Demoness

Demoness
A Satanic Stripper is Conjured to Demonic Duty in Medieval Paris...


For: Jessica,
My Lady Malora




Prologue
Toronto, Canada in winter. Modern day...

Running her palms down her smooth tummy Cassandra reveled in the warmth that
rose from below the surface of her skin like an internal electric blanket.

"There really is nothing like a tanning bed to keep you warm in the winter,"
Cassandra commented out loud. With a pleased sigh she rolled out of the huge
tanning bed naked, in the basement of Marco's mansion.


Turning to her reflection in the ornate, gilt mirror, she did a quick check to
be sure that she hadn't burned anything tender, like her freshly shaven mound.
Her fingertips gently touched the trimmed bush, pleased with its shape of the
inverted cross.

'Well, hey, when you're a Satanic Exotic Dancer it doesn't hurt to advertise,'
she mused. With quick, efficient movements she dressed in her tight black jeans
and favorite 'Black Sabbath' band tee shirt, then slid her sandals back on her
feet. It just wouldn't do to ruin her new pedicure by wearing shoes. She wiggled
her dark ruby toes and smiled. She took a last moment to admire the way her
sharply pointed, freshly painted fingernails matched her toes perfectly.

With a smirk at herself in the mirror, she fastened her Baphomet pendant back
around her throat. It was her night off from dancing in the club and she
intended to thoroughly enjoy it with her favorite boy-toy. Marco was dark and
gorgeous with long black curls, into the same kinky sex she was and a fellow
Satanist. He was one of her favorite people to stay with while she was in town
and not just because he had a tanning bed in his basement.

Marco's house was huge and dark and really old, like something out of a scary
black and white, gothic horror movie. The whole thing was done in black and gray
with heavily carved old fashioned furniture and dark paintings of strange people
in weird settings. Touches of scarlet were scattered here and there throughout
his home, like the voluminous velvet curtains on the huge smoked windows and the
sheets on his massive bed.

Cassandra bent over to pick up her bag from the floor when she noticed a
powerful odor of burnt matches in the air.

'Sulfur?' Cassandra thought in surprise. 'Where's that smell of sulfur coming
from?' Everything suddenly went very weird. There was a whoosh and she was
falling. Then the world abruptly went away.

Part One:
Conjured!
Paris, France in winter, the Middle Ages...

"Okay ass-hole, who the fuck are you and what the Hell am I doing in your
basement?" Cassandra snapped at the short man with a very surprised look on his
face. She was stock naked and seriously pissed.

The short guy was dressed in long black robes encrusted with golden gemstones
and heavily embroidered with mystical symbols in gold thread. He didn't look
old, but no one in the world would ever called him good-looking. His dark greasy
hair was spiked as though he had slept on it and his face was none to clean.

Barely able to peel his eyes from Cassandra's naked golden form, he turned to a
huge, black leather-bound book sitting on a narrow wooden podium beside him.
Flipping hurriedly through the oversized pages, he found his passage then
mumbled something in what sounded an awful lot like heavily accented Latin and
really familiar.

Cassandra felt a shifting in her head; as though her brain was moving in her
skull then suddenly she understood everything he was saying.

"...I invoke you in the name of Lucifer, Lord of Blood and Darkness to obey my
commands Oh, Demoness of the Pit," he finished with a flourish.

"What the Hell?" she said with a start, then looked around sharply. She was
standing atop a wide circular platform inside a complicated design that looked
suspiciously like a conjuring pentagram. She'd seen something like this in a
book she had at home, but this particular pentagram was glowing with lots of
different colors, and it was moving. The circles and complicated diagrams
churned around her in opposing directions. The letters changed and transformed,
twisting and writhing in ever-shifting phrases too quick for her eyes to follow.
And she was standing inside it, in the very center. Where the demon was supposed
to appear.

"You little shit!" she swore viciously then took a step toward the guy jolting
to a sudden halt. She couldn't pass the boundaries. Raising her hands in
curiosity, she felt about and discovered herself trapped within a kind of
invisible force field.

'But if this is a circle meant to contain a demon and I can't pass it, then this
means that...' Her brow furrowed in confusion. 'That I'm supposed to be the
demon?' Cassandra's violet eyes widened in surprise, thinking that being
considered a demon was kind'a cool, but then again, it kind'a wasn't.

"Hey! Let me out of here you fucking freak! You got your damned spell wrong, you
shit-sucking idiot!" she shouted, banging a fist on the force field. It gave a
hollow wobbling sound but stayed right where it was. Cassandra's cursing and
swearing began to get creative.

She was ignored as the short guy in the long robes continued to chant. He
marched, chanting, right up to the circle's edge and finishing his mantra in a
flourish of exotic phrases and gestures.

"Demoness," he said, pointing a finger at Cassandra. "I command you to seduce
The Holy Inquisitor, Monsignor Casca Renaldo Cervantes of the Holy Order of the
Dominicans currently ensconced in the Our Lady of Paris Cathedral. I command you
to take his virginity and then deliver him to your Infernal Master," the short
guy announced.

"What?" she sputtered, her cursing brought to a sudden halt. "Let me get this
straight, you conjured me to seduce a priest?" Cassandra said in surprise.
"Hell, I'd do a priest for you without all this..." she waved her hand around
indicating the ritual site, "...get-up," she finished, grinning widely. 'He
won't be the first priest I've seduced' she thought smugly to herself, 'and if I
have anything to say about it, he certainly won't be the last!'  .

Something abruptly bonged in Cassandra's head. A wave of heat slithered up her
body like exploring hands on her flesh. It felt as though something else was
moving inside her body, rummaging around under her skin and lurking at the back
of her mind. Cassandra's nipples and every hair on her body stood upright. To
her complete and utter surprise, her mouth popped open and words spilled from
her lips.

"I hear and obey, Master." The words just leapt out of her mouth. "Okay, this is
getting way too weird for me," she whispered in fright. 'Well, shit. Looks like
I am the demon. But where the hell am I?'

 "Come, Demoness," he demanded, imperiously holding out his hand.

Cassandra jolted at the command but was strangely powerless to resist his direct
order. Something else was driving the car, making her body move by itself.
Cautiously, she placed her palm in his waiting hand and cringing, stepped
forward.

'Whoa, no zap', she thought as she passed the circle's boundary to stand next to
the short guy. Cassandra blinked as she realized that he was a full head shorter
than her.

"I am Magister Chevalier le Duc," he said with grave courtesy. "Welcome to
Paris."

"I'm in Paris? As in Paris, France?" Cassandra squeaked.

"You are. Give me your name, Demoness."

"I'm..." she began but her body's occupant took that moment to slither around
under her skin in warning. There was something she couldn't quite get, something
about souls and power exchange. She could feel a name surfacing that was
something she'd never heard before and she wasn't sure she could pronounce.
'Hmm, must be my roommate's name,' she thought. 'Better keep that one to
myself.' Her roommate settled down and she thought it felt pleased with her
decision.

"Your name?" The Magister pressed.

"You can call me Malora," she smiled. She was telling the truth, it really was
her name. Her stripper name anyway.

"Lady Malora," he smiled. Taking great care, the Magister loosened his black
robe then offered it to Cassandra. She had thought the robe fancy but the outfit
he wore beneath it made the robe look plain in comparison. He was wearing a
beautiful rich brown velvet tunic encrusted with hundreds of tiny golden topaz
jewels, over a full-sleeved, cloth of gold shirt and brown velvet tights. Weird
looking square-toed slippers covered his feet.

"Oh my... I am definitely not in Kansas anymore," Cassandra quipped eyeing his
very medieval outfit as she shrugged into the robe. She smiled as she realized
that although the robe swept the ground on the short guy, the hem was more than
a foot too short for her. She wiggled her carmine painted toes.

***

"Holy Fuck!" Cassandra whispered. "And I thought Marco had a cool house!"
Cassandra said in surprise as she was led through long halls and galleries.

The Magister lived in an honest to Satan palace. The floors were white veined
black marble with lofty gilded ceilings and paintings on every exposed surface
no matter how tiny. The furniture was all covered with ruby velvet over dark
wood and huge. Enormous tapestries swathed the oak paneled walls and covered the
doorways. There were fur throw rugs on the floors and solid gold plates on
mantles crowning the hundreds of fireplaces that seemed to be in every room.

'Does this guy think he's a vampire or something?' Cassandra thought as she
gazed about. 'It's so dark in here.' The whole place was lit up with thousands
of candles in wall sconces and massive standing silver candelabras but deep
shadows pooled in all the corners. If there were any windows, they were heavily
shrouded.

There were also hundreds of servants scurrying everywhere.  Compared to the
Magister in his jeweled chocolate velvets, the servants were all dressed in drab
muddy colors. The women all wore kerchiefs over their hair and long skirts. The
men wore shapeless caps and really long baggy shirts belted at the waist. Every
single one of them was shorter than the Magister. Cassandra felt positively
gigantic.

"So, what year is it, here in Paris?" she asked in suspicion.  He rattled off a
date but it didn't really make any sense. Her slithery inner occupant shifted
slightly under her skin and filled in the blanks. She was somewhere in the
thirteenth century in January. The Magister apparently didn't follow the newly
introduced, Julian calendar.

'Holy fuck! I'm in the Middle Ages'! Cassandra thought, stunned.

The Magister led her through a long dark gallery to a large tapestry portraying
a colorful hunt scene then pulled it aside to reveal a pair of immense, black
oak doors. Throwing them open, he ushered her into a huge room with two
fireplaces and a gigantic canopied bed curtained in heavy black velvet. Her bare
feet sank into a thick silk velvet carpet that glowed with vibrant colors in a
middle-eastern design.

Cassandra walked around the room staring at everything. She was intensely
fascinated by the marble sculptures of leering goat guys, satyrs that supported
the heavy mantle over one of the huge fireplaces. The artist had been
particularly creative with the size of the cocks they sported.

"Whoa, I have to get me one of these," she sighed in envy. Cassandra turned to
ask the Magister about the sculptures only to find him standing by the
velvet-draped bed, completely naked.

"Service me," he commanded. In his palm, he caressed his huge and very rigid
dick.

"Impressive," she commented, then got a better look. While she rather enjoyed
giving head, and he looked like he had a very nice, uncircumcised, specimen of
manliness, Cassandra eyed his naked body with grim reservations. He was not
anywhere near clean. In fact, he was funky with a serious body odor that she
could smell from where she stood across the room from him.

Obviously Cassandra couldn't disobey his command. The 'something else' that was
cohabitating her body wasn't going to let her avoid a direct order. But perhaps
she could find a way around this little filth problem. Then she was struck with
inspiration. All the really good romance novels described hot baths in tubs by
the fire.

"I would love to serve you," Cassandra said quickly, before he could order her
to put that nasty, filthy thing in her mouth. "Why don't I bathe you first,
Master?"

"It is far too cold for a bath..." he started, looking a little doubtful.

"Not if we heat the water really hot and set the tub right here in front of the
fire.

I could wash you with my own hands," she purred seductively, "rubbing you and
lathering your entire body with soap." Cassandra offered temptingly. "Have you
ever had sex in a tub full of soapy water?"

"Actually, I haven't had that pleasure." There was an interested look in his
black eyes. "I believe we have the time," he said with a small nod. Cassandra
felt like jumping up and down with glee, but settled for a small bow and a
sultry smile.

The romance novels apparently forgot to mention how long it actually took
servant after servant after servant to heat then carry bucket after bucket after
bucket of rapidly cooling water, all the way from the kitchens to the Master's
room to fill the huge wooden tub of water.

'Oh, shit!' Cassandra thought. 'This looks like it's going to take a while.' She
eyed the mere inches of water in the bottom. 'I'd better distract this guy
before he gets bored watching the servants filling the tub and asks me to give
him head again.' Once again, inspiration came to the rescue.

"Master? If we had some music, I could dance for you," Cassandra opened the robe
she still wore, to show off her full breasts and smooth body then rolled her
hips seductively. Cassandra was pleased to see the Magister's eyes about bug out
of his head. He grabbed one of the servants and asked them to bring him some
gypsy guy whose name she couldn't begin to pronounce.

