July 2021 Microfic! (Totally on time)

Hey y'all!

Gearing up for a move is taking up more of my time then I hoped lol. It's fine, it'll all be over soon!

~Benn {Doomgender} Ends

Theme: Subservience 

Prompt: Someone who sold their soul to a demon a long time ago finds out they actually love serving their new owner, and the relationship adjusts

Suggested by BZArcher (Blind Zen Archer) (Thank you!!)

CW:

• Slightly messy power dynamic
• Mostly implied sexual content
• Bite marks/bruises
• Eternity of servitude in hell but it's really not so bad
• Being dead, technically
• Long term relationship/domesticity
• Really slapdash contract writing

~~~

With a sigh, you pull back the curtains in the main room. Eerie red light streams into the room, painting the hall like blood. The sky profane before you, black clouds run through with red light from the fake sky of hell.

You blink twice, eyes glazed over from sleepiness. Then you go to open the rest of the curtains. Too many curtains around here.

Lets see. Curtains, sweep the entryway, then wake up Master.

“Can’t wake herself up even once ever,” you grumble. “It would have to be a damn miracle.” 

After Master is awake, you have to cook breakfast, see her off to work, take a shower, then go shopping. You’ve been putting it off for a couple days, but Master will whine if you run out of peach tea. You open the front door to sweep the dirt out, and a cool breeze rolls in, refreshing and prickly. It’s always so stuffy in the house, but Master likes the windows closed.

You stand in front of the door, eyes closed, enjoying the cold while you idly play with the single chain link hanging from the shackle on your left wrist. You’re so used to it now that it’s become a comforting habit.

How long has it been? One hundred years and some? The anniversary is coming up next month, you should really look it up exactly.

Opening your eyes, you resume sweeping.

~~~

You knock politely at Master’s door. After ten seconds, you knock again. Still no answer. She never answers, you just like to be proper about this part.

“Excuse me, I’m coming in.”

You swing the door open, and your eyebrow twitches.

Her room is a mess. It’s like she emptied out her wardrobe across the whole massive suite. There are leather pants hanging from the *chandelier*. You just tidied up while she was out yesterday, how does she always do this. 

And her? She’s sprawled across the bed that you made right before she got home yesterday, blankets piled in the center like a horrible nest she’s poking out of. The bed is huge, and she always sleeps dead in the center of it.

You bite back a grimace, and say at an appropriate volume “Master. I’ve come to wake you up.”

No response.

“Master, you only have forty five minutes before you have to leave for work. It’s time to get up.”

A wicked grin starts to break across your face.

“Well, third times the charm.”

“Master, it’s time to GET UP” you announce as you lift one end of the mattress sharply, sending her rolling onto the floor with a yelp of surprise.

You manage to choke back your snicker right before she pops her head over the side of the bed, glaring suspiciously. You keep your face innocent and blank.

“You brat. Do you have to do this every day?”

“I have yet to find another, more effective method of waking you up on time.”

“Don’t try and dress it up, I know you’re just doing it because you like making my life miserable.”

You smile cheerfully.

“It’s important to have hobbies, Master.”

She pulls herself up to her feet, smoothing her pajamas out. They’re a silky material, black with little red bats on them. The edge of her blanket has caught on one of her horns, and she fussily detaches it. It’s really a relief that she agreed to wear the soft horn caps to bed, or she’d still be tearing through her sheets nightly.

“Alright, alright, I’m up. You win.”

“Excellent. I’ll go prepare breakfast.”

“Perfect. I’ll have the usual.”

~~~

You’re flipping the last slice of french toast onto the plate when she finally makes it downstairs, dressed, but her hair still a complete mess.

“Have you considered having anything else besides french toast for breakfast, Master?”

“I’ll switch when I get tired of it.”

“It’s been about twenty years.”

She makes doesn’t blink while she meets your eyes, munching a piece. 

“I said what I said.”

You sigh, and pass her the syrup.

“Don’t tell me you’re bored of cooking the same thing?”

“I’m dead, Master, I don’t get bored.”

“That’s the spirit!”

She gives you a wide grin, then catches herself just before she pours syrup on lap.

“Hah, look at me, I’m really on the ball today.”

You can’t help but start giggling. You look away, covering your face with one hand to stifle the laughter.

“What? You making fun of me?”

That just makes you laugh harder.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just that you’re such a mess Master.”

“Hey!”

She points her fork at you. “You’re supposed to respect me you little brat.”

“I do, it’s just, I’m shocked you managed to come meet me on Earth that day, I would have thought you’d be buried under a pile of clothes and syrup. How on earth did you manage without me?”

She pouts, forking another slice of toast into her mouth.

“I did just fine, thank you.”

You snort, and sit down with your own plate of food. She immediately snags one of your sausages.

“I’d make you your own if you asked, Master.”

“I don’t want my own, I want it because it’s yours.”

“Greedy to your bones, aren’t you.”

“Yeah it’s in my nature.”

She pats your head, mussing up your hair a little. You roll your eyes, trying not to think about blushing.

“You better not be wiping syrup into my hair.”

“I’m not a god damned wild animal.”

“You are a god damned demon though.”

She smiles cheekily, and steals another sausage.

