A Demon's Devotion

Chapter 03

by Mesmerciless

Tags: #cw:noncon #D/s #demon #enslavement #f/m #pov:bottom #sub:female #blackmail #contemporary_fantasy #dom:male #humiliation #hypnotic_eyes #hypnotic_gaze #impact_play #magic #marking #Master/slave_language #mean_girls #modern_fantasy #nonhuman_character #pov:top #revenge #riding_crop #supernatural_romance

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The halls were loud this afternoon.

Or maybe that was just Beatrice’s imagination.

It was odd, how a lack of sleep could both dull and sharpen her senses. Her entire morning had passed in a strange, static fog, a drowsiness that could spark at any moment into stinging awareness. One moment she’d be nodding off in class, and the next the chatter of her peers would prickle her awake. Yet as aggravating as the everyday had become, Beatrice saved most of her ire for the real culprit:

Levi. This was all his fault.

Beatrice grit her teeth as she trudged towards the cafeteria, fighting the growing maelstrom in her gut. It was the same storm of feelings that had kept her up all night, a twisted mixture of fear, rage, confusion, and lust. From dusk until dawn she’d tossed and turned, unable to escape her competing impulses. She’d wanted to give in, to surrender to the carnal yearning Levi had left her with, to masturbate to fantasies of her tormentor and seize the pleasure her sweating, trembling body craved. Yet with every venturing touch came the realization that she’d be yielding to his design, that every tingling ribbon of pleasure would become an instrument of bondage in his hands. With that thought, the rosy tint from her fantasies would vanish, casting her situation in much starker light.

Demons were real. Magic was real. And she was now the prey of both. These facts were undeniable, yet never failed to send Beatrice into a spiral of doubt, her frazzled mind questioning everything that had led her to this point. Inevitably, further thoughts of Levi would follow. Inevitably, she would think of the power he held over her, of how needy and enthralled she’d felt in his grasp, of the depths of pleasure he’d taken her to.

And so all through the night, this horrid cycle of desire and denial had continued.

But she hadn’t given in.

No matter how bad the temptation had gotten, no matter how close she’d come to folding, Beatrice had resisted the cravings Levi had created. Which meant she’d resisted him as well. Even though his power had seemed inescapable, it was clear that he had his limits. And now Beatrice knew she could reach them.

The text he’d sent her in the morning had only proved this further. The message had demanded that she wear a skirt or dress to school, one that would “make her feel like an object of desire.” Upon reading that, Beatrice had tensed, expecting any moment to feel Levi’s power manipulating her like a puppet. Yet as she’d stood stock still in her room, eyes shut and muscles tensed, it’d gradually dawned on her that nothing was happening. There was no sensation of her body moving against her will, nor even a surge of arousal to weaken her defenses. Had he expected her to follow his commands willingly? Or had their previous evening exhausted his powers?

Either way, the realization of her own freedom had reinvigorated her defiance, and for a moment she’d considered dressing in the least sexy outfit she had. The thought of facing her friends cooled that impulse, so she’d settled on high rise jeans and an oversized sweater. True, the outfit was a little warm for late September, but it hit the sweet spot between defying Levi’s orders and complying with social expectations. It proved that for all that had happened, she was still nobody’s servant. She was still a free woman.

Wasn’t she?

Beatrice straightened as she entered the cafeteria, her weariness fading as adrenaline coursed through her veins. Levi would see her soon. He would realize she had defied him. What would he do then? If her thinking was correct, he didn’t have enough power to force her to go home and change, and she doubted he would do anything outrageous like coerce her to strip in public. Then again, underestimating him was what had originally landed her in this mess. Maybe she was being too brash. Maybe she should’ve thought this through more.

Too late now. As the crowded dining area stretched before her, a warm shiver ran down her spine, and her lips quivered as she suppressed a growing grin.

