Hell To Pay (9 page)

He could have privacy whenever he liked, and took some time each day to review his books of magic, experiment, and consider... possibilities. But when he asked her if she could meet him at the other end of a flight to Paris, she just said, “Why would I need to do that?”

“Well, you don’t have any ID. Or a ticket. Or anything.”

She shook her head and gave him the look a teacher might give a particularly slow pupil. “I told you already. I don’t pay for things.” She held out her hand and suddenly there was a passport in it. Bemused, he took it and found that she was a citizen of the Czech Republic, exactly twenty-one years old. A French visa stood sharply on the first page of stamps. She held out her hand again with a smirk and displayed a first-class Lufthansa boarding pass for the next flight to Paris.

“I thought you wouldn’t make money. This is practically the same thing.”

“This is for
me
. You can buy your own.”

He nodded. “And the computers and the video cameras and such?”

“Will experience the most inexplicable malfunctions. No records. How strange.” The smirk got broader.

Simon laughed heartily. “You’d make a good secret agent.”

A dimpled smile. “I
am
. You’ve never heard of an
agent provocateur?
”

Now he
roared
with laughter. “You’ve been waiting to use that, haven’t you?”

“Since the word was invented. So can we go? Or do you have any more silly questions?”

He walked toward the desk where he kept his laptop. “Let me book us...
me...
some tickets.”

#

Tokyo...

Simon remained firm in his parameters for their playmates. No children, no animals, nobody who wasn’t already looking for a good time. But Lily saw a “Gothic Lolita” magazine at the airport and nothing would keep her from dressing up in the most romantic, decadent, sexually provocative yet totally unrevealing getup she could put together in Harajuku. (For once, she wouldn’t just summon it up: Simon, as he hauled out his wallet, thought that this was a fine time for her to discover the meaning of integrity.) She thought it the absolute apex of the seductress’s art. Tall, pale-skinned Simon and his luscious companion would have gotten stares enough in Japan, but once she was (literally) all dolled up, Simon didn’t think other people even knew he was there.

Groping pretty girls was more or less a national sport in crowded Japan, but miraculously, Lily always had a small cushion of personal space, even on the infamous Tokyo subway. Every time a crowd of would-be
frotteurs
moved in her direction, she was somehow smiling at them pleasantly. The ones that didn’t scare off got a little closer and then dropped to their knees in uncomprehending agony. The first time it happened Simon looked at her with alarm.

“Nothing to worry about, Simon. It’s just... there’s such a thing as
too much
lust. At least for these weaklings.” She waved her parasol imperiously and gave a sniff that would have done a Duchess credit.

That night, half-a-dozen “Lolitas,” in name if not in age, worshipped mindlessly at the feet of a dark goddess. Midnight hair writhed around her in waves and moans and musk filled the air. For once, Simon was content to watch.

And make the occasional suggestion.

New York...

“You’ll love it, Simon. Trust me.” She tried very hard to look trustworthy. It didn’t work particularly well, but he had to give her an A for effort.

“Let me get this straight. You want me to take you to a bondage club so we can watch people hurt each other.”

“Of course not. I know you wouldn’t like that.” Her face said that this was still a mystery to her, but she went on. “These aren’t real slaves, and they’re not allowed to actually abuse them. Everything that happens happens because somebody wants it to. It’s not like the old days.” She looked wistful for a second and Simon had a vision of her cheering on the lions in the Coliseum.

She snapped out of it. “Anyway, it’s all about pushing boundaries. Just look at how much more you can take now than you could the first time.” A smirk.

“If you think I’m letting somebody paddle me, you can think again.”

Lily made a reassuring gesture. “No, no, no. No paddlings for
you
. You can even stay dressed. But it will do you good to expand your horizons a bit. Really it will!” Another attempt at angel-face. (And another failure.)

“Oh, all right...”

“See? What did I tell you?”

“I have to admit that listening to you scream while you were strapped to that... thing... was very intense.”

