Deal with the Devil

01

Commissioned by Enigmatic.

"Haha! Dude, you suck!"

Michael sighed, reaching for his drink and taking a sip as he moved back from the pool table. "Suck a dick."

"Nah, bro. I'm gonna finish this game and then you get to buy the next round," the random stranger who had come to his pool table to challenge him smirked and moved into position, taking his pool cue up and beginning to sink shots. Michael was beginning to suspect the man might actually be a pool shark, when he consistently sank all of Michael's balls and then began working on his own.

Shrugging, he made his way over to the bar and ordered another round of drinks, before bringing them over. Sipping on his rum and coke as the guy reset the table, he scanned over the crowd of girls in the little campus bar. With finals done and the end of the semester, the place was filled with people just like himself—those who had spent entirely too much time studying and were now looking for an outlet, now that school was finished for a while.

"Thanks, bro," the taller guy took the drink he'd brought. Looking around for a moment, he nodded in a certain direction. "That one."

"Hm?"

"The brunette with that group of girls. The other ones all look high maintenance. She looks like she doesn't want to be here. Go introduce yourself." Michael turned and sent the man a questioning look, to which he simply smiled. "What? We've gotta help each other out. No one else will."

"Mm." Setting down his drink, Michael nodded and walked over, smiling as he made eye contact with the girl in question. She was very plain looking. Brown hair, average figure, moderately athletic, cute face. A solid five of ten, compared to the group of sevens and eights she was with. Possibly the 'ugly girl' they hung out with to make themselves feel better—that, or the smart but plain girl they kept around to help them study.

"Hey—" Michael had barely gotten the word out before he was cut off.

"Ew gross!" one of the other girls made a disgusted sound.

A second one looked at him and sneered, "Fuck off, loser!"

Michael ignored them both. "Hey there. I'm Michael. Can I buy you a drink?"

"I'm Sam," she smiled back hesitantly, only to wince as one of the girls with her butted in again.

"She's not interested."

He ignored the inane cawing and continued, "So, what are you majoring in? I'm in—"

"No one cares, asshole!"

"Can't you see she's not interested?"

"Uh, I'm majoring in—"

"Don't talk to him! He's a fucking loser!"

"Well, I mean, he seems nice—"

"Ex~act~ly!"

"Loser~!"

The brunette sighed and Michael asked, "Want to move somewhere quieter and have a drink? It's kind of hard to hear over this crowd, you know?"

"Uh… well," she murmured, looking obviously to her friends again.

"There, you see! Not interested. No means no, jackass!"

Finally, unable to take the peanut gallery anymore, Michael turned to the one who seemed to be the ringleader. Tall, blonde, pretty, big tits—physically, very nice to look at. "Was I talking to you?" She opened her mouth and he cut her off. "No I wasn't, now shut the fuck up. If she wants to tell me to get lost, I'll leave. She can make her own decisions, so why don't you let her?"

Turning back to the brunette, he sent her an expectant look. She sighed and, looking utterly defeated, muttered, "Sorry. I can't."

"Okay then," the man nodded, turning and walking back to the pool table to collect his drink, only to see someone else had joined the other guy and they were already playing. "Well, that fucking sucked."

"Crash and burn, bro. Now you've gotten the first loss of the night under your belt, the rest should be easy. First one's always the hardest."

Frowning, he picked up his drink and asked, "You knew that would happen?"

"Oh, fuck yeah. You did pretty good, though."

Michael let out a quiet chuckle and watched as the other guy lined up a shot. "Alright, mister expert. What did I do wrong?"

"Look at the time. You weren't gonna get anywhere. It's too early. They haven't had enough to drink. It's what they're here for. See it every year. Semester ends and they come to places like this, looking to score free drinks."

"So just wait and try again later?"

"Nah, bro. You blew your shot with her. If you try it again, you're 'a creep,'" the guy made air quotes and rolled his eyes. "And don't wait. If you're looking to pick a girl up, you need to be constantly trying. You've got to get in some practice. Wait a few minutes between tries so it doesn't look like you're desperate or something and try with someone else. Then repeat. But don't expect any interest until at least eleven."

"Alright. I've got next round."

"Sure, bro."

Michael groaned as he parked his bike in the shared garage and pocketed the key. Making his way down the stairs into his basement apartment, he flopped down on his living room couch with a frustrated sound. Thirty two. He had counted. Thirty two times getting shot down, blown off, or otherwise rejected.

"This shit sucks."

He couldn't help but feel like he had been lied to. That it wasn't supposed to be this hard to find a girl.