What the hell? Was she feeling…excited? Or…

Beatrice stiffened, feeling Levi’s gaze like a cloud passing over the sun. She turned, her eyes finding his as if by instinct. His brow was furrowed, his expression tense, but unreadable. He beckoned with his hand, and Beatrice felt the barest tug on her crest, calling her to join him at his table.

With a satisfied smirk, she turned up her nose and kept walking. Her friends were seated just ahead, and Suzi was waving her over with a beaming smile. Beatrice returned the gesture, even as the demon’s anger crackled at the edge of her senses. Served him right. He could act high and mighty when they were alone, but here at school, he was still lonely, pathetic Levi, and she was…

…She was turning around, her path abruptly diverting back the way she came. A jolt of panic raced through her. She tried to whirl around again, or at least cast an apologetic look towards her friends. Yet her strides remained unwavering and purposeful, pulled along by the familiar, invisible ropes that had captured her body.

The demon had seized control again.

As Beatrice approached him, Levi rested his chin on his palm, simmering with irritation. “Once again,” he said, “it seems you’ve decided to make things difficult for us both. Have you truly learned nothing from yesterday’s lesson?”

“Lesson?” Beatrice matched his glare with her own. “Is that what you call it, you disgusting p—”

“Apologize,” Levi commanded.

Beatrice’s insult tumbled back down her throat. Her hands lifted the hem of her sweater, her scowl melting into a placating smile as she dipped into a deferential curtsy. “I’m sorry, Master,” she mewled with an unnatural lilt. “Please forgive your servant.”

“Good girl,” he replied with an absent turn of his wrist.

The invisible cords snapped free, and Beatrice straightened, burning with humiliation and fury. But before she could act, a cascade of pleasure flooded from her mark, dousing the flames and washing the strength from her legs. She let out a surprised squeak, fighting to remain standing as her knees wobbled.

“As you can see,” Levi sighed, “juvenile displays of resistance will get you nowhere. One way or another, you will learn your place. Even if I have to train you like a wild animal.”

“Who are you calling a—hhhha!” Another warm pulse reverberated through her pussy, her muscles clenching in poisonous ecstasy.

“Like any tamer of beasts,” he continued, “I have various tools at my disposal. The carrot is for rewarding good behavior.” He closed his fist, and the threads of his control returned, yanking Beatrice to attention. “The bridle, on the other hand, is for keeping you in line. And the crop, well…” his face darkened. “Something tells me we’ll get to that soon enough.”

He let his hand slide open and his influence receded. Beatrice remained still, wide eyed and trembling. It had all happened so fast, a dizzying rush of sensations some part of her still believed shouldn’t be possible. Even though her clothes had remained intact, she felt stripped bare in front of her friends, in a way she knew they couldn’t understand, yet probably sensed all the same. No doubt they were staring at her now, whispering among themselves about her strange behavior. Maybe some of the other students were watching too, wondering what could’ve possessed a girl like Beatrice to curtsy in front of a guy like Levi. Pins of unwanted attention prickled her back, but she kept her gaze straight ahead, her body flushed and hot with a roiling mixture of shame, dread, and…and…

Something else.

Levi’s eyebrows rose, as though surprised by something Beatrice couldn’t see. “Interesting…” he mused. “Most interesting indeed…”

“L-look, you’ve made your point alright?” Beatrice stammered. “Why did you want me over here anyway? Don’t tell me you expect us to eat together or something.”

His eyes narrowed. “Would that really be so surprising?”

“W-well it’s just that…” Beatrice racked her brain for an excuse. “Talking with you is one thing, but if I sit here instead of with my friends, they’re gonna think that’s weird.”

“Oh? Are they not privy to your little blackmail scheme?”

“N-no, they are. But this isn’t how we normally do things. If I wanted to have lunch with you, I would invite you to sit with all of us, not shut them out completely. That’s how drama happens.”

