FSE

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Chapter 1

Mark Bryson sighed as he hung up his graduation robe. After four years he had graduated college. Bachelor’s degree in hand, Mark had no idea what he was going to do. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to continue on to his masters or start a career. He looked around his tiny college apartment. It was just a bedroom, really as Mark had shared the other facilities with his housemates.

Over the previous summers he had worked while living out of his parent’s house but things had gotten worse back home. That was evidenced by the fact Mark’s parents hadn’t attended his graduation ceremony. At the start of his third year his parents got divorced. Mark was honestly surprised it hadn’t happened sooner. His mom moved out, having always hated the area they lived in. His father moved his girlfriend in soon after. Mark didn’t care about his dad’s love life, but Nicki wasn’t too happy with Mark spending last summer in his old bedroom. And she was pressuring his dad to not let him return to his childhood home.

One of his housemates had left behind a six pack of beer, he joked that it was a graduation gift. Mark decided he would order a pizza to go with it and call it a night. As Mark pulled out his phone it started to ring. Surprised by the timing, Mark looked down at his screen to see ‘unknown caller’. Apparently his parents couldn’t even bother to call. Mark answered, not having anything better to do.

“Hello? Who’s this?”

“Is this Mark Bryson?” a male voice asked over the phone.”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“Excellent. Mr. Bryson, my name is Jared Stafford, I’m an attorney representing the estate of Albert Carver.”

“Albert Carver? Who’s that?”

“He is, apologies, was your great uncle on your mother’s side; your grandmother’s younger brother.”

I don’t remember any ‘Uncle Albert’ at any family function on mom’s side.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Al and I were long time friends, all the way back to our college years. Oh, congratulations on your own graduation.”

“Thanks,” Mark smiled slightly at the recognition.

“I don’t know all the details, but Al had a huge falling out with his family long before you were born, your mother would have only been a small child at the time.”

“Ah, that would explain it, but still, shouldn’t you be contacting my mom or one of my aunts before me?”

“Your great uncle never married nor had any children of his own. He wanted to leave his estate, after a few bequeathments, to a surviving male relative. That would be you, Mr. Bryson.”

“What? really?”

“I’ve spent some time tracking you down for Al. As you are no doubt aware, your maternal grandparents only had daughters, and your only cousin on that side is also a woman.”

“I guess, yeah that’s true. So my estranged great uncle really left me something?”

“Yes, other than some donations to charity, and his ‘69 Mustang he left for me. Not that I’ll have that many years left to enjoy it, but it was a thoughtful gesture. I would like to go over everything with you in person, and there are a few forms you will need to sign.”

Mark shrugged. “I don’t have anything else to do. What’s a good time for you?”

***

Jared Stafford’s office looked exactly like what Mark expected a lawyer’s office to look like. Bookshelves full of law books lined the walls, several tasteful pieces of art were displayed, and a huge old oak desk. It even had one of those green glass banker’s lights on the desk. Mr. Stafford stood up from behind his desk as Mark was led into the room by a secretary.

“Mr. Bryson, welcome, I’m glad you were able to make it down.” He offered his hand.

Mark shook the old lawyer’s hand. Mr. Bryson was dressed in a gray suit and dark blue tie. His hair was almost completely white at this point. A pair of thick glasses rested on his nose.

“It’s no problem, really, and you can just call me Mark.”

“Of course, Mark, please take a seat.” Once they were both seated Mr. Stafford pulled out a thick folder from a drawer in his desk. “As I explained on the phone, Al left you the majority of his estate. A fair portion of his liquid assets did go to his care over the last decade of his life, but the remainder of his accounts after bequeathments comes to just shy of two hundred fifty thousand.” The lawyer opened the folder and pointed to a line item with a pen.

“Nothing to sneeze at, hell I’d be ecstatic if that was my yearly salary.”

Mr. Stafford chuckled. “Very true. The bulk of the estate is in your great uncle's home. It is a fairly large home on a good sized plot."He turned the page to a photo of the front of the home and the current assessed value. “The home and everything in it is yours.”

“Really?”

“Yes, including the Cadillac in the garage. Al’s health started to take a turn just after he purchased it, I’m afraid.” He chuckled sadly, “I told him to just get a Honda, but he was a stubborn man when it came to cars.”

