Demon Hunter for Rent

Belson's fire lit up the small clearing in the woods not far from the road. He had selected this place carefully, he was not so far from the road to be unable to find it in the morning, but far enough off that no traveler (read that, highway bandit) would see it and come to rob him in his sleep. Belson flexed an arm muscle instinctively as he thought that, he felt no qualms about his safety were he awake when robbers approached, but when he slept, he might not awaken in time.

Kimma, his mekwa, a large hairy bundle of gray-haired, broad-faced riding beast tethered nearby, whuffled a warning, and Belson rose to his feet and drew his sword in a single, smooth motion of muscles well-toned and cooperating in his survival with grace and efficiency. "Hark, who bides there?" he called out. Kimma wouldn't have spooked for anything but an approaching danger, and a mekwa is a beast large enough to not fear anything smaller than a man or a wolf.

"Pray, come no closer for now." the voice in the darkness behind a nearby bush responded. "I would speak before you beheld me. But first, may I ask your profession?

"I am Belson of Woorwick Village," Belson answered, "and I am by profession a demon hunter and mercenary for hire." The two were not identical terms. A mercenary protected one from earthly dangers, a demon hunter from other-worldly ones. Demons intruded into this sphere from time to time and it took a strong and capable warrior indeed to fend off a challenger who could attack with not only swords or spears, but also with talons, fangs and poisonous this-and-thats on elbows, knees, tentacles or horns, not to mention magic both foul and arcane. A wise merchant on a travel was careful to hire both kinds, and a foolish warrior who falsely claimed to be a master of demon-fighting usually paid for his folly with his life. Belson had slain three demons to date and felt competent enough to list this skill first when questioned.

"Aahh!" the voice made a sound both of understanding and great relief. "Then I can speak with you and you can understand when others would not."

"Speak on." Belson said gruffly. He shifted his stance into full fighting mode, though clad only in a cloth gird about his loins. His muscles would be his armor if needed, for they were large, round, scarred with many wounds both remembered and forgotten. His hair, shoulder-length of bright red, was kept from falling in his face by a thin leather tie at his forehead, and his chin was kept scraped clear of a beard (for a foe may snatch at it and yank, bringing blinding tears to his eyes had he not), and thus girded for battle if needed, Belson held his sword in front of him at an angle of attack or defense as needed.

"I am not as you would behold me if you saw me, I am accursed! A man under a spell! I need your help to find and slay the demon that did this to me, for only his death will abate this curse!"

"You want my help?" Belson's sword shifted to a less threatening angle.

"Yes, yes, I want to rent you!" the voice said eagerly.

Belson was taken aback, one "hired" a demon hunter, one "rented" a prostitute! "You mean to hire me." he clarified.

"Yes, yes. If you'll let me rent you...."

"Hire me." Belson repeated.

"...I can lead you to the demon's lair."

"Very well, come forward to my fire and we'll discuss the terms of my hiring."

"I warn you that my appearance will surprise you. Remember I am under a curse and only show myself so I can rent you."

Belson's mouth moved to counter the slander a third time and stopped before the first syllable could flutter out of his open mouth. What stepped from behind the bush was.... "A demon!"

"Nay, nay, not me!" the vision protested.

Belson looked up at the cursed man, quite a ways up. The "man" was some ten feet tall, with blue skin, large horns above each eye much like a bull's, with eyes like a cat's, yellow and feral, a face that would have been handsome under other circumstances, and a well-muscled body bare of all hair, with smaller horns at his elbows and jutting out of his heels, and a flapping piece of cloth that didn't quite hide a large male organ flapping about underneath. The fingers and toes had claws rather than nails, round and point-tipped (though not razor sharp, they would hurt if they slashed at you), and when he opened his mouth to speak, the teeth as well were long and sharp. "Please let me rent you!" the visage pleaded.

"Hire." Belson said again, though rather hopeless in tone, if this being insisted on saying "rent" instead of "hire" to him, he wasn't sure he could insist on the correction any longer. He might, were he lucky, be able to fight and kill a being such as this, but if constrained to less than killing, he would surely lose. Even killing such might require a low stratagem or two.

"Yes, yes, if you let me rent you, it's only a day's journey there, and you can take your fee by taking as much of the demon's treasure as you can carry away with you, for it is bountiful. It is how he caught and cursed me, for I sought his treasure, thinking I was sly enough to steal some without his notice. Together we will slay him easily. Will you agree to this payment, for if he is dead, I shall gain the remainder of the treasure."

"Yes. Agreed." Belson said.

The "demon" smiled, and his large blue hand came out and Belson took it by the wrist, the hand enclosed on his own and they shook, the motion nearly dislocated Belson's shoulder and he winced, but it was done.

"Well, then, we are travelers together."

"Yes, I was about to have my evening meal." Belson said. "And what may I call you?"

"Call me? Uh, oh, me Raven." He pronounced the name not like the bird, but as the first two syllables of "ravenous."

"Raven. I am Belson."

"Yes, yes, I know. May I share your meal?" the demon slavered at the animal roasting on Belson's spit. He had brought down a small wild boar and was hoping to eat off of it for the next four days, it was why he had set up his camp in mid-afternoon.