“I see.” Levi paused. As Beatrice suspected, he seemed reluctant to brave lunch with a gaggle of unfamiliar girls. Apparently not even demon magic trumped social anxiety. “Very well,” he finally conceded. “You may sit with your friends. But it’s still important that you perform your duties. So for now…” He slid a few crumpled bills across the table. “We’ll start with you bringing me lunch.”

Beatrice scoffed. “Are you joking? The line right now is insane. Why didn’t you just grab it yourself when you got here?”

Levi’s pupils glinted. “Because that is a servant’s job.”

Beatrice tensed. His words were stated as a simple fact, but their threatening aura was unmistakable. She quickly accepted the money without a word, memorizing his order and hurrying for the lunch line before he made her crawl there on all fours.

Or something.

The wait was excruciating. Beatrice tried to distract herself on her phone, but no matter how much she scrolled, her thoughts kept turning back to Levi, and how quickly he’d reasserted his mastery. It really was demonic—there was no better word for it. Not only had he blasted away her earlier defiance, but the shockwaves had completely destabilized her. Now every involuntary twitch or absent shift in her body was a cause for concern, a possible sign that he was seizing her “bridle” to ensure her compliance. Worse still, there was no way to avoid it. All she could do was follow his orders, and hope for the best.

Then again…it occurred to her that if she’d received a nibble of “carrot” before, her obedience now might lead to an even greater reward. Her heart skipped with an involuntary shudder, and she bit her lip, trying to ward the intrusive thought away. She told herself that it wasn’t worth it, that she never wanted to feel his power again, no matter what form it took. Even so, she couldn’t resist holding her breath as she headed back towards his table, her soaked panties squishing with every step.

“Good girl,” Levi purred, accepting the tray of food.

Beatrice squirmed, her thighs rubbing together, eagerly anticipating the reward to come.

But then Levi hesitated, peering behind her for a moment before scanning her skeptically. “Weren’t you planning to eat as well?” he asked.

“Huh? Oh.” Beatrice glanced over her shoulder, realizing he had noticed the lack of lunch trays at her table. “Um, we don’t have swim practice today, so most of us are skipping lunch. Y’know, to save on calories and stuff.”

Levi frowned. “That won’t do. Go back and fill a plate of your own.”

Beatrice’s jaw dropped. “What? Are you serious?”

“Of course. Now go.”

“Why? Are you trying to fatten me up or something?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Your weight is not my concern. That crest draws great amounts of energy from you, energy that needs to be replenished. A starved servant is useless to me. So do as you’re told, and get back in line.”

“Like hell I will,” Beatrice spat. Acting as his waitress was embarrassing enough, but if he ruined her figure in the process, she would never hear the end of it.

Levi let out an aggravated breath. Then closed his fist.

Beatrice would’ve cursed if she still had control of her mouth. But the demon had already grasped her bridle, and she was helpless to resist. He directed her back towards the steaming chafing dishes, her eyes watching with helpless horror as her hands grabbed both a Caesar wrap and a batch of chicken fingers before adding a stack of cookies as well. Any passerby would think she’d just been possessed by the spirit of a hungry eight-year-old, and Beatrice wanted nothing more than to hide her face as her body piloted itself towards her waiting friends.

The bridle finally loosened as she sat, allowing her self-control once more. At least he’s not going to force-feed me, she thought. Her stomach growled, her mouth watering as she took another look at her spread. If she was being honest, her hunger did feel sharper than usual. Maybe the crest was having an effect on her appetite. Maybe indulging a little wasn’t the worst idea in the world.

The leering smile in Alissa’s eyes quickly put that notion to rest. “Wow Bea,” she uttered, her petite features quirked into a sneer. “You know swimming doesn’t have a heavyweight class, right?”

“You’re not pregnant or something, are you?” Teresa chimed in. “Ohmigod, is that why you got Levi lunch too? Is he your baby daddy?”

“Eeeew!” Suzi squealed with laughter. “Y’mean they’ve actually…y’know, already..?”

