And now for the rest of the story of 'Don't Go There' …. *head desk* Word count: 3014 is not a flash fiction. Unedited if there's anything that needs editing. I'm tired and it's 7:03am. Meep wrote:
Bumping right into the demon lecturer who was close behind him.
The demon grinned as Laurel turned determinedly away, refusing to make eye contact. It was a nice mouth, wide with an enticing curve to the full lips. Laurel would not look higher.
'That's okay' the demon's voice followed him, rumbling through his very veins, heating him from within.
'Us demons love a good chase' the last word was purred promise.It was very late the next day when Yborel tracked his little Fae back to his student dorm room. Only student not in attendance at the lecture, Bill had been most willing to divulge his friend Laurel’s whereabouts. Bill had a future at the Liaison Office in his sites and he just might make it if Yborel had his way, literally. No surprise that the door was locked but Yborel was prepared. He patted his pockets. Yep; mirror, key ring, lube; he reached over to make sure the pizza box in the magic that was ‘between space’ was still warm. Okay. Step one.
Step 1 – knock.
He was supposed wait before moving onto step two. Slowly he counted quietly to himself, when he reached 2000 it was time to move to step two.
Step 2 – sliding the mirror under the door, because dormitory’s the world over had leeway for the addition of interior carpeting, he viewed the underside of the door closure even if the lights were off. Simple flip of the latch lock was a piece of cake to maneuver to unlock the door.
Step 3 – locate his little love and win him over. How difficult could that be, since Bill had mentioned that Laurel wouldn’t even touch Bill’s Demonology text books and refused to stay in the Commons Room if Bill started reading aloud from any of them. Laurel didn’t know the rules of demon dating and mating other than what his Fae extended family might have told him. Fae usually got everything wrong about demons, at least that was what Yborel’s text books had said, again literally as Yborel had dyslexia. He and others like him had sure been happy when someone had discovered that red tinted clear overlay on written work cleared all that up for many individuals. Yborel had proceeded to buy a pair of red tinted lens glasses. It added to his appeal he thought. Locating Laurel might have been easy to find, another benefit of the magic red sighted glasses. Fae dripped a sprinkling of fairy dust that fluoresced under red tint. Laurel’s was fainter than a full blooded Fae, much fainter. a mere occasional sparkle every ten steps. The hallway had been easy. Unfortunately Laurel had done a lot of walking in his dorm room. The floor was lit up with dust which moved and undulated while he watched.
“Shit,” he cursed louder that he should have under his breath, “Zombie dust bunnies.”
“How could a Fae live like this?” Yborel murmured, “I thought they were supposed to be cleaning freaks.”
From the closet a muffled voice answered, “I’m not a Brownie, okay. Go away, you’ll rile them up and I’ll never make to the bed without being bitten tonight.” There was a pause, “In fact, on your way out turn on the overhead light and I’ll love you to pieces.”
Okay Step 3A- win his confidence. Act like a team which is the purpose of finding a mate because it’s the parents against the children until they’re old enough to sleep completely through the night and not impede a younger sibling being conceived.
Turning on the light required use of his flashlight to find it and, “yes that is a flashlight that I have in my pocket,” Yborel chanted quietly. A giggle came from the closet and the red flickers moving on the floor ran for dark places as the room’s light switch was flipped on. There was a small shriek from the closet, closets being dark places.
“No! No, get off!” Thuds resounded from the closet as largish things hit other things.
There was a light switch near the bi-fold mirrored closet door. “I need to get a mirrored door like that, maybe even have all the walls mirrored too,” he said to himself as he turned on the switch and lit up the closet inside.
“Better?” Yborel asked the closed closet door. “In fact, wouldn’t you like to come out of that closet? The dust bites.”
An offended, “I KNOW that. Been there, done that and I may sleep with the lights on forever after this.”
Yborel grinned, “I can get you a t-shirt with that on it, with a large lit light bulb in the background and little dust bunnies with sunglasses barely masking their red pin points of eyes lying around at the bottom of the bulb.”
From the closet, “ummmm, maybe. Have to see it first. Can I come out now and you promise not to jump me?”
“I promise not to jump you in this room at this time but you have to sit with me and talk and eat a pizza that by now should be cool enough not to burn fingers while we eat it,” Yborel said. “By the way you missed my lecture where the instructor would have told you my name is Bor.”
“Hello Bor,” came dutifully sarcastic from the closet. “Do you keep your promises, ‘cause if not, it’s dangerous to lie or break a promise to a Fae.” More forcefully, “I have relatives.” There was a short pause, “And they don’t like demons to begin with and I could never take you home with me,” the last part came out in a rush.
“I think I understand,” Bor answered. “You’re not Brownie. You’ve what kind of Fae to have dust bunnies in your living space though?”
A heavy sigh, “Shroom. Parents met at a rock concert in the 60s.”
