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Savannah enjoys an affair with her math teacher.
My little slave, you'll make me very happy."
All I could think was nope, not happening. The protest in my mind reached a cacophony and there was a popping sensation. She blinked at the same moment I regained control of myself. Briselen took a step back in confusion and a roaring, surging sound filled my ears.
I was scared and furious and a tingling pressure was rapidly swelling up inside me. My hands clenched into fists. Demon or not I was going to hit her, then haul ass. Something inside me gave me pause. Just as in the hotel lobby, there was a shifting pressure in my mind along with the dim sound of someone's voice.
Instead of striking her, I found myself picturing her flying across the apartment as if struck by a giant flyswatter like the overgrown gnat she was. There was a release inside me, like a rubber band snapping, followed by a loud smacking noise. I'm not sure who was more surprised, myself or Briselen when she went flying across the room and slammed into the thick stone wall. I felt drained for a moment, the sensation similar to having finished a set of bench presses.
Flakes of black dust fell to the floor as Briselen crumpled to the ground. Her wings and tail looked broken, her eyes filled with shock and pain. I glanced down at my hands, I hadn't touched her but something had. Questions swirled about in my mind. Had I really heard a voice and had the pressure inside me somehow struck out at Briselen? I shook my head to clear it; this was not the time for self-reflection.
For a moment, I was tempted to say something witty. The reality of being in a confined space with a demon woman who would likely be murderously pissed squashed that impulse. Willing my legs to work, I was relieved to be staggering towards the door to what I hoped was outside. I couldn't seem to get my balance back, my tits kept tugging me off center and the shocking lack of a penis and testicles was nagging at me.
Leaning against the doorframe, I turned the knob and pushed the door open. Happy that it wasn't locked or a fake door I staggered outside before stopping. The scenery was not at all what I was hoping for.
I found myself standing at the top of a straight stair made of black stone leading down a steep hill to a narrow street. Lining the stair were closely set structures, with little space between them. The surrounding buildings were all made of black basalt, each looking roughly hewn and unfinished. Each structure was of a different architectural style than its neighbors. Some looked gothic with grand sweeping colonnades while others looked Arabic. Many were simply blocky with no distinguishing features.
Looking down the hill was comparable to standing above an ancient metropolis, it was crowded with low-story buildings with few open areas. Scattered among the structures filling my view were imposing towers. Tall and narrow their blocky black lengths pierced the hazy purple sky. Rolling red and orange clouds lazily swept across the horizon. I wasn't sure if it was night or day. There was light enough to see people moving around in the narrow street below me.
Fleshy popping noises drew my attention back into the apartment doorway. Briselen was staggering to her feet. Her wings jerked as the bones righted themselves with sickening sounds. Her head swiveled in my direction, her eyes were glowing a bright purple, her face a rictus mask of rage and pain.
It was well past time to go. I thought of the sliding metal shutter next to the door. Clearly, it was meant to seal the apartment against unwanted visitors. As Briselen turned towards me, her wings jerked back into their proper form before folding down. She was preparing to launch herself at me. Concentrating, I thought of that shutter sliding across the door just before she reached me. Wishful thinking had worked before so maybe it would work now.
The same tingling and building of pressure happened again.