Tidying Up

Grandma's little helper is not so little.

I started writing this story as a fun piece of supernatural erotica. Then, as the story progressed, it became much darker (and a bit naughtier than I had intended).

“It doesn’t look like a witch’s house,” Nicola said.

“My grandma never said she was a witch, she just had some rather non-conformist religious beliefs,” Jean sighed as they walked up the path to the detached, three-bedroomed suburban house. Jean looked around. The large garden was neat and tidy; maybe the gardener had kept coming after her Gran’s death.

Inside it was different. Opening the front door revealed another world. The rooms were filled with stacks of books. It was not messy, there was no junk littering the clean floors, at least where they could be seen. Her Gran had been an eccentric academic: books, knowledge of the occult, had been her life.

“Ahh, there’s a bird in here,” Nicola squawked from the living room doorway.

Jean looked over her shoulder. “It’s stuffed,” she said. “It’s a peregrine falcon.”

The bird peered down at them disapprovingly from the top of a bookcase.

“Where do we start?” Nicola asked. She turned and opened another door off the hallway. “Well, at least this room’s clear.” Nicola stepped into a dark room, its walls painted black, the window boarded over. There were two low cupboards on either side of the door and a circular symbol was chalked on the floor.

“This is where she practised her rituals,” Jean said from the doorway.

“She was a witch,” Nicola said.

“Come on, we need to start clearing.” Jean turned and walked into the living room. Nicola followed.

They spent the next hour packing boxes with books in the living room. “Sometimes I need a man,” Jean said as she pushed a heavy box to one side.

“Not right now,” Nicola giggled. “There’s a lot more packing to do.”

“I didn’t mean like that.” Jean tried to frown. “Sometimes it’s just nice to have one around to lift stuff.”

“None of the ones I meet have any staying power. I mean, I know I’m a bit chubby but they like these.” Nicola cupped her palms under her large breasts and wobbled them under her T-shirt. “The trouble is, as soon as they get their hands on them they are off, then I need to find another.

“Well, you are a bit of a nympho,” Jean laughed. “Perhaps you wear them out.”

“No I’m not.” Nicola smoothed down the front of her T-shirt. “It’s just that me and the gang are good friends.”

“Yes, and they are all plastic and battery powered,” Jean laughed.

Nicola sighed. “I’d just like a bloke who would show up regularly and fuck me senseless. You know, be there when I need him, save me buying batteries.”

“It’s called marriage,” Jean said.

Nicola sneered. “Yes, but that comes with all that washing, cleaning, cooking dinner.”

“Arguments, divorce,” Jean added.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

Jean waved her hand. “Don’t worry. That’s all over and done with.”

“Time for a break,” Nicola said. She got up and wandered into the dark room whilst Jean headed into the kitchen to make coffee.

“Hey, there’s some instructions in here,” Nicola shouted from the other room.

“Instructions for what?”

“To summon a helper.” Nicola appeared in the doorway holding a sheet of paper.

“It must be one of Gran’s projects,” Jean said without turning her head.

“Come on, let’s give it a try,” Nicola said.

“You’re joking. I never believed in all that stuff anyway.”

“We’re due a break. Who knows, it might conjure up some hunky man to help lift the boxes.”

Jean shrugged and followed her through into the empty room.

“Look, she has already drawn the symbol on the floor.” Nicola pointed down. “Now, what’s next?” She giggled. “It says we have to be naked.”

“Aw, come on,” Jean shrugged.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before,” Nicola said, yanking her T-shirt over her head. Her boobs wobbled alarmingly and then hung down as she bent and slipped off her jeans and knickers.

Jean sighed and slowly stripped off her clothes. Once Nicola got something into her head, there was no stopping her. She looked across at her friend. Nicola looked like an earth mother, big-breasted, wide-hipped as if painted by Renoir. Yes, she was a bit plump by modern standards but men relished her sexuality, or maybe it was just her availability.

“You stand there.” Nicola pointed to one corner of the symbol. “I stand here and read this text.” She slowly started to read out the words on the paper.

“Give it to me,” Jean said. “If you pronounce them like that, who knows what will happen.” She took the paper from Nicola’s hand and began to read as her Grandmother had taught her many years ago.”

The air in the room grew cold and seemed to swirl around them. Then something appeared in the centre of the symbol. Jean continued reading and a figure slowly materialised.

“Bloody hell,” Nicola said as the shape sparkled and began to form. “Beam me down, Scottie.”