Not to toot his own horn, but Michael wasn't ugly, and he knew it. He worked out and kept a fit, lean, muscular build. He had a decent tan, kept his blond hair short and in that 'stylishly messy' look that women seemed to love. Physically, at least, he was probably a seven, maybe an eight.

He wasn't off-putting. Didn't have any social hangups. No problems approaching or talking to women, or anyone really.

When you have eliminated all which is impossible then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth, he mused as he considered the problem. If he had eliminated himself as a factor, then the only thing that remained was the other half of the equation. It's not me, it's them.

Forcing himself to get off the couch, he decided to take his mind off the night's bitter failures. Moving deeper into the apartment, he made his way back to a room with a steel door. Taking out the key, he unlocked it and stepped inside. Immediately, he felt the air change as he crossed the threshold and stepped over the line of silver that followed the inner edges of the room. It felt like stepping into a hermetically sealed room, after being in the worst, nastiest parts of a city.

Reaching down, he took a moment to touch the silver wire and put a little more of his own mana into it, to keep the barrier charged. Toeing his shoes off, he moved over to a desk sitting off to the side, beside a wall covered in shelves—some of which contained books, others held jars and boxes of various types containing a variety of materials. Dropping into the chair, he turned on the lamp on the desk and opened his father's, now his, grimoire.

"Alright, where did I leave off?" he hummed, flipping through pages to the bookmark he had left in it last. School's out, but a wizard never stops studying.

Yawning, he began reading. Unfortunately, it quickly became apparent that he wasn't really in the right mindset to absorb what he was seeing. With a frustrated sound, he pushed the book away and grabbed a notebook sitting nearby. Opening it up, he began going over the index he had made for the grimoire, after a couple of weeks spent reading and transcribing everything to digital format, then printing it all out and putting it in order by subject for his own personal grimoire, since his father hadn't exactly divided the thing up in any sort of order.

He paused as he once more came across an entry he was familiar with. Summoning: spirits, familiars, and other entities.

No. Don't do it, Michael. Don't do it…

Ignoring his own better sense, Michael pulled out the binder with his own notes and transcriptions and flipped through it. Wizards had done worse when they were young, dumb, and horny. He wasn't the first and he doubted he would be the last.

There, he found diagrams for summoning seals, along with lists of the proper reagents, ritual spell incantations, mana requirements, warnings, and so on. Looking over to the bookshelf to the side, he skimmed the titles, looking for one in particular. There, on the shelf below the Lemegeton Clavicula Salomonis was a copy of an untitled manuscript originally written in Arabic—a series of tales recorded by a young wizard, of the exploits of his master, including the summoning and 'taming' of familiars. One in particular stood out, in memory, however.

Taking the manuscript down, Michael flipped through it to the section he wanted. "Alright, let's see…"

'And on this night, my master did summon a most beautiful woman, with eyes as gemstones, skin like milk, and hair the color of fresh blood. She wore a crown atop her head and a dancer's silk veils, and little else besides. Her face and bearing were that of a willful young girl, but her body was of a woman. This girl gave her name as Gamori. She danced for us then, putting on a performance to shame the most experienced ladies of the night. I had mistakenly thought her a maiden, but no, this was a seductress. A temptress of men. The whore of Babylon herself would blush at the acts of this [woman]* as she seduced both my master and myself!'

Michael skipped down a bit to the notes.

'Translator's note: the text was transcribed from Arabic to Latin, and I then translated it into English. The Latin uses the phrase 'diaboli puella,' which I had originally taken to mean literally 'devil woman,' or more accurately, 'devilish woman.' That is, my best interpretation of the intent was to mean a lady of the night. However, in the intervening years, I have found the original Arabic and faithfully translated the text directly to ensure consistency. The word used in the original text was 'alshaytana.' The prefix 'al-' meaning 'the,' the suffix '-a' or 'ة' in Arabic to denote the feminine. That leaves only 'shaytan' to translate which, my dear reader, I'm sure you've already determined to be the local equivalent to 'satan.' Thus leaving us with 'the female devil.' This would support the Latin translation, save that I've come across some new information in my travels, and some context. You see, while alshaytana could mean a female devil, I believe it to be specific here—a colloquialism, when used in context. In my travels, I heard tales of a creature. Beautiful women who feed on men, much like a vampire. They need life to sustain them, but instead of taking it unwillingly through blood, they tempt their prey into giving up their life force willingly. Their prey being men, and their sustenance the, ah… male vital essence. These creatures, these female devils who tempt men into lewd behavior and illicit acts, were named succubus. I believe that is what the text means in spirit, if not in the literal translation.'