“'Very intense.' Is that why you grabbed the strap and gave me a dozen strokes? Three times?”

He tried to look dignified. “You obviously enjoyed it.”

“Not as much as you enjoyed fucking each hole between-times, I bet. You know, they usually don’t allow that kind of thing on the main floor. Good thing the bouncers were so distracted.”

Simon didn’t bother to answer this. There was no way it would go favorably for him.

New Orleans...

Lily laughed at voodoo (“Silly little people calling silly little spirits.”) but
loved
Mardi Gras. Men tossed her beads in a constant rain before she even
did
anything. When she tossed them to other girls, they didn’t just flash her, they started throwing clothes. Simon put a stop to it, at least to that part. No policeman would interfere with anything sexual when Lily was on the street, but if they wandered off they’d be arrested.

“Spoilsport.”

In the strip bars she watched quietly with a smug little smile, sipping at a Hurricane that never seemed to run dry. She provided a running commentary of what the dancers were doing and thinking that had Simon falling off his barstool with barely-suppressed laughter. And if he thought one was particularly cute, the usual tawdry strip routine was replaced with one that left the girl shaking and weak and sliding in slick puddles on the stage. (At his command, the same trick that kept her off surveillance cameras prevented any evidence from being gathered.)

He tossed a very nice tip on to the stage for those, and if they had to rinse out the bills before depositing them, it did no one any harm.

Amsterdam...

He had always enjoyed a little time in the coffee shops the times he’d been to the Netherlands, but he was afraid to try them now. Lily was dangerous enough when he was sober. Clouding his mind with hashish or even just pot might get him to the point where he’d have some kind of brain failure.

Oh, but it was fun to walk the red-light district with her.

“Which one would you like, Simon? Her? How about her?” They walked past a window and suddenly the girl who’d been behind it was standing next to him whispering obscenities in his ear in half a dozen languages. Or if one looked bored, she just smiled sweetly at them and they went red and started making gestures to the passers-by that promised unspeakable delights for a handful of Euros.

When he finally picked one, guaranteed safe by Lily’s infallible inspection, the succubus walked around the corner and Simon made an arrangement. (Lily had already smiled at her. It wasn’t a long negotiation.) He mentioned that he’d already found a girl who looked
just
like her. She was waiting in his hotel room. Was Sterre up for a little three-way action?

Sterre was.

The next morning she was sure it must have been a dream. Or maybe he’d slipped her something. (Though he’d left her twice the agreed price.) Surely she couldn’t have spent all night making love to what looked like a mirror, when she wasn’t pleasuring him on one side and watching herself do the exact same thing on the other.

And so the year passed...

Sunlight was just beginning to stream in through the windows on a bright Prague morning as summer slipped into fall. Simon looked down and enjoyed, as always, the sight of Lily’s smiling face with his come all over it. She gave him a teasing wink and then, also as always, carefully used her fingers to slip every last drop into her mouth.

“
Mmmmm,
” she said. “That never gets old.”

“I guess you’d know,” he said a little breathlessly. “But even for you that was spectacular. That’s a Hell of a way to wake up.”

She gave the tip of his cock a little nip,
just
hard enough to sting, and he jumped. “That’s what puns will get you.” She laughed, but then looked uncharacteristically sober. “Unless you take a nap today, that’s the last time you’ll get woken up like that. I thought I’d make it a good one.”

“Really? Why?” He knew why. But he could never resist teasing her.

“It’s time, master. Tonight your soul is forfeit, unless you give me another.” She looked wistful for a moment. “You know, I’ve kind of gotten to like you. Other than the fact that you haven’t let me corrupt a
single
other soul, I’ve never had so much fun. I won’t say I really feel
bad
about it, because I can’t. But to tell the truth...” She giggled at herself for saying that. “...if I could figure out some way to give you an extension, I almost think I would.”

He smiled at her. “For a succubus, I think that counts as a declaration of love. But don’t count me out just yet. Who knows? Something might turn up.”

