A Deal with the Devil Pt. 03

Denise takes Gwen's hands into hers stroking them lightly. "Mine I suppose," Gwen whispers trying vainly to pull her hands out of the Devil's vise like grip.

"Second of all, and maybe more importantly, while I admit your son did pass on, didn't I, after all, give you something in return for his passing? Did I not give you one incredibly handsome grandson, Lance, and one grandson slash son the sweet adorable Luke?"

"Yes you did," Gwen says in a small voice knowing she would not trade either Luke or Lance for anyone or anything.

"All right then. And as far as for me not being welcome." Denise leans back smiling disarmingly at Gwen. "Don't I get to spend any time with my grandson, Gwen? What . . . you get Lance all to yourself?"

"What do you mean your grandson?" Gwen demands growing visibly upset.

"It's really quite simple. Avery, your best friend, and Lance's mother, is actually my daughter, Gwen."

"I . . . what--" Gwen is too dumbfounded to finish whatever the hell she was going to say.

"Let me explain. How old is your best friend, Gwen? I lose track of time with so much mischief always on my plate you know."

"Forty-four, I think."

"OK so it was roughly 45 years ago that one night being a bit bored and lonely I came to this earthly realm and found myself a plaything for the night. A handsome young stud who I proceeded to seduce at some bar and then let him take me back to his place. He fucked the shit out of me all night long and I . . . don't know, I guess I had a bit of an accident, and allowed myself to become pregnant with his child."

"Avery?"

"Yes. I gave birth and then as I simply don't have time to be a good mother I gave her, quite ironically, to a Catholic Church orphanage. She grew up, went into nursing, met you, and the rest, as they say, is history."

"I thought for a long time she was your minion. I never dreamed she could be your daughter."

"She is my minion. Unwittingly maybe, but nevertheless she does my bidding without really realizing it. I have a way of manipulating people and things to my advantage. More I cannot say . . . will not say."

"So Lance is your grandson . . . our grandson I guess I mean."

"Exactly."

At this very moment Lance walks into the room. He comes to a complete halt when he sees the beautiful lady with raven dark hair dressed in the black satin robe sitting on the couch next to his Auntie Gwen.

"What the hell. Who is this? I didn't hear anyone knocking at the door. And it's so late?"

Gwen gets up hurrying over to him. "Shh hon, let me explain."

"Yes, you do that, while I go freshen up in the bathroom and then do a bit of rearranging in the bedroom."

Lance continues to stare at Denise as she strides past him on the way to the bathroom. Gwen steers him over to the couch and spends the next few minutes trying to gently break it to him that the beautiful creature he just saw was indeed a creature—the Devil herself, in fact. And then came the hard part: explaining how he was her grandson and his mother the Devil's daughter.

Lance still thinks Gwen is pulling his leg when Denise opens the bedroom door, popping her head out announcing loudly, "I see the boy needs a bit of proof. Send him here and I will talk to him, maybe show him a thing or two."

"You better go talk to her honey."

"But Nana Gwen you are coming with me right?"

"No I will stay here unless I am told otherwise. Trust me she is the Devil, Lance."

"She is right, Lance. I can't have her in the bedroom and ruin my surprise," Denise crows cheerily.

First five minutes, and then ten minutes pass, and Gwen is starting to get worried as all she can think of is the hungry look on Denise's face when she uttered those chilling words "Don't I get to play with my grandson too."

Finally, just as she was about to go check on him, Denise comes strutting out of the bedroom. "He understands everything perfectly now, Gwen, and is waiting for us in the bedroom."

"He is. What did you tell him?" Gwen demands.

"I don't reveal secrets hon. Please, no more annoying questions or you shall force my hand. Must I put on a display of power for you or are you going to be good and do as you are told."

"Seems I haven't much choice."

"You don't. Now, I have a present for you," Denise replies dropping a shoe box on the couch next to her.

"Shoes?"

"Heels to be precise. Put them on."

They were heels alright. The six inch platform sandals, adorned with small circular metallic studs all along the straps, are both sexy and slutty as hell.

Gwen slowly puts the shoes on hoping they won't fit as Denise stands there tapping her foot impatiently. Of course, they fit perfectly.

Denise smirks helping Gwen to her feet. "Jesus Denise I can barely walk in these things." Gwen cries clutching Denise's arm for support.