“Sh-shut up!” Beatrice protested. “It’s not like that.”

Lucy arched an eyebrow. “But he is the reason you got all this, right?”

Beatrice blinked, surprised to receive such a perfect lifeline. “Obviously,” she replied, recomposing herself. “He said he’s into chubby girls, and I’m trying to keep him interested so…”

“Does he have a fetish for curtseys too?” Alissa snickered.

“You have no idea,” Beatrice groaned. “Seriously guys, he’s even worse than you think. He’s into all kinds of weird shit, and if I don’t play along, he totally ghosts me.”

“But…” Suzi’s pouty lips frowned. “You’re not actually gonna, like, get fat or anything, right?”

“Of course not. I’ll just run laps around the school or puke it all up or something.”

Teresa grinned. “Then you won’t mind if I snag one of these for—”

“D-don’t!” Beatrice exclaimed, almost slapping the cookie from her friend’s hand.

The silence that followed was excruciating. Teresa set the treat down, staring at Beatrice as though she’d sprouted a third eye.

“You seem kinda stressed out,” Lucy finally observed. “Are you sure you have this under control?"

Beatrice swallowed, staring at her food. The truth was, she’d never felt less in control in her life. But she couldn’t tell her friends that. If they tried to help, there was a chance they’d end up Levi’s victims as well, or else just cause more irritation for him to take out on her. Worse still, Lucy might decide that he was a lost cause, and choose a different blackmail target entirely. If that happened, how would Beatrice explain her subservient behavior towards Levi? So long as she was supposedly tricking him, she could at least sort of save face. But if that cover vanished, there was no telling the depths of humiliation that awaited her.

She hadn’t even wanted to blackmail him in the first place. And now that mission was the only protection she had. The irony was so awful, she almost dissolved into helpless laugher. Instead, Beatrice managed an exaggerated sigh, and waved her friends’ concerns away.

“It’s all good,” she lied. “I’ve got this.”

Beatrice tapped her thumbs on her phone, pretending to compose a text as she waited by the bike rack. Across the parking lot, the usual post-bell traffic chugged along, cars and buses jockeying for space as they trickled out into the surrounding streets. Lucy’s convertible honked as it nudged towards the exit, Teresa and Suzi blowing kisses at Beatrice from the back seats. She smirked and gave them the finger before turning back to her phone, feigning intense concentration. They had to think she was being held up by some pressing social concern. They couldn’t know the true purpose of her delay.

They couldn’t know she was waiting for him.

Fortunately, their sleek red car was long gone by the time Levi’s rusty pickup rumbled into view. Beatrice cast one last glance towards the lot exit, half-heartedly fantasizing about a desperate dash towards freedom. But then her mark hummed with threatening warmth, and she hurried to toss her bike into the truck’s bed.

She wondered if he was still annoyed with her.

After her disaster of a lunch, she’d approached her English class with mounting dread, her imagination saturated with horrible ideas of how Levi could make their shared hour a miserable. The whole lesson, she’d expected to feel his power, either forcing her to do something ridiculous, or else just toying with her libido for kicks. Instead, the time had passed completely without incident, Levi speaking only once to tell her to wait for him after school.

It was an order she dared not disobey.

The dented passenger door took several tries to wrench open, and for a moment Beatrice wondered if she was stepping into a rattling death trap. Yet despite the battle-scarred exterior, the truck’s seats and floor were remarkably clean, the opposite of what she would expect from a teenager’s hand-me-down. She was about to remark as such, but caught herself and faced forward without a word instead. If Levi wanted to play the quiet, unreadable game, she could too. Especially since open defiance had backfired so badly.

