#Yuriel is not mine

[onthegreenmountain]

esa Ashley es una bicha, a que sí

Una unión libre, una unión de hecho, juntado con mi compañera, mi señora, mi pareja, mi novia.

This unión libre is a concept I’ve been learning about since I arrived in Costa Rica just under 2 months ago. I’ve learned this set of terminology from ticos both rich and poor, educated and uneducated, overprivileged and under. But what eludes me, what challenges my assumptions, are the bounds of the commitment implied by such a relationship.

Cohabitation—he’s living with her, she’s pregnant out of wedlock, they’re living in sin—I know that it varies by region and subculture, but I was raised by the law of a playground rhyme: first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in the baby carriage. In Costa Rica, that order is not so fixed. When a couple moves in together, they are often already pregnant. They live together; they raise children together; they attend mass together; they are faithful to each other; they never marry. Not before the church or the state, at least. But what is marriage? Isn’t it this?

“I mean, why don’t you just get married?” I asked Silvia, the kitchen employee.

“What is the benefit?” she replied. “There is none for us. A wedding costs a lot of money: you have to get a marriage license, and you have to pay for a big party with a lot of people. And if it doesn’t work out? Pay even more money for a divorce. We don’t want to use our money that way.”

Many mornings in the chicken house, my mind wandered to ponder this concept. In the United States, at least in my family’s culture, ‘living together’ has a negative connotation. But when it implies the same fidelity, isn’t this type of free union simply the lack of an expensive certificate? In practically every other sense, it’s the same.

On a similar topic, a new friend of mine, Manuel, is the one-armed guard of the campus. He lost his arm about 15 years ago, after a tragic malfunction of agricultural machinery. After the accident, he received no pension or support neither from his former employers nor from the state, so he continues to work for a much lower wage in the guard house at the entrance of the campus. So it goes for the disabled in Central America.

Manuel is friendly and kind, and he sometimes leaves his post to join me and Marlon for afternoon coffee. One day last week, he was explaining to Marlon in quick, colloquial Costa Rican Spanish about a woman with whom he had a brief relationship a few months ago. He clearly assumed I could not follow the rapid flow of his telling of the story.

“She keeps saying she is pregnant with my son,” exclaimed Manuel.

“Well,” I said, entering the conversation for the first time, “Is that possible? Is it possible that you are the father?”

Manuel’s jaw dropped. He looked at Marlon.

Marlon smiled and shrugged, “She understands a lot of Spanish.”

Manuel paused for a moment, weighing how to continue what was meant to be a conversation between men. He decided to just explain the whole situation. This woman, he said, has been threatening him with photos of her supposed pregnant belly. Two problems: the belly in the photos is too far along in the pregnancy, and the photos never show the woman’s face.

“What, does she think you’re stupid?” I laughed. “That’s ridiculous.”

“She’s crazy,” Manuel agreed.

“She is obviously lacking something in the head,” I said. “You need to show her. Here’s what you should do: take a photo of your gut right after eating.”

Manuel was beginning to smile and Marlon was already starting to giggle, as they guessed how I would finish.

“Then,” I advised, “Send your photo to that woman. Tell her you’re pregnant—“

“Pregnant by her!” screamed both Manuel and Marlon in unison.

They both erupted into laughter, obviously very entertained by this suggestion.

“You know, I never would have thought of that,” said Manuel, looking at Marlon.

“She’s smart,” he said with feigned humility, as if showing off his entry in a contest for ‘best gringa’ at the county fair.

“I mean, I’m gonna do it. It’s a brilliant idea,” repeated Manuel.

“Oh, she’s brilliant,” said Marlon, lifting his eyebrows as he became more confident in the quality of his contestant.

I beamed.

Manuel and I exchanged numbers, and he texted me the photo he sent to the unfortunate ex-girlfriend. It’s a scream. Her response was also quite entertaining.