“If it has less miles than my old junker I’ll gladly drive it.” Mark smiled as he took a closer look at the home. It was old, just over a century since it was built. He noticed that from the picture it wasn’t in the best of condition either.

Mr. Stafford continued as Mark looked over the documents. “The desire to drive around in a Cadillac I can understand, but I could never figure out why Al purchased that house. It was just him living there, he didn’t even have any pets. He had the occasional house guest, but there are five bedrooms in that house.

“Yeah, it does seem a little big for a bachelor pad.” Mark looked up, “Be honest with me, what’s the condition of the house?”

“Al took good care of it, he even did some extensive renovations over thirty-five years ago, replacing the ancient wiring at that point and putting in a central air system. Unfortunately, once his health started to turn, Al wasn't able to keep up with the house. Along with a heavy coating of dust on everything, you’ll find stained carpet, walls in need of paint, etc. I did have the home inspected and it is safe to inhabit, at least.” Mr. Stafford turned to a report from a home inspector.

“So, a bit of a fixer-upper then?” Mark said as he looked over the information. “Still, it looks like it’s in a pretty nice neighborhood.”

“Yes, the town has grown a lot in the past twenty years. People are continuing to move into the town proper and the surrounding areas. A fair amount of the appraisal is based just on the size of the plot and its location.”

Mark leaned back and thought for a moment. “Is it possible we can go and look at the house?”

“Of course, I have the keys right here. Would you like me to drive or follow me?”

***

Mark looked around the kitchen and shook his head. It looked like it was right out of an 80’s sitcom. Then again, given the time frame of the renovations it would have been the style of the time. The house was sound, though it needed a new roof. It was dusty, and the furnishings were out of date. It certainly could do with new paint and floors throughout the home, but there was a lot of potential in the large house. Mark had spent time working with a contracting company while in high school during the summers, so he knew his way around tools and paint. The rest of his inheritance was more than he could expect to make in a year right out of college.

“So, what do you think?” Mr. Stafford asked when he saw the expression on Mark’s face.

“I think this could work out.” Mark nodded. “I don’t have anything lined up currently with a job or further schooling. Between the inheritance and savings I could take a year off, get this old place fixed up, and sell it for a pretty damn good amount, probably enough to either pay for my masters or buy a small home and invest the rest.”

“I took a year off between my undergrad and law school myself. It helped me to really decide what I wanted to do with my life.” He smiled slightly. “I think that’s a good plan, and the way things are going in a year the property will probably go up more in value as the demand continues to increase.”

“Do you think my uncle would mind that I’m planning on selling the house?”

“When we were working on the will I mentioned the possibility to him. Al said he picked this house for himself, and didn't expect a distant nephew to have the same attachment.”

“He seems like a pretty reasonable guy. Just what happened between him and mom’s family?”

“He never really spoke much about it, but it was a fairly politically charged time. I know more than one family were divided over the issues of the day.”

“I guess, I just would have liked to have met Uncle Albert before I took all his stuff, you know?”

“The fact that you feel that way would have Al smiling. Let’s head back to my office and we can get started with signing the papers.”

***

Mark sat on his bed and rubbed his back. The old mattress was definitely past its prime. He had chosen his Uncle’s old bedroom, since it was the only one with an attached bathroom. Mark had spent his first day at the house cleaning it up. The old clothes he had donated to a local thrift store and replaced them with his own small wardrobe. He had kept a few watches and pieces of jewelry that spoke to him and put the rest up on the internet to sell. The furniture he kept for now, but he was having second thoughts about the bed.

I wonder if I should spring for a new mattress or just get an airbed from BoxMart. Either way, a few more nights on this thing and I won't be able to walk right. Mark mused as he went to the bathroom to get a quick shower.

Fifteen minutes later Mark was in the kitchen eating a bowl of oatmeal. He was looking at a notepad he had found lying around and was tallying up his to do list. There was a lot to do even before he could start swinging a hammer. He finished his third cup of coffee and scanned down his list so far.

That’s enough to keep me busy for a few days at least. The guy at the consignment store said he can’t make it till Thursday, so I got time to go through all the cabinets and drawers first. Who knows if there’s anything valuable or interesting in there? As he got up to get a fourth cup of coffee, Mark looked over at the door to the basement. Ah, I totally forgot about the basement. I guess I haven’t really been down there since I first entered the house. He filled his mug and added sugar. I think it’s mostly just junk down there, I probably should take a closer look though.

