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A Demon on Maple Street - Part 1

Wanting more from the mundane world she summoned a demon. Would her cat approve?

Jill had tried this a few times before, always losing her nerve out of fright. But the first time she tried to conjure the demon, she was seized by disbelief and terror as the void appeared. It shimmered like vellum paper floating in the air. She peed on herself, mid incantation, breaking the spell.

The second time, the demon actually appeared and her mind raced like sand in a wind storm. She bit her lip and held the terror inside. He was half man, half god. His dark eyes bore into her soul from across the room, she saw strong shoulders and bare chest, and could not easily fracture his gaze. She was being pulled in, riveted by an invisible flux that drug her anima closer. She was transfixed, her mind swam in the pool of warm forgetfulness for what could have been eons. But underneath something began to emerge, a small nagging rapping sound. It squirmed in the same pool as her attention and began knocking louder and louder to make itself heard. Till finally the vigilant insight, the last nagging vestige of sanity emerged like a shark from her subconscious, quickly turning Jill from placid to panic. Her right foot punched the nearest artifact sending it across the room to interrupt the alignment. The spell was broken.

Jill caught her breath and quickly gathered the artifacts, putting them back in the cupboard. Swiftly vacuuming up the salt circle, then hiding the ancient book back under the bed. Now off to the kitchen to sit and allow time for sanity to rationalize.


She was different than a lot of women, where most had put away the foolish thoughts of their childhood imagination, hers persisted. She had married a man who after eleven years of marriage had turned into the living dead. Everything for him was a procedure, a routine. He was not a bad man, but he'd found his comfortable route in life and followed it blindly. Breakfast at six, work at eight, home at four to bed at nine. Black coffee, white sheets, gray days. She wanted more. She wanted laughter, she wanted danger. She wanted something forbidden to leave her gasping for breath, then alternately laughing till tears gushed from her eyes. She longed to feel a strange exotic cock slapping against her clit, and an irregular heartbeat that tuned hers to his. She longed for white coffee, black sheets and colorful days. But it would have to be on her terms.


A week later she caught herself staring at the artifacts, they sat like chachkies along the shelf of the cupboard. They called to her, they asked to be put back on the living room floor in a certain spatial pattern. Next to those sat an otherwise innocent box of Morton salt. Next to that, a bottle of bordeaux.


After the second glass of wine, loneliness and insane curiosity had gotten the better of her. She was ready, and though she knew she was toying with things that you shouldn't, she sensed the strange demon, almost summoned once, would not harm her. After placing the artifacts back into their corner locations, she plopped open the ancient book and began to incantate. She recalled his bold face, his strong chin, the way his smokey dark hair basked on his forehead like soft serpents. The wine was clearly painting a better picture of the situation.


Summoning a demon was no accident, it wasn't something you did because the mood struck you. Once upon a time, she was earning a major in religious studies then turned relic hunter while on an archaeology field trip at a necropolis in Luxor. The idea that something could be thrown away yesterday and then stepped on today was no big deal. The idea that something could be thrown away 5000 years ago then stepped on today was a very big deal. Alas, she found the amulet of Cernunnos, literally stepping on it by accident after another student had been ardently cleaning a crevice for days with a toothbrush and had just given up moments before. But exactly what was it? She wasn't sure, a small trinket, a necklace, a dusty pendant on a chain featuring a Celtic moon god? He looked friendly, and she was fascinated. Looking around quickly then pocketing the artifact, she caught the first plane back to the Pacific Northwest, twenty one years ago.


The incantation continued from her lips, and soon the noiseless vellum paper void with wiggly vaporous fringe, formed in the living room. A moment later Lord Merridia stepped forth into the corner of the room, by the cat tree. She gasped and reached down to scatter the artifacts again, but this time her hand stopped her. Stopped by her own will, stopped by the lonely nights masturbating in the bathtub over romance books and vineyard beverages. Jill was unable to speak, let alone scream and the demon slowly approached her. Was this the ancient moon god? She nervously shook but continued watching him with eyes wide. He stopped a few feet from her circle, the light caught his face and he smiled. Her mouth dropped open at his sheer handsomeness. He began to speak, and if it weren't for certain anatomical restraints, her own jaw would have continued to the carpet below.


He had a soft low voice that could easily turn to growl if need be. “So, you're not going to banish me again Jill?” His voice was of shiny gold that rolled smoothly from his tongue.