As Manuel and Marlon walked out of the building, they were still laughing. I barely heard Marlon say to Manuel, “She’s great, isn’t she?”

This happens often enough. The Costa Ricans assume I don’t understand because I usually listen quietly—that is, until I make an unexpected but witty quip that shows I understood the whole conversation.

That scenario happened this morning. Chico, who, especially for a maintenance man in a developing country, is an outstandingly picky eater, picked out all the tomatoes from his rice, to the detriment of his social standing at the breakfast table. Several of his coworkers teased him for being delicate and prissy about his food. The conversation moved on to animated discussions of fútbol and the inner workings of a motorbike, two subjects which hold absolutely no interest for me. Several minutes later, the kitchen manager asked the maintenance workers if they wanted the leftover eggs. Some assented; Chico declined.

“Chico wants more tomatoes,” I dryly called over my shoulder as I stood up for the coffee pot.

The entire table exploded into laughter.

To me, it wasn’t that funny, but they all laughed loudly with appreciation. Chico melted into his pile of rejected tomato bits.

Marlon chuckled heartily, “Oh Ashley, she’s a trip, ain’t she?”

I’m going to Marlon’s house for lunch on Sunday. He excitedly invited me a few days ago. I’ll finally meet his wife Ana and their daughter Melany. I already know their son, Yuriel. I can’t wait.

[charmscale]

A Demon’s Lust Chapter 2

Saban

I slept fitfully that night, chained as I was. Fortunately, demons typically don't need much sleep. I awoke to the light of dawn.

Dawn. I knew what it was, thanks to memories of this world I had absorbed from the wizard when she had summoned me, and others I had received when I pledged to her. But a memory of what a thing was, from the point of view of someone use to such things, did not do justice to this... this... This explosion of color and light. And, apparently, it happened every day, along with a mirror image of it known as sunset.

Days were another thing I was not use to. A regular period of light, followed by dark, followed by more light. There was a rhythm to it, like music, so totally unlike the chaos of the demon realm, where a darkness as black as pitch might be broken suddenly by harsh, blinding light for no discernable reason. Not that light was terribly common in the demon realm. Mostly, things were pretty dim there. Dim, and cold, or harshly hot. It was a land of chaotic extremes, where no mortal could survive for long.

My thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of a bell. Its simple tune echoed throughout the room. I closed my eyes, savoring the sound. Music. Yet another thing I knew only from another's memory.

My captor stirred under the covers. Her eyes slid opened, and she yawned and stretched. As she sat up, the covers slid away to reveal her naked breasts. Naked, and oh so tender. I longed to rend them, to make her scream, and beg for mercy.

Her eyes met mine. She frowned. "Have you been staring at me all night?" she asked testily.

I couldn't answer, of course. I just smiled with my eyes, trying to unnerve her.

She snorted, unimpressed, and slid out of bed to begin her morning routine. Once she was washed and dressed, she lifted a key off her bedside table and unlocked my cage. Another key undid my bonds. Finally, she slid the gag out of my mouth.

I smiled. "Good morning, mistress," I said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I trust you slept well?"

Then I doubled over in agony as she clenched her fist. I gritted my teeth, determined not to give her the satisfaction of hearing me scream.

"Once again," she told me, coolly, "I must remind you only to speak when spoken to. Now, clothe yourself. We must go down to breakfast."

As a greater demon, I was capable of materializing simple inanimate objects, as long as they were touching me. It wasn't a power I had used frequently. It took me a moment to remember how to do it, and then it took me several tries to find clothing she found suitable. In the end I wore tight black leather armor. As I was mostly immune to physical damage, there was no real point to it, but it seemed to make the wizard happy.

"You look good," she commented, a strange, almost hungry, look in her eyes. "Now, follow. Stay two paces behind me."

Anita

When I entered the great hall with my new demon, all of my fellow apprentices went quiet, and stared at me. I smiled. No longer would they consider me weak for not summoning. No longer-

A sixth level apprentice whistled. "What spell did you use? Summon eye candy?" She laughed, and her friends joined in, and then the rest of the hall.

