"Rowan, is it? Yes I'm pretty sure I've heard Selena mention you. What are you studying?"
"A Bachelor of the Arts, majoring in English with a minor in Theology, I met Selena in an English lecture." I reply, heartbroken to hear the false chirp in her voice.
Fingers clench and eyes tighten at the mention of my name. I can’t believe just how much my disappearance has altered their behaviour. My mother is quick to change the subject, eyeing Ash with seemingly genuine interest.
"You two look so sweet, how long have you been together?"
"Forever," I reply, when a fake time period refuses to materialise in my mind. At least I'm not lying.
While my mother and I discuss my love life, my parents sit together rather stiffly, as if twenty-four years of marriage were not enough to make them comfortable with one another. Their eyes never meet. Has my disappearance caused the strain?
Was I really such an essential part of their lives, that they are irreversibly changed by my absence? I hope it isn’t so, not only because it’ll make it harder for me to willingly leave them but also because I can’t bear the thought of them suffering for my decisions. It sounds selfish, but the hope that they will one day move beyond my disappearance is comforting. At least that way I can begin my new life with a clean slate and without guilt weighing me down.
"How far along are you?"
I nearly choke on my glass of water.
"Er... Five um..."
"Months," supplies Ash, taking my hand in his.
"Yes, five months," I say.
My mother smiles a little while my father eyes Ash with distaste.
My parents were never overly affectionate in public, true, but as one of their children, I’ve seen a tenderness reserved only for each other shine through on more than one occasion. Enough to believe that they still love each other as they have since they were teenagers.
Or maybe I just saw what I wanted to see?
The idyllic relationship between two people who decide they love each other enough to be together until the ultimate end. It might have been a naive notion but it was a beautiful one to grow up believing. Of course, I learnt the hard way that love isn’t all that easy to find. And when you finally do, it isn’t all longing stares and blissful sighs.
After a short time – I don’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed – sitting with my family and partaking in the forced formalities, the conversation ceases. I use the opportunity to excuse myself.
My mum directs me to the bathroom across my bedroom and as soon as I turn a corner out of sight, I duck into my room. It is almost exactly as I left it, although with a neat emptiness which I’ve never associated with my personal space. The normally messy room has been tidied somewhat, the bed dressed and the clothes which would have been on the floor have been picked up, folded and piled carefully at the edge of my bed. It’s like my mother hoped that by preserving the imprinted memory of me within this room, I would suddenly walk out of it, as if I’d been hiding in the cupboard the entire time.
I skim my fingers across the varnished wood surface of my dresser and rub a smudge from the mirror behind it. I treat everything I touch with absolute reverence, like it's all part of an ancient tomb, the prized possessions of a departed soul. Oh, I know that I am still Selena; but I’m a different version of her, reborn from the ashes of this old life. Freedom beckons while the chains of my past sing sweetly to me, attempting to entice me back into their iron hold. Their fingers of nostalgia grip tight my throat and I can barely breathe. I love my family but this existence has stifled me all these years. I want to be free! But still a terrified part of me wants to be imprisoned, here where it's safe.
My hand brushes against a thin knotted rope, lying in the dust coating my dressing table. I lift up the black leather necklace and rub my thumb over the silver pendant that is attached to it. It’s a two inch long ankh, the Egyptian symbol of eternal life. Next to it lies another, longer necklace with a gemstone looped through it. It's carved into the shape of an angel and is made out of a stripy brown stone called tiger’s eye.
I used to wear both these pendants every day, only ever removing them to polish them. The ankh’s necklace can be adjusted to fit snugly against my throat while the strap which holds the angel is long enough so that it disappears between my cleavage. I study the pendants for a time and am struck by the startling relevancy of them both. The tiger’s eye stone which symbolises grounding and protection; is my Asmodeus, a strong, dark angel of the earth. Even the ankh has a parallel; as farfetched as immortality seems, it’s been confirmed by lover. My soul is as ageless as his body.
Is this yet more proof that I am destined to be with him?