"There we go," Michael grinned. "Fuck it. Can't find a woman? Summon a succubus."

He quickly began gathering the things he needed from the other shelves in the room, containing his reagents. Taking out a special piece of chalk, a large compass, and a few other drawing tools to make this easier he set about constructing a summoning circle inside of an inner, much thicker line of silver and salt impregnated cold iron laid out on the floor for use in rituals.

"Now, what seal did he use?" Michael wondered. A bit of perusing the pages got him the diagram he needed and he blinked as he studied it, before laughing. "Wow, I've seen way too much anime porn and doujins. You know you're turning into a coom brain when the ancient magical seal for summoning a succubus looks like a womb tattoo."

Shaking his head, he began sketching it out.

[spoiler=womb tattoo seal]

.

[/spoiler]

Strangely, the outer ring where a name would go, was empty here. So, shrugging, he wrote in 'Gamori' then carefully stepped out of the circle he'd drawn. Looking over his notes and comparing them to what he had, he was eventually satisfied. With that, he moved into position outside the ring and stood, holding his notes as he began to chant and push mana into the ritual circle.

The circle and seal immediately lit up with blue light. Halfway into the summoning, the light from the seal turned red and Michael felt as if something had metaphysically hit the line that was his summoning spell. Setting the hook, he pulled back and began reeling it in. Whatever he had didn't fight him, but it didn't help him either. It felt like pulling dead weight up as he continued to reel. Until eventually, the seal flashed and the tension on his 'line' disappeared as it went slack. The circle and seal stopped glowing and Michael found himself looking at a person…

It was a woman, laying in repose, sleeping away peacefully. She looked young—maybe his own age, maybe a little younger. Definitely younger than twenty-five, maybe as young as seventeen. Her hair was long and a beautiful bright red and, beneath the light white robe she wore, Michael could see she had a figure to kill for.

There was just one oddity. She felt strange to Michael's magical senses. He could feel her power and most of it seemed to be withdrawn, while a bit seemed to be turned towards the status of her body. It didn't feel like someone else's magic, but it was definitely keeping her asleep and doing something to preserve her and keep her clean. The rest of it felt strong, but not unreasonably so. Easily within his ability to subdue and form a pact with.

Huh. How often do you catch a supernatural being like this just sleeping? It's pretty much the perfect opportunity. Slap a binding on her when she can't resist and I've got a sexy, powerful familiar.

Michael didn't think twice. The promise of a powerful familiar and losing his virginity to such a sexy woman was too tempting to resist. So, he quickly rushed through the binding spell to make her his familiar.

As soon as the spell latched on, the woman yawned and sat up as her magic changed, no longer keeping her asleep. Smacking her mouth and looking around blearily, she took in her surroundings, before focusing on Michael, amethyst eyes staring up into his sea green. "…This is not my home."

"Ah, well, hi," Michael chuckled as the spell finished and he felt the binding settle into place.

The girl raised an eyebrow at that, then giggled. "Hoh? You seek to leash me?"

"Well… more of a binding us together than a leash. And, I mean, wizard," he said, as though it explained everything. And in a way, it did.

Her plump lips pulled into a smile. "Oh ho~. Binding us together, you say? How bold~." She hummed, studying his face for a moment, before nodding. "I like it! It's been a long time since anyone has tried to contract with me, and I have to admit, this is the first time someone has tried to bind themselves to me. Very well, I accept your proposal!"

Standing up, she moved over to the edge of the circle she was in and stopped as she touched the magical barrier, looking impressed at the strength of it as she ran her fingers over it. "For some reason, you look… irritatingly familiar. Tell me, brave boy, what's your name?"

"Michael," he told her, but didn't give the rest of his name. True names were magically powerful and could give anyone with the power and knowledge to use it some level of influence or control over someone else—such as the way Michael had leveraged Gamori's name against her…

"'Michael?'" she repeated, tasting the name as a look of amusement came over her face. "One of his brood, then. That is… amusing."

"'He' who?" Michael asked, confused.

"Michael." At his further confusion, she clarified, "The archangel."

Michael sent her a skeptical look. "I kind of doubt—"

"Nope! I can smell it. It's there, hidden in your mana. Don't worry, it's nothing too important, and it's not recent. At least twenty generations back. But like all the ancient beings, he occasionally comes down to mingle with the common folk. He probably put the name in your mother's ear and gave you that little personal touch to make sure you'd turn out looking as you do."

