9. Ian
CHAPTER NINE
IAN
I stood wreathed in shadow, invisible to mortal sight as I watched Evelyn sleep peacefully in her bed. The moonlight filtering through the curtains illuminated her fair skin, Her blonde hair had worked its way out of the braid and splayed across the pillow. Her rosebud lips were slightly parted.
She was beautiful, I had to admit, in a way I’d never found in anyone before. The sensation was foreign to me, almost...unsettling. I pushed the stray thoughts aside. I had a mission to fulfill.
For the past several nights, I’d been observing her dreams, probing her subconscious for vulnerabilities and repressed desires to exploit. Tonight, I planned to escalate my efforts. It was time to fan the coals of her inner darkness into flame.
I focused my will and slipped into Evelyn’s dreamscape again and shaped the scene to the homeless shelter where that disturbed mortal, Frank, had attacked her. I directed the dream, twisting Frank’s features into a grotesque caricature. His bulging eyes leered at Evelyn as he lunged for her, voice dripping with mockery.
“You think you’re better than me, you prissy bitch?
But instead of cowering in fear, Evelyn’s dream-self blazed with righteous fury. She grabbed a heavy book of laws and smashed it into Frank’s head, sending him crashing to the ground.
“You monster,” she screamed, kicking him savagely. “How dare you touch me.”
I watched, still hidden, as Evelyn unleashed her repressed rage, and pride filled me. This is what I’d been waiting for. That spark of wrath, the first inkling of her true nature. Her screams sent a thrill through me. I had to adjust my cock as it pressed almost painfully against the zipper of my trousers. Evelyn lifted the heavy book high overhead, and brought it down again and again on Frank’s face. First his nose broke, sending streams of blood squirting down to his chin, his screams became muffled as the book continued to slam into his face.
Yes, that’s it. Let it out. That fire will burn away your piety soon enough.
It was all I could do not to pull my cock out and begin stroking it as Frank’s skull shattered, bones and brain matter flying up to coat Evelyn’s lovely face, her screams of anger still bellowing out of her lungs as she beat his head into a puddle of ichor and pulp.
Evelyn’s screams faded as she tired, and Frank’s lifeless body twitched beneath her. I sensed the moment was right. With a twist of my demonic will, I reshaped her dreamscape, banishing the violence and replacing it with a soothing atmosphere.
The grimy shelter walls melted away, transforming into the warm, inviting confines of the familiar therapist’s office. Evelyn now sat in a plush armchair, no longer towering over Frank’s convulsing body.
Human dreamscapes being what they were, another dream of speaking with me wouldn’t register as strange to her, and I found myself wanting to speak with her more.
And one should never underestimate the power of water dropping on a stone. The small pushes added up to great change over time.
I took on the now familiar guise of a psychiatrist, my normally sharp features softened, my dark allure muted. I leaned forward slightly, radiating compassion and trustworthiness.
“You’re safe here, Evelyn,” I said, pushing out a little magic to help her calm. “This is a place for honesty. Please, tell me what’s troubling you.”
Evelyn’s brow furrowed. She glanced around, obviously confused to be back here again. Even in the dream state, she would feel the deja vu of this. No matter, it would help me bend her will to my needs, shattering her righteous persona and sending her down the path of depravity I wanted. I could practically taste her hesitation, her instinct to bottle up her less-than-holy feelings. But like any skilled manipulator, I’d created an environment that compelled her to let her guard down.
“I’ve been having...unkind thoughts,” she said finally, unable to meet my patient gaze. “Wrath. Envy. I try to fight them, but?—”
“It’s natural to feel those things, Evelyn,” I said sympathetically. “You’re only human. You don’t have to fight your emotions so hard.”
Guilt flickered across her face, a conditioned response. “But I must. It’s my duty to resist sin.”
Despite the sympathy on my face, inside, I was laughing. This girl, this poor, repressed creature, had no idea what real sin was. The depths of depravity the human soul could sink to. But she would learn.
I would be her teacher.
Hiding my vicious glee behind a mask of compassion, I prepared to lead sweet, naive Evelyn down the path of temptation. With me as her guide, she would soon discover the ecstasy of embracing her true nature.
By the time I was done with her, Evelyn’s devotion to purity and piety would be nothing more than a distant memory.
I leaned in closer. “Sometimes, fighting too hard against what comes naturally can cause even greater suffering. What if, just for a moment, you allowed yourself to feel? To simply be ?”
