Chapter One

The Horns of the Demon

I see the demon for the first time a week before Thanksgiving. I’m at my usual table in Obsessions chatting with one of the patrons when I see the horns reflected in the wall mirror directly in front of me. I rub my eyes and look closer to be sure I’m not imagining it. No, the horns are real, protruding out in two sharp points from the man’s forehead, as if surgically implanted into his flesh. The horns have this repulsive reddish-black hue; the color of a centipede. My blood runs cold when I see them. I’ve been afraid of the devil ever since I was a little girl. Despite the fact I had convinced myself the devil is not real, Satan has come for me in the flesh to make his claim on my body and my soul.

The horned man catches me looking at him and he stares back at me in the mirror. Normally I don’t mind being an object of lust for the gentlemen in the club, but the demon’s lascivious gaze makes me uncomfortable down to my bones. Thankfully I see my Dom, Jim Jefferson, standing next to the beast. James notices me in the mirror and smiles in that shy affectionate way of his. I escape for a moment into the tranquil pools of his beautiful brown eyes.

I’ve never seen this odd creepy man in Obsessions before. James is evidently taking him on the standard tour he gives to all first time visitors. It has always been my Dom’s policy to allow any person to visit his club who wishes to explore an alternative sexual lifestyle, regardless of their physical appearance or proclivities, as long as they follow the rules. I just wish on this occasion he had not been so welcoming.

Two Goth-looking women dressed in unflattering black lingerie stand next to the demon, apparently as part of his entourage. Though they don’t wear pointy black hats, they look like witches just the same. They’re rather plain-looking, apart from the thick mascara under their eyes, and have stringy black hair. Their faces are expressionless. They attend to his needs like servants, one woman holding his drink, the other his cane. The horned man pays no attention to them. As James speaks to the man, the two women stand obediently at the demon’s side, awaiting his next command.

Everyone in the club stares at the pair of witches. Although the women don’t seem to notice the strange looks, I feel sorry for them. However revolting the demon is to me, I think it’s wrong to judge them for their devotion. I know what it feels like to worship a man. If the Christian friends I once knew ever found out about my submissive relationship with James, they would assume I too was a lost soul, destined for an eternity of suffering in the pits of Hell. To them, I would be considered as nothing more than an unchaste woman, a whore. I know I’ll never be accepted by my parents, my friends or the church I once belonged to. But I also know my Dom loves me exactly as I am. I finally found a place in th