The basement was dusty, cool, and had a slight odor of mildew. The lighting was a series of pull-string fixtures with bare bulbs that Mark turned on one by one. This illuminated the bare stone walls of the foundation, the exposed floor joists above his head, pipes and wires running across the joists, and neat stacks of boxes and old shelves filled with miscellaneous junk collected over the years. Along one wall a good sized workbench had been set up with a fluorescent overhead light that flickered to life, and continued to flicker for some time afterwards.

It wasn’t cluttered, his Uncle Albert was a fairly organized man by nature. However, other than the tools most of what remained was junk. Mark stood in the basement looking around at the space. It was large, not surprising given the footprint of the home above. The basement also had direct access to the outside.

Maybe I should clear the basement out first. It gives me storage and workspace for the materials I’m going to need for the renovation, and most of this stuff can just be tossed in the dumpster without a second thought. Might as well start at the bottom and work my way up.

After a trip upstairs to get his work gloves and a particle mask Mark opened the outside door and started to go through the boxes and shelves in the basement. As expected most of it was junk, broken pieces of furniture that had been brought down for repairs that never quite happened, cans of paint several decades older than Mark was, old magazines, etc. He took it out through the basement hatch and deposited them all into the large dumpster he had rented for the renovation. Mark found a few odds and ends that he placed on the workbench to save for the time being, along with the tools.

He just finished pulling several old cans of paint off a large rusty shelf. Unlike the other shelves in the basement, this one was in rough condition, one can had already fallen through a shelf that had rusted out. Mark decided to just ditch the shelving unit with the rest of the trash. As he pulled the unit away from the wall he noticed something strange. All the walls were stone, but this was brick. Mark paused and took a closer look.

What the…this isn’t a solid wall, there’s a door here somebody bricked up. Why the hell would somebody do that? Mark pulled the shelf away fully from the wall to get a better look. I think this is under the sun room, it juts out from the rest of the house. I can understand making a room there, but why brick it off? Did Albert do this or one of the previous owners?

Mark continued to think about it as he hulled the old shelf up into the dumpster and then took a break for some lunch. As he ate Mark remembered a conversation he had had with Mr. Harrison, the contractor he had worked with back in high school. They were finishing a basement in an old ranch home and Mr. Harrison had told him to be on the lookout for a fallout shelter as they prepared the walls. He was confused and the contractor explained that facet of the Cold War to Mark.

This house was around back then, Uncle Albert bought the home in ‘71 I think. Maybe a shelter was built there, or even below that section of the basement. Albert might have just bricked it off to not worry about, he wasn’t hurting for storage space as it was. It’s a possibility. Still, I can’t just leave a section of the home closed off. There could be anything from water leaking in, to termites chewing up the joists. I need to inspect it and know for sure. And if there is a fallout shelter, maybe that bit of cold war nostalgia could be a selling point, assuming it’s structurally sound. And any memorabilia down there could be worth something to collectors. Mark took a bite out of his large sandwich. I’ll knock down that little wall and check it out after lunch.

***

When he was cleaning out the basement earlier Mark had found an old sledgehammer. He donned a set of safety glasses and approached the wall with his hammer in hand. Mark inspected the courses of bricks and found a spot with some cracks in the mortar. He scratched a rough x on the brick with a cold chisel and lifted the hammer up to swing. Slamming a sledgehammer into a brick wall is not quiet business. The sound of his hammer ringing echoed through the now mostly empty basement.

Unknown to Mark, on the other side of the wall a pair of red eyes opened, glowing like embers in a dying fire. They waited in the darkness as the wall shook and cracked. The first bit of light to come through the damaged wall was so bright after all this time that the eyes shut tight against it. Even so, black lips curled into a smile.

Mark at first knocked a small hole into the wall and he smiled under his particle mask. Feeling encouraged he continued to swing at the wall, knocking more bricks and mortar loose. As the integrity of the wall was compromised it started to collapse into the room with a rumble of falling bricks smashing against the concrete floor. Mark stepped back and let the dust clear. There was a slight burning in his arms, but it was worth it. His safety glasses were covered in dust and fogged on the inside so he removed them and his mask and peered into the room.