"If you say so," he shrugged. "So, what do I call you? Gamori?"

She smiled at that. "Ah, I haven't heard that version of my name in a long time. It also explains why you got me and not one of my descendants. There are many Gremory, but only one Gamori left. But that's our family name. My given name is Runeas, please use it!"

Looking down at the circle below her, she chuckled. "This is very good work. I approve! Very strong, too. However, husband, you must understand the gulf in our respective powers if ever you hope to cross it."

"Wait. What did you just call me?"

"Husband. Please call me 'wife' when we're together," she grinned.

"But wait, I'm not, we're not—"

"Nope, it's too late! No take-backs!" Runeas shook her head, then stepped forward, into and then through the barrier, which worked about as effectively at keeping her in as a soap bubble—and popped just as easily. "And now…"

Michael's jaw fell open as he felt her power, which had been drowsily waking up before now, suddenly swell as she physically stretched, growing out a set of black, bat-like wings. The binding he'd placed on her snapped, like cobwebs as someone walked right through them, though he felt part of it—the part that bound them together and would have let them share mana eventually—held in place, before Runeas pulled it into herself and metaphorically welded it in place. And for just an instant, Michael felt her mana flowing into him. It was like touching a live wire and it knocked him flat on his ass.

"Wha-what did you do?" he slurred, his entire body feeling strangely both energized and lethargic. "What are you?"

"Oopsie~! Hehe~! Don't worry, it won't happen again," she brushed off the accident. "And you know what I am. You summoned me specifically, after all."

"A succubus?"

The redhead paused, tilting her head a bit to the side as an annoyed twitch developed in one eye. "You… you think I am some low level sexual vampire?!"

"Uh… yeah? I found your name in a story about a succubus belly dancing for a couple of wizards," Michael supplied. "And then you seduced them."

Wait. She said 'Gremory.' Why does that sound familiar? Like, I should know this familiar?

"Belly dan—" Runeas paused, then her face lit up with a blush even as she laughed. "Hahaha~! Oh, that, that was a long, long time ago! Those two idiots told people about it?! Ugh. Okay, first of all, I didn't seduce them both at the same time. It was one at a time! Secondly, I'm not some low class prostitute leech. I'll have you know I am a first-generation, high class devil, sired by Lucifer and Lilith themselves! I fought in the Great War against God himself and his angels, and Azazel and the fallen, standing shoulder to shoulder with the Four Great Satans! I am a duke of hell and the progenitor of the devil house of Gremory, Runeas Gremory! The Gremory! Gamori, Gaeneron, Gemon, Gemyem. She who rides a camel and wears a duchess's crown, who reveals hidden treasures and speaks truths of the past, present, and future!"

Michael's mouth fell open and his head slowly turned to look at his book shelf. At the Lemegeton… a collection of books, one of which was the Ars Goetia. The book that named the seventy-two houses of hell, of which Gremory was one.

"Oh," Michael managed to get out, as he realized just how badly he might have fucked up here.

"Now! Let us consummate our marriage!"

Michael's brain skipped, like a record scratch. He managed a quiet giggle as he realized the truth. Well, she could easily kill me for trying to capture and bind her, but instead she's taken 'binding' to mean marriage. You know what? It sounds better than death. I'll take it!

The redhead flicked her fingers and Michael found himself levitated off the ground. "Where's the bedroom?"

Runeas looked around the small basement apartment as she went. She hummed, taking in the combined kitchen/living room area as they passed through it. She poked her head into the small bathroom, crowded by an over-sized, ancient claw foot tub. She found the closet with the building's large water heater and piping. Finally, in the far back of the home, behind another silver wire threshold, she found the bedroom.

The bedroom was small and simply furnished, with a queen sized bed taking up one corner of the room and a computer desk in the other corner. A laundry basket stood beside the closet door, nearly overflowing with dirty clothes. The bed was unmade and looked recently slept in.

"I must say, husband, I am disappointed!" she pouted as she pulled him inside and shut the door behind them.

For the first time in his life, Michael felt shame for not keeping up with the essentials. He was a wizard, he had spells for exactly this sort of thing. He didn't even need to wash or fold his laundry, when a few words and gestures would have that taken care of.

"Okay, look. School has been a nightmare and with finals last week, I haven't had time to clean," Michael defended himself. He normally did do better, but he'd let things go because he had been busy studying.