As I’ve done countless times before, I slip both necklaces on, adjusting the ties on the ankh’s cord so that it tightens around my neck and leaving the angel hanging low on its cord. The pain in my throat lessens somewhat at the familiar weight of them on my neck. Perhaps there are some things that need not be discarded from my old life. I have a great many possessions – most of them material or sentimental – but only three which I prize above anything else. Two of them hang on my neck at this very moment, while the third dangles above my pillow.
It’s the dream-catcher which has guarded my dreams since I was ten, from nightmares which used to showcase not goblins nor ghosts but killers with knives, intent on pursuing me to the ends of the earth just so that they could end me. Were those glimpses of my other life? Bitter reflections of my own death?
I shudder, climbing onto my bed, needing to run my fingers over the wind-chimes dangling off the dream-catcher and to hear their delicate clinking. The sound is as reassuring as ever, enough to banish cold thoughts and waking nightmares. I want to take it with me, just as I intend to keep the necklaces, but I resist; the loss of such a trinket would be noticed by my parents. Unlike the pendants, it was my father who bought the dream-net for me, after childhood gave way to youth and I was too old to still be disturbing by parents after every nightmare.
"What," A voice at the door stops my heart, "Are you doing?" My father is neither cold nor cruel but my fiery temper was inherited from him.
I step off the bed, moving slowly, a frightened child backing away from a snarling beast. He's caught me encroaching his territory and he is fuming beyond measure.
"I think it's time for you to leave." Each word is clipped short and sting like lashes of a whip. I wish in this moment that I can tell him the truth, just so that his anger can turn into relief. But I have made my choice.
"I didn't mean to offend you Sir, I just wanted to feel close to home," I explain, as best I can under the circumstances, "Selena is the only family I have and I feel... lost now that she's gone."
"Go home to your parents."
"They are gone too Sir, have been for a long time. When Selena spoke of you to me, I liked to pretend that we were sisters and that you were my parents too."
I'm making him uncomfortable, I know. I need him to see though, that I mean no harm. I need him to look at me with something other than a guarded annoyance.
"I think it's time for you and your boyfriend to leave."
He eyes my belly - which I tried to hide somewhat with a flowing top - with deep disapproval and waits by the door, insistent on following me out.
Releasing a choked breath, I file past him, trying to quash the sobs that attempt to escape.
Back at the lounge, I can't say I'm all that surprised to see that 'Ash' has already charmed my mother and sister with his good looks and infallible grace. My brother, on the other hand, looks ready to throw a punch.
Ash is laughing at something I must have missed while being ushered out of my own bedroom by my father. His laugh is subtle yet honest, his eyes crinkle at the corners on his borrowed face. The glamour he wears makes him appear younger than he looks in his true form but the sharpness in his eyes hints at a wisdom beyond that of face so young.
I believe that this is what makes my mother like him so, but it's also what has my father on edge. If we don't leave soon, I worry that he or my brother will snap and the last thing I want is either of them getting hurt trying to wrestle a demon.
"Thank you for your hospitality Mrs. Sastri," I say to my mum before dad can ask me to leave again.
"Oh you don't have to leave so soon sweetheart, we've only just met you! Selena would have wanted you to stay longer."
The others cringe when she says my name. It's all still too raw, too frank. But my mother believes that I'll be back soon, that I've run away. She's in a different stage of denial than my father. He believes that I need to be found before my captor kills me.
I insist that we go, watching my father shoot us daggers as Ash and I walk towards the door. It's time to leave them forever, but I can't bear the thought of ending it like this. The problem is, I don't know how to fix it.
Ash's hands twitch beside me, his back turned away from my dad. Something glints in the light but I miss seeing what he holds as he turns back toward my family.
"Mr. Sastri, I know this may seem inappropriate, however it was our intention to present this to you and your family upon our visit. It seems that Rowan has forgotten to mention this. You may not know us very well, though I assure you Selena does and it would mean everything to Rowan if you would be so kind as to attend our wedding in her stead tomorrow."
We all stand speechless as Ash hands my father a thin tablet of sorts. It's made out of a deep purple-blue stone - which I recognise as a star sunstone - with specks of sliver dotted throughout. It's as if he sliced a piece from the night sky and made it solid, carving words onto it to turn it into something unexpected.