Not that stoicism came any easier. As the school shrunk in the distance, the danger in Levi’s silence grew. It occurred to Beatrice that once they were alone, there was really nothing protecting her from his perverse imagination. For all she knew, this would be the first of many nights spent as his personal sex pet. The thought caused her shoulders to rise and her breath to quicken. She glanced his direction, only to find he was eyeing her as well, wearing the same strange, intense expression he’d held since lunch. It was a look that made Beatrice feel hot and cold all at once, even after she’d turned away. There was something in those dark pupils of his, some glimmer of intrigue or fascination that shook her worse than any spark of anger. Though she couldn’t explain why.

When the demon did finally speak, it almost caused Beatrice to jump. “You did well to wait for me,” he said. “I was anticipating I’d have to chase you around town.”

Beatrice chanced another look his direction. His eyes were back on the road, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

Was he…actually pleased with her?

She swallowed, and decided to test the waters. “After what happened at lunch,” she said, “only an idiot would try to make a break for it.”

Levi laughed. “Perhaps. Though you are very strong-willed. And that can make you…unpredictable.”

Beatrice tensed, worried this observation would lead to yet another punishment. But Levi simply chuckled again, as though punctuating a cheeky compliment.

Feeling encouraged, Beatrice probed further. “Is that why you haven’t mentioned where we’re going yet? Because you don’t know what I’ll do?”

“In part. Though to be frank,” his eyes met hers, “I expect my servants to trust their Master’s direction, even if they don’t understand it.”

“Ah.” Beatrice nodded, not trusting herself to say anything more.

“Good girl.”

He didn’t keep her waiting this time. Her marker blossomed in a burst of pleasure, an involuntary gasp popping from her lips. Waves of arousal cascaded through her, each crest of hot excitement higher than the last. Her back arched, her shoulders pressing against the seat as the seatbelt strained between her breasts. She gripped it like a lifeline, as though the flimsy fabric could save her from the flood happy chemicals.

“From now on,” Levi stated, his voice soft, but firm. “Whenever we are away from prying eyes and ears, you will address me as ‘Master.’ Do you understand?”

“Y-yes…” Beatrice moaned in reply. Not because Levi had forced her to, but because it was too hard to think of anything else to say.

“Yes what?”

“Yes m—” she bit her lip, a flare of defiance singeing her throat. But then a tremor of ecstasy moved through her hips, her desperate pussy rubbing against the seat and snuffing out the insolent impulse. “Yes…Master…” she whimpered.

“Good girl.” Levi smiled, and Beatrice yelped as the edge of an orgasm tickled her insides. “You may play with yourself, if you wish. But you must ask permission before you come. Is that clear?”

“Y-yes!” Beatrice nodded rapidly, her shaking hands already fumbling to unbutton her jeans.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes Ma—aaa—hhhha!,” the rest of the word was lost as her fingers found the soaking surface of her panties, the slightest pressure sending ripples of delight through her.

“Good enough,” Levi chuckled. “Though I would advise against further exclamations,” he added, rolling the windows down with an evil grin.

Beatrice groaned. Even as her head swam in sticky fog, she recognized the deviousness of her Master’s design. As if reducing her to this state wasn’t enough, now he was forcing her to fight her own desires. Yet somehow, the thought of being exposed, of some undignified sound or pornographic display leaking into the outside world, of a classmate catching a glimpse of her rubbing herself stupid in Levi Ehrlich’s truck…it didn’t lessen her arousal at all. In fact, it only…it only…

Suddenly, they slowed, coming to a stop at a crowded red light. Though she dared not look, Beatrice could hear noises from the neighboring car, pop music and chatter floating freely between the driver’s open window and hers. The voices sounded young, possibly belonging to other students. If they decided to look her direction, all it would take was a glance for Beatrice’s shame to become public. Her breath hitched, her free hand flying to her cover her mouth as her fingers circled the sopping fabric between her legs. She tried to stop. Tried bite her fist and stifle the awful hunger possessing her. But no matter how her heart raced and her body trembled, she couldn’t…stop…rubbing.