"Hm?" Runeas asked as she gestured and the bed cleaned, straightened, and made itself. She dropped him on top of the bed and pinned him there with her magic, then crawled up after him. "No, I wasn't speaking to the state of your laundry, though that could use some work too! I am disappointed that this is your domicile. I can clearly feel the threshold and boundaries, and the wards you've placed, and it's tiny. You haven't even expanded the internal space! A wizard worth his salt could turn an outhouse into a palace, with enough time and effort. However, you should easily be able to make your fortune with your magic. That you do not own a castle of your own, with an impressively tall and menacing tower, is disappointing. Are you a wizard or aren't you?!"

"And freak out the landlord? Have the existence of magic spread across the world? No one lives in castles anymore!"

Runeas waved a hand dismissively as she settled herself on his lap. "That's what mind magic is for. Alter their memories, plant suggestions to stay away, and so on. Also, I live in a castle, so that's no excuse for this poor showing!"

Michael shook his head. "I don't like messing with people's heads. It seems kind of… rape-y."

The woman on his lap stared for a moment, before bursting out into laughter. "A wizard with a conscience? Oh, that is precious~!"

Leaning down, she pressed her robe-clad breasts into Michael's chest as she laid herself out on top of him, one hand coming up to stroke his face and hair as she brought her face in, sniffing him deeply. Abruptly, Runeas' purple eyes went wide as she stiffened atop him. "Oh my~."

Michael went a bit red in the face. "What now?"

Carefully, Runeas leaned forward and licked him, from his jaw, over his cheek, nearly to his eye. She smacked her lips and leered down at him. "You're a virgin~."

"What?! N-no! I'm not! I just—"

"Shh, shh, shh~!" Runeas shushed him, pressing a finger to Michael's lips. "Hush now, husband. There is no need to lie to your wife. In fact, please don't. The Gremory cardinal sin is lust, not deceit, and I don't appreciate it. Not a bit! Not even for little things! I will be true to you, so long as you are true to me, this I swear to you."

And with a gesture, and a small circle depicting the Gremory crest, Michael blinked as he felt Runeas create a magical pact between them. It wouldn't force anything, from what he could tell, but it would let either of them know when the other was being dishonest.

The woman smiled down at him… then rolled her hips slowly, grinding her crotch into his and causing his cock, already at half mast from having the sexy, dangerous, powerful woman on top of him went diamond hard. "Now, tell me the truth. I want to hear it from your own lips. Are you a virgin or not, boy~?"

Michael closed his eyes and groaned quietly as Runeas slowly teased him, smiling a smug little bratty grin down on him. Eventually, he gave in. "Yes."

"Yes… what?"

"Yes, I'm a virgin," he admitted his shame. A man his age and he still had yet to get laid. The closest he'd ever gotten was a bit of over the clothes fondling with a girl at a party, before she passed out drunk and then got sick all over the couch she had been sleeping on—thankfully not his couch, or while he was on it.

"And how old are you?"

"Twenty-two."

"Ara~, you really are just a boy~ still," she grinned. "Though I cannot offer you the treasure of my own virginity, you are my first husband, and hopefully my only. But worry not, husband! I have something the little girls your age don't! Several things, really! Ehehehe~! But the one you're going to enjoy most is experience. Just wait, you'll see!"

Runeas again flicked her fingers, and this time Michael felt his clothes slipping off of him, transmuting briefly to liquid before solidifying and flying over to land in the laundry basket. Another flick of the fingers had the room's light off and conjured several floating magical lights that filled the room with a much more pleasing orange glow.

Sitting up on his lap, Michael's hard cock slipping between Runeas's already wet, bare lips, the redhead splayed her hands out over his chest and hummed for a moment, before a grin pulled at her lips. "Ah! You humans still need to use incantations, gestures, and components for your spells, don't you?"

"Yeah," he confirmed, wondering where she was going as he strained against the power holding him, flexing his arms. Runeas noticed his struggling and released her hold over his arms. Immediately, Michael reached up and ran his hands over her smooth, creamy thighs, slipping up under her silk robe and over her hips.

"Mm, that's nice~," Runeas purred, her eyes going half-lidded as she slowly rolled her hips back and forth, her lips dripping copiously onto his crotch and making a mess as she got them both good and wet. A bit of willpower and mana had a red spell circle forming around the bed, hovering in the air around them. Then another, and another, as something too complex for Michael to grasp at one time formed.

"Unfortunately, a man's virginity is not nearly as symbolically magically potent as a woman's. However! There are ways to compensate for that. For instance! You are a young boy and I am a very cute but ancient devil, a temptress and seductress preying upon your innocence! Devils are renown for their magical ability and making deals, and wizards are just as renown for taking those deals, which likewise holds weight. It was we devils who taught you humans magic, so it's only fitting that I offer this wedding gift. A contract between us! So long as we are husband and wife, I will grant you the knowledge of how to cast magic as we devils do, by force of will alone."