"Lonely night?" another apprentice called.

"Nice ass!"

"Can I borrow him?"

"Want me to come by later, sweetheart?"

I ignored them, and stalked over to my usual table, where Marian was already seated. She was almost the only one not laughing. "Sit," I ordered the demon, pointing to a chair, and, silently, he sat. His eyes glowed red, and he glowered around the room. "Don't even think about it," I cautioned. "You know the rules." Although, with Trev, vibrating with mirth, nearby, it was tempting to make an exception.

Soon the talk returned to normal. I began to fill my plate from the dishes at the table. They had bacon today, and the cinnamon buns I favored. I began to feel better.

Marian laid her hand on my arm. "Is that a demon?" she asked, frowning.

"Yes. My new familiar," I told her, grabbing another cinnamon bun.

"Why?" she asked, still frowning. "I thought you hated demons."

"Things change," I told her, and then explained about the attack last night.

She whistled. "Wow. I never thought Trev would go that far. The Council of Masters has to listen to you about him now."

I sighed. "No, they don't. There is no evidence Trev was involved. Just Antona."

Her pretty forehead wrinkled in another frown. "Oh. That sucks." Her clouded eyes cleared, and she leaned forward eagerly. "I almost forgot! How did the date with you know who go?"

"Nonexistently," I told her testily. "He dumped me."

Her blue eyes widened in shock. "What? Why?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I answered.

"But-"

"I said I don't want to talk about it!" I snapped. It still hurt, the idea that I was somehow too good for Zek. The last thing I wanted was for Marian to get it into her silly head that the same thing applied to our friendship. We were both wizards, but I was by far the more powerful of us two. Marian was the best healer the kingdom had seen for some time, but healing was the only thing she could really do, while complex healing was one of the few things I was incapable of.

"Ok. Is that why he," she said, gesturing to the demon, "Looks like such a stud?"

"No! Well, yes. Sort of." I sighed. "I was trying to set his form, and I kind of got distracted."

Marian giggled. I glared at her. "Don't you start," I warned her.

"Sorry," she said. "It's just that you don't lose control like that very often. It's kind of sweet that, even though he dumped you, you know who can still distract you to that level."

I sighed. "Sweet it may be, but it's also dangerous. Any loss of control is dangerous, especially when you're dealing with demons."

She shrugged, and smiled. "I forget, sometimes, that your magic is so much more dangerous than mine. I mean, if I lose control, the worst that might happen is I heal a bit more than I intended to, and get tired. If you lose control, you could kill someone. Especially now that you're controlling a demon."

I frowned at my familiar. He glared back at me hatefully. All this time, part of my attention had been on him, making sure that he didn't do anything other than what I had told him to do. Another part had been on the hall, alert for attack. The only time I ever really relaxed was when I was in my own rooms. Now I couldn't even relax there, unless the demon was chained up. I sighed. Sometimes I really wished I hadn't been born a wizard.

Marian had it easy. She had to be a bit wary, sometimes, but since she was no threat to anyone, everyone left her alone. It helped that they knew that, if they harmed her, they risked my wrath. The master wizards might also intervene for her where they would overlook harm to another, because she was such a good healer. The kingdom needed good healers much more than they needed powerfully dangerous wizards like me. Sometimes I was jealous of her safety, but, most of the time, I was glad. It meant that she retained her cheerful disposition and overall positive outlook. Unlike me.

Marian noticed me staring at my familiar. "Think he'd like a cinnamon bun?" she asked, eyes twinkling.

I sighed. "He's a demon, Marian. He doesn't need to eat."

"That doesn't mean he can't enjoy it." Before I could stop her, Marian handed the demon an apple. "Try that," she told him.

He looked down thoughtfully at the red fruit. Then, slowly, he took a bite. His eyes closed as he chewed, and he smiled.