~~~

After much protesting, you got her to let you brush her hair. She has beautiful hair, black and silky and long, complimenting the bloodred of her skin. She just can’t take care of it to save her life.

“You’re lucky you were born a demon you know.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’d have no hair left if you were human. You treat your whole body like it’s an enemy you have to destroy.”

She leans back suddenly, her head pressed against your chest, her horns near your throat. You look down sternly. She’s annoyingly pretty, even after all this time. Your heart still skips a beat when she looks at you, just like it did the very first time you laid eyes on her.

“You complain but you like doting on me.”

You cover her eyes with one hand so she can’t see your face turn a little pink.

“I’m not doting on you. I’m fulfilling the terms of our contract, *Master*.”

She springs to her feet, somehow managing not to tear up your outfit with her horns. She’s standing over you in a flash. She’s tall, taller than you, thumb under your chin, tiling your head up, close to your face, you want to look at her lips but you can’t break from her eyes.

“Just admit.”

Her teeth click together, mouth like a shark’s.

“That you like me.”

Your shoulder aches dully.

“After all the time we’ve spent together, you don’t have to be so shy.”

You swallow, and look away.

“You’re too much trouble.”

She laughs, pulling away so you can breath again.

“And you’re a bad liar.”

You walk her to the front door, and she turns to face you

“Take care of things while I’m out?”

“Of course, Master.”

Before you catch her, she kisses your forehead. You yelp and swat at her as she dances out of reach.

“You’re harassing me now?”

“You didn’t think it was harassment the other night.”

You throw her bag directly at her head, and she catches it, slipping out the door.

“See you later~”