"Yes, of course..." Belson said and stopped as Raven took three broad steps to the fire, scooped up the entire boar on the spit. He took large bites out of the pig which wasn't entirely done, and soon had turned it into a pile of broken bones. So much for Belson's own dinner! He resignedly fished into his pack and found a piece of a loaf of bread. He would have to hunt again tomorrow.

Raven redeemed himself somewhat after that, he went back to his bush and brought out a rather substantial keg of ale! The large blue being lifted the three-gallon-sized barrel and drank deeply, Belson received the dregs, less than a mug of alcohol thick with the grit of settled spirits. As he did this, Raven sank down onto Belson's best bedding, using it as a pillow, and fall fast asleep, leaving Belson to slumber on bare ground with his mekwa's riding pad for a covering. It itched like hell and bore a number of rapacious fleas.

To top it all off, Raven snored all night long as well! And farted in his sleep!

Kimma wasn't happy at Raven for a traveling companion (Raven had no steed, but his size permitted him to trot alongside and keep a good pace) and they had to duck into the woods and hide at every approaching traveler, but beyond that, Belson found the now-sober Raven to be a companionable associate. They traded tales of their exploits and for every adventure Belson came out with, Raven brought forth one of his own that was just a little bit better. By the third, Belson realized that Raven was embellishing his tales and began to do the same to his own and in due time, their stories became quite preposterous indeed. It became, thus, a rather friendly exchange between the two and Belson quite stopped thinking of Raven as a demon, and more as a man despite his larger size

By the end of the day, he was laughing and singing a bawdy song with Raven about the women of Simena and the passionate hospitality they showed any male traveler to their beautiful city.

They crested a hill and a large, forlorn, battered stone building stood on the next hill beyond, black against the orange-red sky of the setting sun.

"There it is, the demon's lair. It was once an ancient fortress, until he moved in. Now he uses it to terrorize the land for a hundred miles about." Raven explained. "We can sneak in when darkness falls."

"Not this one. He strikes by day, at night, he slips back to his own realm. We can summon him from there and strike before he recovers from the journey."

"Is that so?" Belson had never heard of this, you fought a demon and won or lost depending upon your skill with a sword in combat.

Raven smiled, disconcerting on that large fanged face. "You may depend on me in this. We need to slip in under cover of darkness and find his conjuring room. There, we can summon him back before he is ready and he will be weak and vulnerable. You can dispatch him easily then, can you not?"

Belson's smile slowly grew to match Raven's. "I can, indeed!"

Raven extended the taloned hand, and this time, Belson shook it without a qualm.

There was little food left in Belson's bag, but he shared it with Raven for their meal and then set out to skulk toward the old fortress.

The rooms were dank and empty-feeling. It didn't smell like a demon had been here for quite some time. Before he could voice this feeling to Raven, Raven had led him to a small, square room which had a pentagram inexpertly sketched on the floor in rough chalk lines.

"Now we can summon him from here and he'll have to return, the two journeys so close together will sap much of his energy. But we need to be quick."

"You know how to summon him?" Belson asked. This was as new to him as his own knowledge of demons would be to a common peasant.

"Certainly and it's simple enough. Just lay your blanket down in the middle of the pentagram and lie on it."

Bewildered, Belson complied and had just settled down, on his back, on top of his blanket when he felt it. A large blue hand sliding up his inner thigh. He opened his eyes to see the big broad face leering over him. And what was now sliding up between his legs was definitely NOT a hand. "Oh, oh, oh, no!" he gasped.

"But we must summon the demon." Raven was over him with a wide leer on his face. "Didn't you know how a demon is summoned?"

Belson stammered, "A spell and words and magic potions...."

"Ways to contact the other realm." Raven agreed. "And what greater power is there to reach the realm of demons that feed on emotions such as human passions than to generate some passion? Why else would I seek a demon-hunter to rent?"

Now the sense of Raven insisting on that word was clear. "So you want you and me to...."

"To generate a bit of hot lusty passion to summon the demon. So you can kill it."

Belson couldn't see another answer to that. The thought of sex with another man didn't deter him, he had joined with other men, fellow warriors and good friends, in the past. He had joined with men upon such brief associations and good fellowships as he'd enjoyed with Raven this day.


"Very well." he sighed. "If we must, we must."

The thick organ he had felt creeping alongside his thigh now touched his buttocks and he was relieved to feel that Raven had lubricated it somehow, whether by spit or by oil, it was slippery. But the glans he remembered that was now knocking at his nether hole was another matter. "Oh, oh, it's too big!"

"It's not so big that a real man cannot take it." soothed Raven. "You will see." Raven jabbed his dong into Belson, who felt the thick shaft puncture his sphincter with a bright flash of pain.

"Ahhh!" he winced, then gritted his teeth. "Go ahead."

Raven stabbed him again and Belson keened with the pain, but didn't impede him further.