"I think that is why I picked them out for you hon . . . well, that and the fact I am sure Lance will enjoy them."

Gwen ignores the bait and instead only asks where the Devil is taking her.

"But of course to the bedroom my dear. Its playtime."

"You are going to make me do . . . something . . . naughty with my grandson, Denise, no way, I will not do--" Gwen yanks her hand out of Denise's grip a bit of sudden anger flaring up inside of her.

"Silence!! Your insolence will not be tolerated Gwen. Look, if you have regrets with a snap of my fingers I can put you back in my office to that very moment when you kissed me and sealed your fate. I will allow you a redo if you want and then you can take your chances with the doctors and your uncaring God. Of course, no more Lance, no more Luke, all that shall be gone as will your beautiful lifelong friendship with my daughter Avery. Decide now!!"

Denise raises one hand ready to snap Gwen back to another fate if you only she agrees. Gwen stares at Denise knowing she is deadly serious. After a moment's hesitation Gwen shakes her head no, and allows herself to be lead toward the bedroom.

Once inside the dark bedroom the audible click of the door being locked seals Gwen's fate as she looks about the room unable to see anything in the pronounced darkness. She also finds it odd hearing the loud click of a lock as she simply doesn't remember the door having a lock on it

Momentarily thrown off balance by the both the silence and darkness, Gwen stands still waiting. She seems all alone in the darkness as Denise appears to have vanished into thin air. One minute she was there leading her into the bedroom, and then as soon as the door shut, she was gone.

Someone grabs her hand and she jumps. "It's OK, Nana Gwen, it's me."

"Lance, why is it so dark? I can barely see a thing."

Lance takes her hand guiding her across the dark bedroom. "Shh, no questions. Her orders, just follow me."

"Wher--" Gwen starts to ask where they were going before she claps her mouth shut. If the Devil says no questions—then no questions.

A minute later Gwen is sitting on a comfortable high back cushioned chair stuck in the corner of the dark bedroom which seems much bigger than she remembers from earlier. Strangely enough, she also doesn't remember the cabin's bedroom having a chair in the first place. Even more strange is the instructions Lance hurriedly whispers to her.

She is to sit in her chair and dare not move from it. She is to make no noise whatsoever, and most importantly, make no attempt to interfere with whatever she might see. Finally, in one final bit of oddity, he thrusts a small glass of wine, she assumes it to be wine, into her hand and tells her to drink it right away.

Obeying she downs the delicious wine in one swallow. Lance takes the glass from her hand then whispers to her.

"Get comfortable Nana, lay your head back and relax."

"Hmm, yes I think that is a good idea." After downing the wine, maybe it was drugged, she suddenly feels extremely dizzy. No sooner does she rest her head against the cushioned back of the chair than she feels alone.

She whispers Lance's name, before reaching out to the spot where he was just sitting next to her. There is no response and her hands find nothing but dead air. It's as if he has vanished into thin air also. Gwen lets out an audible sigh knowing the Devil is playing tricks on her.

Closing her eyes she dozes off in a matter of mere seconds. A bit later, how long she couldn't rightly say, she slowly comes awake.

Blinking her eyes, she looks around the bedroom. It is now bathed in soft light coming from several flickering wall torches. "Wow talk about showing off," Gwen mumbles as the cabin's quaint former bedroom is no more. Instead, it has been replaced by a rendition of what could be a romantic fairy tale bedroom from some bygone era.

She can now observe the crush red velvet high backed chair she fell asleep on, along with a pair of elegant matching nightstands on either side of the bed. Both nightstands have two large golden candelabras resting on them aglow with a half dozen or so candles casting an eerie glow on an enormous four poster bed with an overhead canopy.

Across from the bed, covering the entirety of one wall, is an old fashioned stone fireplace. Flames are dancing in the fireplace revealing a snow white square shaped rug spread out in front of it.

At first, Gwen could not hear any sounds, but then quite suddenly, she can hear whispers coming from across the bedroom. Turning her head, searching, she eventually spots them across the room sitting cuddled on a red velvet sitting couch.

Gwen wishes she could join them. The bedroom has grown quite cold since she fell asleep. She leans forward hoping to hear what they are saying, before she realizes it's not necessary. Although they are whispering, she can hear them clearly even from across the room.