"You called Magister?" inquired a young guy only minutes later. He was dressed
in brilliantly colored rags that were festooned with gold and silver coins. He
strolled through the door carrying a strange looking, round-bellied guitar and
bowed. He was motioned to a corner of the room. The young musician sat himself
on a huge cushion in the corner. He tuned his instrument then strummed a cord
and look up at Cassandra expectantly.

"What would you have the Gypsy play?" asked the Magister.

Cassandra had no idea what to ask for. Suddenly that warm 'other' feeling flowed
out from under her skin to wrap her in a shimmering wave of heat, making her
hair float up on waves of power. As though in a dream, she glided over to the
musician. With a shrug, the robe dropped to the floor at her feet, revealing her
glorious body. The musician's mouth fell open in complete astonishment.

Gently, Cassandra leaned over the seated musician, her long red hair brushing
his shoulder. Cupping his chin with her hand, she delicately touched her lips to
his. His mouth opened and his tongue darted in to touch hers. A current of
otherworldly heat rushed from her mouth into his.

 The musician jerked back with a small cry as though struck. His head dropped
sharply then his eyes rose slowly to hers. A gleam of hellfire danced in the
depths of his black eyes and he smiled in a way Cassandra was sure, the musician
had never, ever smiled before. He nodded once and began to play.

Still riding a wave of 'otherness', she glided to the center of the carpet. The
Musician strummed an opening chord that sounded strangely like 'Stairway to
Heaven.' Cassandra felt a wave of power enveloping her skin and she leapt.

The music stopped and Cassandra snapped awake. Her arms were raised above her
head in a sinuous arc, her body arched in a sensuous curve and her legs poised
for a leap. Slowly she relaxed her posture. There was a lovely sweat gleaming on
her skin, but Cassandra didn't feel the least bit tired. The musician was passed
out on his cushion. She couldn't remember a damn thing.

Part Two:
Bath

"Okay..." Cassandra muttered. "That's spooky." Glancing over at the waiting
Magister, she saw that his mouth was hanging open in reaction to her dance. From
the looks of his cum-spattered hand, he had apparently enjoyed the show. She
still couldn't remember a moment of it. 'Well, I guess that's a good sign,'
Cassandra thought.

She glanced around at the tub. Wonder of wonders! The tub was finally full and
steaming before the fire. 'About damned time too! Let's get this show on the
road.' Smiling, she stepped over to the stunned ceremonial magician. Taking his
chilled hand in hers, she led him naked to the tub.

Cassandra plunged her hand into the bath water and frowned. This would not do,
the water was barely tepid. So how come it was steaming? Her brow creased in
thought. 'Oh, It must be really cold in here and I'm still radiating heat from
the tanning bed so I don't feel it. Okay, but this is still far too cold for him
to bathe in.'

"Wait, Master," she said, keeping him from getting in the chilly tub. "Water
this cold will give you a chill and make you sick. Let me see what I can do."
There was a shift of movement and heat under the skin of her hands. 'Better yet,
let's see what my roommate can do. How about heating this water?' she thought,
focusing hard.

There was a ferocious rush of power down her to her palm. She plunged her whole
arm into the tepid water and the water began to bubble. Cassandra plunged her
other arm into the bath, bending way over to submerge as much of her arms as
possible. In an amazingly short while, the water was hot, just the way she liked
it. Then it was a little too hot. Then it was way, way too hot.

'Hey, hey! Ease up! We don't want to roast him!' Cassandra thought as loudly as
she could at the power swimming in her body.

'Don't we?' the power whispered back at her with a brief flash of the Magister
screaming. Cassandra startled then got a grip on herself and the power.

'No, we do not want to roast him, at least not yet,' she insisted. Apparently
her power literally had a mind of its own, and a nasty one at that. The
temperature backed down to a more tolerable level. "Much better," she sighed,
"Your bath is ready Master."

The Magister looked at Cassandra in some doubt then dunked his hand into the
bath water. His black brows shot up and he smiled with pleasant surprise.
Cassandra got out of the way as he practically leapt into the wooden tub.

'That was graceful,' Cassandra thought sarcastically as she eyed the water
splashing on to the expensive carpet. Sinking under the hot water to his neck
the Magister gave a long satisfied sigh.

"This is most pleasant," the Magister practically purred. "I haven't been this
warm since the summer. Out of gratitude, you may bath after me."

"I'm glad you're enjoying it," Cassandra smirked as she reached for a washcloth.
"But, um..." she began, getting a good look at the greasy filth starting to rise
to the water's surface. "I think I'll pass. I've already had my bath." 'Yeah, in
the hot tub this morning.'

Gritting her teeth, she grabbed a gray ball of waxy stuff that the servants had
assured her was indeed soap. With a will, she lathered up a knobby cloth then
attacked the Magister's broad back. Thinking in terms of her five-year-old
nephew, she scrubbed with a vengeance.

Lathering her rag and rinsing repeatedly, she was pleased to discover that his
shoulders were very broad and his arms were heavily roped with muscle. His chest
was actually quite breathtaking and only lightly furred. His stomach was flat
with well-formed ridges with a tapering waist. As she swiped the rag over his
legs, Cassandra noticed that they were quite muscular and rather fine.

'This boy exercises for real.' She thought in admiration. 'This body wasn't made
in any gym.'

Underwater, she ran her hands over his more manly parts. His cock swelled and
lengthened under her expert ministrations. She took great care to wash under,
around and between, exploring every nook and cranny as well as the weight, heft
and solidity of his privates. The Magister moaned as she stroked and caressed
him clean.

Cassandra scraped what appeared to be months of accumulated dirt from his body.
She thought about asking him when his last bath was, then decided she really
didn't want to know.

Even his face improved with a judicious use of soap. It took a lot of
convincing, but she finally got him to let her wash his shoulder-length hair. It
was so filthy she had assumed it was dark. After some expert soaping and rinsing
she was astonished to see that it was actually a sandy blond.

"Okay, time to rinse, stand up." He stood in the tub with his back to her, water
sluicing off of his muscular form. 'Mmm, nice ass too!' Grabbing a bucket
sitting by the fire, Cassandra dunked in a hand and used just a little power to
heat the water. Cheerfully, she stepped behind him and dumped it over his head.
The Magister howled in surprise. As he swept the water from his eyes, Cassandra
was able to grab and heat the second bucket.

"Look out below!" she called and upended the second bucket over his head.

"Damned bitch!" he swore then shook his wet head, spraying water everywhere.

"You did conjure a damned demon remember?" she said with a cheeky smile. "Now,
are you ready for me to dry you off?" Cassandra held up a huge towel.

"I thought you were going to join me?" he asked, turning and presenting
Cassandra with a very fine view of his firm and very clean erection. Proudly
displaying himself, he stepped from the wooden tub.

Cassandra glanced at the oily scum floating in the tub. 'That water is nasty,'
she thought with a shudder. "How about taking me in front of the fire?" she
whispered invitingly into his ear as she rubbed the towel over his back. He
turned in her arms and nuzzled into her neck.

"That sounds like a very fine idea." With sudden ferocity he wrapped his
muscular arms around her waist and lifted her off her feet. Cassandra squealed
as she was slung over his damp shoulder. He strode toward the opposite fireplace
where the satyrs leered, then knelt. Gently cradling her body, he laid her out
on a white fur throw rug. Kneeling above her, the flames lit the fine curls
glinting gold across his clean muscular form.

"You know, you clean up real nice," Cassandra purred in admiration. She ran a
hand across his sleek and clean chest then slid her palm lower, her ruby nails
scoring lightly. She bit her bottom lip as she followed the yummy trail of
golden curls that darkened as they arrowed down his muscular belly.

"You say the strangest things," the Magister grinned.

 "Come over here, big boy," Cassandra grinned as she wrapped a hand around his
silky firm erection, tugging him closer. "Have I got a surprise for you!"
Positioning him with his knees straddling her full breasts, she gently slid his
foreskin back with her palms, exposing the swollen purple head, damp with
pre-cum.

"There you are my sweet!" she purred then licked her lips. With a pointed
tongue, she stroked the revealed knob then swiped it, circling with the flat of
her tongue with slow licks. He fell forward over her body, his hands clenching
in the fur as he moaned in sheer appreciation.

Encouraged by his obvious delight, Cassandra nibbled the flared edge of the cap
then sucked hard, swallowing the full length. He moaned and shuddered then
bucked his hips, thrusting into her wet heated mouth. He withdrew to the edge of
his cock-head then slowly thrust into her throat, with firm strokes. Cassandra
lashed her tongue across the bottom of his shaft as he fucked her mouth. With a
hoarse panting moan, he dropped to his elbows, his body bowed over hers.

As she tongue-lashed him Cassandra ran a hand over his back and down his firm
ass. A fine sheen of sweat had formed there; his muscles were taut and
vibrating. He was getting ready to cum. Quickly she formed a tight ring around
the base of his cock on his shaft, just above the balls, restraining his cum. He
thrust hard holding his iron hard cock in her mouth, a hoarse painful moan
escaping his lips. He tried again. Cassandra's fingers held firm.

With a vicious oath he reared back and sat up. His cock slipped out of her mouth
with a wet pop then slapped upright against his belly.

"Going somewhere without me?" Cassandra purred. The Magister grabbed Cassandra
bodily who yelped in surprise then he flipped her over on her tummy. Firmly he
gripped her hips and hauled her up on her knees.

"I am the Master here," he snarled, "I will not be controlled by one such as
you." He fisted his hand in her red tresses and pulled her head back with
surprising gentleness. She felt his fingers delve into her damp core, exploring
her wet and ready flesh.

'Now we're getting somewhere!' She thought to herself. He burrowed his fingers
into her then thrust deeply but slowly again and then again. Curling his fingers
he stroked her walls from within. Cassandra shuddered in excitement, rocking
back against his fingers, fucking herself against his palm. Warmth curled in her
belly as she realized that she was damn close to cumming.

"Fuck me!" she hissed in impatience. "Fuck me now!"

Pulling his fingers out of her she felt the heated tip of his cock pressing
against her wet pussy. He pulled her back against him and shoved into her depths
with a grunt.

Cassandra moaned as he filled her, his width stretching her walls deliciously.
To her complete surprise, he laid himself full against her arched back then
reached an arm around her hip. His fingers found and rubbed against her swollen
clit. Cassandra bucked her hips back against him as the salacious pleasure
propelled her toward the brink of a vicious orgasm. She mewled in frustration as
her pleasure stayed just out of her grasp.

The Magister took that moment to pull back then buried himself to the hilt in a
long deep stroke then pulled back to shove deeply in again, and again, and
again. Cassandra moaned and thrust herself back against him in perfect timing.
They increased in speed until the loud slapping of his thighs against her ass
filled the room. His hand never left her clit as he rubbed and rubbed.

Suddenly Cassandra felt the unmistakable quiver that meant she was about to cum.
Panting she gripped the fur in both hands as she rocked herself back against the
hard cock slamming into her hungry pussy. Her breath caught and she suddenly
froze as her climax rippled then cascaded through her trembling body. Power
flared down her spine to envelope her body, raising the fine hairs. She felt her
inner walls tremble, clenching powerfully around his lodged flesh. She heard him
howl as her power pulled him forcibly into an orgasm, his cum spewing into her
welcoming body, her inner flesh squeezing and sucking him dry.

Breathlessly, they fell onto the furs wrapped in each other's arms. Cassandra
pulled him into a soul-sucking kiss that he answered with enthusiasm. Tongues
lashed against each other, tasting the spent passion of the other.

"If it weren't for the Monsignor, I would keep you for myself," the Magister
growled breathlessly.

"I guess you'll just have to conjure me again, when you haven't got a project
for me," Cassandra murmured with a smirk. "In the meantime, we have all night."

Part Three:
Adorned

Cassandra was awakened at dawn. Grumbling, she was pulled from the Magister's
huge bed by four very short but strapping, maids. She was then escorted, wrapped
in a sheet, to a room that had obviously been originally set up for her. A room
she hadn't slept in. A huge fire roared in an enormous fireplace before a
massive four-poster bed.

