Chapter 12: can't keep off each other
The pizza box sat on the floor, greasy and half-empty. The room smelled of pepperoni, sex, and the faint, metallic tang of magic that seemed to cling to Lily like cheap perfume. Theo, wearing only his cargo pants, felt strangely normal sitting cross-legged next to the bed, chewing a slice. Giana was wrapped in a fuzzy lavender bathrobe, her damp hair leaving dark spots on the fabric. Lily, of course, wore nothing at all, one leg hooked over the arm of the desk chair as she demolished a second slice.
“So, like,” Giana said around a mouthful of cheese, her eyes bright with curiosity fixed on Lily. “How many? Ballpark figure.”
Lily wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Dicks?”
“Yeah.”
“Lost count before the Renaissance, sweetheart. More than the grains of sand in your stupid little shoes.” She took a swig from a can of soda. “It’s a living. Was a living.”
“Anybody famous? Like, historical famous?”
“A few kings. A pope. That one painter with the melty clocks was a real freak. Terrible in bed, though. All talk.” Lily smirked, a piece of pepperoni stuck to her tooth. “Why? You want autographs? I got nothin’.”
Theo stared at his pizza, his ears burning. He was eating dinner with a demon and his crush, discussing millennia of fornication. His life had permanently derailed.
Giana leaned forward, her enormous breasts straining the robe’s tie. “Do you like… girls? More than guys?”
Lily’s blue eyes gleamed. She let the question hang, taking another slow drink. “I like cock,” she said finally, the word blunt and heavy in the quiet room. “The shape of it. The feel of it spurting. But a sweet, dumb cunt like yours?” She pointed a greasy finger at Giana. “That’s a delicious hobby. I like making pretty things come. I like owning them. Gender’s just plumbing.”
Giana didn’t blush; she nodded as if receiving sage wisdom. “And the magic stuff. You said you’re magic. Like, besides the obvious.” She gestured vaguely at Lily’s naked, impossible body.
“Oh, sugar, you have no idea.” Lily’s smile turned wicked. She put the soda down and focused on Theo. “Watch this.”
She didn’t move from the chair. She just looked at him. Her eyes seemed to darken, the pupils swallowing the icy blue. She flicked her tongue over her lips.
Theo felt it instantly. A heat, not in the room, but in his groin. A sudden, insistent tugging in his balls, a flush of blood that had nothing to do with thought or desire. His half-hardened cock, resting in his open pants, twitched and began to swell against his thigh, fully against his will.
“Lily, don’t—” he started, his voice tight.
But it was too late. The pressure built, a swift and ruthless tide. There was no touch, no friction, just the overwhelming, magical compulsion to climax. His back stiffened. His knuckles turned white around the crust in his hand. A sharp, helpless groan escaped him as his hips bucked once, twice against empty air. Stripes of white shot across his own stomach and chest, hot and sudden, a humiliating, effortless release.
He slumped, panting, covered in his own spend.
Giana’s jaw was slack. “Whoa.”
“See?” Lily said, her voice laced with lazy power. “Parlor tricks. I can make him drip like a faucet from across the room. I could make him fuck that pizza box if I wanted to waste the energy.” She glanced at Theo’s shocked, glistening torso. “Clean yourself up. You’re a mess.”
Theo, trembling, reached for a napkin from the pizza box.
Giana’s mind, however, was already racing down a new track. Her brows knitted in earnest thought. “Could you… I mean, is there magic for, like, adjustments?”
Lily arched an eyebrow. “Adjustments.”
“Yeah. Like…” Giana bit her lip, then plowed ahead. “My back hurts. All the time. I’m really top-heavy. My bras cost, like, a million dollars. I always thought, if I could just… balance out. You know?” She shifted, turning slightly to gesture at her own rear, ample but utterly overshadowed by the shelf of her chest. “Could you make this bigger? So it matches?”
Theo froze, the soiled napkin in his hand. “Giana, no, that’s—you can’t just—Lily, don’t you dare—”
Lily was off the chair in a fluid motion. She was in front of Giana, her eyes wide and hungry, her hands already hovering over Giana’s robed hips. “Oh, you perfect, glorious, genius bimbo,” she breathed, her voice thick with lust. “You want an ass? A real, monstrous, jiggly wagon? I can give you an ass that’ll make statues weep.”
“Lily!” Theo tried to stand, panic rising.
Lily didn’t even look at him. One hand shot out, grabbed a fistful of his hair, and yanked him forward, smothering his protests into the deep, hot canyon of her cleavage. Her skin smelled of sweat and arousal. He struggled, but her grip was iron.
He felt the broad, wet scrape of her tongue up the side of his face, from jaw to temple, a possessive, silencing mark.
“Hush, toy,” she murmured into his ear, her voice vibrating through her chest into his skull. “The grown-ups are talking magic.” She released his hair and pushed him back onto the floor.
She turned her full, terrifying attention back to Giana, cupping the girl’s face. “Of course I can, tits. It’ll be my masterpiece. But magic like this… it needs a charge. A big, sloppy, biological battery.” Her grin was all fangs and promise. “You’re gonna help me drain him dry. And then, sweetheart, you’re gonna have an ass so fat you’ll need a map to find your own pussy.”