“Ah. But why are there dust bun…” Bor stopped as pieces fell into place, “You’re not a dust user are you? That drug isn’t good for anyone no matter what people say and being a Fairy doesn’t excuse the captivity and abuse of Pixies.”
The closet door was pushed open and it was worse than Bor thought it would be. Surely ever piece of clothing Laurel must own was layered upon his body. His arms stuck straight out to the sides so that Bor didn’t know how he’d gotten that last layer of clothing buttoned and he waddled out of the closet with a mutinous pout on his lips.
“I do not have a Pixy Dust addiction and have never tried Pixy Dust.” Laurel gathered steam, “I ordered plunnies online to help with a writing assignment and my feet are itching.”
Yes, his cute Fairy Mate had red blotchy bare feet, getting his runaway mouth to stop blurting out his thoughts. “I can see that. At least the rest of your body was kept safe by all your clothes,” Bor said.
“I got Zombie Dust Bunnies instead and they’ve been breeding away while I tried to get my ten page report done without any help. Last time I take my cousin Haw’s advice. He’s the one that gave me the site address for the mail order.” Laurel drew breath, “Would you please help me get all these clothes off? I need my Benadryl and a cold water soak in Epsom salts because it turns out I’m allergic to dust bunnies and Zombie ones are even worse.”
Bor grinned, “It’ll be like Christmas.” He picked up his Laurel placing him on the desk chair for easy access to clothing removal. “If I promise to buy you a whole new wardrobe can I rip them off like wrapping paper?”
Laurel looked down and Bor thought maybe he should have just done and not asked. Anyone who had to think about it that long, didn’t want their clothing ripped off. “I can be careful,” he said and started unbuttoning.
Laurel’s eyes came up, “I was just trying to remember what order I put the clothes on. The inner ones I’d like to keep nice but the outer layers are old and I thought they’d rip from being put on which is why they’re on the outside.”
“Okay. I can work with that. When you see something you want to keep let me know fast.” Bor stripped the buttons off, popping the whole line of them free to scatter around the floor, paused for Laurel to determine the fate of the next layer and did the same to that layer’s buttons before stepping to the back of the chair to put out a claw and shred the fabric from neck to wrists. Those layers went on the floor with the buttons. Layers seemed to dissolve under Bor’s efforts but he still allowed time for Laurel to pass judgment before ripping them. That was just the top half of Laurel, who was squirming now.
“Get them off. Get them off. Get them off.” Laurel’s finger’s were pulling the front of his shirts now; why too many button down shirts for any one person to have was Bor’s thought, scattering buttons as well as Bor had at the beginning. The t-shirts went better, faster. It was simply gather up three or four shirt hems and dragging them upward over Laurel’s head and they had the benefit of being short sleeved. Finally Bor had Laurel naked from the waist up. The blotches were a rash here almost as bad as Laurel’s feet but the Zombie dust bunnies couldn’t have reached here.
“Maybe I should get that Benadryl for you,” Bor suggested. “One or two pills?” and watched as Laurel started hunting through his pants pockets. It looked like only one layer, maybe three for there was some bulk there, left to go on the bottom half of Laurel.
“Two, please,” was answered followed by a “Shit! I can’t find it!”
“Find what,” Bor asked from inside the ensuite bathroom.
“The stupid, fucking key to the chastity belt,” met Bor loudly as he came back with two bright pink pills and a glass of water. There was the sound of water running into the tub.
“Here, take these. I’ve started the tub and I’ve got a ring of belt keys. One of them should work.”
Pushing the fabric of his jeans down, Laurel gestured, “yeah? This is no normal chastity belt, it’s a Fae chastity belt,” and he itched the newly revealed skin. “I can’t believe that I lost the key. It was in my pocket when I went into the closet. I made sure.”
They both looked at the closet. Bor held up the key ring, “Liaison Office keeps these on hand for these types of emergencies,” and he jiggled them. “You know if you’d put the belt on inside your underwear instead of outside…”
“It would have chafed and I had the fucking key!” He took the edge of the chastity belt by an edge and jiggled it, imitating Bor. “Fae Chastity Belt!” Laurel scratched another area leaving red lines to the right of his naval.
“The salts won’t do the lock mechanism any good you know. Even if we find the correct key to open the lock, it may not work after a dunk in the tub.” Bor looked at Laurel and then started rolling up his sleeves. “How about we try my key ring and if that doesn’t work then you sponge bathe the parts not immediately under the belt while I try searching the closet.”
Laurel hopped off the chair and started for the bathroom, “How about you try your keys while I sponge bath the parts of my body not where the chastity belt is and if I feel better we try any you haven’t away from the water. I think the tub is going to overflow otherwise.”
