Chapter 1 The Demon’s Touch #3
For half a second, the spell on me was broken. I pulled my hands away and took a step back. “P-Please,” I said, trying to get myself under control. “W-What are you?”
Michael shrugged, his dark skin shimmering as if it were partially covered in scales. “To put it simply, I’m a demon.”
“Like an incubus?”
He shook his head, smiling. “Not a sex demon. But I do love sex.” He reached out, running his knuckles softly down my cheek. “I’m the kind of demon that runs a bathhouse for men of all species.”
“Wait,” I said, the realization hitting me at last. “You’re the owner?”
“That’s right.”
“And your name is Michael?” I scoffed. “Bit ironic, isn’t it?”
“Okay, you’ve got me there. That’s not my real name.” I opened my mouth to ask, but he held up a hand to stop me. “You’ll never be able to pronounce it.”
I stood there staring at him for a long moment. “So… what happens now?”
“Well, I’m not going to steal your soul or anything if that’s what you’re worried about,” Michael chuckled. “But I will make a deal with you.”
“A deal with a demon?” I lifted an eyebrow. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch.” He placed his hand on my chest before leaning in close. “Go. Enjoy the bathhouse. And, if you still crave me, then find me before you leave. I’m sure we could make beautiful music together.”
I stared at him, my heart still pounding from the kiss, from the revelation of what he actually was. A demon. I'd just made out with a fucking demon in a broken sauna. My Catholic grandmother would have had a heart attack.
"That's it?" I asked. "No strings attached?"
"None." His red eyes gleamed in the dim light. "Though I should warn you—once you've had a taste of what's out here, vanilla might not satisfy you anymore."
"I think I stopped being vanilla the second I walked through your front door," I muttered.
Michael laughed, the sound rich and warm despite his demonic form. "Go on then. Locker forty-two. Take your time." He stepped back, giving me space to leave. "And Brad? Don't be shy. Everyone here is very... friendly."
I grabbed my tool bag and practically stumbled out of the sauna, my head spinning. The hallway felt cool by comparison, and I sucked in deep breaths of the chlorine-scented air. What the fuck was I doing? This was insane. This was beyond insane.
But my feet carried me back through the roman bath—where more guys were now fucking openly in the water—and then into the locker room.
I found locker forty-two easily enough and opened it with the key on my wrist. Inside was nothing but a clean folded towel and a note telling me to leave everything behind.
I stood there for a long moment, my hands shaking slightly as I started to unbuckle my tool belt. This was a choice. I could just take my shit and walk out. Tell Kevin the job was done and never come back.
Or I could stay.
My tool belt hit the bottom of the locker with a heavy thunk. Then my undershirt, soaked through with sweat. My jeans. My boots. My boxers. Until I was standing there completely naked in a locker room full of strangers, my cock half-hard and my pulse racing.
I closed the locker and wrapped the towel around my waist. Then I turned and walked back toward the roman bath, trying to look like I belonged here. Like I knew what the fuck I was doing.
A minotaur passed me in the hallway, his massive frame taking up most of the space. His eyes raked over my body appreciatively, and he gave me a nod. "Lookin’ good dude," he rumbled. I couldn’t help but smile.
"Thanks," I managed to reply.
The roman bath was even more crowded now.
I counted at least thirty guys, maybe more, all in various states of arousal.
Some were just soaking and talking. Others were touching, kissing, grinding against each other in the water.
I spotted a vampire getting his cock sucked by what looked like a satyr in the shallow end.
I eased myself into the water at the deep end, the heat immediately relaxing my tense muscles. It felt incredible after the long day of work, after the stress of the sauna. I let my head fall back against the edge of the pool, closing my eyes and just breathing for a minute.
Sounds filled my ears that I wasn’t used to, but turned me on more than I thought possible.
I could hear the satyr grunting as he worked the vampire’s cock with his mouth.
There was another pairing echoing off the walls, definitely someone getting fucked though I couldn’t place who it was.
It was very clear they were having a good time judging by their moans.
And underneath it all was the gentle hum of heaters, friendly chatter, and water sloshing as men got in and out of the bath.
To my surprise, I felt completely at ease being right in the middle of it all.
