Chapter 5
The Machine That Steams and Cleans
Sepher
Humans.
My sister has often told me how notoriously prudish humans are. I can’t believe she was right. Grace avoided looking at the most important part of me until she couldn’t. Until I made sure she couldn’t. Because the more she shrank from seeing my cock, the more I wanted her to.
And the more eager I became to have her attention on me—and only me—the more willing I became to tell her things I shouldn’t. Like my name.
I should be pleased I had gotten her to look, but my annoyance at my sister being right about anything dampens my mood. Though I am beginning to understand something about her that I never have before… why she always returns to this realm when she too has an endless ocean all her own.
Humans can be entertaining, apparently. At least my human is.
My human…?
As the confusing thought floats through my head, my muscles spasm uncomfortably, reminding me of the lack of water around me and the weaker I am becoming.
“You’re right.” Grace’s eyes meet mine, her surprised expression from before shuttering. “There’s nothing holy about you.” Her voice comes out barely louder than a whisper.
I nod and curl my fins upward. “We agree. Good.”
She lets out a small, dry laugh. “Yeah, we agree.” There is redness over the skin of her cheeks and neck that was not there a minute ago. Pondering it and wondering if it has something to do with my lack of humanity, I reach out to touch her.
Her brows furrow slightly and she draws back just as my fingers sink into what feels like a thick, silky blanket. I pull my hand away from the circle's border and squint at her. “I have no intention of hurting you. Did you like what you saw?”
“What?” she asks, then her brows furrow deeper as understanding of my meaning dawns, making her cross her arms. “I’m… indifferent.”
She looks away. The blush upon her skin deepens.
Hmmmm.
Red is not a color I see outside of a hunt. It is lovely upon her. Though I prefer her blood remain inside her to color her skin this lighter shade, I wouldn’t mind tasting it someday. Sliding my gaze over her body again, I find my own body tightening, making it hard for me to flex my tail.
It’s because of the witch.
The human, Grace, is formed nicely. Very nicely.
Her parents did well in choosing each other as worthy breeding partners.
I had a good look at her upon my arrival—though her face had mostly been covered by her hands or her loose shirt—and found her long legs and dark hair captivating.
Now that she’s free of the circle's effects and her features are unconcealed before me, I appreciate her beauty even more.
However, I do not appreciate that she is no longer plastered under my body, forced to give me what I want… Her water. I shiver at the memory of it—her body’s flavorful nectar.
Reminded of her delicious flavor, I bite my tongue to stop the groan that wants to escape.
Having had a taste of her, and put her appearance to memory, I know she and this place will remain with me for countless millennia to come.
She has done something to me that is more than just unexpected, it’s cruel.
She’s unknowingly given me something to crave.
“You seem to be entirely indifferent to me while I am far from indifferent to you.” I watch as my words sink in and the hint of worry in her expression grows. “You’ve caught my attention, and the attention of a demon is not easily sated.”
“What does that mean?” Her voice is soft again as she takes another small step back.
“It means that regardless of how you answer—even though the lies you say are easily heard in your words—I now want more from you. As a being such as myself often does.”
She raises her hand at me. “Stop! Just stop.” But her cheeks are now full-blown ruby red and her breaths are short as she continues, “I need you out of here today for the house to be ready by tomorrow afternoon! Whatever you want doesn’t matter. I need you to get out of here and my life.”
“Fine.” I smile at her. “It doesn’t matter.” My cock hardening for her has flustered her deliciously. I barely keep my smile from forming into a grin. “If you want me gone, you need to finish breaking the circle. That is the only way.” Not so much a lie as a… half-truth.
Her mouth closes. She blinks and then nods. “Fine. If that will lift the restraints on your ability to leave. But I don’t trust you to not just walk out and cause havoc or hurt me. I want your promise to leave me and everyone and everything in my life alone once the seal is broken.”
“What do I get in return? I could just wait until the seal fades. Hurting the things you care about is beneath my interest. I will easily agree to that for—”
“Water, right?”
I cannot prevent my grin this time, nor running my tongue across my fangs in anticipation. “Yes… Water.”
She grabs the cup from the floor and jumps to her feet, heading straight for the side room where the sound of running water soon breaks the silence.
A moment later she’s kneeling beside me once more with the full cup in her hand.
“Here,” she says, setting it down before backing away—slightly less far than last time.
“I will take your water and your company for my promise. Once the circle is finished being destroyed and I can easily leave, you will never see me again nor will you come to harm. Does that work for you?”
She courageously glances at my cock then back up to my face and slowly nods.
“As long as you cover yourself up, I won’t argue the company part.
I have to be here anyway to finish steam cleaning.
” She sighs and flips her hair over her shoulder, and then turns and grabs a pillow off a chair and tosses it at me.
I catch it and place it over my stiff cock. “Deal.”
Her lips twitch and my eyes zero in on them.
“D-deal,” she says, hesitating as she notices the intensity of my focus.
I don’t ease up, letting myself scrutinize every little thing she does. Part of me wants her to know that she has my unwavering attention, and to be uneasy, because I’m hiding my own unease.
The little witch has become too appealing for my own good.
Enjoying the way her blush blooms and fades under my stare, I take the cup full of water from the edge and bring it to my mouth.
She watches as I tip my head back and gulp it down.
Pooling in my stomach, the water gives me some reprieve from the heat boiling within, but I know it won’t last long.