It's apparent the Devil wants her to be privy to their conversation just as it soon becomes quite apparent that Lance has no idea she is in the room with them.

"I am sorry Nana Denise. I really don't think I could relax enough to enjoy a massage. It would be nice I'm sure, but it would also just bring back a lot of painful memories of . . . her. Of the way she used to tease me by giving me such nice massages before . . ." His voice trails off as he pushes himself up into a sitting position.

"Before what, Lance? Come on tell your Nana D. the truth." She fiddles with the tie on her robe before pushing up those rather ugly looking black horned rim glasses she is now wearing. In addition, to the glasses she has her lovely long dark hair pinned up behind her ear. It's clear to Gwen, she is trying to downplay her looks, but to what purpose?

"Before she would just stop the massage . . . abruptly. Just when it was getting good." After a pause to shrug his shoulders his continues talking. "I complained once, and she just laughed, and promised next time she wouldn't stop so sudden and that there would be more."

"Yeah, sounds like your Nana Gwen alright. Always promising more than she delivers. But there never was more . . . was there sweetie?"

"No, never."

Gwen hears him let out an audible sigh as he seems almost on the verge of tears. This sensitive side he is revealing to his Nana D. fills Gwen with a jealousy as she thought it was only reserved for her.

Gwen is also experiencing a fair amount of guilt for what he told his Nana D. was, in fact, the cold hearted truth. She did give Lance more than a few really nice massages over the years. But being the good Catholic girl she was whenever she sensed he might be enjoying her massage too much she would scale it back, sometimes slowly, sometimes more abruptly, in a manner that he probably thought was her teasing him. In fact, it was just her being scared of going for what she really wanted.

"Oh you poor baby." Denise reaches out, stroking the side of his face with one of her long perfect blood red fingernails. Lance takes her hand and kisses it softly whispering, "Thank you for understanding."

"Oh I understand more than you could ever imagine Lance honey. And right now I understand . . ." Rising to her feet, she extends him a helping hand guiding him to his feet. "You are cold and in need of my love and comfort. Come, let's go relax by the warm fire and we can talk some more."

From across the room, Gwen just can't help herself. Her eyes fixate on her young grandson's bare chest. The way it ripples when he moves across the room sends shivers up her spine. She had never seen him looking so handsome, so purely desirable that is, in his youthful maleness as he does tonight here in this dark romantic bedroom.

Lance sits down on the large white rug in front of the fireplace shivering noticeably. "Jesus it's cold in your bedroom Nana D."

Denise circles the rug once, like a shark circling its prey maybe, and then sinks down next to him. "I know sweetie. I like it that way. It helps me sleep. But don't worry I maybe have an idea that will help warm you up."

"You do."

"Yes, although you already declined me once I am still hoping that just maybe you will reconsider and let me give you an extra special massage. One that I promise . . ." Denise makes it a point to stare across the room at Gwen for just a brief instance before she continues. "Will be so good that you will not be distracted by any bitter memories of your Nana Gwen. Unlike her, I am not afraid to push the limits when it comes to giving my handsome young grandson a massage."

Gwen wants to scream and yell, wants to tell him not to give in to the Devil's temptations, but she is under orders—orders she is afraid to violate—to stay silent.

"So what do you say hon, will you let your Nana D. give you a nice full body massage?" She removes those thick horn rimmed glasses while staring at him upping her beauty quotation by about a degree of ten.

Lance wants to say no. He had sworn a solemn pledge to save himself for his one and only true love—his mom's best friend—his sweet Auntie Gwen. He swore this pledge on his 16^th birthday faithfully honoring it ever since. Knowing now she is his grandmother does nothing to his resolve in wanting to honor his pledge. His vow to stay celibate will remain in force until he feels there is absolutely no chance of ever being with her.

Up until this night, despite his boasts of being with many a girl, he is still a pure and wholesome virgin, despite being well past his 18^th birthday. Those fanciful boasts were simply false claims designed with the simple hope that it would make his Auntie Gwen jealous.

He stares at her, his resolve to decline his Nana D.'s offer weakened, but still intact, when she patiently reaches up and undoes the tie that is keeping her hair pinned up. She shakes her head softly allowing her beautiful dark hair to come cascading down weakening his resolve even further.