Marian giggled. "He likes it!"

"Wonderful," I answered. Only one small corner of my attention was on my familiar and the apple. The rest was on the master wizard who had just entered the hall.

There were only 13 master wizards in the entire kingdom. Any 12th level journeyman who wanted the title could challenge one of the current masters for their position and duel with him or her, or wait for a master to retire, and duel other 12th level journeyman wizards to the death for the honor. There were seven masters in the castle now. The one who had just entered the hall was Yurial, an elderly man who was close to retirement. In fact, many thought he should have retired a while ago, when his eyesight had begun to fail him. No one who had dueled him thus far had managed to replace him, however, so he retained his title.

The hall began to quiet down as he entered, and was completely silent by the time he had made it to the podium at the front of the hall.

"I have a few announcements to make," said the elderly wizard, using magic to make his quavering voice audible to the entire hall. "Firstly, you may have noticed that one of your fellow apprentices, Antona Liris, is missing from this hall today. She was killed last night when she attacked the apprentice wizard Anita Kirith." He paused for the murmur that ran through the hall. From a nearby table, Trev glared daggers at me. I wondered why they had asked Yurial to make the announcement of her death. It seemed cruel. She had always been one of his special favorites.

"Also, King Hector has decided to make a few changes to policy. Firstly, the 12th level apprentices are now all required to participate in the duels at the end of the year."

The outcry at this was much greater. I turned white. Because of this change in the rules, Marian, who had been a 12th level apprentice for 3 years, would be forced to duel another apprentice at the end of the year. In other words, soon. And, with only healing magic to call on, she would die. Marian began to sob.

"Quiet! Quiet, please!" Yurial boomed over the noise. Slowly, all the apprentices quieted. "Secondly, there is now a way for apprentices to become journeymen without dueling. They may petition the council of masters and the king for special dispensation. Both the majority of the council, and the king, must approve for the apprentice wizard to advance." His announcements done, Yuriel left the hall. Immediately, talk started up again.

"It's okay," I told Marian, whose lovely face was now streaked with tears. "We just have to get you special dispensation, is all. We'll petition the council. You know they value your healing magic, so they'll definitely approve it."

"But the king," Marian whispered, falteringly.

"We'll go to court in person to petition the king," I told her. "And I'll keep my mouth shut and wow everyone with my magic, and you'll charm the heck out of everyone, and then there's no possible way he'll say no."

Marian smiled though her tears. "But you hate court," she said.

"I hate demons, too. And that didn't stop me from doing what needed to be done," I told her with finality. "I'll go to court with you, and you'll get your special dispensation. You'll be fine."

Saban

The apple didn't taste anywhere near as good as the wizard's blood and magic had last night, but it was new to me, and, thus, something to be savored. I closed my eyes to analyze the flavor, so very different from that of flesh or blood.

I barely paid attention while the elderly wizard made his announcements, except to note that he had made my "mistress," Anita, very upset. No upset enough to distract her from me, unfortunately. Marian, the one who had given me the apple, was crying. I wanted to reach over, to touch her, to feed, but I could feel Anita's attention on me, and I knew I would not be allowed to do so.

Then Anita and Marian talked. Apparently we would be going to court to see the king. I smiled. If I broke the binding while we were there, I could easily take over the kingdom.

I spent the morning following Anita to various classes. I played the perfect obedient slave, hoping to lull her into a false sense of security. It didn't work as well as I hoped. Anita still watched me suspiciously out of the corner of her eye, and I could feel her attention. Lunch was uneventful, until Marian offered me a piece of ham. Anita rolled her eyes, but let her. She appeared to have a soft spot for her friend. Maybe I could use that…

After lunch, and a quick trip to the library, we went back to Anita's room, and I was forced back into the cage. I struggled as best I could, but, with the binding in place, was unable to hurt her. It was... Frustrating. Very frustrating. I promised myself that, eventually, she would suffer for this. Oh, yes, she would suffer…

As the afternoon turned to evening, I noticed that Anita seemed distracted from her studying. Her eyes would run over the same text multiple times. She would sigh, and fidget, moving from a chair to the bed and back to a chair. Sometimes she would touch herself between the legs, and then she would cross her legs, sigh, and go back to her reading.