The light changed and the truck pulled away, leaving the terrifying encounter behind. Immediately, the moan Beatrice had been holding broke free. She didn’t care who heard. The adrenaline and anxiety that’d just reached a boiling point came gushing out of her in mounting spasms of relief and joy. Her free hand snaked under her sweater and shirt, pawing at her tits, squishing and pinching the soft, sensitive flesh. She was close. The humiliation, the anticipation, the pleasure—it was all burning inside her, rising to a feverish pitch, ready to erupt in mind-blanking bliss.

Levi spoke. “You’re on the edge right now, aren’t you?”

“Nnn—yes, yes!” Beatrice managed to answer between broken breaths.

“You want to surrender don’t you? You want to come for me like a good girl, isn’t that right?”


“All you have to do is ask. Say: ‘Please Master, let me come for you.’”

“P-please, Master. Let me…let me come f…”

Wait. For him?

Beatrice bit her tongue, her body going rigid as she forced the words back down. She couldn’t do it. She refused. Even as her hands continued to stroke and squeeze, this singular thought remained rooted and unmoving. No matter how bad she wanted to, she wasn’t going to come for him—not last night, and certainly not now. He could debase her in front of her classmates, seduce her into spreading her legs in his car, but on this last point she would not yield.

Because she could tell: he wanted it just as badly.

“What’s wrong?” Levi asked, a whisper of uncertainty under his condescending tone. “Your reward is yours to claim. All you must do is ask for it.”

“N-not gonna…happen…” Beatrice huffed. The urgency in her body was fading, her mind clearing enough to stop her fingers’ devious dance. She realized that her marker had gone dormant at some point. When had that happened? When had Levi lifted his influence and allowed her own instincts to take over? The fact that she couldn’t tell caused her to shiver.

“I see,” Levi said, all traces of bemusement banished. “So it’s as I feared.”

Beatrice remained still, not even attempting to re-button her pants. “Wh-what do you mean?”

He sighed. “I mean your progress today was little more than a front. You still intend to fight me, just as you did last night. Oh yes,” he added when Beatrice’s eyes widened, “I felt every part of that ridiculous struggle. All you had to do was allow yourself release, and both of our hungers would’ve been sated. Instead, you chose to spit in the face of our mutual satisfaction. Just as you are now.”

“W-well excuse me for not going down without a fight,” Beatrice protested. “What did you expect? That I would actually enjoy being your slave?”

“No.” He brought the truck to a stop. “I’d hoped for more, but my dismal expectations have, unfortunately, been met. Which is why I’ve brought you here.”

“Huh?” she turned, and realized they were parked in front of Levi’s house. He cut the engine, and a deathly silence slithered into the cab. Beatrice held her breath, sensing his power circling her mind, like a predator prowling in the grass.

“Wh-what are you going to do?” she asked.

“By now, you’ve had plenty of experience with the bridle and carrot.” Levi’s eyes narrowed. “It’s time you met the crop as well.”

Earlier, Beatrice had said only an idiot would run.

But now she was seriously considering the option.

She stood frozen in the center of Levi’s room, her mind racing on a treadmill of half-formed plans and fears. Her host circled behind her, locking the door before catching her over-the-shoulder glance. She quickly faced forward, her heartrate kicking up another notch. Even if he hadn’t told her in the truck, the wicked anticipation in his eyes would’ve made her fate all too clear.

Beatrice was about to punished.

Levi continued to orbit around his servant, the nearby desk lamp throwing his shadow across the room. Beatrice curled her hands into fists, trying to prepare for whatever his next move would be. If he seized her body, could she fight his grasp? If he stroked her mark, could she resist its pleasure? Was it even worth asking? After all, he’d bested her efforts so far, with seemingly little effort. Then again, if he was going to such lengths to “train” her, her defiance must’ve been threatening to some degree. Could it be his hold on her was much more fragile than it seemed? Was it possible she could wear him down?

And was it worth the risk to find out?

She stiffened as Levi stopped in front of her, his stern gaze roaming her body. “Strip,” he commanded.