"No." Dad answers, skimming over the words quickly before thrusting the invitation into my hands.
I look down at the thin stone slab and run my fingers over its face, smooth all over except where the words have been beautifully carved. It's addressed to 'Selena and Family', announcing the union of 'Ash and Rowan' and indeed boasting tomorrow's date. A surge of anger rolls through me. A fake wedding! This is not the way to extend my time with my family. It is cruel and deceitful; I’ve lied to my family enough already and I would rather not bastardise the sanctity of marriage just to steal a few more hours with them.
Ash pulls the invite from my shaking hands and offers it to my mother instead. She takes it without hesitation.
"We're not going!" My father says, his voice hard and menacing. This is the final straw for him.
Ash ignores him and addresses my mum instead.
"Please consider it at least, Mrs. Sastri, I know Selena would have attended."
My mother nods just as my father snaps.
"GET OUT!" He shouts.
I don't wait to be told twice.
* * * * *
When we finally leave my parents’ house, I’m horrified by the encounter. This was not the way I wanted to end things with them. I turn my back on Ash and ball my hands into fists. This is all his fault! He set my father on edge from the very beginning with his too firm handshake and unnatural allure. Then he drove the hammer home with all his ridiculous talk of weddings and what ‘Selena’ would have wanted. Did he ever take the time out to ask me what I want?
A car pulls up in front of us before can voice my protests. It’s fairly non-descript, not too flashy though shiny and new. A thin man hops out, dressed in a chauffer’s suit and runs around the car to open the back door. Then he waits, head bowed.
I look at Asmodeus, cocking an eyebrow. He tilts his head in confirmation and holds his arm out in an ‘after you’ gesture.
Sliding into the car is a little difficult. I hoist my heavier body onto the leather seats and drag myself over, making room for Asmodeus, he ducks in gracefully, then makes a fuss over my seatbelt, attempting to buckle me in himself.
"I know how to do it!" I hiss, slapping his hands away, "You sort out you own belt."
He settles into his own seat as soon as he hears the click of my buckle and the driver pulls away from the house. I wind down my window and avoid his gaze, feeling conflicted about today’s turn of events.
After I took the time to think about what I wanted, I decided to give myself wholly and willingly to the Demon King. My conditions were that his original promise never to hurt me must be kept and that I be given a chance to say goodbye to my old life. Small requests, I realised, considering the severity of my sacrifice and Asmodeus knew it too. He’d agreed immediately, forming the plan in which we both wore glamour to visit the human world.
He took me to a corner of his cavern which I’d never noticed was there. It led to another, smaller room, filled with unfinished art, sinister looking weapons and a pool of bubbling clay. I eyed the weapons suspiciously while he went straight to the pit. Scooping up some of the – no doubt scalding – clay with his hand, he rubbed it into the skin of one of his arms. I watched with fascinated disbelief as the area coated with clay changed its colour. The ancient magic of his shifting, swirling skin pigmentation was cloaked by the alchemy of the clay. When he rubbed some of it on me, I was surprised at how cool it was, hardening against my skin and changing me also.
I’d never seen the appeal to mud-wrestling, but smearing it over the firm shoulders and taut ass of my lover had me twitching in anticipation. And of course being lathered so thoroughly by him was beyond delicious. His large, rough hands felt the same as they always had but they looked foreign against my breasts. The pleasure they elicited within me though was so delightfully familiar that any unease I felt about our changing appearances dissolved without a fuss. The slippery mud worked wonders, the silky texture of it aiding and caressing us as we explored each other. We ended up on the floor before he entered me. I was giddy with pleasure and wound so tight with orgasmic energy that every touch and movement reverberated through me with the power of stars imploding. I could feel every pulsing inch of him under my skin and hear the sweet sound of three heartbeats pounding in my ears, two fierce and thunderous, the other quick and fragile. Our lovemaking wasn’t wild or desperate; it needn’t be for the strength of our desires. It was steady and intimate; all slow thrusts, clinging limbs and hitching gasps, and all the more beautiful for it. When we’d finally reached our mutual climaxes, we did so as Ash and Rowan.