The debris from the wall disrupted some of the lines and sigils that had been scribed on the floor decades past. The black lipped smile grew wider.

As Mark stared into the strange room he had opened he wasn’t sure what exactly he was looking at. He reached for a flashlight in his pocket, but his hand stopped halfway there when the many candles in the room burst into flame. In the flickering candlelight a strange room was illuminated. Old books lined a shelf along one wall while jars and boxes lined the other. Strange symbols covered the ceiling. On the floor he gasped when he saw what looked to be a shadowy human form sitting on the ground, legs pulled up to its chest sitting inside a complicated circle, now disturbed by the knocked-in wall.

The figure wasn’t in shadow, rather the shadows seemed to cling to the form. As Mark stared the figure slowly unfolded its body and stood up then the shadow seemed to evaporate from the form, like smoke drifting away. Mark’s eyes went wide and his skin paled. What stood in front of him in that room could only be a demon. Her skin was red like a firetruck, and below her waist she was covered in shaggy black fur and stood on a pair of ebony cloven hooves. There was no doubt the demon was a she, given the three sets of breasts hanging off her chest. A long red tail flicked back and forth behind her. Her red eyes gleamed as she smiled at the mortal man who had freed her from her binding.

“Thank you, mortal.” She slowly stepped out of the circle and over the remains of the brick wall.

“I, ah…” Mark took a step backward. “What? Who?”

“Oh don’t be silly,” she paused to stretch her arms over her head, “you know exactly what I am.”

“A demon?” Mark said in a whisper.

“Got it in one.” She giggled. “What’s your name, mortal?”

“M-Mark Bryson” he squealed out.

She eyed him up and down as she moved closer to the mortal. Mark was staring back at her, obviously in awe of her. He was of an average height with an athletic build and brown hair. A rather average example of a male human, though she felt there was some potential, after all he didn’t faint or run away screaming.

“Well, Mark, My name is Keturah, and I’ve been bound in that little room for…Hmmm,” she tapped her chin with a long pointed nail, “a few decades at least. I’m grateful for you releasing me, even if it was unintentional.”

“You’re welcome?” Mark replied as the demon now stood directly in front of him.

Keturah giggled. “Such a polite young mortal. You’ve done me a great favor, and I’m not one to let a debt go unpaid.”

“Really, it’s nothing. You’re free to go…you know, wherever.”

Hmmm, he will need a little work, but he’s cute at least. She reached out with her tail, grabbing Mark by surprise. Keturah pulled him up tight against her breasts, and tilted his head up to meet her glowing red eyes.

“Mark Bryson, for your aid I will reward you with a great gift. I will make you a proper Dark Lord, truly worthy of ruling by my side.”

“But…”

“Your acceptance is neither asked for, nor needed.” She leaned down and pressed her black lips against Mark’s before he could offer any more than a muffled gasp.

Keturah’s lips were warm, almost too hot, but the smooth soft lips were too inviting to pull away from. By the time the demon pulled away Mark was unsure just how much time had passed.

Mmm, this is going to be fun… Keturah smiled as she slowly released Mark from her tail.

Mark stumbled backwards slightly. He felt strange, he couldn’t quite define what he was feeling after the kiss. For all he knew this was just the normal feeling of being force-kissed by a demon.

What…what is going on…this can’t be real…I must be dreaming. Mark shook his head and then pinched his arm.

Of course nothing changed. Still standing in front of him was a tall, red skinned, six-breasted demon, smiling and staring him down with her red eyes.

“Tell me, Mark, there is something familiar about your scent. Are you by any chance related to Albert Carver?” His physical reaction was enough to answer Keturah’s question. “I see.”

“He, ahh, was apparently my great uncle…I never even met him…I just inherited the house from him!” Mark stammered out.

“So, Albert has passed away. Unfortunate, but not unexpected. He wasn’t exactly a young strapping man like yourself when he bound me in that circle and sealed the room. Oh, I don’t hold you responsible for his actions,” she made a dismissive gesture, “relax, Mark, The last thing I want is to cause you any…discomfort.”

Mark wasn’t entirely sure he believed that given her smile, but he bit his tongue on the matter. “So, ah, what now?”