Bor nodded and picked up Laurel, moving him faster than Laurel could waddle. “They sure make those things cumbersome. How could you run with that thing on? You could seriously injure yourself if you tripped and fell wearing that thing and it’s loose enough that I could still get my cock into you while you wore it.” He carefully set Laurel to stand inside the tub, tucking a wash cloth into the waist of the device and handing Laurel a second wash cloth. “Your people need to think about the safety of those that those things are meant to protect.” He gestured for Laurel to turn around because of course the people who made this horrible thing would put the lock at the back about mid ass crack high. “Perverts,” he hissed, adjusting himself. “Okay, here goes key #1.”
They got to key #142 before Laurel judged that he should get out of the tub. Any further sponge bathing would mess up the lock. The only itching places left were enclosed under the belt. Bor looked at Laurel and Laurel looked at Bor, the irony was not lost on them. Of course it would be there that was the one place for an itch to be … under a Chastity Belt.
“I think we should try this on the bed,” Bor said. “You can lay down over my lap while I try the rest of the keys.”
Giving a yawn Laurel draped himself over a cross-legged Bor’s lap and after a while fell asleep to the sound of metal scratching over metal and soft said curses when it seemed like one would work and then didn’t. His dreams took on a feeling of security and soft stroking through his hair, down his back, over his shoulders. It was like that when Laurel woke suddenly as the door opened and in walked two Fae carrying swords. “Hi Uncle. Not so Hi, stupid Haw-thorn.” Lying still across Bor’s lap with his chastity belt clad ass still in the air, he pointed a finger at his cousin, “YOU gave me the website of a place that sells Homework aiding Plunnies but sends out Zombie Dust Bunnies instead. I DON’T like you right now AND you gave me a chastity belt that’s too fucking big so I could have been molested anyway, that I can’t get off or find the key for while having an allergy attack from those same Zombie Dust Bunnies.”
The sword tips dropped and Hawthorn’s father looked over at his smirking son. “This is a joke to you?” was said with careful calm.
Bor kept right on stroking Laurel’s back and hair, watching this.
“Hey, it’s his fault he lost the key. I didn’t do that,” Hawthorn protested unable to suppress a chortle from the words.
Hawthorn’s father pinched the bridge of his nose, “Of course, it’s a Fairy Chastity Belt. It’s meant to do that if the belt stays on and if clothing is ripped off. There’s only one way to reclaim the key and belt intact now.” He turned his eyes to the pair on the bed, “Have you tried inducing orgasm?” He waved his hand dismissively, “of course not or you’d have found out that after the first 240 minutes an orgasm originating from another person’s attentions brings back the key. You see the belt is also called a Courting Belt.” He sighed, “It sends out an alert when the key disappears, so help can arrive and assess the situation. Your mother is not going to be pleased but it would appear that your … demon … might, by our laws, be worthy of being mated to you if he is still able to bring you to completion after all this time of possible abuse.”
“Harsh,” Bor said judgmentally. “What happens to those who survived abuse and couldn’t orgasm after that time? Did you people think about that?!”
Hawthorn raised his sword point and grinned, “That’s easy. We kill you and/or we kill him. Tsk, problem solved.”
Laurel found himself up at the head of the bed with Bor’s body blocking his sight of his relatives and Bor’s words, “Not going to happen. I’m not going to make it easy for you but if I have to die for him then I will.”
“Now where’s the fun in that,” Hawthorn crooned and then Laurel heard a gelp and the sounds of swords dropping onto the floor.
“A little late,” Bor’s voice said, “I thought you guys weren’t going to make it here in time.”
“Well we did, so stop,” another voice answered him, “and I think thank you.”
“Where’s your mate Bor, ah I see,” as Bor moved to the side and Laurel got a look at their rescuers. “Beautiful and he comes with pretty packaging too. Keys didn’t work?”
“No. We were about to try another method before these two decided to try killing one of us if not both. Hard to bring someone to orgasm if they’re told to come or die,” Bor explained.
“Well if that doesn’t work, I’ve got another possible method we can try and then there’s always the tried and true use of the blood of the giver of the belt,” the other demon shrugged, “Poetic.”
Bor turned to Laurel, “So how do you want to do this? Trust your Uncle’s method or one of Kevim’s?”
Laurel looked at his dangling relatives and turned back to Bor. “Let’s go into the bathroom and try my Uncle’s method, then if that’s not successful we try the first one that your friend Kevim suggested. I’d rather not have any members of my family killed, even if one of them deserves it. Would make it a lot easier at holidays though.”
Thankfully completion brought release Laurel found happily. Kevim’s method included turning him into a familiar cat and confusing the chastity belt’s spell. Later still that night in bed after a wedding night better than he thought he’d ever have, since Hawthorn had been being pushed at him as a consort from his childhood, Laurel mentioned that Kevim’s method probably wouldn’t have worked well either. Laurel was allergic to cats.
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