Dark skin turned light for both of us and a little clay rubbed onto our eyelids even changed the colours of our eyes. Asmodeus’ rubies bled away into sapphires while my mocha globes froze and transformed into glittering emeralds.
We were different people, akin to our other bodies only in stature. The clay changed me into a Caucasian woman with more delicate features, tawny hair and green eyes. My lover had transfomed even more significantly, the aggressive plains of his face filled out more so that he looked less rigid than before, more approachable and less intimidating. While still exceedingly tall and largely built, the lightening of his skin and almost boyish glamour on his face made him look less severe. Certainly, he could pass for a human, albeit one whom most would think a professional athlete.
I coordinated our clothing, instructing Asmodeus until he was able to create clothes for us both which would be casual enough to let us pass through relatively unnoticed. When we were both dressed and unrecognisable, it was time to go. Asmodeus, now Ash, picked me up as if I weighed nothing and the air seemed to shimmer around us. The reds and browns I’d grown so accustomed to over the past few days, melted away and were replaced by the shocking greens and yellows of flora. We’d appeared impossibly in a secluded corner of the nature reserve across my parents’ house. Birds took off, startled by our sudden arrival, but we were otherwise unseen.
I’d assumed we’d travel back the way we came after our visit, but the arrival of the car was an unexpected surprise. What more does he have planned for us here?
Down the road from my parents’ house lives one of my best friends. When we stop in front of her house, Asmodeus wills another invitation into existence. I raise an eyebrow, how does he know where my friends live? He gets out of the car, slips it in the mailbox and slides back in before I have time to figure out what I should be doing.
"This is the home of a friend of yours, is it not? Bailey Stilo?"
"Yes," I sigh, "Though I don’t know what you’re expecting of her."
"I expect her to attend our wedding, of course."
He smiles as if he is plotting something elaborate and I roll my eyes. The memory of our sweet lovemaking fresh in my mind is enough to sooth my anger for the moment, though I still do not approve of his wedding plan. Why can’t anything ever be simple with him?
I protest as the car pulls away from Bailey’s house; I didn’t even get to see her! How am I supposed to convince her to attend my sham wedding – at such short notice too – if I can’t see her? Asmodeus, vague as ever, says that we will convince them all tonight.
He drops off one more invitation, at Rochelle Sindhal’s house, the other of two friends I would trust with my life. As with Bailey, we leave before I have a chance to see her.
When we leave Rochelle's house, I think that we'll be heading back to Asmodeus' realm. We keep driving though, eventually turning onto the motorway. We head toward the city centre using the route I take to University. The driver seems to know exactly where he's going and needs no instruction from me or Asmodeus. Now that I think about it, I don't recall Asmodeus speaking to him at all. How did he know to visit my friends? He must be one of the Demon's lackeys.
A rich ripping sound diverts my attention to the demon sitting next to me. He grips the seat with uncharacteristic tension, his eyes closed and body rigid. He's actually torn clean through the thick leather.
"Asmodeus?"
He releases a strained breath and cracks open an ice coloured eye. Then the car jolts slightly and it squeezes shut again.
I stare at him, dumbfounded, then burst out laughing!
"Oh my god! You're afraid of being in the car aren't you?"
"If one were meant to travel at such speed, one would have developed the power," he grinds out, eyes still shut.
"We're only at one hundred kilometres an hour!" I laugh, "You mean to say that teleportation is fine but a car isn't?"
"As I stated, the only modes of transportation with which I am comfortable, are those which I am capable of achieving with my body alone."
The car begins to slow down as we take an exit and Asmodeus relaxes a little.
"Then why didn't we teleport?"
"The travel link only exists between the human realm and mine. I cannot flit from one human location to another, only from the demon realm, here and back again."
We stop a little while away from the city, at the entrance of a large botanical garden. I've been here before, years ago with my family; I remember spraining my ankle after tripping over a tree root on one of the trails. It's still one of my favourite places though, surrounded by the beauty of nature, tamed though it may be. I follow Asmodeus through the reception building and into the gardens themselves.
