Page 63 of I Accidentally Summoned a Demon Boyfriend

“Ah, you’re still awake?” She walked into view. “I thought you’d be down and out by now, but you really are a strong one, aren’t you?”

I said nothing as she sat in the chair provided by another demon, a male with dark orange flesh and muscles fit for show. She petted his arm as she sat, and I swear, he blushed.

Olian wore a sheer red gown that had so little fabric, it barely counted as clothing. Her breast and hips threatened to rip right through it when she sat, but the split in the front saved it from disaster.

“Well, I’m glad you’re awake, Rayna,” Olian tossed the braids that hung from half her head over her shoulder. “I wanted to have a little fun with you before I end your pathetic life. I thought about keeping you alive, using your power for my gain, but he will come for you. The spell hides your location, but Metice is smart enough to figure out where you are.”

I stared at her, not a word spoken. She was playing a game, and I wouldn’t take part in it, though it annoyed me to look at her and find she was quickly healing from what happened. Her singed hair on the left side of her head had grown out, now braided down into a half mohawk. The holes in her chest were gone, just a few faint scars where they once were, but she looked weak, and her green skin looked less like vibrant treetops and more like one of those sickly zombie corpses in old horror movies. She wasn’t fully recovered, but it wouldn’t be long until she was.

“Oh, you’re so annoying.” She slapped the arm of the chair when she realized I wouldn’t cry and plead for my life. That was clearly what she wanted. “I tried to be nice about it, but then your friend had to go and shoot me. You should be glad I’m not going to make her pay for that. Fine. How about we demons give you a little show before you go?”

Olian parted her legs, and I saw her big green pussy head on. I looked away from the pocket with the full carpet, opting to stare at the dog’s ass instead.

“You will look at me.” She snapped her fingers, and her orange demon helper opened the bars that separated me from them.

I didn’t have the energy to fight him when he grabbed my head, turning me to look at her. I closed my eyes, but he pried them open and hissed in my ear, the sharp, snake-like sound a threat to keep them open.

In front of me, Olian lowered her fingers to what looked like a normal pussy, lips, clit, hole, the usual… but as she rubbed her clit, normal went out the damn window. Her lips parted, and three tentacles matching the ones that sprouted from her back before reached out of her pussy. I flinched, moving back, but the orange demon pushed me forward.

Olian moaned as her tentacles, green and moving like vines, reached out to me. I squirmed, trying to avoid those nasty things, but I couldn’t. The wet pussy arm slid across my face and lips, and there was no holding it back: I vomited right into the bitch’s pussy! I gagged as I stared at the chunks dripping from her inner thigh.

Olian screamed. She said no words, just opened her mouth and emitted a screech before she hopped up from the seat and smacked me so hard, I lost sight for longer than was probably safe. When my vision cleared again, the orange demon finished tying me to the wall. He used what felt like a metal clamp, locking my head in place so I couldn’t turn away from the show in front of me.

Then, he followed Olian out of the room.

“I need to clean myself. Now! Make sure they have everything perfect!” she screamed as the door slammed shut behind her.

Though I could feel myself dying, I still found humor in what had just happened. Yes, it was gross as fuck, and if I survived, I would have nightmares about it, but in that moment, losing blood and going numb to the stabbing pain of broken bones, I chuckled then coughed, attracting the attention of the dogs, who seemed completely unphased by the impending orgy.

This was why the big orange goof tied me up, so I could see the group of demons who were licking, touching, and doing so many more graphic things than I could ever have come up with in my head. Some had wings, others had additional arms. One impressive demon had two dicks and fucked two others at the same time. I guess having dual tools made up for the ugly face.

Their moans increased, and so did the smell of their sex. It wasn’t like human sex; it had a dirty, metallic layer to it. I was grateful that my sense of smell was failing me too. How long would it be until I lost everything? How long would it be until there was nothing left of me? Olian said Metice would come, but Keri was right. She’d done something to block him from being able to sense me. How long until he tracked me down? Would I even survive?

I tried to do the math, the time on Earth to the time in the Bane. A few hours there was a day in my world. Was Keri okay? Did she survive the crash? What about all those people, those innocent lives caught in the tidal wave of my insanity? It was a selfish thing to think, but I found a moment of peace in knowing that Keri knew the truth. She knew I wasn’t insane. Even if I never saw her again, she could stop worrying that her best friend was a nutcase. Yes, being dragged to hell and murdered by demons was much better than being labeled psychotic.

There it was. The blurred edges of my vision closed in. I could hardly see the fuck fest in front of me, could barely hear the grotesque sounds of their moaning. Just a little while longer, and I would be gone. Instead of trying to decipher the different body parts revealed in front of me, I thought of Metice. His face, his voice, his touch. I called to those gentler moments we’d shared, in his home and in mine. I let the memory of him comfort me. Funny, because I was still pissed at him, but in the final moments of my life, being angry seemed far less important than thinking of the good.

He was the good I could reach with my mind—everything else, things further back, my mother’s laugh, my cousin’s jokes, my father’s days of old, they all seemed so far out of reach. But Metice was there. Fresh, strong, comfortable.

The final sounds of my heartbeat thumped in my ears as the icy chill in my limbs reached for my core. I held on to him. It was all I could do to keep my fading mind busy with thoughts of him to fend off the fear of what would follow.

In those moments, those spaces between my slowing heartbeats, something changed.

The faded images shifted from soft, seductive movements with moments of aggressive thrusting to chaotic energy. I tried to clear my thoughts to gather what happened, but I couldn’t. There were muffled screams battling for my attention, and something hit my face—a rock, maybe, then more. Like rubble. Then, there were splashes of something wet across my skin, the sense so dull, I barely registered it.

Something heavy and wet fell next to me as the muffled sounds of fear continued.

Then, it appeared. Towering above my limp body was a massive form that reached out to me.

Why was it here? Was this death? Is that what happened when your life ended? Those tales of the Grim Reaper must have been true. It didn’t even dawn on me to fight for my life. I accepted this enormous being lifting me from the ground and carrying me away.

The heat of what I thought was the sun, a brief sigh of relief, touched my face before I died.

16

The choice is not yours

Metice

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