“Mortals, always obsessed with time and schedules,” she shook her head slightly, “ well, I am curious about this home you inherited. I’m afraid I’ve never seen the rest of it, I was always just summoned into the circle you see. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind giving me a tour of your home, since it’s going to be mine as well for the time being.”

“S-sure, I’m sorry it’s a bit of a mess though, I just started cleaning things up.”

“After spending decades sealed in a small dark room, even a messy room will be something new and interesting to me.” She reached out and took Mark firmly by the hand. “Lead the way.”

Figuring anything else would leave him dead or possibly worse, Mark just swallowed and did as Keturah requested. They went up the stairs and into the kitchen where she looked around, taking in the 80’s style kitchen.

“Oh, are you here all alone or do you have any servants?” Keturah asked as she looked at her reflection in the toaster.

“It’s just me. I couldn't afford one if I wanted to. I’m on a budget as I fix the house up to sell.”

“Sell? Oh no,” the demon shook her head, “you don’t want to sell this place.”

“It’s a lot of house for one person.”

“Two,” she corrected with a smirk, “and it’s not about the size. Do you think it was just by chance that there was an occult study in the dungeon?”

“You mean basement?”

“Whatever. This house is built over intersecting ley lines.”

“And that means?”

Keturah sighed. “I can see interest in the occult and arcane didn’t run in the family. This is a place of power, otherwise William would never have been able to summon me in the first place.”

“Who the hell is William?” He regretted his choice words as her smirk deepened.

“William is, or rather was the mortal who built this house. He used me to further his wealth and power in this realm.”

“Did he now?”

“Yes, but in truth he was just a pawn of mine. I was this close,” Keturah made a small space between her forefinger and thumb, “to convincing him to release me from the circle and showing him his real place when he up and died. Of course I took my frustrations out on his soul on the other side, but still, disappointing.” She shrugged.

“You what?”

“Oh come on, do you think he went to the good place after all he did for my services?” She laughed loudly.

Mark blanched again and took a step back.

“Oh, don’t worry, Mark, I have much more…pleasant plans for you, dear.” Her smile wasn’t exactly comforting.

“I need a drink.”

He went to the fridge and got a can of light beer. He cracked it open and started to chug it before even closing the door. Mark closed his eyes and when he opened them Keturah was standing next to him, seemingly intrigued by the refrigerator.

“How clever.” She commented as she opened the freezer door. “So cold on the inside.”

Mark noticed all six of her dark red nipples growing hard from the cool air. He quickly finished his beer trying not to think about it.

“Come,” Keturah closed the doors and turned to him, “show me what else this home has to offer.”

Mark showed her the rest of the home, very grateful that he had yet to take down any of the curtains. She showed interest in the various appliances throughout the home commenting here or there on his late great uncle’s tastes in style. Before long they had moved on to the second floor. After Inspecting the other bedrooms she stopped at the closed door to Mark’s room.

“And what's behind here?” Keturah rapped lightly on the door.

“That’s the master bedroom.”

“Oh? Is that where you are sleeping as the house’s master?” She smiled and without waiting on permission she opened the door. “Much bigger than the other rooms, I see. She wandered around before sitting on the bed. “Hmmm, not as soft as I would have imagined.”

“Yeah, I was thinking of getting a new mattress.” Mark admitted as he walked towards the bed.

“Oh, allow me to take care of that.” she snapped her fingers.

The slightly lumpy mattress seemed to undulate and thicken. The simple cotton sheets disappeared and were replaced with silk sheets dark red and black in color. The single pillow Mark had brought with him multiplied into several soft plush ones across the head of the bed.

“I, ah, thank you…” He was at a loss as to what else to say.

“It’s no trouble, after all I will be using the bed as well.”

“What?” Mark was hoping his voice wasn’t as squeaky as it felt.

“Mark, you’re hardly a virgin, I could tell from when I kissed you.” She leaned back on the bed slightly spreading her furred legs so she was completely on display. “And you’ve been hard on and off since you first laid eyes on me. Those trousers of yours did little to hide that from me.”

Mark blushed and immediately covered his crotch with his hands.

“There’s no need to hide from me.” Her tail lashed out and wrapped around Mark’s waist and pulled the mortal close. “And if it's been a while for you, I assure you it's been far longer for me.”