She looked at him curiously. “You modern types
are
good at thinking crooked. It makes Him very proud, by the way. But the deal is simple. Your soul, or a soul which is yours to give. And if you use love or magic to make someone else give up their soul, the theft will damn you as well. Two for the price of one. I used to
love
that. Now it just makes me... I don’t know. Maybe this is regret.”

“I appreciate it, but no need to look so serious. One of the things I like best about you is that you’re always ready to find the humor in things.”

“You didn’t think it was funny when we went to the Louvre and I was laughing at all the Dor
é paintings.”

“Actually, I did, but it wasn’t appropriate.” He adopted a ridiculous French accent. “
Zerious arteests vere trying to woork.
”

She slid up his body slowly, her happy smile returning, with a more wicked edge. “I’ll show
you
artistry.” She began kissing and licking at him, still working towards his face. When she reached it she gave him a kiss that started to undo what the blowjob had done. His hands began to roam over her naked body.

No morning breath for succubi
, he thought randomly.
Not a thing one thinks about, but it’s a nice feature.

Then thought became impossible as she slipped one leg over him and slid his rapidly hardening cock into her tight little pussy. She let out that little
oooooh
of satisfaction that she always made when she felt something inside her. Then she started to flex.

Unlike a mortal woman, Lily could put her pussy on automatic. She pushed herself up languorously and drew her knees forward, letting his cock slip slowly all the way into her. The whole time she methodically squeezed along the
length
of her cunt, the feeling like a tight mouth moving up and down his shaft. He swelled inside her and started to writhe on the bed.

“Oh... fuck... that’s
amazing...
” he gasped. “Where... the fuck... has
that
been?” He was trying to pump up into her but the waves of pleasure going through him made it hard to hit the rhythm.

She gave him one of her cat-with-cream looks. “A girl has to save
something
for the big finish. You like that, master?” As she said ‘master’ she gave an extra squeeze and he sucked air through his teeth. He was already fighting not to come. Lily ran her hands over Simon’s chest, then down his belly, making him twitch uncontrollably. This produced a scary-sexy laugh and he felt his cock getting painfully hard.

“You just lie there. You paid for a year of service. Let me...
serve
.” She lightened up on the squeezing and let her hips grow still. “Still plenty of time. Enjoy the show.”

Lily was good as her word. She instinctively kept him right on the edge but eased up every time he got close. In the meantime, she did almost every wicked, dirty thing he’d ever wished or wondered.

Her hands, running over him, them up her perfect belly and playing with her breasts. Tugging and pulling at the dark nipples, throwing her head back in pain and ecstasy as she squeezed, moaning like a lioness in heat. Succubus milk dripped from them and she smeared it over his face. His tongue found notes of piercing sweetness, then spice, rich and dark.

One hand flat against her stomach, moving down to caress her clit. The other around her back, so limber, so wanton, and a finger into her ass. Then another. Caressing him through her body as she came and came, screaming, saliva running down her chin and eyes rolled up into her head.

Collapsing onto him, growling and panting, sweat and drool and her juices covering half his body. Her tongue, sliding over his skin, licking, caressing, the texture changing. She slipped down and sucked her fluids from his shaft, growling in the back of her throat. The vibrations were indescribable. Delicate fingers caressed his balls, nails sliding lightly over the tight skin.

Then lower, her hands milking his wet cock as she slipped that impossible tongue into his ass. He was too far gone to do anything but moan and loosen his thighs. It wormed its way into him, hot and wet and pulsing. He screamed and she froze.

Simon lay there, quivering. His body was taut as a bowstring, fingers grasping the sheets so tight it would have hurt if he could feel anything but her hands and her mouth and her tongue. After endless seconds she tightened her grip and her tongue 
pressed
.

This time, he couldn’t scream. He could barely breathe. The orgasm rolled through his whole body and come shot out of his cock. Her tongue massaged him and it kept boiling out of him, after the first spurt just flowing from his body like lava.