“Ah... ah....”


He smiled. “It's okay. I know you are surprised. You may take a moment to gather your senses and breath. I shall be of no harm to you.” His voice deep, slow, deliberate.


She trembled, as her eyes darted all over him. His long hair, his glinty eyes. His finely chiseled chest. Her eyes fell lower and her brain spun with uncertainty, she questioned her decision. He was incredible, he was gorgeous... but he was a demon. After a few minutes, the room began to slow down as her breathing ceded to normal repetition. His legs and thighs were draped in shadow, but she could tell from his outline that he was naked. She would have been wet immediately had she not been in shock.


“Go on my dear, drink me with your eyes.” He stood cordially outside the circle. “I am unable to enter, so I will be enjoying your living area.” He spied Mordrid the cat who was hiding inside the cubicle. “Oh and this is Mordrid, has he been a good kitty?”


The demon turned around to greet the cat as Jill's eyes fell down his back, to his tight muscular posterior and strong thighs.


“Oh my god,” she whispered as she watched his magnificent nude body.


“My name is Lord Merridia, and not only is this cat of yours an old soul but an old friend of mine as well.”




“Cats are much smarter than you mortals know, this one's real name is Cramston. To know a cat's real name is to give it speech.”


“Ah... what are you talking about?” She hesitantly said.


“The cat, the feline, this nocturnal creature that secretly knows everything about you. Question, did this being find you or did you find it?”


“I found him. He was peeing in the garden, and stayed.”


“Exactly, he found you.”


“Umm... who are you?” she asked with an uncertain sureness.


“Lord Merridia, a minor Demon, friend to the nature goddesses, son of the moon god you wear around your neck and jack of most trades, but above all, your guest at the moment.”


She could tell by the execution of his words that he was an educated being, but with all her thoughts, the millions of tiny conjectures that danced erratic in her brain desperately trying to make rationale from the clutter, her only words, “Oh my god...”


“Technically yes, I can be.” He turned back toward her and smiled. “I was hoping you would overcome your fear and let me linger for a while. The hills of Autumn are getting tedious these days.”


“The hills of Autumn?” She croaked almost inaudibly.


“Yes, it's a horribly lonely place that souls like me hang out in.”


“The... hills of Autumn?”


“Yes, its other name is 'the Damned Place.'”


She gasped. “You mean?”




“H. E. L. L?” Disbelief, forcing her to spell words out loud.


“When you spell it out like that you make it worse than it is. It's not as bad as it sounds. They have a lounge, a nice hotel with a small restaurant, a theatre. Nearby, a small cat park. However the weather is perpetually gloomy and the air always stagnant, so you can imagine how the cat park smells.”


Her silent shock was broken by an unexpected giggle when she saw Mordrid give the Lord the stink eye.


“As a matter of fact, your furry friend knows what hell is. He lives in a carpeted square. Do you call that living?”


She surprised herself and suddenly took offense at his words. “I assure you, Lord... Meriwideo...


“Merridia. Call me your lord.”


“I can safely assure you that my cat is very happy here.”


“Oh really now? He lives in a cubicle, he gets up four times a day, three times for meals and once to go outside and potty in your garden. He will continue with this routine till the end of his days. His life has turned poor and lacking. I can tell you personally, he would rather be out having insane cat copulation.” He quickly turned to the cat. “Don't you say, Cramston?”




“Oh my god! My cat is talking!” Jill gasped in shock. “What the fuck? You can talk?”


“There see? I told you.” Merridia's words poured like quick tea from a spout.


“Oh my god, what else can you say?”


“I like when I'm laying in bed with you and you meow-stur-bate.”


Jill's face fell into absolute silent red humiliation, then erupted a moment later long enough to scream at the cat about sharing personal business. Not only had a cat tattled on her very personal activity, but she had dared scream back at it, as if he was a person. Then, of course, there was the matter that she had also summoned a handsome demon that emerged from a vellum paper wiggly thing in the corner of her living room. This day was turning truly strange and her brain sent signals to her mouth that it was best to return to silence.


“I told you he was a friend, and while the cat's got your tongue let me continue about my homeland.”


Hell... she thought.


“Yes.” he continued, “I have a very nice playroom there.”


“ room...?” achieving one shade of darker red.


“Yes, full of unbelievably soft velvet furniture designed for any posture required, and further enhanced with furry surrender cuffs and liquid refreshments. My personal favorite toy is the Liberator.


