Alright, the final chapter. It sounds like 2B and 1B are the choices people would like to see. So how a combination of them both?
The satyr and the demon met in the sunroom, the overgrown garden seen through the glass walls, though the room was sweltering with the heat necessary for the demon to keep moving. “What has it been now, fifty years?” the demon asked.
“Oh, what’s fifty years to immortals?” the satyr replied with a chuckle.
“You call being turned to stone immortal?” the demon shot back, “That wasn’t what I asked for.”
“Now, if I recall correctly,” the satyr said, “you asked for unlimited power and immortality. Well, demons are by far the most powerful creatures in the multiverse, and that little stone skin enchantment makes you, well, fairly invulnerable, if not without a few weaknesses.”
The demon glowered at him, “Well, I’ve had a few hours to go over my notes, and I think I know what to do about this stone problem,” he said, “but first, I think I need to do something about you, and keep you out of trouble.”
“Ha, well you’d have to get a hold of me first,” the satyr said, “and song travels faster than you ever will.”
“Oh I think I can resist one or two of your merry melodies,” the demon said.
“Oh do you? Well, then why don’t you have a listen?” the satyr said, picked up his pipes and started to play. The demon readied his mental defenses, expecting the satyr to try and change him back into a mortal. Fifty years earlier, he’d been human and acquired a real satyr by chance from an excavation in Greece, and while the years had crawled by, he had no interest in returning to that sorry existence. However, much to his surprise, the song slipped right past his defenses, and it took him a few moment to realize why. He’d tailored his mental wall to protect his demonic nature–but the satyr had no intention of returning him to normal, and now it was too late for the demon to resist, and he started to dance.
The satyr laughed, and watched as the demon’s muscular form started to bubble and shift, fat packing itself on his body, the dominating drive in him disipating and replaced with simple…laziness. The inertia of his change was pushing against the satyr’s song, and suddenly moving seemed too difficult. Better to sit and loll about. Better to feast, better to be lazy, and then the demon saw what the satyr had planned for him. He was certainly still a demon, however not the demon of domination and lust he had been. Now, the only things that interested him were sloth, filth, and gluttony. Well, all of those, and sex, but not domineering, controlling sex. He wanted to be used, he wanted to be filled. He wanted to be passive while hordes of men used his holes as much as they could. He wanted to feast on their seed, on their virility. Finally, the change climaxed, and he could dance no more, crashing to the floor, a mass of fat, stinking to high heaven, drool leaking down his multiple stone chins, his eyes drawn directly to the pig cock of the satyr’s minion.
“Well my pet, why don’t you go ahead and give our demon friend his first meal?” the satyr said, and Ken snorted, stomping over, grabbing the back of the demon’s head and ramming his cock down his throat.
The demon sucked–he was so hungry, but…but he could sense that this wasn’t over. No, he may not be the demon he was, but he still had power, he could sense it, and he wasn’t about to let the satyr get away with this. He sucked on the monster’s cock, and he realized that it wasn’t only cum he was drawing from him–it was his sexual power. He sucked, and too late, Ken realized something was wrong. His muscles began to atrophy, his form softening and fattening up. In a panic he tried to pull himself away from the demon’s maw, but his fangs clamped down on his cock, sucking harder, and his balls, his massive bull balls, the demon was draining them dry, until the shriveled up entirely, leaving him as nothing more than a steer, a fat hog who collapsed next to his new, demonic master, licking the filthy stone folds of the demon’s body, and the satyr just watched, slack jawed.
Something was wrong–he needed to play a song, he needed to get out of this mess, but something was holding him in place, and it was…a stench. The demon’s rancid musk held him in place, and then began drawing him closer to him, the satyr’s mind slowly degrading as he approached, all thoughts beyond servicing his filthy master disappearing from his mind, but when he knelt down to clean him, the master pushed him away.
“Please…please master, please may I serve you?” the satyr groveled.
“Release me from this stone curse, and you may serve me until the end of days, slave.” the demon said, and the satyr whipped out his pipes, undoing his old work, the demon’s stone skin softening into real flesh, red, but covered with muck and filth. When the satyr finished, he dug into the demon’s folds, reveling in the joy’s of service, and the demon took the pipes, opened his maw wide and swallowed them whole.
Grinning, the demon gave a lilting whistle, the satyr’s powers of song now his own, and he felt himself gain enough lightness that he could move. There were still three men in the house after all–and he ought to make sure that they were all fully under his control before resting.
None of the fraternity pledges returned to campus the next morning, and despite a citywide search for the four of them, not a single trace of them was found, not even when the police searched old Greywall Manor. However, that isn’t to say that the four of them were gone, by any means, but the demon was biding his time, and building his might, until he could begin expanding his influence beyond the house.
Ken, the piggish minotaur, and the satyr were now the demon’s personal pets, generally following at his heels, eager for a chance to serve the master, who eclipsed everything else in importance.
As much as it pained the demon to do so, he needed to keep both Dan and David muscular, and working the furnace. However, he did enjoy making it impossible for either one of the men to ever clean themselves, and the two are now lovers, or rather, David is Dan’s bitch, the ugly troll happily servicing the bigger brute’s cock whenever he gets a chance, as well as serving as their toilet on their twenty hour work shifts.
Bob, however, was much more to the demon’s liking. While he was sad to see Butler go, he decided that having a human puppet around might prove useful. Indeed, in a few months, when an eccentric, obese redneck named Bubba Bob, who’d recently won the lottery, decided to buy Greywall Manor and convert it into a bed and breakfast, the town didn’t really mind. In fact, they hoped that the new addition would improve the local economy, and make for a few positive changes around town. But they had no idea what sort of changes the demon had in mind.
Thanks for all of your suggestions and participation! This was a whole lot of fun, and something I’d like to do again in the future. However, for now, I need to focus on some commissions, but don’t expect the blog to be silent.