Once again a wooden tub had been filled with water, this time for her alone.
With a judicious use of her demonic power, she heated the water herself then
stepped into the tub. The water came up to her neck as she sat down. With a cozy
sigh, she settled in for a soak.

Then two huge, horse-faced women came in. They grabbed her arms and went after
her with harsh soap and rough rags, determined to scrub her within an inch of
her life.

"Hey! Cut that shit out!" Cassandra howled in indignation. After a large amount
of slopped water, Cassandra stood up and pushed them off of her. "Look, I'm
already clean, dam'mit! Unlike everybody else around here, I fucking bathe every
damn day!" She held out her arms for them to see. They ignored her words and
lunged forward.

"I said STOP!" Cassandra commanded her voice laced with demonic depth. Power
flared in a corona around her, flames blazed up on her skin in a wash of heat.
Her hair floated up to wave in the infernal wind. The water in the tub bubbled
and steamed in a boil.

The two women screamed and fell away cowering on the floor.

"That's more like it," Cassandra hissed. "I will bathe myself and if you are
good I won't char you to ashes," she growled. The image of the two women
writhing and screaming in flames danced entertainingly through her thoughts. 'I
don't remember being this blood-thirsty,' Cassandra mused, a little puzzled.

The women whimpered in fright, too scared to move.

After a nice soak, Cassandra allowed them to dry her off with a huge sheet. They
then offered to rub her in exotic scented oils. Agreeing to this, they massaged
her feet then her long muscular legs. Strong hands worked the oil into her
thighs then fingers swept through the short pelt of her trimmed pussy. They dove
into the seam of her thighs, under her ass then in the furrow of her butt
cheeks. 

Cassandra moaned in warm pleasure as their hands smoothed over her tummy and
fingers dug into her firm ass. Her waist was oiled and cooed over for its
narrowness. Up her ribcage the hands swept and across her back then over her
shoulders and around her breasts.

Fingers circled closer then closer to her pointed nipples, finally touching them
then pinching them lightly, giving her little jolts of pleasure that streaked
straight to her pussy.

Her neck was oiled, wrapping her in a cloud of scent. Their hands stroked down
her arms paying special attention to her bare armpits and each individual
finger.

Encouraged by the maids, she tasted a delicate powder they wanted to dust her
body with. She discovered that it was sweet, a honeyed, super-fine sugar. With a
puff of sheepskin, she was dusted with the very fine delicate powder. Gently
they covered her from her throat, all over her breasts, down her thighs and over
her firm ass. They paid close attention to her pussy, sweeping the sheepskin
deep into her pink flesh.

'Sugaring me up for my appointment with the Monsignor,' she figured.

Giggling at Cassandra's reaction to the sweet dust, they helped her sit on a low
stool. Gold silk stockings were rolled up her glossy hairless legs to just above
her knee. The maids whispered and muttered as they explored the silky smoothness
of her shaved shins.

'Too bad they're all nasty looking, or this could have been very interesting,'
Cassandra thought in amusement. Ribbon garters were tied into bows below her
knees to keep the stockings up. She looked down into the face of the maid
sitting between her thighs and tying her garters.

'Hmm, this one's not too bad,' she thought with a wicked gleam in her eye. The
maid appeared to be younger. She looked more like someone in her late 'teens
than the rest of the horse-faced house frous, and she looked fairly clean.

"Wait," Cassandra said, as the maid started to rise. The girl froze and turned
to her in trepidation. "What is your name?" Cassandra asked her.

"I'm Flora, Mistress," the chit whispered in fright.

"Well Flora, I want you to do something for me." Cassandra waved the other maids
away. The young maid's fear was palpable and it was exciting her.

"Yes, Mistress?"

"I want you to kiss me," Cassandra said very softly. "I want you to kiss me
here," she said, spreading her thighs and presenting her freshly oiled and
sugar-dusted pussy.

"Kiss you? There?" Flora hesitated.

'Oh, goody! A virgin to cunnilingus! How nice.' Cassandra thought wickedly. "Yes
Flora, kiss me there. Now." Flora bent forward and pressed soft lips on the
inverted cross of Cassandra's closely trimmed mound.

"Very nice, I am the Mistress and you must do as I say," Cassandra practically
growled then moaned in appreciation. "Now, lick it, right here," she whispered
using her carmine nails to part the plump petals of her mons revealing the pink
inner flesh of her damp and voracious pussy. "Lick it all, Flora, lick
everything."

Flora's little tongue touched her delicately then with more enthusiasm as the
sugar melted into Cassandra' pearly essence.

"Yes my sweet girl, a little harder, a little quicker and don't miss anything,"
she sighed as bliss began to roll up her body in slow waves. She was really
getting off on the total control she had over the young maid.

Flora's tongue slathered all over Cassandra's delicate and hungry flesh then
dipped into the gaping dripping hole that was the gate to her womb. Flora
grabbed at Cassandra's knees for support and went at it with a will. The sound
of delightful slurping filled the chamber.

'I see I have a convert; a little Lesbian in the making,' Cassandra chuckled to
herself. "Yes my sweet girl, now lick me here," she said and pointed her finger
at her clit. Flora poked her tongue at the tiny nubbin of flesh then wiggled.

"Mmm! Delightful girl!" Cassandra said in appreciation. "A little harder and a
little quicker, yes," she hissed as a wave of pleasure gripped her and
threatened to spill over. "Just a little bit more," Cassandra said as she began
to fight for breath. Her hips rocked forward onto Flora's mouth.

Cassandra felt her orgasm begin to crest. She reached out and grabbed Flora by
the hair and mashed her pussy against Flora's lips and working tongue, raising
her bottom from the stool to fuck the girl's face. Harshly Cassandra pinched her
own nipples and heat flooded up from her pussy in a wave of demonic power,
rushing through her in a shrieking, clenching crushing climax. Cassandra felt
her creamy woman cum pool then douse Flora's face.

She barely heard Flora's whimpers as Cassandra's power slammed into the little
virgin to give her an orgasm of her own.

"Good girl," Cassandra panted, dropping to the stool in gratified exhaustion.
Flora slumped over her knee, her face shiny with Cassandra's pleasure. The other
maids had cowered in the corner.

"I guess I'll need more sugar," Cassandra sighed. The rest of the maids crept
back to Cassandra even as Flora bolted from the room.

The jar of sugar powder was reopened and Cassandra was puffed with the
honey-dust then helped into flimsy gold chemise with delicate lace framing her
throat and the neckline. It was held closed with tiny bows from the neck down.
The maids lifted up a red velvet gown that had been draped across the black silk
damask comforter of the poster bed.

'My, my, my... No panties? How shameless!' Cassandra thought to herself with a
snicker. 'Looks like we are not even going to pretend what I'm going to be
doing.'

Cassandra cooed over the velvet in appreciation. It was the most beautiful dress
she had ever seen. It was long-sleeved and covered in gold trim with tiny bows.
Garnet and onyx jewels winked like stars all over the corset-like bodice. The
gown also opened all the way down the front and was held closed only by a row of
gold tipped ribbons that tied across the gilded bodice. Once she was helped into
it, Cassandra was pleased to see that the square neckline of the gown pushed her
breasts up invitingly.

"Hmm, definitely something meant to get out of in a hurry," Cassandra said to
herself as the maids placed matching slippers on her feet. They could have never
been called shoes; they were far too delicate to ever be worn outside.

After a final dusting of the honey powder across her breasts, one of the maids
stood back to look at her and frowned. Then to Cassandra's surprise, the maid
dipped her hands into Cassandra's bodice and scooped her breasts up until the
nipples rested at the very edge of the bodice, barely concealed by the lace.
Apparently pleased with the effect, the maid then shoved Cassandra into a low
chair before a vanity with a gilded mirror. With a look of fierce determination,
the maid picked up a hairbrush.

***

"Wow," was all that Cassandra could say as she gazed upon herself in the mirror.
Using heated iron rods, her hair had been skillfully curled and piled in a
magnificent heap atop her head. Onyx and garnet pins held it up with a gold
ribbon threaded through the mass. One pull on that ribbon and the whole thing
would come tumbling down.

The maids opened the glass and jewel pots of make-up. This was where Cassandra
figured she'd better take over. She absolutely refused to have them rub her face
with the lead-based facial make-up. Instead she gently dusted her cheeks and
forehead with the sweet powder. Using her fingertips, she dusted her lids
liberally with a gold dust, darkening the corners with an amethyst purple
powder. Realizing what she was looking at, Cassandra picked up a kole stick. She
rolled it in a tiny dish of oil then dipped the oiled stick in a pot of black
kole powder. Gently she outlined her eyes and darkened her lashes.

'Good thing I read that article in the National Geographic on ancient Egypt and
how they used this stuff,' Cassandra thought in amusement. A dark red powder was
presented to Cassandra. Oiling her lips lightly, she then brushed her lips with
the red powder. Her lips took the stain quickly and darkened to a deep crimson.
She added a touch of gold dust and achieved a glistening ruby that went nicely
with her nails. She smiled at her reflection.

Cassandra was hustled out of the room and hurried down the halls by the clucking
maids. At the top of a staircase, the maids set her free and bade her go down.
Carefully lifting the gold and velvet skirts, Cassandra glided down the broad
staircase.

Part Four:
Appointment

As she descended the stairs in her silent slippers, Cassandra noticed the
Magister who waited at the bottom. His strong blunt hand rested on the newel
post as he gazed out the wide-open double doors, his gaze and his thoughts far
away.

'Well, I guess he's not a vampire,' she mused as she admired the way the
sunlight defined the strong planes of his face. 'He really does clean up nice,'
she thought in appreciation. He looked dashing to Cassandra in his suit of black
velvet trimmed in silky black fur. Tiny jewels of garnet and onyx winked amongst
the heavy folds of his robes. His hair gleamed clean and golden in the streaming
sunlight.

The Magister jerked around as he caught the sound of her whispering velvets. His
eyes opened wide as he gazed upon her. Cassandra bathed in the glow of his
admiration as she descended the last steps. Once she reached the bottom he bowed
deeply to her and Cassandra found herself answering with not too bad of a
curtsy.

"You could seduce a Saint, my Lady Malora," the Magister said softly with a
heated gleam in his eye. He dropped a velvet cape across her shoulders winking
with garnet and onyx stars, matching his suit then offered his arm.

"Let's hope your priest won't be as difficult as all that," Cassandra murmured
back.

Gently the Magister took her elbow and guided her out the massive front door to
a carriage pulled by six paired black horses. The conveyance was huge, wooden
and bulky, with grooms riding on all three of the horses on the left. The
harnesses were intricate with gold buckles and black plumes on the headstalls of
all six horses. A full complement of armed guards rode before and behind in
matching gold and black livery.

Cassandra was seated on the plush cushions of the heavily curtained narrow
carriage with the Magister on the seat across from her. He yelled out the window
and the carriage jolted forward onto the uneven paving of the road.

"So, Master, what's the plan? How do I go about seducing this priest of yours?"
Cassandra asked over the thunder of the wooden wheels on the uneven road.

"He has a fondness for dancers, the more exotic, the better. I told him that I
have the most fabulous dancer known to man imported from the furthest reaches of
the world. Naturally he had to see you, so I have made an appointment for you."

"That sounds simple enough."

"Keep in mind, he has armed guards around him always. If you say or do anything
to arouse his suspicions, he will have you dragged away to be tortured then
killed."

"This is getting more problematic by the moment." A chill ran down Cassandra's
spine.

"You must be very careful, Malora. He could easily figure out what you are. He
is a sorcerer in his own right."

"Oh, joy," Cassandra, whispered in sarcasm.

"Just don't say anything. Smile, and for His Infernal Lord's sake - keep your
eyes lowered! You don't want him catching sight of the Hellfire in your gaze."

"Do they really glow with Hellfire?" Cassandra was pleased. 'Where was a hand
mirror when you needed one?'

"When you are aroused by your passions, your eyes glow with golden flames. You
must get him under your spell quickly, then alone to seduce him."

"Is there anything else I need to know?"

"His spells are fueled by the fact that he is a virgin. Once you bring him to
climax his magic will be broken.  If you can get him to climax within your body
he will be completely helpless and at your mercy. You will then be able to carry
him off to your Infernal Master. Once you have him, your mission will be done
and you will be free to go."