The bell rang. It was time for dinner. I wondered if there would be another apple, or more ham.

Anita

I couldn't stop thinking of Zek. It made it very difficult to concentrate on my studies. I ran through our time together in my mind, wondering. If I had done something different, would things have turned out better? I found my thoughts lingering on the time we had spent in bed. He wasn't the world's best lover, but he was caring, and he hadn't stinted on foreplay.

My thoughts wandered to my other lovers. The first boy I had kissed. That time I had gone to the capital for the Right of Spring, and met that young lord, and then one thing had led to another... I didn't regret the loss of my virginity, and I certainly didn't regret repeating the experience another three times that night. I remembered that mercenary, and my parent's farmhand. The ambassador from the north. My former mathematics teacher. A wandering minstrel.

As my mind lingered on the memory of many different hands, and tongues, and lips, and cocks, I found that my hand had gone to my pussy. I frowned, removed my hand, and crossed my legs. Then I tried to focus on my book. It was a guide to illusion magic, I remembered, but I didn't remember what type, the bending of light or of the mind. As I flipped back a few pages, trying to figure out where I'd gotten distracted, my mind went to Zek...

Finally the dinner bell rang. With a relieved sigh, I closed the book. I was horny and frustrated. I resolved to masturbate after dinner, before I went to bed.

But, when I got back to my room, after I had put the demon back in his cage, I couldn't find my vibration stone. I had a vague memory of taking it to Zek's place. With a sigh, I set about making another one.

But making a vibration stone took hours of delicate work. That was too long. Much, much too long. I could use my fingers, but I'd never been good at that. Not good enough to make myself cum, anyways. But what other alternative did I have? My eyes fell on the demon.

Saban

I was locked in a cage, bound and chained and mulling angrily over my predicament, when I felt my captor's gaze on me. I looked up from the floor of my cage to meet her eyes. She had that strange, almost hungry look on her face again. I wondered what it was she wanted.

Swiftly she unlocked the chains and the cage door, and then ordered me to kneel. I obeyed, grudgingly. At home, I knelt to no one; other demons knelt to me. I swore, once again, that she would suffer for humiliating me.

Anita lifted the hem of her robe and pulled down her underwear, revealing her hairy pussy. "Lick it," she ordered me.

The command forced me to lean forward, but I fought it, pulling my head away from her thick bush. "I will not!" I growled through clenched teeth. "I will not be your... Your toy!"

She grabbed me by the hair. "Yes, you will. And you will do a good job, too, or you will suffer for it. Now, lick!"

Between the physical force and the power of the command, my head jerked forward, burying my nose and mouth in her hair. Against my will, my tongue flicked out.

The taste and the smell of her womanhood made me shiver. Again, my tongue flicked out, involuntarily, but not, this time, against my will. She tasted even better the second time, and better than that the third.

As I reluctantly carried out my humiliating yet tasty task, Anita closed her eyes and moaned. I shuddered and began to lick harder and faster, compelled by some instinct I had never known I had. I focused on the clitoris, both because she seemed to respond best to that and because something in me said that this was what I was supposed to do. I reached up, slipping a single finger into her flower as I continued to lick. She shivered at my touch, and I reveled in it. Because of our magical bond, I could feel her pleasure in the back of my mind as I worked my finger within her. I could also feel... Her magic?

It was flaring out around her, as it had last night when she had cut herself, and then again when she had reopened the cut. Hesitantly, I took a taste.