And you’re left standing in the hallway, flustered.

~~~

The water is running, steam drifting through the air as you undress.

“She’s so cocky,” you mutter to yourself. “I have to clean up after her lazy ass for all eternity and she thinks I like her?” 

You start to fold your clothes, more out of habit then necessity. 

You click your tongue, annoyed.

“Of course I like you, you idiot. I liked you from the start.”

Two hundred and some years passed like a breathe.

That day, you didn’t really understand how much your life was going to change. You thought you did, but you were so shortsighted.

“Power is cheap. That’s really all you want?”

You nodded, looking at the decadent figure draped in black, eyes glowing violet in the dim light on the other side of sunset. It was a little used crossroad outside the town, where no one else would interrupt.

Nervously, you continued.

“I want to be the greatest sorcerer of the modern era. I want everyone to know my name, to fear me and the power I hold at my fingertips!”

The figure sighed, scrapping her claws together idly as you spoke.

“My first ever summon, and that’s all you want? It’s so boring kid.”

“Kid? I’m twenty.”

“Yeah, well I’m 453 years old.”

“Oh. Right, of course.”

You thought about it for a moment.

“Um. Doesn’t that work out to be about twenty in human years?”

The figure made an indignant noise, shadows flowing from her body like a wall of steam as she stamped over to you. Her very presence loomed like the sky underwater, and suddenly you understood what if meant to be at the bottom of the food chain. The stars winked out, the glow of distant houses vanished, it seemed as if every light in the world grew dim for fear of her. You could hardly breath.

“The fact is, that I might be young too, but you’re here to hand your life over to me, so I think I deserve a little respect.”

It was a cold night but her being this close was like standing by a great fire. Your skin prickled from a warmth so blissful it almost hurt. You got a good look at her face, and realized that she was the most beautiful creature you had ever seen, even as she ran her tongue over her lip like you were her next meal.

“I- I’m sorry ma’am.”

“Ma’am? Oh that’s even worse.”

You gasped, frozen in place as she grabbed your face, turned it this way and that, claws dug in ever so slightly.

“If you’re dead set on being boring, I’ll spice up my end. You know what happens when you make a deal with a devil?”

With a nervous intake of breath, you manage to respond.

“You die young, and your soul goes to Hell.”

She leaned close to your ear, still holding fast to your face.

“That’s right. But, see, I want something a little more personal.”

“W-w-what do you want. As long as I see my wish granted, I’ll do anything.”

She laughed with a snort.

“That’s a dangerous thing to say.”

Pulling back, she released you, pacing while tapping her finger on her cheek.

“Ah, how about this! You’ll get what you want, and be a little tyrant or whatever for, say, ten years. Then, you’ll come be with me.”

Her eyes glinted excitement in the dark.

“You’ll be my servant, forever more. Mine to keep, dress, and put to work as I see fit.”

“I-”

Is it worth it, you thought to yourself in that moment. Forever is longer than ten years. But, now you know that when you’re young, you can’t really understand how different they are.

“And! Oh this is good- And, you’ll call me Master! Forever!”

You know, there were probably some signs back that that she didn’t really know what she was doing that you should maybe have picked up on.

“My own live in servant! Imagine it! I’ll be a proper prince of hell then!”

Yeah. You were just so focused on your goal.

“So what do you say, little mage-tyrant in the making?”

You open your eyes and the memories fade to the back of your mind.

“You dumbass,” you murmur under your breath. “I didn’t want to rule anything. I just wanted people to look up to me.”

And you traded away most of your life for it. You look down at the ridiculous uniform Master chose for you, and set it down, folded neatly.

“But, maybe it worked out for the best.”

You step into the shower, wincing from the heat and turning it down just a little.

Sure she’s a pain in the ass. And sure the terms of your contract are so needlessly specific that  you literally cannot call her anything *but* Master. And her little manor in Hell was a nightmare to clean up when you first arrived. And- well, you could keep doing this all day, next thought.

The good parts? Well, she’s pretty. And, you’ve actually found that, after putting so much pressure on yourself while you were alive, a quiet afterlife suits you more than you would have thought.

Not to mention that it really turns out that the two of you get along well. You’ve gotten really.. close, over the years.

“Ow.”

You move your shoulder out of the water, looking down at the mostly-healed wound. A bite. Deep. After every time you tell Master not to bite so hard, but you both know you don’t mean it.

Your fingers drift across stinging skin, and you take a small, shuddery breath, remembering how the moment you got that mark. The sound of the water drops away like a curtain was pulled. Her hands on you. Your weak gasps. Your stockings ripping. Body burning. Voice trembling. “Master, h-harder-” as she snarls and.

Your eyes snap open.

“If she could only be less annoying we’d be the perfect couple,” you joke to the steamy room. You wash you body carefully, being delicate with the fresh bruises where she grasped your hips as she dragged your quivering body closer so she could.

You shake your head.

“Can’t spend all day fantasizing. Someone has to do the shopping.”

Back in your room, you go through your wardrobe. You have mostly just copies of the same embarrassing uniform, with some special variants for holidays. For a long time you thought Master just had a very specific fetish. While that is technically true, it’s also another consequence of sloppy contract writing. You’re incapable of wearing clothes besides those picked out by Master. 

You pull our a fresh pack of stockings from the dwindling stack. Time to get more. You’re lucky if you get three uses out of a pair. Add it to the list.

Shopping is uneventful. You’re a familiar face at the market, and you only need to visit a couple shops to clear your list. You spend most of your time trying to decide what to cook for dinner. Master isn’t nearly as picky as she is with breakfast. 

Later, when you’re setting things out to start cooking, you feel the distinct impulse that lets you know when Master is almost home. As usual, you come out to greet her, and she follows you into the kitchen.

“You don’t have to keep an eye on me you know. I’ve gotten a lot better than when I first came here.”

She leans inelegantly over the counter, eyes following your around the room.

“Yeah, sure, but I like watching you cook.”

And you smile and shake your head and mind the food, but hearing that makes something inside you feel very warm.

“You ever think that, given how we met, it’s a miracle we can still stand each other?”

Master laughs and takes a sip of her drink.

“It’s cuz I’m so lovable. I’m mean you’re pretty good yourself, for a human.”

You throw the dishrag you just dried your hands on at her, and she falls out of her chair trying to dodge it.

“Whaa!”

She pops back up, the towel snagged on one of her horns, and you snicker.

“I’m gonna destroy you for that.”

“At least wait till after dinner. I worked hard on this.”

She climbs back up and leans on the counter and you finish the food and she helps you bring it out to the table. It’s a perfectly ordinary boring day, but sometimes that’s the nicest kind of day. You sit across from her and watch her dig in enthusiastically. She flaunts table manners as a point of pride, so it’s truly horrible to watch, but you just smile.

Yeah. 

Who needs heaven anyway.

~~~