"All I have to do is make him cum?" Cassandra's eyes gleamed. "Sounds like a
cake walk to me. Wait, how ugly is this guy? And how old is he?" Cassandra
imagined a battle of epic proportions with her libido. If he turned out to be
too nasty, she'd have a real problem touching him, never mind letting him into
her body.

"He's considered angelic in his physical beauty and he's a mature twenty-two."
The Magister sounded disgusted. "He's resisted every attempt to seduce him so
far. He's so beautiful that every girl we sent to him became enamored with him
and confessed before they were able to finish what they were sent for."

"What happened to the girls?"

"He had them killed, naturally."

"Naturally." Cassandra thought a moment. "What made you decide on conjuring up a
demon?"

"His magic was too powerful for an ordinary mortal woman to resist. The most
talented courtesans and dancers we could find were all overcome with love for
him in a matter of minutes. It was decided that we needed something stronger and
more resistant to his spells."

"And so, here I am. I just have one more question. What has this guy done that
you felt the need to have him carried off to Hell by a demon?"

"He is a Holy Inquisitor. He insists that he is just here on a visit but he has
been here for a full month. There are many sorcerers here in Paris. They're
afraid that they will be discovered. He only needs to find one of us and he will
find us all."

"Am I really seducing one of the Spanish Inquisition?" The Magister nodded and
Cassandra dissolved into a fit of giggles. "That is so funny! I've always wanted
a chance at one of those fuckers!" She licked her lips in anticipation.

"I assure you Malora, it is no laughing matter for us." The Magister frowned
heavily, his arms folded against his chest.

"And, as to him being too pretty for me to resist, I really don't think I'll
have a problem, I've seen far too many truly gorgeous hunks in my life to be
impressed by a mere twenty-two year old," she said with a chuckle. 'Yeah,' she
though to herself, 'I'd like to see this guy compete with Lorenzo Lamas or even
Nicholas Cage!' She chuckled evilly. 'As if this century could come up with
anything that would impress me.'

Cassandra mused in silence then a thought occurred to her. 'Hmm, it couldn't
hurt to stack the deck just a little.' Closing her eyes, she concentrated on
finding her inner darkling roommate, the power that swam under her skin. It
pushed through the waves of the inner sea of her being, then swelled closer to
her thoughts, shy as a cat. She held a question out to the tide of power,
forming her thought as clearly as she could.

The power joyfully overtook her body in a warm wave that washed her completely
from toe to hair-tip. A light scent of sulfur and Egyptian musk wafted very
gently in the close confines of the rocking coach.

"What are you doing?" the Magister asked in hushed tones.

"Let's just say I'm tipping the scales a little more in my favor." Cassandra was
surprised to discover that the power had more than arisen to the task. Her voice
was suddenly incredibly melodious and sultry. She opened her eyes. "What do you
think?"

"Malora, what exactly have you done?" the Magister seemed to be panting, his
fists gripped the handles of the coach with white knuckles. There was a
pronounced bulge under his codpiece.

"Why, I've made myself irresistible, of course." She smiled and the Magister
choked in reaction. "So, what do you think? Will I do?" Cassandra batted her
lashes at him.

The Magister answered by falling to his knees. With shaking hands he lifted her
skirts. Cassandra parted her thighs and smiled as he buried his face in her
fragrant pussy. His tongue was delicious and hot as he delved into the delicate
folds, sucking and lapping noisily. The point of his tongue found her clit and
he teased it mercilessly.

'Mmm, twice in one day! I'm doing good!' Opening herself wide, Cassandra leaned
back against the cushions and raised her hips to his mouth.

Using the full length of his tongue, he burrowed into her wet depths, stabbing
in and fucking her with it. As she writhed under the delicate torture of his
lips and tongue, he released her thighs.

He pulled a glove off of one hand to sink two fingers into her soaking flesh and
then stroked them slowly in, then out. He fluttered his tongue against her
sensitive clit and she moaned deeply. Unable to stop herself, she gripped his
hair in her hand and rolled, crushing her pussy against his lips. Moaning,
Cassandra shook as the pleasure rose up. He lapped noisily as she soaked him in
her pearly juices. Her demonic power stirred to sudden and ferocious life and
rapture blazed through her. The Magister cried out as her power shoved him into
an orgasm his body was helpless to resist. He cried out against her flesh even
as she sighed in repletion.

"Did you just cum in your pants?" Cassandra asked in delighted wickedness.

"Demonic bitch," he swore as he pulled out a silk handkerchief to clean himself.

A shout from one of the coachmen hurriedly brought the Magister back to his
seat. In a clatter of shod hooves, the coach rumbled to a jerky halt. Men
shouted all around them and horses called out in indignation.

The Magister pulled out a second lace handkerchief from his embroidered sleeve.
Quickly he wiped his face of her essence, taking a moment to savor the aroma
before tucking the bit of lace away.

Cassandra stretched like a well-fed cat on the cushions then tucked her skirts
back into place. "Thank-you, that was very nice," she purred. Her smile was
completely lascivious.

 "Malora, we have arrived," he said, passion coloring his voice. "You realize
that one way or another, this is farewell."

"I guess it is." Cassandra touched his sleeve. "Take care of yourself Master, I
had a wonderful time." Their gazes locked. 'So far anyway.'

"That reminds me," the Magister said. Darting to her side like a snake, he
grabbed her gently but firmly by the throat. Using his free hand, he made a
gesture and muttered something in a quick spat of Latin.

Cassandra choked as she felt a collar settle around her throat. "What the Hell"?
she asked. The words came out in a torrent of nonsense. Touching her neck with
her fingers, she could feel nothing -- but something was definitely there and it
was messing with her ability to speak.

"Although you will understand everything spoken around you, you will not be
understood," The Magister said as he tugged his gloves back on. "I can
understand you as I placed the spell, but I cannot have you reveal and betray me
should you fail and be put under torture." The Magister looked unhappy, but
determined. "This was done to all the maids we sent to him so that they could
not reveal us through confession under torture. I'm sorry, but it had to be done
for you as well."

"Fuck you," Cassandra said with venom. 'Yup,' she thought as she saw him flinch,
'he can understand every word.'

The coach door was jerked open.

***

"I would like to present to you, the dancer Serena." The Magister's voice was
rich but humble as he bowed. Cassandra curtsied in a graceful fall of red velvet
and gold lace.

'Serena?' thought Cassandra with a start. 'Well, he could have warned me that he
was changing my name. I guess it makes sense. He thinks Malora is my Demonic
name and he certainly wouldn't want the Inquisitor to have that. Serena is not
too bad a choice though. Good thing Television hasn't been invented yet or he'd
catch the 'Bewitched' reference.

"The dancer Serena. Well, she certainly is lovely," the Monsignor, said in a
soft melodious voice. He cupped a velvet-gloved hand under Cassandra's chin and
raised her face to look upon her. Startled, she looked up into his blue eyes
before veiling them with her lashes. He looked very young in his holy robes of
black and scarlet.

'Well, he certainly is pretty,' Cassandra thought. She looked up carefully at
the Monsignor from below her lashes as she continued to kneel. 'He could give
Leonardo DeCaprio a run for his money, but, I'm not about to fall down in a
swoon over him.'  She examined the Monsignor of the Holy Inquisition. 'Not too
bad a body on him, but I've seen better.' She smiled. 'This'll be a cake-walk.'

"And clean, how novel," the Monsignor murmured.

Cassandra felt a flicker of cool power and realized that the little sorcerer was
trying to enspell her. She smiled as it fizzled against her own volcanic
demon-borne power. Her roommate took that opportunity to ride the backwash of
his spell and slide into the Monsignor, reversing the effects of the fizzled
love spell.

The Monsignor frowned, a crease puckering his smooth and oh so perfect, brow. He
released her chin. Then his eyes opened wide, as though seeing Cassandra for the
first time. He licked his lips.

'Oh, look!' She thought in delight. 'I'm seeing lust at first sight!' Cassandra
thought maliciously. 'Let's see how you like the tables turned on you, my Pretty
Boy!' Cassandra could practically smell the carnal appetite rolling off of him.

 "You may rise," he said in his soft beautiful voice.

Cassandra rose to her full height and gazed down at the ever so Holy, Monsignor.
He was taller than the Magister, but still not quite up to Cassandra's eye
level. Cassandra had to bite her lip not to laugh out loud. 'Everyone is so
short around here!' she thought in barely concealed amusement.

"She's an Amazon as well." The Monsignor's brow rose with a touch of distain. "I
prefer them a little more delicate. Let us hope she's worth all the food she
must go through for her upkeep," he practically sneered then looked hard at the
Magister. "You are clean as well," his delicate brows raised in surprise. "I can
actually stand to be in your presence for once," he said then turned away.

'What a little prick!' Cassandra mused with a flash of temper. 'I'm going to
enjoy taking this little shit down then I'm going to enjoy making him scream as
he cums in my Gate to Hell.' Cassandra was just a little startled by her own
vehemence.

"A Dancer you say," the Monsignor drawled in apparent boredom. "I will see her
then, and we shall see what entertainments she can provide." The Monsignor
turned a sharp gaze to the Magister. "If she proves to be as unique an
experience as you promise, I shall see that you are amply rewarded."

"Truly, there is no one like Serena in the Known World. As to a reward,
Monsignor, your pleasure will be my reward," deferred the Magister from a deep
bow. Truth rang in every word he uttered.

At a gesture from the Monsignor, a blank-faced guard dressed in long red robes
and armor stepped forward with a subtle clank and bowed to Cassandra. With a
last curtsey to the Monsignor and a final dip of her head to the Magister, she
turned and strode after the guard.

Part Five:
Danse Macabre

The palace where the Monsignor was staying was epic in proportions. She'd seen
stadiums smaller than this. Everything was done in white marble and red velvet.
Religious paintings, and not so religious Greek pastoral paintings all in gilt
frames decorated all the walls. Frescos were painted directly on the plaster in
some places. Tall marble nude statues of plump women sat in niches everywhere.

'What a little hedonist!' Cassandra thought to herself as she followed the guard
to the very end of a long corridor. A pair of two-story, heavily gilded oak
doors was opened for her and a red curtain was pushed aside.

Cassandra ducked within and the guard closed the doors behind her. The room was
dark, huge and empty of all furnishings. The floors were china smooth and done
in white marble. Two massive white marble fireplaces warmed the room on opposing
walls. Heavily curtained windows that reached from floor to ceiling covered the
entire back wall. The room was lit with several braziers and not a few standing
candelabras but shadows swamped the far corners.

In one corner sat three musicians. Together they rose and approached. One of
them was the Gypsy she had kissed for her last performance. He grinned in feral
greeting, his eyes still alive with the hellfire she had given him with her
kiss.

"Well met, my Lady," bowed the possessed Gypsy.

"You seem to be popular around town," quipped Cassandra with a smile.
"Everywhere I go, there you are," she said to the Gypsy then flinched. Every
word she'd uttered had come out garbled. 'Damn.'

"I count myself blessed to be in your presence once again and I have indeed
grown popular about town lately. Especially since our last encounter." He was
smiling but his eyes held a strangely possessive heat

"You can understand me?" Cassandra asked in some surprise.

"Of course. It is your power that lives within me, I hear you in here." He
tapped his brow. "My ears hear nonsense, but I understand you. It seems that I
have reaped many benefits since you touched me with the gift of your kiss. I
have a sense of someplace called North America, and music called Rock and Roll
that whispers through my soul." He finished in barely a whisper. 

"I'm, pleased," Cassandra said. Actually she was seriously creeped the fuck out.

"Speaking of gifts, I would like to present my two brothers and I ask that you
bestow your kiss upon them as well." Beside him stood two other musicians, one
with a round frame drum and the other held an odd-looking violin-type
instrument. Both of the other musicians appeared to be scared to death.

Cassandra stepped toward the two brothers. They practically shook with terror.
"Are you sure I need to? They don't look too happy about being kissed."

"They must have your gift or they will not survive the evening." He leveled his
blazing eyes at the pair, promising retribution in their flaming depths. "They
will not be able to accompany me without it. They will accept your kiss or they
will be dragged away by the Holy Inquisition where their deaths will be painful
and slow."