Michael looked perplexed, as he tried to focus on her words and not the amazingly hot, wet, bare pussy teasing him in a way that made him want to grab her hips and slam himself into her. She was right there, all he had to do was move a bit and angle his hips and he'd be in! The only thing stopping him was that Runeas was quite obviously in the middle of a ritual and about to give him a gift that other wizards would literally kill for.

"Is that even possible?" he managed to ask.

The girl laughed. "Who do you think I am, boy?! For a devil, nothing is impossible, so long as you've got the magical clout to back it up! And short of the Satans themselves, I stand at the top, with very few peers. Now, kiss me," she demanded and leaned forward, her lips smashing into Michael's hard enough to hurt just a bit as her mouth opened and her tongue slipped out, teasing his own as she explored his mouth. Reaching down between them, she took his cock in hand and lifted her hips. A moment after that, Runeas moaned into Michael's mouth as she slid herself slowly down, taking him in to the base.

Michael groaned as the magic around them flared and contracted, filling him as it settled into place. Something in his mind expanded and suddenly, it was like… like turning the lights on in a room he'd been fumbling around in the dark for all of his life. Like a blind man cured and made to see. The lame made to walk. A limb he didn't know he was missing was suddenly there and he could do anything with it.

"Mm~," Runeas purred, shifting her hips and making Michael thrust up to meet her. Breaking their kiss, she rested her forehead against his. "Congratulations. Tonight, you are a man."

Michael felt a bit embarrassed, but he reached up and stroked her face as she had him, causing Runeas to lean into his touch with a happy smile. "Thank you, Runeas."

"You are very welcome," she nodded. "Touch me more. However, wherever you'd like. Explore my body to your heart's content. Relax, husband. Tonight is your first time, and it is our first night as husband and wife. I will treat you with tender love, care, and affection and show you how to please a woman." She grinned and added, "Being a virgin before now has its upsides. You have no bad habits I need to break. Now, if there is anything you particularly like or dislike, please tell me as we discover it together. But first…"

Sitting up, the redhead untied the strings holding her robe closed and tossed it aside, exposing her body to Michael's eyes. She was beautiful—supernatural, transcendental, unequaled beauty that would have hurt to look at if it didn't make him want to push her down and take her in every way he, and the internet, could imagine. She was just as the text on her described, and yet it completely failed to live up to the real thing. Bright, blood red hair. Amethyst purple eyes, set in a very young looking face that seemed to want to be in a perpetual mischievous expression. A woman's curves and developed body—with thick thighs, wide hips, a tight tummy, and big breasts capped in wide, bright pink areolas and thick nipples that drew the eye and made him want to suck on them. Between her legs was completely bare, but he could make out fat, hairless lips and glimpses of a big, pink clit.

Runeas chuckled as she met his gaze. "Yes, I know. I am truly a wonder to look upon, am I not?"

"So humble, my… wife is," he teased, hesitating on the word 'wife' for only a moment. Runeas grinned, sticking her tongue out at him.

Her eyes roamed over Michael's form and she grinned. "You aren't so bad yourself, husband. I can tell this is all natural—a product of hard work. But you can be better, especially now. We'll fix that later. For now, there was something in particular you wanted, wasn't there? You were reading that old tale about me, after all. Let me show you~."

With that, Runeas began to move and sway where she sat, rocking her hips back and forth, side to side, up and down as she flexed her stomach and made her breasts dance hypnotically. Her arms moved as she danced for Michael, and his eyes rolled back in his head as he found he was unable to do anything but grit his teeth and bear it, trying not to come immediately as her insides squeezed and rolled around him in time with her movements. It was incredible—beyond anything he had ever hoped for.

"Open your eyes, husband. Look upon me," Runeas demanded, and Michael forced himself to look. "Do not hold yourself back on my account. We have all the time in the world to enjoy each other, and for you to grow and learn, and ascend to my level. Enjoy yourself."

Michael reached up and cupped Runeas's large breasts, and the woman smiled down at him as she shook her chest a bit harder, making them dance in his hands as he teased her nipples and kneaded the soft, warm, pillowy flesh of her bosom. She watched his face, studying him with a grin as she took in his every reaction to everything she did. To her surprise, the former virgin actually managed to last five whole minutes of her belly dancing on his lap, through sheer willpower alone.