The weather is glorious and it's unsurprising that the park is packed with visitors; families sitting on picnic blankets, children feeding ducks at the pond, teens tossing frisbees and couples strolling amongst the roses. Asmodeus takes my hand in his and we walk a quieter trail, within the sights of others but out of earshot. I wonder idly why we're here but my mind is still teeming with questions from the car ride.
"If you hate cars so much then why didn't we just travel back and flit here from there?"
"It is exhausting scattering ones atoms and making them whole again. I would not have the energy for a return trip."
"You scattered our atoms?" I breathe in wonder, remembering a feeling of weightlessness for the split second after the cave disappeared.
"I was granted the ability so that I may visit the human world whenever I so see fit. I remember a time when one could walk between points of interest without the need for chariots. Why in the Great One's name do humans insist on traversing great distances?"
"Expansion is a natural part of a developing civilisation. As a population grows, so does the space it inhabits. By your logic, even riding a horse is unnatural and humans have been riding for millennia! Yours is old fashioned thinking," I admonish.
A smile spreads on his face and he looks at me with an arrogance which belies his next words.
"You forget my love, that I am the epitome of old age. I remember a time when humans were yet too young to walk on two legs let alone break a horse. I am over three million years old."
I stop in my tracks. Three million?! It is an amount of time that I cannot even begin to fathom. Three thousand is ancient in my view, the times of Achilles and Agamemnon. Then I remember that he said he was born before the first humans and shudder to think of enduring such a lifespan. No wonder he considers a human lifetime 'but a moment'. To him it would probably seem as if the first car was invented mere seconds ago; after all, what is two and a half centuries when you have lived over three mega annum?
I suddenly feel extremely small in the grand scheme of things. Not for the first time I find myself wondering whether I have made the right choice. I am so utterly insignificant compared with the immortal who stands beside me, yet here I am, thrust into his enthralling world.
I can't believe that-
"Cease." His voice is commanding, humour gone. He places his large hands on my shoulders, holding me firmly within his sight. His eyes are hard and flash with annoyance.
I shoot him a questioning glare.
"You know what I speak of. I will not have you doubting yourself. Our ages mean nothing. I am no more superior simply because I have lived longer. You should consider yourself fortunate that you have not lived to suffer as long as I have without you."
His eyes soften and he combs his fingers through my hair.
"I love you Selena, now and for all eternity. I wish for you to know this always. You, my young love, you mean more to me than you will ever possibly fathom. I wish to be with you until the end of time. I wish to marry you, not as a ploy to allow you more time with your family, but because I want you bound to me just as surely as I am bound to you. You deserve everything you will ever desire and I intend to begin affording you these desires when we wed tomorrow, in these very gardens. Will you honour me by becoming my bride?"
He drops to one knee while I stare, stunned, and produces a gorgeous platinum engagement ring. The band curves into a sharp V point at the top and is adorned with a large red diamond. Smaller, black diamonds glitter on either side of the red one, trailing along the V, and the effect is breathtaking.
My throat closes and I nod mutely as tears drip off my chin. Distantly, I hear cheers and hoots as strangers watch my lover take my hand in his and slip the ring onto the third finger of my left hand. The V points up toward my wrist as if it is an arrowhead enchanted by Eros aimed straight for my heart.
I pull my lover up and into my arms for a fierce kiss, ignoring the wolf-whistles and cat calls from our audience. It doesn't matter that we wear unfamiliar faces because I see my King in his ice blue eyes when we break apart.
He was right of course; ever since he'd offered my parents the wedding invitation, I did think getting married to my demon was just a ploy of his to secure me more time with my loved ones. It had hurt me more than I was willing to admit. Just as I’d felt like I was a breeder to him before, a means to an end, to be used cheaply; I felt that the marriage he had sprung on me earlier was a mere convenience, a way to ensure that I stayed with him. Now I believe that he'd planned this all along and the thought fills me with such love for him that I can't stand it.
How will we convince my invited guests to attend though? Now that I know the wedding is not just for show, I am eager for them to be present.
'We will convince them tonight', he said, and while I have no idea what that could mean, I have faith in my fiancé.
Continued in Part 8
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