Before he knew what was happening Keturah’s hands were sliding up under his shirt. Her hands felt so warm and inviting, while her long black nails gently teased his skin and drew a moan from his lips.

“See, you need this too…” Her voice was so low and sensual it made a shiver run down Mark’s spine.

Mark didn’t even realize the demon had removed his shirt until he saw Keturah tossing it over her back onto the floor. She pulled him in close with her tail, pressing his chest up tight against hers. Mark gasped at the hot red flesh pressing up against his own. He could feel every one of her six nipples, hard and pressing into him. Mark offered no resistance as Keturah pressed her black lips against his own. He let out a muffled moan that invited her long skilled tongue in. Mark went to wrap his arms around the demon when he felt himself being thrown down onto his now very comfortable bed. Keturah quickly pinned Mark down with a large smile on her black lips. This action did little to lessen his desires.

“Pay close attention, Mark, I expect you to remember everything I’m about to do to you.”

Not knowing what else to do, he just nodded his head.

Keturah’s hands ran slowly down Mark’s arms, dragging her nails along the way. She continued down his sides to his waistband. Keturah deftly unfastened his belt and fly and with help from her tail she whipped Mark’s jeans and underwear down past his knees. He could feel the fur on the demon rubbing up against his now exposed legs. He was somewhat surprised how nice and soft it felt. Keturah shifted her hips slightly and started to grind her pussy against Mark’s rock hard shaft. He moaned loudly, the hot wet pussy already feeling exquisite. He reached up to grab her furry hips, but Keturah grabbed his arms again and pinned them back down on the bed. Using the tip of her tail she guided Mark’s cock into her body. Almost agonizingly slowly, Keturah lowered her body down onto his shaft, not once breaking eye contact.

Oh, I can’t wait to improve this cock…then again after all this time I can’t really complain. I might as well just enjoy myself knowing things will only get better. Now let’s hope he’s a good study…

She slowly lifted herself up, almost pulling off of Mark completely before slamming herself back down. Keturah almost giggled at the expression on the mortal’s face. She continued to do the same exact thing, all the while keeping his hands pinned at his sides. Once Keturah felt Mark shifting his hips to meet her downward thrust she knew it was time to switch things up. No longer taking her time, she rode Mark hard and fast. Her demonic pussy squeezed and stroked his cock as she repeatedly slammed down on his shaft.

It had been centuries before her binding since she last fucked a mortal. She couldn’t be sure if it was her forced celibacy or if Mark was just that good for a baseline human. Either way, she was enjoying herself now. Mark stared up as the demon rode him like a bicycle. The sight of her three rows of breasts bouncing in a wave with each drop was mesmerizing. If he could, he would be running his hands over the scarlet orbs. Mark couldn’t believe he had lasted this long. This was no doubt the best sex he had ever had, but he was just edging higher and higher. Keturah could feel the young man struggling against her iron grip. Futile as it was, she appreciated effort.

One day you will be pinning my arms down… she tilted back her head and moaned. Just a bit more, I want to blow his mortal mind.

The demon squeezed Mark’s wrist as she moaned and cried out, knowing her voice would ignite his lustful passions as much as her pussy. Mark’s body was on fire. All he wanted was a sweet release. He couldn't even see straight anymore, Keturah was just a red blur pinning him down on the silk sheets of his bed. The demon looked down and smiled wickedly. She knew at that moment everything would work out in time. She released the little spell she was holding over Mark.

Mark cried out, almost roaring as he thrust his hips up into the demon. His back arched off the bed, but Keturah managed to keep his arms pinned. He came hard and strong into the ridiculously hot pussy surrounding his cock. Keturah enjoyed the moment as well, softly moaning, as she basked in Mark's climax as much as her own.

The mortal collapsed back down onto the bed, his eyes closed and panting for air. Keturah released his arms now, not that he had the energy to lift them. She looked down at her new project and smiled widely.

This is going to be more fun than I’ve had in millennia, I can just tell. She leaned down and slowly kissed Mark on his lips. “You won’t ever forget that, will you?” she giggled softly.

Mark just let out a grown. He didn’t trust his mouth to form words at that point.

I’m going to need another drink…Mark thought as he drifted off to unconsciousness.

_________________________________________

Characters and setting belong to ~a-lycotonum

Writing by Syntaxerror37

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