Then, his eyes rolled up in his head and he grunted as he grabbed Runeas's hips, squeezing her tightly in a way she loved as he throbbed mightily inside her, pumping hot sperm inside her eager, thirsty pussy.

Mm~. I think I want to get pregnant again… Another child sounds nice. It's a shame that devils are so difficult to impregnate. Perhaps we'll get lucky, though. With enough time.

Michael panted quietly as he went limp beneath her and Runeas giggled at his cute face. The entirely too cute, beautiful face of one of her greatest enemies, in human form beneath her. There was a sinfully delicious irony in corrupting and marrying one of Archangel Michael's human lineage, and seeing his face twisted in pleasure as she brought him to his peakbeneath her gave her a dark little thrill of revenge.

She held no ill will towards her Michael at all, however. She admired him for his stupid bravery, for daring to try to summon and tame her. Perhaps it was impulsive of her to rush into marriage like this, but… she may be old, but she was still young at heart, damnit!

Besides… she had to hand it to the archangel. The man had style and a wonderful sense of beauty in his creations, and those he shaped. Her Michael clearly bore the archangel's mark, but he was incomplete. Runeas intended to finish him, though. To shape him to her desires.

She hadn't had a peer, a true equal, since nearly everyone from her generation but Zekram died. And while she had fathered a clan with the Bael duke, she wanted nothing to do with the man. He wasn't her husband. She couldn't trust him, couldn't allow herself to relax and be anything but her absolute best around him. So the chance to take a fresh, young, human husband was too good to pass up. That he was of Michael's descendant and a wizard were both good reasons to keep him around as well.

…Zeoticus is totally going to see right through me when I try to tell him that's why I did it, not just because he was cute and I liked his spunk. Also, I've been on such a long dry spell. I didn't even take a lover the last time I was awake!

Speaking of… "What did you think, husband?"

"That," he huffed, "wow."

"I am amazing, I know," she grinned. "I told you. There is value to be had in a skilled, older lover."

Cracking one eye open, Michael studied her for a moment before frowning. "You didn't come."

Runeas chuckled and shook her head. "No, I didn't. But by the end of the night, I'll make sure to teach you how to climb to the peak together. And then, once you have grasped the basics, I'll introduce magic!"

"You look exhausted. Here, I made breakfast," Runeas smiled as she took Michael by the shoulders and guided him to the table, before energetically heading back to the stove. "Don't get used to it, however! I'll warn you now, your wife is not normally so thoughtful, this early in the morning. In fact, sloth and gluttony are my other two favorite sins, aside from lust and greed."

"And pride," Michael grunted as he dug in to the plate of eggs, sausage, and toast—about all he had on hand at the moment.

"Of course!" Runeas nodded, taking it as a complement as she moved her own food off onto her plate, shut off the stove, and moved to sit across from him at the small table. "There are some things you must learn, in order to be my equal. You have plenty of time to learn them, so do not worry. The first is that I enjoy being childish. It's fun for me. Teasing, being needy, testing, trying someone's patience, these are all things I enjoy."

"Being a brat?" he asked, and she thought about it a moment before nodding.

"Yes! That's it exactly! Being a brat. I like the word! It makes me want to spank someone!" she grinned. "You must learn when to indulge me, and when to discipline me."

"'Discipline' as in…?"

"Exactly as I said. Take me over your knee and spank me until my behind turns red and I bawl and beg you to stop. Choke me and slap my face and breasts as you push your member between my lips to silence me. Bend me over and penetrate my sex and anus as you violently take me on whatever surface happens to be nearby, preferably while spanking me until I cry and beg you to stop, but don't actually stop."

Michael stared at her as she calmly listed out just what she wanted him to do, when she started giving him an excuse to do it. "But uh, wouldn't some of that hurt…?"

"The pain is half the fun! Uehehe~!" she giggled, before waving him off. "Besides, I am a high class devil. Nothing you do will actually hurt me, unless you start using spells or holy relics, and even then the gulf between our power is so great at the moment that you couldn't. In fact, I would welcome it if you could, because it would mean we are closer to equals—which is what I want. Because while I very much enjoy the novelty of teaching an inexperienced young man how to please me, eventually I want you to be able to stand on your own feet, beside me.

"I don't want a meek, submissive man mewling and fawning over me. Nor do I want an overbearing, arrogant man stepping upon my pride and treating me as an ornament, a decoration in his collection. I want an equal. Someone who can stand beside me, be proud of me and proud for me, and for whom I can feel pride. Someone who will treat me as a lady of my standing should be treated in public, while acting as the gentleman that belongs on my arm, but who will also absolutely trample my pride in the bedroom, for fun."