For ten minutes I sat there, just relaxing and listening, my cock throbbing lazily beneath the surface of the water.
It was nice to take a break, to simply enjoy the haze of sex all around me.
For months I’d been masturbating just to get relief, but not really enjoying myself.
However this was pure immersion and enjoyment without the sense of urgency to get off.
And the fact that it was all men just made things more…
comfortable. There was zero pressure to talk or be impressive or anything like that. I could just exist and enjoy it.
Still, I couldn’t ignore my cock’s needs forever. So once I was feeling nice and relaxed, I decided it was time to get up and explore the bathhouse a little more and really see what it had to offer. After all, I’d never been in a place like this before. There was lots to discover.
I hauled myself out of the water, the towel clinging to my hips as droplets ran down my chest and legs. A few guys watched me go, their eyes lingering on my body in a way that made my skin tingle. I didn't mind. Hell, I kind of liked the attention.
The hallway branched off in several directions from the roman bath.
I'd come from the sauna area, but there were at least two other corridors I hadn't explored yet.
One had a sign pointing toward "Private Rooms" and the other toward "Steam Room.
" I hesitated, then headed for the private rooms. Something about the way Michael had mentioned them earlier made me curious.
The corridor was dimmer than the rest of the bathhouse, lit by recessed red lights that gave everything a sultry glow.
Doors lined both sides, some closed, others slightly ajar.
As I walked past one of the open ones, I caught a glimpse of two men inside.
There was a human bent over a bench while an orc pounded into him from behind.
The human's face was twisted in pleasure, his mouth open in a silent cry. And the orc’s cock…
well, it was as big around as my forearm and glistening with lube.
I kept walking, my cock now fully hard beneath the towel. The sounds of sex followed me down the hallway—moans, grunts, the slap of skin on skin. It was intoxicating.
At the end of the corridor, a staircase led upward. A small sign read "Glory Holes - 2nd Floor." My heart skipped a beat. I'd never actually been to a glory hole before, though I'd watched plenty of porn featuring them. The anonymity of it, the raw sexuality… it had always turned me on.
I climbed the stairs, my bare feet silent on the wooden steps. The second floor was smaller, just a single hallway with maybe six or seven small rooms on either side. Unlike downstairs, all these doors were closed, and I could hear muffled sounds coming from several of them.
I picked a door at random and slipped inside.
The room was tiny, barely big enough for one person to stand comfortably.
The walls were dark wood, and there was a padded bench against one wall.
But what caught my attention immediately was the hole in the wall on either side of the bench—roughly waist height, maybe four inches in diameter, and both currently empty.
I locked the door behind me and stood there for a moment, my pulse racing. This was it. This was really happening. I could hear movement on the other side of the wall, someone shifting around in the adjacent room.
Then, slowly, a clawed hand appeared through the hole. It beckoned me forward with a crooked, hairy finger. It might’ve belonged to a werewolf or a beast of some kind… I wasn’t sure.
My mouth went dry. I dropped my towel and stepped closer, my cock bobbing in front of me. The hand beckoned again, more insistently this time.
"Fuck it," I muttered under my breath, echoing my earlier sentiment in the sauna. I moved forward until my cock was right at the hole, and then I pushed through.
The moment I was through to the other side, I felt a warm breath ghost across my sensitive skin. Then a tongue—long, textured, definitely not human—dragged slowly from base to tip. I gasped, my hands flying out to brace against the wall as pleasure shot through me.
The mouth on the other side didn't tease. It engulfed my cock in one smooth motion, taking me all the way to the base. The heat was incredible, almost too much, and everything that tongue was doing had my knees going weak.
"Holy fuck," I breathed, my forehead pressing against the wall.
I'd gotten plenty of blowjobs in my life from men and women, but nothing like this.
The suction was perfect, the rhythm steady and relentless.
And that tongue... Jesus Christ, that tongue was doing things I didn't even know were possible.
I tried to stay still, tried to let whoever was on the other side control the pace, but my hips had other ideas. I started thrusting, shallow at first, then deeper when I felt the throat on the other side open up to take me. No gag reflex. Just wet heat and that incredible tongue working me over.