'So much for brotherly love,' Cassandra thought with a flinch.

He motioned to the brothers.  A large man with a balding head and a huge
mustache came forward first. "Kneel," he was ordered by the Gypsy. The huge man
dropped to his knees.

The power whispered up from her inner sea and lapped at the very edge of her
thoughts. Gently Cassandra cupped his not so clean chin in her palm and looked
into his terrified eyes. Mouth open she kissed him. He opened his mouth under
hers, his tongue reaching out to stroke hers gently. Cassandra felt the warm
wave of power crest to the surface then pour into the captive Gypsy.

He fell back stunned and blinking. His eyes glazed then blazed forth with a look
of vicious triumph. Sitting up he grabbed the last one by his slender arm and
shoved him to his knees before Cassandra.

The slender boy, no more than eighteen, gulped in fear but bravely tilted his
chin up for his kiss and closed his eyes. Cassandra touched her lips gently to
his then felt the power arc and slam into his young frame.

He collapsed back onto the floor stunned for a moment. After shaking himself
like a wet dog, he rose with an ugly laugh then stalked over to his brothers to
slap them on the back. All three stood in a half circle by Cassandra and smiled
in ways their human mouths had never intended.

"You may call me Andre," bowed the first Gypsy, the gold coins glittering on his
coat in the candlelight. "And I am completely at your service my Lady. He is
called Balthazar," Andre continued as he gestured toward the larger mustachioed
Gypsy.

"I am at your service, Lady," the large Gypsy with the bristling mustache bowed.

"And I am Nickos," bowed the smallest of the three. "I am also at your service.

"We are all at your service," they said in unison. All three sets of black eyes
glittered with unholy light as they smiled in a completely inhuman manner. They
all dipped into another bow then turned as one and strode away. In a far corner,
they settled onto cushions thrown on the marble floor, under a lit candelabrum,
to tune their instruments. They watched her with hunger glittering in their
eyes.

'Okay, so that was just a bit too weird, even for me,' she thought to herself.
'I wonder if that was a smart thing to do?' Nonplussed, Cassandra moved away
from them and started doing leg-stretching exercises. Not an easy thing in the
bulky gown.

An army of servants suddenly poured silently from doors she hadn't realized were
there. Thick carpets were rolled out and laid on the marble floor. A throne-like
red velvet chair was carried in and a small table was set beside it with an
exquisite decanter of dark red wine. A single crystal goblet was set beside the
decanter.

A rope from the ceiling lowered a huge crystal chandelier. Candles were lit and
the chandelier was raised, glowing like a captive star and filling the room with
a blaze of light. Both fires were built up in the fireplaces to raging bonfires,
filling the room with heat. Just as suddenly, the servants rushed out in a
sudden tide of rustling fabric and withdrawing bodies. In minutes, Cassandra was
alone again with only the three musicians.

Only moments later, the tinkling of bells announced the main doors being opened.
Cassandra noticed the red hood and golden mane of the Monsignor as the curtain
was lifted for him.

Cassandra dropped into a graceful bow. 'I simply must remember how to do this
once I'm home!'

The Monsignor seated himself in the velvet throne with two hulking, blank-faced
guards at his back. One of the guards filled the glass from the decanter and
handed it to him. The Monsignor sipped the red wine reflectively then gestured
with two fingers.

"You may begin," he announced into the echoing silence.

The musicians struck a chord. In that instant she knew exactly what they were
going to play. The modern rock music translated strangely through their medieval
instruments, but the pounding tune was unmistakable. In response to their music,
Cassandra's Power surged to the surface, from every pore of her skin to wrap her
in a heated blanket. Cassandra felt a veil dropping over her eyes and thoughts.

'No!' she protested to the rising flood of demonic possession. 'I want to see
this!' The veil obligingly dropped away but her body was no longer hers to
command. The power inundated her completely and her possession was absolute. She
abruptly whirled in a circle cavorting to the smoky strains of the infernal
stripper music played by the possessed Gypsies.

The bejeweled pins flew from her flaming curls to scatter across the floor. The
golden ribbon in her hair slithered out, her deep red mane cascading about her
as she danced a raw mixture of Jazz steps with unbelievable ballet leaps.  Her
slippers were lost on a pair of highflying kicks. The ties across her bodice
came undone during a twirl and she froze, poised for a leap as the red velvet
gown swirled around her to puddle on the floor in a rich crimson heap.

The music shifted to a slow sensuous piece. Revealed in her sheer golden
chemise, she dropped to the floor and tiger walked, crawling with a slow feral
slink to the foot of the velvet throne. Gracefully, she rose to her knees, arms
lifted above her head, lips parted, and eyes slitted as though in carnal
delight. Arching backward she touched her hands to the floor then raised her
hips and spread her knees wide in invitation, showing her shaved mound and damp
inner lips peeking through the part of the golden slip.

Like a coiling snake, she slowly, slowly undulated her body then rolled over her
head and under. Kicking her feet over her head she lay face down on the floor,
legs spread wide. In true stripper form, she rolled to her side then bent her
knee and raised one leg smoothly. Her scarlet nails trailed red lines across the
tender skin of her inner thigh as she scored them aggressively. With an
acrobatic roll she twisted sharply then stood upright.

Glancing from beneath lowered lashes, Cassandra watched as the Monsignor's mouth
dropped open.  As though unable to help himself, he sat forward on the edge of
his throne. Taking this for an invitation, Cassandra's possessed body swayed
toward the young man to stand before him, her hips swaying and torso rolling
hypnotically from side to side. She raised her arms and exquisitely undulated
her entire body slowly before him, tempting him to reach out and undo the tiny
bows that held her golden chemise together.

She purred as he reached out his soft fingers and pulled the golden ribbon ties.
The chemise fell in a whisper of silk, revealing her pointed nipples and pouting
breasts. Her muscular stomach rolled under his warm fingers as he touched her
heated flesh. Slowly she turned to present her rounded buttocks, shaking them,
the flesh jiggling invitingly. She dropped her hands to the floor as she stood,
straight legged, presenting him with a close view of her most feminine flesh,
the folds parting to his hungry eyes.

"Not a mark on you," he said in wonder. "Not a single imperfection anywhere," he
sighed.

The music whirled her away and she danced as only naked flesh could, without
bindings or restraints. Her hair flying and muscles straining, she leapt and
rolled, shivered and displayed herself to the Monsignor's hungry gaze. And she
danced, and she danced.

"Enough!" the Monsignor suddenly shouted.

The music crashed to a halt and Cassandra fell in a graceful obeisance centered
on the carpet.

"Leave us!" he roared. The Gypsies rushed out but the guards were hesitant.

"Do you think I can't defend myself against one naked girl?" he shouted angrily.
The guards fled.

'Goody! Goody! Goody!' ran in hysterical circles through Cassandra's mind.
'Alone at last!'

"And now my sweet, come here," the Monsignor commanded.

She approached the throne creeping across the rug, eyes demurely lowered,
veiling her intent. On her hands and toes like a languorous cat advancing on the
poor unsuspecting pigeon.

Still wrapped in a warm sheet of demonic power, Cassandra's body slithered up
the throne without touching a single fold of his robes. Shyly, she gripped the
arms of the heavy wooden chair then leaned toward the seated Monsignor,
presenting her body for his perusal.

The Monsignor's palm touched the fine silk of her hair and he ran his fingers
through her soft tresses. His fingers trailed to the very ends of her curls
where they rested against her breast. His fingers continued across the softness
of her skin then cupped her fullness in his cool dry palm.

"You are exquisite, like a fine sculpture Serena," he whispered. His fingers
found and explored a dusky pink nipple. Little jolts of pleasure streaked
straight to her greedy pussy, making it contract hungrily. "I have never seen a
woman as fine as you. Where did you come from?"

"I'm from Canada," she whispered as she knelt before the velvet throne.
Naturally, the spell that the Magister placed on her scrambled her speech, not
that the Monsignor would have known where Canada was anyway.

"What a lovely voice," the Monsignor mused as his other hand reached out to cup
her other breast. "But, Lord Chevalier le Duc did tell me that you could not
speak our language although you would understand what was said."

Cassandra nodded, purring as he played with her nipples, exploring them then
gently tugging on them.

"And so, because you cannot speak, you cannot share secrets. Is that not so, my
little morsel?" His breath deepened to pants. His crystalline blue eyes were
dilated with restrained desire. He licked his full pink lips.

Cassandra nodded again.

"Good," the Monsignor growled in satisfaction then dipped his head to her breast
and took a nipple into his hungry mouth.

Cassandra moaned and turned her face carefully away. She could feel the blaze of
hell-fire heating her eyes.

He sucked hard on her sensitive nipple, cupping her breast and nursing as though
starved. A trembling hand slid down her lightly curved belly to touch her
trimmed mound. His fingers tugged at the short pelt sharply. A tiny whimper was
surprised out of her, which seemed to please him. His fingers dipped lower, to
her wet folds then he abruptly slid two fingers up into her.  Cassandra hissed
as he spread his fingers wide, scissoring them in her damp heat. She moaned in
pleasure and rocked against his hand like a cat seeking to be stroked.

"I have never touched a one as fine as you, Serena" he sighed. "You seem to be
enjoying it too. No whimpering refusals of piety from your red lips?"

Cassandra answered with a moan.

"No declarations of love either? Not that I would understand your gibberish," he
mused aloud in curiosity. "You are a carnal little thing, aren't you?" His voice
was low and hoarse, betraying his own rising carnal needs. "Down!" he commanded,
his voice harsh whisper. "Get on the floor."

Part Six:
Scourged

'It's about damned time he decided to fuck me,' Cassandra thought as dropped
full-length and face down on the thick carpet at the Monsignor's feet, staring
at his slippers. There was a rustle of fabric and she watched as heavy red
ecclesiastical robes landed on the floor by her head.

"Turn around and face the door, quickly!" snarled the Monsignor. "Now, bring
that lustful ass of yours up. Higher!"

Cassandra complied, presenting her softly rounded bottom and the plump folds of
her pussy to his view as he instructed. She turned to look over her shoulder. He
was wearing only a thin white silk shift tied with a knotted rope. He undid the
knot as she watched.

'Well, well, well,' she thought in surprise, noticing the pronounced bulge
tenting his robe. 'Who would have thought that such a little boy could hide such
a large package?'

"Keep your head down!" he snapped as he tugged the rope free. "Cross your
ankles."

Cassandra ducked her head, resting it on her folded arms as she complied with
his heated instructions. Crossing her ankles tucked her damp snatch within the
protection of her ass-cheeks. She angled her head just a tiny bit so she could
see him from the corner of her eye. He had wrapped the rope around his fist with
several of the knotted loops swinging free.

"I will purge myself of these filthy, lustful thoughts," he hissed.

'Oh SHIT!' Cassandra had time to think when she heard the rope whistling through
the air. It smacked into her left ass-cheek and she yelped more in surprise than
in any real pain.  Another whistle sounded then another loud smack, this time on
her right ass-cheek. She heard herself squeak and suddenly the blows were
raining too fast for her to react to all of them. The warm burn was strangely
pleasurable. From the strength of the arm he used to flog her, it should hurt a
hell of a lot more.

"I am a righteous man, I am a righteous man," she heard him muttering over and
over as he swung. She could hear him panting as he flogged her.

The Monsignor grunted in effort as he carefully placed his blows on her ass,
across her bowed back and around her thighs. The individual blows did not feel
all that harsh but one on top of the next succeeded in causing her to writhe as
her ass heated up quickly. She arched her back and whimpered against the
onslaught. Whimpering in agonizing carnal, feral excited appetite. He was
turning her on in a big way.

 "I will purge your body of its carnal hunger as I purge mine," he snarled
through clenched teeth. Then he stopped. Cassandra collapsed on the floor. Hot
tears slid down her flushed cheeks.