Jean shot her an angry look. The figure began to coalesce into the shape of a man as if someone was slowly moulding him out of clay. His skin began to colour and his features became visible. The apparition solidified and stood in the centre of the chalk marks, dark-haired, muscular and naked. His head turned as he looked from one woman to the other.

He bowed slightly and said, “I am at your command.”

“Fuck me,” Nicola squeaked.

The figure stepped towards her.

“I didn’t… are you really going to?” Nicola stammered.

The figure paused. “I will do whatever you ask.”

“Well, a bit of a warm up first would be nice. You know, a bit of foreplay. Maybe some oral.”

He knelt in front of her, his tongue tracing lines across her belly and then up the insides of her thighs.

“Oh fuck,” Nicola blurted out as his mouth wrapped around her sex, his tongue slipping deep inside and then pulling out to press on her bud. She staggered backwards until her behind met the edge of one of the cupboards. She leaned against it and spread her legs.

Jean watched as waves surged through her making her breasts jiggle like oversized jellies. “Nicola,” she said, sounding like a disapproving schoolmistress.

Nicola ignored her. She shouted out a series of short, sharp, Ah, sounds and grabbed at the man’s hair. “Oh, fuck,” she said again, which seemed to be the sum total of her vocabulary at that moment. At last, she managed to blurt out, “Fuck… yes…now.”

The man rose up and impaled her on the full length of his cock which had grown and stiffened into an impressive staff as he knelt before her. His hips bucked and Jean watched his buttock muscles clench and relax as he pounded into Nicola, who looked as if she was about to explode. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her eyes rolled up and back and the strangest expression became fixed on her face. It was as if she were experiencing extremes of pain and pleasure simultaneously, her mind unsure which to react to.

Nicola let out another series of staccato, bird-like sounds and her whole body went rigid. The figure paused, his cock buried deep inside her. She shuddered, her breasts, her belly, her thighs shaking and rippling as if the cupboard was vibrating under her.

Then she relaxed, the wave pulsing through her lulled for a moment. The man moved again, pushing long, slow thrusts, deep into her pussy. Nicola stiffened, grabbed at the surface of the cupboard, scratching it with her fingernails as she lost control again.

Jean looked down at the paper and quietly said the next words written there. The figure withdrew, his cock still hard and shining with Nicola’s juices, and stepped back into the centre of the symbol on the floor.

Nicola was breathing heavily. “What just happened..? That was fucking amazing… Is he real?” She glanced at the man now standing in the centre of the room as the words tumbled out of her.

“He is,” Jean said.

“Can he go again?” Nicola gasped as her breathing subsided.

“My Grandmother told me, There is always a price to pay.” Jean looked from Nicola to the man.

“Whatever,” Nicola said, “It’s worth it. I’ve never been fucked like this before.

Without looking down at the paper, Jean said another series of words. The man stepped forward, his cock still standing out solid and erect in front of him. He brushed the head against Nicola’s pussy lips, sliding it up and down, parting her folds.

Nicola moaned. “He’s fucking gorgeous,” she said as she reached out and, cupping her hand around the taught muscles of his arse, pulled him into her.

The figure began thrusting into Nicola but his shape was metamorphosing. His skin was becoming the colour of ripe olives, his fingernails grew and sharpened to become talons that bit into the soft white skin of Nicola’s thighs leaving red gouges. His face lengthened, became a demonic mask and his smile spread into a leer that revealed sharp, pointed teeth.

His cock swelled, pushing ever deeper.

Nicola screamed, the wail resounding around the room.

Jean leaned over, her face inches away from Nicola’s. “I told you there is always a price to pay,” she hissed. “Just as there is a price to pay for fucking my husband.”

“Your ex-husband, “ Nicola squealed.

“Not when you were fucking him, he wasn’t.” Jean’s voice was icy.

“But he fucked anything,” Nicola wailed.

“Oh yes, and I will get to those amongst them who deserve it - and him. But you are the only one who called herself my friend, so you are the first to pay.”

She stepped back and turned to the figure. “Take her. Take her to your realm and use her as you please.”

The devil like figure, now fully transformed, lifted Nicola off the cupboard as if she weighed nothing more than a paper doll. With her still impaled on his organ, he stepped back into the ring of the symbol and they both disappeared.

Jean smiled. “Thank you, Gran,” she said to the empty room.

Back in the living room, Jean lifted the falcon down from the top of the bookcase. “Come, me beauty,” she said softly. “It’s time to hunt.”

If you like the style of this story there is much more in my latest series which starts with The Invitation

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if you prefer your erotic reading demon free then head over to The Kinky Collection (this will be updated in the next few days)