Evelyn’s dream-self looked conflicted, but I noted the way her body language softened ever so slightly. Intrigued, despite herself.
Perfect.
I let my voice drop an octave, taking on a more intimate tone. “Let’s explore what you’re holding back, Evelyn. You deserve peace. Comfort.” I paused, letting the word linger. “Pleasure.”
The room shifted subtly around us, the warm lighting dimming to a more sensual ambiance. The very air seemed to grow heavier, laden with an unspoken tension.
Evelyn’s chair transformed into a plush chaise lounge, and she reclined into it without even realizing, her limbs relaxing as if under a spell.
I reached out, brushing a hand along the delicate skin of her arm. Evelyn shivered at my touch, her lashes fluttering, her lips parting on a soft exhalation.
Confusion and awakening desire warred in her expression, a captivating portrait of innocence on the cusp of corruption.
I reined in the temptation to push hard and fast. The intense urge to tear away that thin veneer of purity rode me, but I knew that patience would yield a far more satisfying result.
Like a master artist with his brush, I would tease out Evelyn’s repressed desires, shade by tantalizing shade. Coax that glorious darkness to the surface, until it colored her every thought, her every breath.
Only then, when she was trembling on the precipice, aching for the release only I could provide, would I claim my victory.
I sensed her vulnerability, her defenses lowered by the intimate atmosphere I had so carefully crafted. The time was ripe to press my advantage.
With a subtle shift of power, I change my appearance. Dark hair lightened to gray, sharp features softened and aged. The nondescript psychiatrist’s suit morphed into the familiar black cassock of a priest ready to say Mass, for that extra enticement of the forbidden.
Evelyn’s eyes widened as she took in the visage of Father Hudson now sitting before her.
“Father?” she whispered.
I gave her the gentle, compassionate expression that Hudson might use to soothe a troubled parishioner. “It’s all right, Evelyn. You’re safe. I’m here to guide you.”
I took her hand in mine, relishing the tremor that ran through her at the contact. Such an innocent, to be so deeply affected by a mere clasping of hands. Her dream-self’s breath quickened, a becoming rosy color blooming her cheeks.
Stroking my thumb across her palm in a hypnotic caress, I said, “You’ve been so strong, Evelyn. So devoted. But even the strongest need comfort.”
I let my touch linger, savoring the purity of her reactions, every hitched breath and fluttering pulse. There was an art to corruption, and I was a master of my craft.
The dream shifted around us once more, the chaise lounge transforming into a luxurious bed draped in silken sheets. Evelyn reclined against the pillows, her golden hair fanning out in a halo.
I moved to sit beside her, admiring how her body responded to my presence despite the protests I could practically hear running through her mind. Cupping her cheek, I traced the delicate line of her jaw with my thumb.
“Let me take this burden from you,” I leaned down until my mouth hovered a hair’s breadth from hers.
Just as our lips were about to meet, Evelyn gasped sharply, her beautiful eyes snapping open awake as she sat bolt upright in her bed. The abrupt transition from dream to reality left me momentarily disoriented, but I quickly regained my balance.
I watched, still cloaked in invisibility, as she panted, shaking, her breathing rapid and uneven. A mixture of amusement and frustration stirred within me.
So close... but you’re stronger than you look.
“Lord, deliver me from temptation,” Evelyn said, her words shaky but determined. “Forgive me for my weakness.”
The fervent prayer might have been endearing if it weren’t so misguided. Little did she know, her “weakness” was the key to unlocking the desires she kept so firmly repressed.
I observed as she rose from her bed, her white nightgown clinging to her breasts and ass in a way that made my fingers itch to explore. She moved to the small basin of water on her dresser and dabbed at her neck and face, clearly trying to cool the heat that lingered from the dream.
Evelyn seemed oblivious to the faint blush that painted her cheeks or the way her hands trembled slightly as she set down the cloth. Rather than indulging in the urges I had so carefully awakened, she sank to her knees beside the bed and prayed in earnest.
Praying against lust, I realized with a wicked grin. An intriguing thought occurred to me. She’d never had an orgasm. The revelation sent a thrill of anticipation through my veins. Corrupting Evelyn Adams would be my greatest triumph yet, and I would savor every moment of her inevitable fall from grace.
Standing in the shadowed corner of her room, I contemplated my next move.
“Seduction, then,” I said, too quietly for her to hear. Slow and sweet and so very satisfying when I reaped her innocence.
Sleep well, my sweet Evelyn. For your dreams are only the beginning.