'These tears are absolutely fake,' she thought in surprise. 'Like crocodile
tears.' Cassandra thought to herself as she peeked at the panting Monsignor.
'I'm not in any real pain.'  If anything she was feeling very close to
climaxing. Her pussy was dripping down her thighs and on the rug. Spanking had
always been a sure way to turn her on in a hurry but this guy was serious and
the Monsignor sure knew what he was doing with that rope. She should have been
bloody.

The Monsignor came forward then knelt right in front of her and lifted her
tear-streaked face in his palms. His cock was standing practically straight up
against his belly under his loose transparent robe.

 "Forgive me, little one," he murmured as he touched her tears with gentle
fingers. His eyes grew hot as he stroked her face. "It was necessary," he said
softly. "It was for your own good. I did it to save your soul."

'Well, what do you know?' Cassandra thought sarcastically as she veiled her
eyes. 'He gets off on beating people to tears.' The power possessing her body
must have known exactly what the Monsignor had wanted because he was sporting
one hell of a hard on. The Monsignor curled his body over her face, practically
rubbing his erection against her lips.

'Hell! Even I can take a hint!' Cassandra thought in triumph. Her hands were
under his robe and around his iron hard cock in a flash. She slid the cock
sheath of his uncircumcised prick down, revealing the sensitive purple head.
Before he could pull away, Cassandra lunged forward then wrapped her lips around
the swollen knob. With a skillful shove on his bare ass, she tipped him off
balance over her body and sucked him deep into her throat. Straight down to the
short and curlies.

The Monsignor gasped as he fell on top of her body. He caught himself on his
hands, his nose practically buried in her reddened ass. He froze in astonishment
then choked as his body took over. His hips began to hunch, fucking her mouth.
He moaned out loud, unable to stop the course of pleasure through his young
body.

'I'm gon'na make this fucker cum...' Cassandra growled to herself. Using every
skill she could think of, Cassandra sucked for all she was worth. Her tongue
lashed the rock-hard cock sliding in and out of her heated mouth. She balanced
on her elbows, using her hands to massage his balls and milk his shaft. She
could feel how close he was to the edge, his movements were becoming frenzied
and he moaned as though in pain. 'Any time now,' she thought in delight.

The Monsignor gave a shout then abruptly rolled away, his cock still hard, his
lust still unfulfilled.

'Well shit,' thought Cassandra as she lay on the floor, her knees tucked up
under her. 'Now what? I never thought he'd last even that long.' Cassandra kept
her head down and peeked through her lashes. 'Damn.'

The Monsignor climbed to his feet and walked in a circle around her. Sexual
frustration was written in every line of his body. His eyes shone with feral
heat as his gaze devoured her prone form.

"Up!" he barked. "Up on your knees and we shall pray, my little carnal beast,"
he growled. "Together."

Cassandra quickly sat up on her knees pressing her hands together and bowing her
head in an attitude of prayer. The false tears started down her cheeks once
more. She sank down, sitting on her heels.

"I said up, you little beast!" The monsignor barked. The knotted rope made swift
contact with her still sore bum. Cassandra rose to balance on her knees with
some speed. To her complete surprise, the Monsignor dropped to his knees
directly behind her then scooted close, his knees straddling the outsides of her
shins. The light fur of his legs brushed against the smooth softness of the
stockings she still wore. He wrapped his arms around her body; his hands clasped
her pressed palms then lifted her hands until her breasts were completely
exposed.

"We shall pray for forgiveness, for the lust that consumes us. The very devil in
our bodies," he growled in her ear.

'Little does he know!' Cassandra choked.

"We shall pray for resistance against temptation." The Monsignor then began to
loudly recite prayers in Latin with vigor.

Cassandra noted that he was breathing heavily between phrases. There was also
something hot and firm pressing against her ass. With just the tiniest bit of
angling, she was able to work that heated prong into the crack of her ass.

The Monsignor continued unabated in his efforts to pray. His body however, began
swaying, with his hard cock sliding along the seam of Cassandra's firm ass.
Using the Monsignor's own momentum as he rocked in fervent prayer, Cassandra
carefully worked his hard cock down her ass. With a bit of creative maneuvering
she was able to get him to slip into the juncture of her plump thighs and up
against her dripping pussy. His swollen cock-head seemed to know where it wanted
to go and pressed against her wet opening as they rocked.

'Just a smidgeon more,' Cassandra thought in grinding frustration. She spread
her knees a teeny amount wider then shoved back just a little. His cock-head
slid just a bit into her moist opening then out. The Monsignor continued to sway
and rock, his shaft cradled snugly in her thighs, his knob slipping into her wet
nether mouth slightly then back out, then in, then back out.

The Monsignor's prayers continued in Latin but his hands had slid down until he
was openly cupping her breasts. Cassandra held her clasped palms in place,
letting him squeeze the voluptuous weight of her full breasts, his fingers
closing over her swollen nipples as though unable to stop himself. Pleasure
began to coil in her belly.

'I hope he doesn't chicken out again!' she thought with determination.

The Monsignor locked one arm around her and started to push his cock harder and
deeper into her depths as he swayed. His prayers grew louder and more fervent.
Suddenly he was in, buried to the hilt, sinking into her as deep as his flesh
would allow, stretching her wide, his balls pressing against her. She grunted as
he clasped a breast painfully in one hand and pressed his palm against her belly
to hold her still in his grasp.

Cassandra felt the heat of her demonic power coil through her loins and center
around the cock in her pussy then make a grab.

 She felt the Monsignor shift his weight. Suddenly he was fucking her in
earnest, his thighs slapping against her ass loudly in the echoing chamber as he
hammered into her. She shuddered under his fevered thrusts. Still he continued
in Latin, his phrases breaking as he panted, shafting her for all he was worth.

The Latin phrases broke completely with the Monsignor repeating himself over and
over, calling out to his God. Cassandra felt him shudder then howl as he came in
her. Caught off guard, Cassandra suddenly came herself, in a wash of demonic
heat moaning in shattering rapture.

The Monsignor collapsed on top of her, "What have I done? My purity! I've lost
my purity," he sobbed.

"Got'cha!" Cassandra hissed as she rolled out from under the shattered priest
then stood up.

"Witch! You seduced me!" the Monsignor hissed through his tears. "I'll have you
burned Witch!" he snarled as he lay on the floor.

"No stupid, I'm not just a witch." Cassandra grinned, showing him the full glory
of her flame lit eyes.

"Damned!" he choked out realizing what her flaming eyes meant. He flung out an
arcane gesture. Nothing happened, his power was no more.

 "That's one way to put it. I'm a demon." She giggled, just a little. "And your
spells don't work. You're not a virgin anymore pretty boy!" Cassandra hissed.
Using her demon-borne strength, she pulled him almost violently, onto his feet
by his throat. Gazing deep into his eyes she took his lips in a leisurely heated
kiss, her tongue sweeping into his mouth to taste the ashes of his arousal.

Part Seven:
Poetic Justice

"Guards! Guards!" the monsignor choked, scrabbling to break Cassandra's powerful
hold on his throat with both hands straining against her small wrists.

A corona of heat washed from Cassandra's skin, surrounding her in an aura of
flame. Her body jerked and shuddered, dropping the priest to the floor, as the
demonic presence flooded to the surface. Her mouth opened and words popped out
deepened and heavy with infernal sibilance.

"Hmm... Let us go somewhere more private..." Her hand raised and slashed the air
in a ripping motion.

'That did not come from me!' Cassandra thought in alarm, suddenly realizing that
she was merely a passenger in her own body.

The room darkened until only the throne and the rug were visible, lit by the
light that came from her flaming skin. Then she realized that there were no
walls, only complete and utter darkness past the edge of the rug. The world had
gone somewhere else leaving Cassandra and the Monsignor who had fallen to the
floor in horror.

"Why don't we make ourselves a little more comfortable as well?" said the deep
voice from her mouth. Cassandra shuddered, crying out as she felt her spine
twist and tremble. Tiny horns erupted sharply through her skin from each
vertebra then her spine lengthened impossibly to become a lashing tail. She felt
biting pains in her head as horns twisted from her temples and her ears reshaped
themselves to points. Her jaw opened on lengthening serrated teeth. Smarting
from her fingers and toes heralded their expansion to sharp claws.

"That's better," said the voice. She rolled her shoulders and a pair of huge
bat-wings unfolded and spread wide. "Now, what shall we do with you?" hissed
from Cassandra's mouth. Her hand tapped a clawed finger against one spiral horn
in thought. "Let us see. There is always torture..." puzzled the power.
Cassandra found herself pacing before the gibbering priest. "And then perhaps
dismemberment?"

'No! Wait!!' Cassandra thought in sudden terror. 'I don't want to actually kill
the guy!'

"What would you suggest then?" the presence suddenly asked her.

"Who me?" Cassandra jolted.

"I should have known," the priest was whimpering. "You're a woman, an agent of
Lucifer. Females are the embodiment of evil..." he was sobbing. "All women are
spawn of the devil... I should have guessed..."

Cassandra was suddenly inspired. 'I have an idea... How much power do you really
have?' she asked the presence 'Can you...?'

The presence listened to her thoughts then laughed long and hard from her mouth.
The sound echoed in the great emptiness all around, like something from one of
the nastier horror movies.

'And then, on top of that, I have a plan,' Cassandra added with a vicious grin.
The demonic presence listened some more.

"It shall be done," growled the voice.

Cassandra felt a huge gathering of power, as though the demon was taking a
humongous deep breath. It swelled her body to practically bursting then cannoned
out of her mouth in a flaming thundering howl, directly at the cowering priest.

The priest was enveloped in a cannonade torrent of flame. He shrieked in
piercing agony.  He screamed and screamed as fast as he could draw breath. The
sound pitched higher and higher until the sound and register was too high for
any man's voice, raising the hair all over Cassandra's body in reaction. Then
the demon stopped.

"Will this suffice?" asked the presence, rather smugly.

Cassandra was astounded.  The Holy Inquisitor, Monsignor Casca Renaldo Cervantes
of the Holy Order of the Dominicans had been transformed by demonic power into a
beautiful girl.

She lay naked and panting face up on the rug. Her skin was pale and luminescent;
her face had been softened into a painter's dream with full pink lips, golden
winged brows, a straight patrician nose and golden eyes framed in sooty lashes.
Hair in long golden waves cascaded over her shoulders and pooled on the floor
around her sweetly figured slender body.

"Wow, you do good work," Cassandra complimented the demonic presence. "Very,
very pretty."

"Are you going to kill me?" whispered the girl.

"Believe it or not, you are not going to die," Cassandra grinned. "I have
something else completely, in mind for you.

"What's wrong with my voice?" she asked somewhat louder then she sat up. "Oh, my
God!" she squeaked as she cupped her own full breasts in surprise. In a panic
she reached down between her legs and discovered the more fundamental changes.
"What have you done to me?" she wailed.

"I think it's called Poetic Justice?" quipped the demonic voice from Cassandra's
mouth.

"And this is only the beginning!" added Cassandra. "Andre, Balthazar and
Nickos!" Cassandra called out in a voice laced with power. "Come before me!"

In a burst of flame all three musicians appeared before her kneeling. "We have
come," they said in unison.

"I have a gift for you," Cassandra said softly and she gestured at the pretty
blond huddled on the floor.

All three Gypsies turned and looked. They rose with feline grace and slowly
approached the exquisite beauty. Like sharks, they circled her.

"What are you looking at?" the golden maiden snapped, looking up in defiance.

"Perfection," breathed Balthazar. Andre's hand reached out from behind her and
caressed the silk of her hair. She turned to look and Nickos finger ran down her
satin shoulder. She turned again and Balthazar cupped her full breast and ran a
thumb over a pouting nipple.

 "Go away," she crossed her arms protectively over her breasts. Sudden
primitive, feminine fear raced across her features. "Leave me alone." She
whimpered.

"Gentlemen," called Cassandra. "The idea is to make her like it; to make her
want it. No real rough stuff, be gentle, it's her first time," Cassandra smiled.

"You have given us a virgin?" Andre asked in astonishment.

"Yes, she is a virgin, and I expect you gentleman to introduce her to the arts
of love so well, that she parts those creamy thighs for anyone who asks. Make
her cum and cum and cum some more..." she finished in a hiss.

