth", even though she's implied to be early-to-mid-twenties. A bit young to freak out over her age. I think with those hints it doesn't take Sherlock Holmes to figure out what I had in mind, but I didn't want to dwell on it because that's not the story I wanted to tell this time around. However, I do enjoy Amy as a character and this universe as a setting enough that I might return to tell her story at some point in the future. That's just a tease, not a promise! I don't want to promise something I don't know I can deliver. On 8/20/2019 at 1:52 PM, Imouto Kitten said: I wouldn't call a pdf nicely formatted, but then again, I do all my writing in ASCII-formatted .txt and it'll probably be easier to extract an archival ready copy of the text from the pdf than from the forum. I confess I don't know much about making documents accessible to people who rely on screen readers. I wrote this in LibreOffice and I don't know if that software spits out any more suitable format. On 8/21/2019 at 12:05 AM, Bismiris said: That ended much more upbeat than I had predicted. On 8/20/2019 at 1:26 AM, Sake said: Seems almost wrong to get such a sweet ending after all that. Brilliant work. That's all I can say. I was a bit surprised to see multiple people expect a darker ending, but I'll keep that in mind when writing future stories. Managing reader expectations is an author's job, and you can't really fault readers for reading the tone differently than you intended unless they obviously fail at reading comprehension, which is not the case here, I don't think. I did tell you guys it was going to be a romance, and I had a happy ending in mind all along. While I did have a rough endpoint in mind (the graveyard scene), I didn't plan out all the lore in advance. I have half a mind to write at least one more story set in this universe, although it won't feature these characters in anything but peripheral roles. Last year I wanted to write a Halloween story, but couldn't get it done in time. I can't make any promises, because I tend to alternate between periods of extreme productivity and periods of nearly zero productivity. It's not something that I can just force. But look out for new, possibly darker stories in the future! In the meantime, thank you all for your support! Bismiris, OmoLem and animefreak256 3 Quote Link to comment
Bismiris 320 Posted August 24, 2019 Share Posted August 24, 2019 (edited) 12 hours ago, satyr said: Hide contents I was a bit surprised to see multiple people expect a darker ending, but I'll keep that in mind when writing future stories. Managing reader expectations is an author's job, and you can't really fault readers for reading the tone differently than you intended unless they obviously fail at reading comprehension, which is not the case here, I don't think. I did tell you guys it was going to be a romance, and I had a happy ending in mind all along. Don't get me wrong, I was pleased with the ending. Most of the romances I read have bittersweet endings, I was surprised to see that nothing had to be sacrificed for happiness. Edited August 24, 2019 by Bismiris (see edit history) Sake 1 Quote Link to comment
satyr 1,314 Posted August 24, 2019 Author Share Posted August 24, 2019 Well, if you count one person almost dying and barely escaping eternal torment in the afterlife, and the other person having to abandon everyone and everything she’s ever known and loved forever to go live in another dimension, to not be a sacrifice. I just didn’t heap additional sacrifices on top of that in the prologue. 🙂 Bismiris 1 Quote Link to comment
fullride 11 Posted October 26, 2021 Share Posted October 26, 2021 Wonderful story, satyr! Loved when they were in the basement/dungeon under the club when Asha volunteers to be tied while bursting, then asks Adam to increase her torment by pressing on her. So hot! Quote Link to comment
Mythos95 38 Posted December 2, 2021 Share Posted December 2, 2021 I'm just getting on this train late in 2021 but this story was fantastically written. That's a good author if I've ever seen one Quote Link to comment
theinfamousx 5 Posted December 3, 2021 Share Posted December 3, 2021 14 hours ago, Mythos95 said: I'm just getting on this train late in 2021 but this story was fantastically written. That's a good author if I've ever seen one can't help but agree Quote Link to comment
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