“Oh... Liberator? Is this some new type of vibrator?”


“Yes, you lay back on a very plush lounge chair, I clasp the soft vibrator over your clit and it purrs. Very liberating. You'd like it.”


“That's great, but would you stop reading my mind now?”


“Perhaps if you would try speaking in the real world. Yes?”


“You...” an intelligible sentence began to emerge, “...are a very handsome... umm demon...”


He petted Cramston and spoke calmly. “It's also a curse my lady. However, may I extend an equivalent compliment to you. You are quite delicious and a delicacy, and perhaps when you really find your voice and your lips move more regularly you will allow me to put them in my mouth.” He paused, then looked pointedly deep into her eyes, “I know why you summoned me.”


“You do?” She swallowed nervously.


“Yes and I've come to fulfill your secret desires. I'm your rocket ship to another planet, another adventure if you will. I can fulfill passions so private that should they come up in casual conversation over a cup of tea, you would expire from embarrassment.”


“That must be some tea.” Finding her voice.


“Yes, tea so forbidden that even Cramston would not casually speak of them.”


“Try me...” The cubicle spoke.


“I,” he continued on, “Lord Merridia, am that forbidden tea. Drink me down in private and I will keep your savory secrets safe, until I can dole them out one by one, bringing you to a screaming climax.”


“Oh... my...” She blushed down two more shades, strangely pushing her fear to falter. “Just how do you know my... secret desires?”




“Damn cat!” she bellowed.


“I told you. Now allow me to continue.”


“Yes...” She began to smile.


“Now, where was I...?”


“Screaming climax.”


“Yes. Many times over until you are so weak and subdued that your body can no longer respond, leaving you no choice but to fall incurably asleep against my velvety hard body with my cock buried deep inside you. Do I have your attention yet?”


“You do my Lord.” She watched him, transfixed, realizing she kinda liked calling him her lord.


His muscular hands came to rest on his bare hips. “If you were to allow me inside your circle I will give wings to your clandestine wishes. Will you break the ring?”


She looked down at the encompassing salt band for a moment, then slowly returned his gaze. She realized this was her chance to leave the ordinary world behind. His eyes were hungry, mischievous, wild, her eyes were dilated, opulent. The world stopped... for an immeasurable amount of time.


Suddenly it was morning. She jerked awake on the couch and the time was 6am.


What just happened? she thought. Her eyes darted around the room. She quickly got up and paced the house, her husband was gone. She paced to the kitchen, then back to the living room. The house was empty. Back to the living room, looking around hurriedly for clues of the previous experience. The artifacts sat in the nearby cupboard but traces of salt lay in clumps like islands on the carpet.


“Shit. That was wild...” she mumbled to herself, then spotting the cat. A remembrance brought her to eye level with the feline. “Ok... ah... Cramston or whatever your name is, you were here, you saw what happened. Go ahead...”


The cat returned her gaze but said nothing.


“Don't you dare.” she prodded, “That was too real. You were here and you talked.”


The cat looked upon her again and after a long silence emitted a poot noise.


“Seriously? Cramston, Mordrid cat! Ok, I must be cracking up.”


She paced the house again and continued talking to herself. “Ok, I had some wine... probably too much wine. I fell asleep in the living room, I dreamed, I put the artifacts out and read the book. I dreamed the whole thing... No, no I didn't! I couldn't have!”


Back to the kitchen, twitchy and confused, she sat down to breathe. The cool morning air blew in through a window, cooled her lungs and pushed the unsettled thoughts to the corners of her mind. She felt like the roller coaster had just pulled into the break run, spewed air pressure, and brought the whole joy ride into the stop zone. She was exhilarated, yet remorseful of completion. Outside her house it rained, the gray clouds threw water down at Maple Street. She watched the postman outside, walking his routine beat, guided by pattern. Soon she would have her mail, shortly thereafter she would make a simple lunch. The clock would spin and the procedure of life would follow. Her attention turned to the kitchen walls, wandered around, then slid down the oven exhaust to an unusual small box sitting on the stove.


“What? Where did this come from?”


Reaching for it with eyes wide open, she read the small words on the package aloud.


“Lord Merridia's Naughty Night Tea.” She smiled to herself and tucked the box away.


To be continued?


This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright Northern Gentleman 2017

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