"No!" screamed the frightened maiden, who suddenly understood exactly what
Cassandra, had in mind. She rose up on delicate feet, trembling in terror. She
looked about, but there was literally, nowhere to run.

The Gypsies began to disrobe, dropping their clothes where they stood. Cassandra
got a good look at them and winced. She consulted with her demonic presence and
they came to an agreement.

"All right boys, come over here first," Cassandra called. The demon gathered a
deep breath of infernal power then blasted all three with a short burst of its
fiery howl. The Gypsies were suddenly clean and well groomed, handsome even.

"Very nice," commented Cassandra. "Very nice indeed. Now one more thing before
the party really begins..." The demon spat a short burst of power and large
pillows in every shape, color and design plopped from the upper darkness to the
floor. There was a flare of fire and torchiers burst into life at all four
corners, casting a golden glow over the entire expanse of the rug.

"That should make things comfy." Cassandra nodded in contentment then walked
over to the huge velvet throne and took a seat on the scarlet cushions. The tail
and huge wings gave her a moment of trouble but she scooted just a bit forward
and hooked one leg over the arm. 'Best seat in the house,' she mused.

"Let the festivities begin!" announced the infernal presence.

The maiden bolted for the edge of the carpet with all three gypsies in hot
pursuit. They caught her at the carpet's edge when she hit the wall of nothing
with a rubbery bong. Balthazar slung her squealing, over his shoulder. He
completely ignored her tiny fists as they pummeled his heavily muscled back. He
laughed and slapped her ass. He carried her kicking and squirming back to the
pile of cushions right in front of the throne. With a shrug, she was dropped
onto the pillows.

Andre grabbed her wrists; slender Nickos grabbed one ankle and Balthazar the
other ankle. They spread her wide and smiled down on the helpless girl. She
screamed. As one, all three dove.

Andre fastened his mouth on a full breast and slathered his tongue across the
creamy white expanse. He captured a nipple and began suckling. Nickos took
possession of her other breast and tender nipple. Balthazar dove between her
satiny thighs, straight for her golden pussy. Warm brown fingers stroked and
teased smooth creamy skin. Lips and tongues bathed sensitive flesh with strokes
and tender nips.

Balthazar used his broad shoulders to advantage, spreading her thighs wide. His
mouth sucked and slurped, lapping at her pink pussy flesh. His tongue speared
her tender clit then flicked. Using the full length of his tongue, he slowly
licked and tasted her from clit to bum hole.

Her screams of fear became moans of enjoyment as her female body responded to
the inflaming caresses. She raised her hips against Balthazar's mouth; her hips
beginning to work as the climb to pleasure began to beckon toward ecstasy. 

Nickos suckled and lightly pinched her tender young breasts to rigid excitement. 
His hands cupped her fullness. His thumbs brushed the stiff peaks as he sucked
first one pink nipple then the other, using long tongue strokes to bathe her
breasts in his saliva.

Andre stroked his tongue up her sensitive throat and across her jaw as he ran
his fingers through her long golden tresses. Gently he captured her head,
fisting his hands in her fair hair. He stroked the tender shell of her ear with
the tip of his tongue then breathed in her ear, creating erotic shivers.

His tongue found and explored the warm fullness of her closed lips. Soothingly,
lovingly he brushed and caressed her lips with his until she opened to him with
a soft sigh. Lightly he stroked her tongue with his until she began to stroke
back. Softly he deepened the kiss until she opened wide and he took possession
of her mouth completely.

Balthazar speared his tongue deep into her pussy and wiggled, sucking hard. Her
eyes widened as she began to crest into an orgasm. Balthazar pushed his tongue
in deeper, stroking and sucking. Pearly cream slicked his face and she shuddered
as a wave of shrieking culmination slammed through her tiny frame. Her
whimpering cries of bliss were captured in Andre's mouth. Her convulsions of
carnal joy were held fast by Balthazar and Nickos's arms.

"Yes," Cassandra hissed in satisfaction. "That's it, make her want it."

Nickos slid up her body and took her mouth as Balthazar took possession of her
soft breasts. Andre moved between her quivering thighs and slid a finger into
her tight wet depths, his thumb pressing against the tiny protruding clit. Still
rolling in languorous bliss, she rolled her hips and Andre's finger pressed
against her maidenhead.

"Mistress," Andre asked very softly, barely audible above the maiden's moans of
pleasure. "Would you care to be the first?" His eyes gleamed pure yellow in the
flickering shadows.

"Mmm, what a pleasant idea, Andre!" Cassandra leaned forward then rose from the
scarlet throne. "I think I shall." There was a pooling of heat in her pussy and
a hard orgasmic shove. The demonic presence chuckled throughout her body.

Cassandra stepped away from the throne in a graceful move then reached down and
caressed her own cock.  She gently explored its weight and dimensions. She
stroked it and shivered with pleasure as it filled and lengthened. Strangely
enough, she still had her pussy fully intact. Apparently a clitoris really was a
tiny penis. The demonic presence dwelling in her body expanded her clit to epic
proportions. She suddenly possessed a working uncircumcised cock.

With a thought, Cassandra conjured a pot of the thick scented oil that had been
used on her earlier at the Magister's palace. Gracefully she scooped up two
fingers worth and smoothed it down her heated shaft. She moaned as she rubbed
the oil over the purpling cap then back down and under.

With a smile and a wink she leaned way over and handed the pot of oil to Andre,
positioned between the maiden's quivering, unsuspecting thighs. He took a
generous dollop and slathered it all over his shaft and over his balls for good
measure. Keeping it out of the maiden's view, he passed the jar to Nickos who
used a generous helping himself. Nickos then passed it to Balthazar.

As the golden maiden moaned and twisted, writhing under the pleasure from
Nickos's and Balthazar's combined tongues, Andre lifted her bottom and placed a
firm pillow under her hips. He then spread her wide with his shoulders and
tongued her, slurping noisily.

Urgent whimpers marked her rise to passion. Nickos and Balthazar effectively
blocked the maiden's view and Cassandra knelt. Andre moved from between her
knees and Cassandra took his place.

Balthazar shifted, moving to the maiden's head and taking her wrists. He pulled
her taught, arching her back like a well-drawn bow. Nickos shifted, allowing the
maiden to see Cassandra positioned between her thighs, poised above the damp
entrance to her virginal pussy. Her spined tail lashed and her massive batwings
waved obscenely above them all.

"And now, my sweet Monsignor, it is time to divest you of your virginity once
again," hissed Cassandra. She gave a serrated smile, her long tongue running
over her fangs.

Part Eight:
Debauched

"Oh, God! What are you doing?" the delicate blonde, who had once been the
Monsignor, whimpered as fright and pleasure convulsed through her. The maiden's
crystal blue eyes opened wide as Cassandra leaned over her, clawed carmine
fingertips lightly scoring the nubile breasts, pulling delicately on the pink
nipples.

"It's time to fuck you, my sweet," murmured the demoness. Cassandra lifted the
maiden's knees spreading her wide to make room for herself. Cassandra's demonic
cock rose in a saber-curve to her belly button.

The maiden cried out and twisted. Nickos grabbed one thrashing leg and Andre the
other, holding her fast. Cassandra leaned over her and gripped the maiden's
shoulder in a clawed hand, breast to full breast, cunt to cunt, pinning her body
beneath Cassandra's. The pulsing cock a threatening, heated weight pressed
between their bellies.

"This is probably going to hurt, my sweet." Cassandra could feel a strange feral
hunger boiling in her gut at the thought of causing pain. She squashed the
thought, but the hunger remained.

The maiden burst into violent gasping tears. "No, please don't!"

"I understand." Cassandra smoothed the hair from the maiden's sweating brow
tenderly. "I know what you're going through. I was once a virgin myself, where
you are now," she said soothingly to the frightened girl.

"Trust me," she felt herself smile with all her sharp teeth as the demonic
manifestation made its presence known. "You're going to love it when I'm
through," Cassandra's voice growled with power.

Cassandra took possession of the maid's soft pink lips and kissed her, muffling
the maidens protesting cries and her own troubled thoughts with her agile
tongue.

With one hand she firmly pressed the head of her new cock against the slippery
entrance to the maiden's body as the gypsies held her secure in their grasp.
Resolutely she pushed against the tight opening, inserting the head between the
tight muscles that guarded her entrance. Then she shoved with her hips.
Cassandra's slid her cock partway into the struggling maiden stopping when she
felt the maidenhead barrier against the tip of her cock.

'Damn! Now I know why all those guys were in such a hurry to get in my cunt!
This feels too damn good!' Cassandra was panting to thrust in and bury herself.

'It wouldn't take much power to extend this cock, make it bigger, longer,
sharper... to impale... to kill...' The thought of fucking her to death swam in
a tempting red wave through her mind, like warm blood. Cassandra froze as she
felt the subtle heat of the demonic presence moving seductively through her
thoughts, and her body.

'Whoa! Hey, that is so Not what I'm trying to do here!' She jerked her mind back
from the edge. She clamped down mentally, getting a tighter grip on her
thoughts, on the power. She could feel the heated chuckle of the presence as it
slid back, allowing her to resist its dark temptations. 'Man, that was just a
little too close,' Cassandra gritted her teeth as she mentally shook herself.

Holding herself very still, she deepened her kiss, concentrating, using her
tongue to calm the terrified girl, and herself. She took a tender breast into
her palm and pulled lightly on the nipple. The maiden shuddered under her and
Cassandra felt her tender pussy dampen and contract then relax around
Cassandra's engorged cock.

Cassandra gripped the maiden's shoulder tighter as she continued to kiss her.
Then she bucked, lunging in hard, breaking the resistance to her womb, and
possessing her utterly. The maiden's cries were lost in Cassandra's mouth as
Cassandra's cock sundered her maidenhead.

The heat and slippery tightness wrapped Cassandra's man-flesh to the root.
Gulping, Cassandra pulled back, breaking the kiss and lunged in again, wrapped
in extreme pleasure.  Nipples rubbed against nipples as she lunged in, soft
rounded belly to soft rounded belly. Then she lunged again, then again and
again.

The maiden's cries of protest fell on deaf ears, as Cassandra got lost in the
moist, gripping pleasure of fucking. She moved a hand to take hold of the
maiden's ass, angling just right until she could feel herself rubbing against
something particularly delicious deep inside the maiden's cunt.

Cassandra's pleasure invoked an answering heat from her demonic presence.
Excitement and infernal power washed from Cassandra's skin. Her wings began to
beat as she strove to drive herself deeper and deeper into the maiden's body.
Her tail lashed about as pleasure began to peak. She barely noticed as the
maiden's cries turned to moans of brutal pleasure as the power began forcing her
toward an echoing orgasm. The maiden's hips rose against Cassandra's.

"You like being fucked, don't you?" whispered Cassandra, panting as she pumped
herself into the maiden's body. "You want to be fucked, don't you?" she pressed
as she thrust herself in and in and in. "Don't you?" she insisted.

"Yes!" moaned the straining girl beneath her, "God yes!"

"Say it!" hissed Cassandra as she deliberately slowed her rhythm. "Say it!' she
growled.

"I like being fucked," whimpered the golden maiden. She raised her hips in a
voluptuous roll, rising against Cassandra's strokes.

"Say it louder, my sweet, the men can't hear you," insisted Cassandra. "Tell me
to fuck you and I'll give you pleasure like none you have ever known."

"I like being fucked!" she wailed. "I want to be fucked. Fuck me!" she screamed.

Cassandra fell atop her, redoubling her strokes, rolling into them,
breast-to-breast, her pubic bone grinding against the maiden's tender clit. She
could feel the walls of the maiden's cunt grabbing and squeezing her cock,
pulling, milking. The maiden's hips lifted, hammering back against Cassandra's
powerful strokes.

A blaze of shuddering heat washed over Cassandra. She buried herself as deep as
she could go and she found herself rigid with brutal carnal rapture. As the
roiling burn of her climax clawed through her, the volcanic pleasure of liquid
sliding through her straining cock and exploding into the waiting shuddering
body was rapturous. She pulled away then slid back in to prolong the intense
feelings. Then again...

The maiden shrieked and shuddered hard as Cassandra's demonic orgasm slammed
into her and through her, forcing the maiden to crest and fall into a vicious
ecstasy of her own.