Lances senses his Nana D. is trying to seduce him now that they are alone. He is not sure what the hell happened to his Nana Gwen as she simply disappeared. He remembers leading her across the bedroom and asking her to sit down. After that things started to get fuzzy. He remembers going to the bathroom, returning and there was his Nana D. waiting on the sitting coach for him.

He tried to ask where his Nana Gwen went, but his Nana D. simply ignored his questions and steered the conversation into its present direction. Somehow he seemed powerless to resist the change of direction.

After feeding him a glass of her red wine she got him talking while the distinctive impression that his Nana Gwen simply abandoned him came creeping over him.

Now, despite his Nana D.'s tempting offer, Lance screws up his courage, declining again her offer to give him a massage. Her reaction to being denied is not something he would have anticipated.

Tears from the Devil? Lance ponders if such a thing is possible watching her lips quivering as she turns her head away swiping a hand delicately over her eyes. Turning back she looks at him tears staining her pretty face.

"Oh, Nana D. I . . . don't cry. Please." He takes her hands gently into his moving closer to her.

"I lose again, I guess. All I wanted to do is just ease your pain a bit and make you forget about her. I really feel like there is a bit of a rivalry going on between us for your attentions and I'm coming out on the short end."

"No, Nana D., it's not like that. It's just . . ." His voice trails off as he contemplates if he should really finish his thought.

"Tell me what you are thinking honey. I sense it's important. Can't you be honest with me? Please." She squeezes his hand tightly as she gazes at him with those alluring green eyes of hers.

"OK, I will be honest. It's just you're the Devil aren't you?"

She lets his hands slip out of hers before sighing heavily. "Yes, honey I am, but well . . . It's hard to explain but I'll try. You see when I take this form, my human form as you see now I am as much human as you, as your Nana Gwen, as anyone."

"Really?"

"Yes, baby. Do you know what that means?"

Lance shakes his head no wondering if this "fear" of his beautiful Nana D. might be unfounded.

"It simply means I have a heart, like you. I have feelings and emotions, like you. I can feel pain, hurt, loss, jealousy; the whole range of human emotions . . . just the same as you." She pauses as more tears come spilling out of her eyes.

"Oh Nana D. please don--"

"Shh" Reaching out, she touches a finger to his lips causing him to fall silent.

"Let me finish. But most important I can feel love and that, Lance, sweetheart, is what I feel for you. Pure, undying love in all its glory and pain."

She uses the tie of her robe to blot the tears rolling down each cheek before leaning back and looking at him hoping her words have the desired effect.

"Nana D. I don't understand how you can love me. I mean we just met tonight."

"It's true we have just met tonight, here on this level of reality, but in truth I have been watching over you since you were born and in those long 18 years I have come to know you deeply, but more importantly to love you fiercely."

"You have?"

"Yes, pardon my words, but God yes, Lance and now, tonight, I am free to show you my truest heart which belongs totally to you."

Lance turns away stunned. Her words seem so sincere. If she is faking she is the world's best actress. He doesn't know what to say as he wonders if it really could be true—these kind hearted words of deep affection for him.

"I can see your confusion, Lance. I understand you are scared. It's natural being who I am. Maybe though I have an idea to show you that both my words and my feelings are real and true."

"How?" he says hopefully. He would welcome any chance for her to clear up his doubts. The truth is his own feelings for her have been growing in leaps and bounds ever since he first laid eyes upon her. Searching his heart he wants to love his Nana D.

"Lay back, relax and open your heart to what I am about to whisper to it."

Lance sinks back onto the plush rug. It feels incredibly comfortable on his bare back—like he is floating on a clouds formed in heaven. The irony is not lost on him as he senses her coming nearer.

He feels the lightest of kisses on first his forehead as the intoxicating smell of her perfume fills his nostrils.

"Does that feel real?" she breaths.

He nods his head slightly. Her lovely hair brushes against his bare chest tickling him as she moves her lips to his cheek. Her kiss there is sweet and delicate, before she moves to his other cheek, and applies another feathery kiss.

"And those, baby do they feel real."

"Y-yes," Lance manages to whisper.

There is a brief pause. He can feel her lips so near. She draws the tension out as she brings one hand up and delicately begins stroking his chest. His heart is thudding as her lips come down and brush his own ever so lightly.