Beatrice hesitated. “Wh-why? Are you gonna—” She flinched as his power teased her bridle, her voice lost in a sharp, surprised breath.

“A good servant does not question her punishment,” Levi growled, “She accepts it. Lest her foolishness incur further displeasure.”

Beatrice shut her mouth tight, swallowing a torrent of spiteful retorts. The subtle pressure of Levi’s influence vanished, though his threatening expression didn’t ease. Looking away, Beatrice moved her hands to the hem of her sweater, her pulse thundering as she lifted the garment over her head and dropped it to the floor. Her tank-top was the next to go, followed by her jeans, each button a fresh challenge for her trembling fingers. She could sense his excitement as she pulled her naked legs free, the motion causing her breasts to jiggle. To her dismay, she realized her nipples were already poking through her bra as she unclasped it, her skin burning as she let the flimsy cups fall away. At last, her thumbs hooked into the drawstring of her panties, a shiver wriggling her hips as she peeled the sopping underwear from her sticky, sensitive pussy.

By the time she’d finished, Levi’s eyes glowed with dark desire, heat practically radiating from his body as he drew closer. Beatrice shrunk back automatically, her arms shifting to cover her flushed tits and dripping sex. But then her mark throbbed, and her hot breath hitched, an invisible hand caressing the tension from her muscles.

“Good girl,” Levi murmured, gently parting Beatrice’s limbs, allowing him full access to her naked, helpless body. She had the vague impulse to pull away, but the allure of his touch was too much. He smoothed his fingers up her thighs and hips, tracing the contours of her torso with delicate affection, his thumbs pausing to circle and tease her stiff pink nipples. Her back arched, a tiny whine escaping as she pressed her soft, needy flesh into his hands. But the moment she did, he moved away, stepping back as though suddenly losing interest.

“On all fours,” he said, pointing to the bed. “Now.”

Beatrice moved without thinking, getting halfway onto the mattress before realizing what she was doing. She slowed, wondering if she should try and reverse course, only to feel Levi’s hand grasp her ass. Even with her mark dormant, the electricity of his touch sent disorienting sparks through her brain, shorting her thoughts of resistance. There was no struggle as he guided her into position, her head lowered towards the wall and her rear raised towards the rest of the room, naked and vulnerable to…whatever he had in mind.

His fingers slipped away, and he let out a small hum of satisfaction. “Since this is your first and we’re pressed for time, I’m going to keep it simple. Though that doesn’t mean it will be easy.”

Beatrice blinked, her mind reorienting in time to prepare for another burst of his power when…


She yelped, her ass stinging from the open-palmed slap. She shifted away, surprised, only for Levi’s hand to grasp her hair, yanking her back into place as she groaned.

“Your sentence is ten strikes,” Levi explained. “And you will take them as a servant should: silently, without complaint.”

“Seriously?” Beatrice exclaimed. “You’re gonna spank me? That’s what you—”

Smack. Her objection broke into a sputtering curse.

“If you make even the slightest sound,” Levi warned her, “I’ll have to start over.”

“What? Why? Just because I—”


“One,” Levi uttered.

“Fuck you! I’ll never—”



“Shit! That h—”



“Ah! Can you just—”



Beatrice grit her teeth, balling the sheets in her fists. She’d been spanked by her parents once as a child, but that memory paled in comparison to this. So far, every one of Levi’s hits had been in the exact same spot, each new blow landing right when the pain from the previous had subsided. His technique was so precise, so calculated, she might’ve found it impressive if it didn’t feel so merciless.

At least she’d managed to stay quiet this time. Indeed, she felt a glimmer as satisfaction as her tormentor paused, apparently expecting further outbursts, only to be thwarted by her silence.



Beatrice’s nostrils flared as she exhaled, but again, her lips stayed sealed. She could do this. She was a badass bitch. Just like Lucy said. It would take more than a scrawny nerd’s spanking to—


“Ah!” she cried, almost losing her balance. He’d targeted her other cheek this time, and had somehow put even more force behind the strike.