Further pokes of Raven's dong pushed the thick organ further inside. Belson moaned and writhed, holding onto the massive blue body with arms and hands that were large for a man's, but thin and brown on the huge fiendish shape above him. Raven's dong wasn't quite the same as a man's, in full erection, the shaft had large bumps on it that made the insertions and withdrawals an uncomfortable, lumpy experience. Raven grew more excited as he moved, and his thrusts became faster.

Belson felt his anus being buffeted by those bumps as they moved in and out, like riding a galloping saur (he hadn't ridden one of the smelly, lizard-like, ostrich-like beasts since getting his mekwa) on a rough mountain road. The only thing that made it half-tolerable was that those same bumps were performing a miracle of pleasure on his prostate. He groaned at the pain, grunted at the passion, flailed anew as every thrust dove into his body. "Faster now, faster!" He murmured. "I need it faster, and harder."

"I knew you'd like it." Raven sped up his thrusts, his powerful hips bobbing back and forth and Raven grinned down at Belson, with sharp fangs as a shiny zig-zag row across the white expanse, distorted because the tips didn't quite mesh into the gaps of the other teeth and stuck out like dots of pain awaiting the unwary. Between those teeth reached out a forked snake-like tongue that lapped at Belson's cheek and neck, leaving a slimy trail with each motion that was just short of disgusting to Belson's universe of desire.

"More, more!" Belson constricted, throwing his head far back so that he was looking at the wall behind him upside down. Were the walls about them glowing? "Faster, harder, more!" That glow in his loins, at least, was unmistakable, he was about to climax! "I'm nearly there!"

"I'll fill you full of hot demon come, little demon-hunter!" Raven slavered above him. The eyes were glowing a bright yellow, with pupil of red brighter still. Belson could well believe that it was a demon that had mounted him, taken him, was enjoying him. "Can't you feel my majesty burning within you?"

His dong was indeed getting rather hot. The bumps were even larger than before, the it slid into him, thumped about as it pulled out. Belson began to gasp, groan, moan loud enough to...awaken the demons? "Ah, ah, uh, oh, oh, oh! So close, so close, keep moving, keep moving...."

"Fill you full of demon seed!"

"I'm close, so close, oh, oh, oh!"

"Hot demon seed!"

"Oh, OH, OH, OH!"

"Feel my demon seed flowing!"

"OH, AH, AH-HUH, GUH-UHHHHH!" Belson's fingertips bit into Raven's flesh, and he felt the burning acrid fluid of Raven's ichor on his fingertips. Raven's sweat boiled out of his flesh and dripped down and each drop was a separate acid sting ass it touched his own sweat-dappled body.

Raven threw back his own head and let out a howl that must have shaken the very bowels of Hell itself! "AH-AH, OHHHHHH, WOO-OOOOOOOOH!"

The rush of seminal fluid into Belson's body was not like anything he'd ever felt before. There was at least five or six times the normal amount for one thing, it flooded in and fill and overflowed his bowels in no time, hot geysers of green-tinged spunk blasted all over the two of them, and it, too, had a feeling of being splashed with acid, Belson felt welts blossoming on him where it felt, as if he were being whipped instead of splattered. The pain only intensified his own ecstasy and his own ejaculation, withheld by dint of his own muscular control which prolonged his climax, released and he squirted his jizz like separate arrows of hot white seed up and it splashed onto Raven's azure-hued stomach muscles, and the space between them was a fountain of spraying spunk in all directions and both man and blue demon were stained and splattered by their orgasm.

As Belson felt the hot burning sting of Raven's jism and his own ejaculate, he fell into an odd slumber that overwhelmed him entire as his ectasy faded, very alike falling into an unexpected chasm and he was falling, falling, falling....

He awakened the next morning when the light was in the sky. Rose and looked about. He was alone in a room and it was not the room he and Raven had been in the night before. He was completely nude and there was no sight of his sword, pack or other possessions. Even Kimma was gone from where he'd been left the night before. Belson now had nothing but his own life and even his body bore large red marks where Raven's sperm had touched it, with freckle-sized blots where the sweat had dripped from their passion.

He thought that the demon must have come upon them unaware and knocked him out, and Raven was...where had the hapless cursed fellow demon-hunter gone?

Over on a wall where he hadn't looked yet, he saw it, a piece of parchment tacked to the wall by a stick driven through the parchment into a notch in the wall between stones. It had been written on by what looked like his own blood, for he had red streaks which were smeared by what looked like Raven's finger-claws.

Well, Raven had managed to leave a note for him before being taken into Hell with the demon they had summoned. Perhaps he might manage to rescue him after all, if for no better reason, he had yet to be paid. Yes, rescue Raven and get that curse removed from him, and hope that the amazing fuck he'd gotten was from the man and not the curse....

This was how he thought all the way up until he read the note. Just two short sentences:

"You're why I love fucking demon-hunters. They're just so easy to fool." Somehow, he could hear the mocking tone in Raven's words as he read them.

Belson let all that seep into his brain and sighed. He was now penniless and naked. First, he'd have to beg or borrow or steal some clothing from one of the peasants. Then he'd better get himself on to the nearest mid-sized town, and find a place where nobleman or rich merchants went in search of rough, muscled men for their sexual pleasure.

Yep, what he needed to be right now was a demon-hunter for rent.