A beige rug spanned most of the floor, but the design was lost to the dim light. The walls were mostly bare except for one oil painting depicting a misshapen goat and a sliver of a moon. It was either a modern take on art or done by an amateur.
Hadriel picked up the candleholder, the candle half burned from previous use with dried wax dripping down the sides.
“So. Here we are.” He hiccupped and patted his chest then felt around a little. He dropped his head to look down. “Ah fuck.”
“What?” I asked, unable to help myself.
“I forgot I wore this tonight. Do you think the master noticed?”
“How…” I contained a laugh. “How could you possibly forget you wore that?”
He staggered back a couple of paces and braced his fingers on the nightstand. “Once that demon magic kicks in, you stop caring what you look like. All you want is to…”
He narrowed his eyes at me.
I put up my hands. “I’m not judging. I know the effect it has.”
He sagged. “Yeah. It’s a good time. A real good time. But then you wake up, and you just feel dirty, know what I mean? I’m wearing a furry demon costume, hoping to bang any wet hole I come across. I don’t even care who it belongs to or what body part it is, I just want to stick my dick in it. What am I, eighteen?”
I placed him in his mid-twenties, a bit older than me. He had tanned skin and a thin mustache above thin lips. He was somewhat toned but clearly didn’t work out or fight for his dinner. He’d said as much.
“But it gets so fucking boring here,” he went on, “that I keep venturing down to the party. Booze and sex were really fun for, like, five years. Then it was a pleasant distraction. Now…I’m just shame-fucking, you know? And if I’m not shame-fucking, I’m shame-eating. I used to do hobbies and shit. And, I don’t know, make use of myself. Now I just do whatever that hot incubus tells me. He’s got me banging ladies. I don’t even like banging ladies! But I do it. Why not? It’s not like I have any self-respect anymore.”
I grimaced. “That’s dark. How old are you exactly?”
“When the curse first started, I was twenty-six. And since we’re frozen in time…I guess I’m still twenty-six? There are different schools of thought on that subject, but we’re pretty sure we’ll emerge from the curse how we went in, just with a lot of terrible sexual experiences under our belt. I’m going to be so vanilla after all this, I am not shitting you. Zero kinks after this. I’ll be a new man.”
“Wait…what do you mean, frozen in time?”
His brow pinched, and then cleared with a smile. “My apologies. I completely forgot your whole deal. Yeah, you guys age and get sick with the curse, right? We don’t get sick, but we’re stuck in time. Everything here just stopped. No idea why it’s different between the castle and the villages, but there you go. I’ve been twenty-six for sixteen years.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“Anyway, yeah. Super dark.” He pulled open the nightstand drawer before closing it again. “We need to get you some vibrators. You’re not allowed to go to the parties—I wish I hadn’t been allowed to go to the parties. Anyway, you’ll probably want something to take the edge off. They’re these little demon-magic-powered fuck sticks. They’re awesome. I have one that, like, sucks my cock while spinning around, and—it’s the stuff of legends. Or…it would be if I wasn’t mired in a puddle of boredom turned self-loathing.” He paused, pointing at me. “Are you into butt stuff?”
I made a sound like “Whuh” and envisioned myself clutching a strand of pearls in an iron fist. Now I knew what Hannon always felt like.
He nodded like that was an answer. “I’ll make sure and get you one to try out. They’re all clean, don’t worry. We don’t reuse or anything. The demons keep us in stock. What else?”
“Am I to be kept in this room…all the time?”
“She’s going to need a fuck-ton of candles…” He headed over to the far wall and started poking around in a chest of drawers. “I don’t know, are you?” He looked around. “I should hope not. Nah, I don’t think so. He wouldn’t confine you here. Not when…” His eyes widened, and he went back to poking in the chest.
“Not when what?” I edged forward.
He shook his head. “We have a magical gag. If we talk about…some things, the gag locks up and we suffocate to death. Do you know how many people have died from activating the magical gag? A lot, let me assure you. For a while, we would try to get others drunk and talk about…things they weren’t supposed to talk about, just to see if they’d fuck up and die.”