Rising to her knees, Cassandra looked up to see the three Gypsies gripping their
own iron hard erections in their fists, their eyes agleam with hunger.

'And nobody's dead or even really hurt.' She wiped the sweat and tousled scarlet
hair from her face and smiled. Using her wings for balance, she arose, none too
steadily and backed away. Her cock was still semi-hard and baptized in the
maiden's virginal blood. Smears of blood decorated the maiden's trembling thighs
and the pillow beneath her.

Her demonic presence shifted letting her feel its enjoyment, its pleasure at the
sight of the scarlet stains.

Cassandra hoped it would be satisfied with that. That was all the blood she
wanted to spill. 'Lets just hope I can keep it that way.'

Part Nine:
Finishing Touches

'Damn, what a rush!' Cassandra fanned her gigantic wings to cool her fevered
skin. "That ÷as one hell of a fuck," she panted breathlessly as she stumbled
over to the throne to sit. The demonic presence moving under her skin agreed. It
had enjoyed the ride immensely.

Andre hurriedly took Cassandra's place between the despoiled maiden's thighs.

"Wait, I have another idea," Cassandra called out as inspiration struck yet
again. "Andre, turn over on your back and have her riding you."

Andre dropped onto the pillows then rolled over onto his back. Balthazar and
Nickos lifted the exhausted, freshly fucked maiden. They lowered her onto Andre,
who pulled her unresisting thighs over his. With a grip on her plump ass, he
shoved into her cum-slick pussy in one stroke, moaning in gratification.

"Yes, " said Cassandra. "Now Balthazar, don't you think it's time to show her
how to suck a man's cock?"

Balthazar grinned nastily behind his luxurious mustache and took up position
kneeling at her head. His cock was huge and very rigid. As Andre flexed his ass
and thrust up into her body, Balthazar lifted her head by her damp golden hair
then slid his cock into the maiden's panting, moaning mouth.

"Keep it gentle, boys," she reminded them. Balthazar flashed her a look of
resentment then changed his hold on the maiden's hair. Cassandra felt a dark
shift in her mind.

"Suck it my precious," growled the huge gypsy. "Suck it hard." He got up on his
knees and slid himself against her tongue. He stroked slowly, encouraging the
maiden to take him as deeply as she could. Balthazar moaned long and hard as the
maiden took him willingly if not eagerly. Her throat opened and his balls
pressed against her drooling chin.

"Nickos, I have something very special in mind for you." Cassandra guided the
smallest gypsy between the straining thighs of Andre and the groaning maiden.
With her own hand, Cassandra slathered the thick oil onto Nickos's long, slender
cock. "She has one more virgin hole left to exploit, my dear boy, and I want you
to do it."

Nickos licked his lips, eyes agleam with ravenous expectancy. He bent over the
straining couple then delicately parted the maiden's plump ass-cheeks. He rubbed
a greased finger against the small brown rose he found.

"Gently," reminded Cassandra.

The maiden moaned around Balthazar's saliva-slicked shaft as Andre slammed his
hard cock into her dripping pussy. Her brown bum-hole relaxed as the maiden
surrendered to the multiple pleasures. Nickos's finger slipped into the opening
rose and he greased inside her back passage, pumping progressively deeper into
her virgin ass. He pulled his finger out then gradually drove two greased
fingers into her and pumped them in and out.

The maiden began to shudder with urgency.

"Quickly Nickos," Andre gasped. "We're almost there."

Nickos repositioned, pulling his fingers from her tight ass. Gripping himself
firmly, he pressed himself against the well-oiled tiny wrinkled rose. There was
a moment of tension then it opened. Nickos sank himself slowly, slowly in. The
maiden shuddered from the invasion but was held immobile between Andre and
Balthazar. Nickos sank to his balls then began to pump gaining speed until he
was fucking her ass in time with Andre's slapping strokes in her dripping pussy
and Balthazar's thrusts down her throat.

Together all three began fucking in rhythm with each other. Balthazar slid into
her sucking throat then Andre drove himself into her quivering wet pussy then
Nickos pushed into her tight bowels between her trembling, clenching ass cheeks.
All three men began moaning as their crisis quickly became imminent.  Beneath
them all, the maiden shuddered from the combined pressures and pleasures of the
three straining men.

The maiden began to wail around Balthazar's cock. She worked herself against
Andre and Nickos, fucking them back as their cocks rubbed against each other,
separated by only a thin wall of her flesh. Andre shifted a hand and pulled on
her hardened nipples. They fucked harder and harder, racing toward ecstasy.
Sweat gleamed on all four bodies. Moans and grunts punctuated by wet slaps of
flesh against wet flesh filled the echoing darkness.

The maiden shuddered and rocked as brutal pleasure slammed her over the edge.

Balthazar howled as his cum geysered out, pouring down her throat and dripped
from her lips.

Andre's hoarse voice cried out as he went rigid from beneath. He grabbed the
maiden's hips and buried himself as far as he could go, rising up on his heels
to pour his cum into the maiden's all too willing flesh.

Nickos panting shouts joined the chorus as he fell atop them, burying himself in
the maiden's straining ass to the balls and pumped his cum into her virginal
bowels.

All four fell apart amongst the pillows in sated bliss.

"Now isn't that a pretty picture?" Cassandra asked the demonic presence. "There
is just one more little detail to wrap up..."

"I must admit," it responded after a moment of contemplation. "It was indeed
entertaining, but don't you want her to suffer just a little more? Have just a
little more pain? See little more - blood?"

Cassandra fought to keep a hold on herself as the power washed her mind in
splashes of red, painting a gruesome picture full of sated, unholy hungers. She
gripped the arms of the chair, her claws digging deep furrows in the wood. She
felt the power growing and stretching, preparing to take over and make the
ravenous red dream a reality.

"Look at it this way," Cassandra offered as she panted under the deliciously
tempting onslaught. "We can make her suffer, really suffer for a few hours or we
can do it my way and make her suffering and humiliation go on for years." She
felt it hesitate and consider her plans. It receded back; its appetites
unsatisfied but the idea of years of suffering mollifying it somewhat.

Cassandra sighed in relief as she rose from the throne. 'Let's get this over
with quick - before it changes my mind for me!' She closed in on the sleeping
maiden with a languid and somehow terrified laugh.

***

Cassandra materialized in a theatrical flash of flame and smoke by a massive
fireplace in a dark enshrouded library. She stood in all her winged, tailed
glory and sporting a hard-on. In her arms, she held the unconscious, naked,
cum-spattered body of the maidenly Monsignor.

The startled Magister Chevalier le Duc was seated in a huge wooden throne of a
chair. Carefully he put the black tome he had apparently been reading on a table
by his side.

"I have a gift for you," Cassandra announced in her power-deepened voice. Gently
she knelt, placing the golden maid on the expensive rug at the Magister's feet.
The flames gleamed on the maiden's cum-slicked creamy skin and golden hair.

"She's beautiful. Who is she?" The Magister asked in hushed, fearful tones.

"Once upon a time, she was called: The Holy Inquisitor, Monsignor Casca Renaldo
Cervantes of the Holy Order of the Dominicans."

The Magister's breath hissed in. "My God, how...?" he dropped to his knees
before the delicate sleeping girl.

"My orders were to take the Monsignor's virginity then deliver him to my
Infernal Master. Her virginity I have taken, twice actually, and you are my
Infernal Master here in Paris so..."

The maiden awoke to see the Magister leaning over her. "You..." she whispered.

"Now, she is merely a despoiled girl," Cassandra continued, "with no family, no
future and no name but what you give her. Will you take her?" Cassandra intoned.
"I guess you could call this my way of wrapping up loose ends. A finishing
touch."

"No!" the maiden cried out. She sat up and twisted around to look at demonic
Cassandra then back at the far more human Magister.

"Consider her a present," smiled a sweating Cassandra. 'Hurry, hurry,' she
mentally urged the Magister. She could feel a measure of impatience from her
demonic roommate. She had to get out of here before the power did something she
couldn't stop.

"Very well, I shall," the Magister, answered. "I'll take her." There was a
calculating gleam in his black gaze as he stared into her frightened blue eyes.

"No! You can't leave me with him!" the maiden whimpered.

 "Good, but I should warn you, she has been thoroughly debauched and she loved
every second of it. You'll have to watch her or she'll be fucking everything
including the dogs next," she finished with a flourish and a bow. The demonic
presence liked that image.

Calmly the Magister began to disrobe.

Sniffing, Cassandra suddenly realized that she could smell burning matches.
'Sulfur?' she thought curiously. The world decided to take that very moment to
go away. There was a whoosh and she was falling. Everything suddenly went very
weird.

Epilogue
Toronto, Canada in winter. Modern day...

"You changed the Holy Spanish Inquisitor into a girl?" Marco asked dumbfounded
as Cassandra soaked in the Jacuzzi. His black curls hung over his naked shoulder
as he sipped champagne while she bathed.

"And then I conjured a cock and took her virginity again! And after that I
called on the three Gypsies..." Cassandra waxed enthusiastic as she went into
glorious exquisite detail about the four-way gang-bang. "Oh, and then I dropped
her off with the Magister, who hasn't got a pretty girl in his whole palace,"
she finished with a flourish. "I almost didn't get him to fuck me at first
though."

"Not bad," Marco congratulated her. " And nobody died or was even dismembered.
Not bad at all!" He whistled in appreciation as he handed her a towel then a
silk robe. "Sounds like it was a close call there."

"It was. Very, very close," Cassandra said, thinking about the overwhelming
power and its red hunger for carnage. Cassandra's brow furrowed as she shrugged
into the silk robe. "So, what would have happened if I hadn't succeeded in
seducing the priest?"

"You'd still be there until you completed the Magister's command to take the
Monsignor's virginity, no matter how long it took."

"So, I would have been stuck in another place and time with a demonic roommate?"
Cassandra's eyes glittered with the possibilities, then thought again. A demonic
roommate that would grow more demanding, controlling and bloodthirsty the longer
she carried it.

She shuddered broodingly as she followed him from the luxurious bathroom to the
sunny breakfast nook by the kitchen, where brunch had been set out. Briefly, she
mused on the fact that she'd never been hungry her entire visit to medieval
Paris. 'Weird. I didn't want to eat a bite there the entire time. Now, I'm
starving.'

"You wouldn't have aged and you'd still be a full demon, but trust me, it
wouldn't have been fun." Marco assisted her into a chair at the heavily laden
table then seated himself. "When you take too long, you get assigned a Keeper."

"A Keeper? What's that?"

"It's a demon twice as powerful as you and very nasty. They're sent to 'help
you' finish your obligation." Marco shuddered delicately. "Even if it takes a
century or two."

"Not a friendly bunch, huh?" Cassandra asked as she scooped food onto her plate.
'I'd have to deal with something worse than my roommate? Oh, boy, that sounds
like fun,' she thought sarcastically.

"Trust me on this one. Keepers are ugly, spiteful, 'malicious' sons o'bitches,"
he said shaking his head vigorously. "Been there, done that. You 'don't' want to
go there," he said with a wave of his fork. "Keepers tend to leave messes. Big,
sloppy gruesome messes."

"So, basically, what you're saying, is that since I worship Satan, I'm going to
get summoned to play demon every now and again?"

"That's about it, in a nutshell. Once you've dedicated yourself to Satan, it
seems that He gets to call on you for assignments," Marco agreed.

"Where I go on a little vacation, play demon and then I'm back the same day I
left." She trembled as she sipped her coffee. "And, you knew about this all
along?"

"Done it myself a few times," he shuddered visibly and looked away. "I figured
your turn was coming up, but I had no idea when."

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Would you have believed me?"

"I guess not. If I hadn't just spent the last few days in medieval Paris myself,
I would have thought you were smokin' crack," she smiled, cringing inwardly.

"And this was only the first assignment," Marco said as he sipped his coffee.
His black eyes regarded her from over the rim of his mug. "Just remember, my
dear Cassandra, with demons, there's always more." Marco's eyes gleamed with a
brief spark of flame Cassandra had never recognized before.

Fini.


- Word Count - 19,035
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