“One,” he stated flatly.



Beatrice sucked in a shaking breath, holding it like a cliff’s edge.



She exhaled, willing herself to ride the pain as it crested and waned.





Beatrice’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Once again, he’d switched up his aim. But this time, she’d been ready. Even as her ass throbbed, she kept her focus on the next hit, fortifying her determination.





Halfway there. She bowed her head, letting out another strained breath. Peering back through her arms and legs, she could see Levi flexing his hand. A secret smirk danced on her lips. Maybe he was starting to tire. Maybe he was running out of tricks. Maybe they wouldn’t even make it to ten before—

His hand rested on the small of her back. Beatrice tensed reflexively, only to shiver as he smoothed his fingers down her ass, kneading the warm, tender areas he’d beaten only moments ago. Her thighs trembled as his touch wandered perilously close to her pussy, teasing her as he massaged the tightness from her muscles. Her eyes closed, her mouth sliding open as relief suffused her. It felt so good, so comforting, that it nearly coaxed a moan from her lips.

Then Levi’s hand whipped back, and Beatrice’s stomach clenched as she sensed the incoming strike. Before she could stop herself, she squeaked in terror.

And in the silence that followed, his smirk was almost audible.

Beatrice sunk onto her elbows, groaning under the weight of her mistake.



“That’s not fair…” Beatrice whimpered.


Levi sighed. “One.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I promise I’ll—”



Beatrice’s lips trembled. Yet she remained silent. When the next two strikes came, her stillness didn’t waver. When Levi took another break to massage the numbness away, she remained poised and alert, not allowing herself the luxury of relief. And when a barrage of sharp, rapid slaps shattered the quiet, Beatrice’s cry of surprise was followed not by further protests, but merely by a wordless acceptance that the count would restart.

So the ordeal continued. With every fresh count, Beatrice’s world narrowed even further, her focus shrinking until she could barely think between each hit. Eventually, she could get up to seven counts. Then eight. Then nine. When he struck her with both hands on the tenth, the pathetic grunt she made barely registered in her ears. Dimly, she realized the process would restart.

Yet for some reason, she didn’t feel upset.

She felt…fuzzy and…floaty.

And by the time she’d fully processed this, the count was already up to seven again.



Huh. That’d hardly hurt at all. In fact, it’d been kinda…disappointing?



Oh. That was a good one.

Wait, what did she mean by that? And why…was her mark…suddenly tingling?


Ecstasy blossomed between Beatrice’s legs, a tempest of pain and pleasure spiraling from the demon’s crest. She squealed in surprise, her voice breaking as her tangled senses ignited.



Beatrice made a sound somewhere between a moan and a cry. Levi wasn’t just hitting her anymore: he was trying to get her off. And the worst part was…the worst part was…

She wanted him to.



Beatrice panted, a strand of drool dripping from her lips. She felt giddy. She felt ruined. She felt like her body was melting. She felt her brain was breaking. She felt like he was striking the deepest fibers of her being, playing chords of euphoric suffering she could barely contain. She felt like a tidal wave was building inside her, a massive swell of bliss that could break free at any moment.

She realized they were on the ninth count. Just as she realized she was going to come.

Her master’s hand pulled back.

Beatrice welcomed it.

She craved it.

She gasped as the strike landed. And screamed as the pleasure claimed her.

She couldn’t think. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t stop shaking. Couldn’t keep herself up. Couldn’t lift her head from the mattress. Couldn’t stop the spit pooling on the sheets.

Couldn’t tell what count they were on now.

Couldn’t tell if this was the second orgasm, or the third, or the fourth.

Couldn’t bring herself to care.

And when the strikes and convulsions finally subsided…when dreamy echoes were all that danced in her head…when her Master stroked her hair and told her how good she’d been…

…She couldn’t help but smile.

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