It was incredible. Indescribable. Ambrosia, the food of the gods. My eyes closed, but my hand and tongue never stopped moving. I gently slid a second finger into Anita, and began to work them more vigorously inside of her. She swayed, and I reached up behind her to steady her and press her harder against my mouth. I fed more, at first taking tentative sips, and then drinking the delicious power in greedily. I knew that different emotions changed the taste of power, but, until now, I would have sworn that pain was the choicest of emotions. Until now, I has not tasted desire.

Anita's eyes snapped opened, and she stared at me in shock. I realized, too late, that she must have felt the tug on her power as I fed. She tried to shove my head away, but, as I was much, much stronger than she was, it had no effect. I continued to pleasure her, and to feed. Then she shouted a word of power, and I went flying across the room to slam against the wall.

"You... you were feeding!" she accused me.

I shrugged. "You presented me with the opportunity."

"I didn't..." She paused, thinking. "Did you know you could do that?"

"Do what?" I asked, smiling.

"Feed. From my desire." I didn't answer. Her eyes narrowed. "You didn't, did you?" I just smiled knowingly. "Answer me!" she snapped, clenching her fist.

"I... Did not know..." I answered through clenched teeth. I was getting better at resisting the pain, but it was still unpleasant.

Anita released me. "I suppose giving pleasure, not pain, never occurred to you bastards before."

"Not that it ever occurred to you, either," I muttered.

"What was that?" Damn, my wizard had sharp hearing. For a human.

"Oh, nothing," I said as I smiled sweetly. "Nothing at all."

Anita

The demon Saban graced me with stony silence when I put him back in his cage. At least he was cooperating. When he fought me, I got a headache. I frowned, wondering about that. My mind should not be so strained by dealing with a demon, even a greater demon. Perhaps I was out of practice. I decided to meditate for a while before I went to bed.

It was easier said than done. My continuing arousal made it impossible to properly empty my mind of thoughts and emotions, which, in turn, made the next step, my mental exercises, impossible.

I had just about managed to clear my mind when the final bell of the evening rang. Its sonorous voice echoed all through the castle and the surrounding town, interrupting my concentration and making me curse. There was no real point in staying up. As I was unable to concentrate on my studies, it would be a waste of time. I sighed, and began to get ready for bed.

Getting ready for bed, for the most part, just involved cleaning my teeth and stripping off my clothes. I said no prayers to any god, though I was no atheist. Just currently unaffiliated.

The covers were warm, and the bed was soft. I sighed, and let my mind wander.

Trev. My enemy. I wondered what he was doing now. Was he studying late, even as I thought this? Did he watch the stars? I had a hard time imagining the cold calculator doing anything so whimsical. Probably studying then, or asleep. I wondered if he slept naked, like me. My mind flashed an image of him lounging naked half under the covers, with his erect cock peeking out from between the folds of cloth. I scowled, and shook my head to clear it.

Across the room from me stood the demon, chained inside his cage. It made me nervous to even have him in the room, though my logical mind assured me that there was no way for him to escape, or, if he did, for him to hurt me. I wondered if anyone else knew that demons could feed using desire. It was probably in a scholar's footnote somewhere. As much as it unnerved me, it probably wasn't, in the great scheme of things, that important.

What if it was, though? What if this little piece of knowledge would someday lead someone to solve some great problem on the nature of demons? And what if I had been the one to discover it? I wondered, if my research turned up nothing on demons and desire, how I would present my findings. I would be embarrassing to admit I'd ordered the demon to pleasure me. I imagined the Council of Master's reactions, and winced.

I realized that I was staring at the demon's cock, and, in fact, had been staring at it for the last several minutes. I was also stroking my clit. I sighed. I was never going to get to sleep while I was this horny.

My eyes flicked to the demon. No way was I letting him anywhere near my girly bits again, though the memory of what he had been doing made me shiver with excitement. And no way could I just cum on my own. I sighed, and got out of bed to spend the rest of the night working on a vibration stone.