Michael ate in silence for a few moments as he nodded and thought about her words. Eventually, he pointed out, "You're being really direct about this. Why?"

"Because if you want something, you must be direct! You cannot imply, talk around the point, or beat around the bush. You must speak up! I swore I would be true to you, so long as you were true to me. This is part of that. I will speak my needs and wants from the heart, with pride and without an ounce of shame, because as my husband you should know these things. Likewise, I expect you to do the same. Be direct with me. Tell me the things you need and want, and if it is within my power, I will give them to you! I will indulge you just as you indulge me. A good relationship is not give and take, it is give and give. Both sides must be willing to give their all and speak up when they want more."

"So, communicate. Gotcha," he nodded.

"Mm! And speaking of communication… When we're finished eating, go pack your things. We're leaving."

"Leaving?" Michael echoed, before asking, "Like on a trip—?"

"No. Leaving. This place is a wreck that is one stiff wind or harsh winter from falling in upon itself. In fact, I think it's your magic lending it the stability it needs to keep from doing so. We will be moving to one of my homes in the human world. We won't be there long, just long enough to drop off your things. Then, we'll go to the devil world to make the announcement to my family. I'll give you some money and you will go with my grandson and shop for a couple of rings in the devil world for the both of us. After that, we're going on a honeymoon! You have a lot of work to do to catch up to me, but I think that with some effort you can get close enough."

Frowning, Michael asked, "What about my schooling?"

Runeas opened her mouth, only to pause and nod. "You're right! That was thoughtless of me. I apologize, husband. I thought only of what we could do together to get you to where I need you and didn't think to consider your thoughts or feelings on the matter. Please discipline me thoroughly for this slip later," she sent him a grin. "I'll have a nice paddle commissioned, with a cross etched into it so that it actually hurts, just a little…"

"Runeas," Michael sent her a flat look, "you're getting distracted."

"And it's times like that that you should remind me to get back on topic. Physically," she pointed out with a smile. "What do you want to do, husband? With your life, in the future?"

"I don't know," Michael answered honestly. "Being a wizard is great, but it doesn't really pay the bills. Or if it does, I haven't found a way to market it. It's not like I can just advertise 'wizard for hire' in the yellow pages. Not that there are phone books anymore. I'm in school for engineering, but… it doesn't really to appeal to me."

"Mm, I see. Do you have any family?"

Michael shook his head. "Dad died when I was little. Mom passed away last year. No siblings. I met a distant uncle once, at the funeral, but that was the first and last time I ever saw him. Actually, he kind of looked like me with long hair."

"That would be your namesake," Runeas nodded.

"I got a random visit from an archangel? Nice thought, but I don't buy it."

"Perhaps I'm mistaken. We shall see," the redhead smiled. "Let me ask you this, then. What would you work for, if not for family?"

The blond man shrugged. "To be able to live? Own a home, pay for utilities and food, occasionally buy nice things."

"So money, resources, and shelter," she summarized, and he nodded. "But we are married now, husband. What's mine is yours and what's yours is mine. That includes your burdens, hopes, and dreams. I have money—much money, if my family has managed it well while I've slept between centuries. I have several homes. All the things you would need or could want, I will gladly provide. With that in mind, tell me… What would you work for?"

Michael sat back in his chair as what Runeas said hit home. Without a need to work in order to live, there would really be nothing to work for. He didn't enjoy the idea of working to make someone else money, just so he could take home a pittance. He would take no pride or joy in being a wage slave. He didn't want to subject himself to wasting a third of his life just toiling away.

"I wouldn't," he admitted. "And if I don't need to get a job, then school is worthless too. I can just drop out and focus on my wizarding…"

"Which would make you stronger, which would bring you closer to being my equal faster," Runeas pointed out with a smile. "You see? If we work together, we can conquer nearly any problem. So, would you be against meeting my family and making the announcement?"

"I guess not," Michael shook his head. "But we don't really know anything about each other."

"Then we shall remedy that, husband! You can start by telling me your family name. You don't have to, because as of last night you are now Michael Gremory, but I would appreciate it. Also,I know the importance of names to wizards, but I would think that after last night, I've earned that much, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah," he sent her a smile. "It's Cross. Michael Cross."

She's cute when she laughs, but… I think that's more of a cackle, he mused as Runeas lost it across from him, howling in laughter as she kicked her feet under the table. I'm not sure I want to know what she thinks is so funny.