She nods again, to me or herself, when I gently toss the cup back to her side. “I guess I’ll get back to work then If I have your promise.”
This time I give her a nod.
She stands and straightens out her clothes. and as I push the steam cleaner to the edge of the circle for her to grab, and then the unattached bucket with my tail, I lie on my side and rest my head in my hand to watch her.
Wet clothes plastered to her skin, her curves are on display, her body’s true form contoured easily before me. Her shirt is blue, with a strange, colorful design on the front, and her pants are the same hue except darker and made of a different tougher material.
While Grace’s clothes don’t appeal to me, her body does.
She appears reasonably strong for a human, even for a female.
It felt good having her pressed under me, as I sometimes trap my prey.
Yet I have never noticed the bodies of my prey, not beyond something I needed to destroy.
In the case of the creatures I feed from, her body is unique. Hers… excites me in a new way.
Electrified tendrils spread through my veins, lashing at my senses. It isn’t the sensation of dehydration but something else entirely, something enjoyable. I want to feel more of it, this pressure that acts like the tide, flooding into my skin and scales in time with my heartbeat.
But as the pressure builds, so do other things. Watching her move around the room simultaneously relieves me and fills me with more of it. Pleasurable, but slowly growing more uncomfortable, increasingly stressful, like an ache that needs alleviation.
With her eyes still on me as well, she grabs the bucket and walks backward out of the room to gather more water.
Though it seems to take longer than before, I have no worries that she won’t come back this time; I no longer sense fear in her, only nervousness and curiosity as her awareness of me deepens.
If I’ve learned anything in my short time here with her, it is that she’s a host of emotions demons can only dream of. And I’m ready for some of those dreams. Right now.
Licking my lips, I stretch out when I hear the water turn off, fanning my tail to its fullest display.
When Grace comes back into the room, I’m pleased to see how easily she now handles my presence. I’m not done with her, and if she does try to flee before our new ‘deal’ is done, I will go after her. Demons have attached themselves to humans for far less.
I also see what took her so long. She’s in new clothes.
A loose-skirted dress, colored a similar dark blue to her previous shirt, tied around her waist by a thin sash of the same fabric and hung on her frame from two small straps at her shoulders.
It reaches just below her knees and sways, wavelike, around her legs.
While the skirt dances, the top hugs her tightly, showing off a hint of a black undergarment underneath.
It barely seems to fit, her chest stretching the material of the dress to its limit.
Her hair has been retied, higher on her head, its length drifting around her shoulders.
I approve. This outfit leaves her arms completely bare, and her legs too, beneath the skirt, all the way down to her feet.
The dull nails at their ends, I hadn’t noticed before, are painted black.
“It’s my mom’s,” Grace mutters as she lodges the now-full bucket back into the steam cleaner, clearly meaning her new clothes.
“I see. Why did you change?” As much as I approve of this choice, I liked her better wet.
“My clothes were wet.”
“I know,” I huff in frustration, not exactly sure why I care so much either way.
She finishes preparing the steam cleaner and looks at me, her whole body hesitating as she avoids the pillow at my middle. “They were uncomfortable. I needed to change. Nothing else of hers fits. Or is even here in her closet to begin with.”
“You are better wet, human, trust me. The dress, while something new, is not wet. You promised me water.”
She rolls her eyes, walking over and picking up the cup where it still lies on the ground.
Heading to the side room again, she refills it and places it back at the edge.
“Here.” She doesn’t look at me as she walks back over to the steam cleaner, seemingly over my goading.
“You’re going to have to move around as I vacuum.
It’s going to be a little loud. You can deal with it. ”
I pick up the cup and raise it to her. “I remember the sound.”
She keeps her eyes averted from me as she grabs the handle of the cleaner and turns it on. A loud humming noise fills my ears as the scent of lemon chemicals invades my nostrils.
Disgusting.
The air grows humid as Grace slowly rolls the machine over the circle’s edge. She pauses before her hand moves beyond its outermost border and pulls the back machine out, before pushing it in again.
Gradually, the newly moist fibers of the carpet become a lighter, pinker shade. She runs the machine over each section twice before moving on, until no color remains.
My lips part as a headiness overcomes me watching her skirt sway around her legs.
My eyes trail up her body and the pressure inside of me returns, stronger than ever.
My stomach tightens in reaction as heat blooms in my tail, behind my genitals.
The heat and heaviness expand and pushes into my sack and cock, which then pushes against the pillow I’m hiding them behind.
A cool breeze rushes into the room from the wide-open windows, gusting her skirt forward and toward me. She glances up, making sure I’m still within the remaining red of the circle before proceeding to cleanse another section, unaware of the strange phenomenon unfolding within my body.
Hypnotized by her legs and what is happening, attuned entirely to these new sensations, I forget to move even when she stops the machine, takes the bucket out, and returns with a new one.
She pauses after slipping the bucket back into the machine. “Are you okay? You haven’t drunk your water.”
My eyes go to the cup that’s still in my hand. “You’re right,” I say, staring at it. “It’s not like me to forget…”
I lift my gaze back to her, wanting to catch it and keep it—hold it so she can’t look away—and the air grows hot and dry in my lungs.
The blush has returned to her cheeks, softer than before, but just as enticing. I wish she were still crying; I’d relish another drink of tears from her reddened cheeks.
Remembering what I asked for out of our deal, I lurch up and toss the water on her face and chest.
Wet.
I want her water. Need knots my stomach.
I want her wet.
I want it all off of her body.