It’s happening again, I can feel it. One of them has come for me. 

 

Its hand wraps around my forearm over the covers as I lay snoozing in bed. Bolting up, I swipe it away, hearing and seeing nothing, breathing rapidly and hoping I’m imagining things. Maybe it was a dream. Sleep paralysis. Anything but what I think it is.

 

But no. As I try to get comfortable again it returns, gripping and laying hands on me, sliding them down my body toward my hips. Tears spring from my eyes and as they do, my phone lights up on the dresser beside me. Rather than vibrating as usual, a crackle of static streams through the speaker. ‘INCOMING CALL’ blares on the screen. The moment I reach out, it goes silent.

 

Shit.

 

It’s no small quandary when one of them takes up residence within a woman. Swallowed by a sea of pleasure, she’s seduced to the doorstep of madness by the presence, losing all control over her body and mind as she slips. Beyond that door lies the erasure of the self—a lifetime of waking death viewed from the confines of a spent, hollow shell. If this demon succeeds in accomplishing its aims, it will be the end of me.

 

My fingers tingle, magnetically drawn toward my hard, perked nipples and the lips of my folds, already trickling with uncontrollable desire. Sparkling clouds of cotton candy creep in along the edges of my mind. I yearn to give in and let it reign victorious as I fight the dreadful, melting sensation of ease. 

 

When these spirits first began passing through our little Ohio town, no one believed their victims. People called the women crazy, blaming it on their hormones or the stars, or accused them of seeking attention. But as more and more were dragged to insanity and the grip of evil grew in power, we began to realize the situation wasn’t what it seemed. This plague would overtake us if we let it, leaving our men and their children with no one but each other. 

 

My husband Elias, he’s a believer. A man of perception with a sense for these things, heedful of the spirit world. He’s well aware, as I am, particularly since my first encounter, of the predators roaming this earthly realm in search of vulnerable vessels. They seek hosts in whose depths they can nestle and sow their wicked poison, wreaking revenge on all that’s feminine.

 

I need him. I need him now. Time is of the essence.

 

Falling from the bed to the floor, shaking violently, I crawl toward the open door of our bedroom and pull myself up by the edge of the dresser, peering down the hallway. Elias walks into the living room clad in jeans and a black T-shirt and looks straight at me as the backdoor slams shut behind him, just in from tending the crops. I wrap my arms around my stomach and hiccup a sob.

 

“It’s here. One of them… it’s h-happening again.”

 

“I know, honey.” Nodding slightly, dusky eyes fixed on mine, he tosses his hat and work gloves aside and begins moving toward me. “I felt it.”

 

On instinct, I recede back into the bedroom, squeezing my eyes shut and sinking to the floor, buzzing with fear all the way to my bones. I know what he has to do and it won’t be kind.

 

He pushes the door wide open and slowly approaches, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, preparing to take hold of the situation. I’m no longer just his wife. I’m now his enemy too. Failure on his part will mean the end of my well-being, our marriage, our life together. All of it, gone overnight.

 

“Come here, Maisy,” he tells me, quiet and stern, giving me a chance to cooperate.

 

I look up at him with tears streaming down my face, bottom lip trembling, frozen where I crouch. I’m not ready. Then again, I don’t suppose it’s possible to prepare for such a thing. As much as I detest the fact of the matter, I don’t have the strength to fight this alone. It’s in his hands now.

 

His breath deepens as he steps forward. Reaching down to lift me by the arm, he stands me up and turns me around while I sob and shake my head in despair.

 

“I’m not ready. I don’t—I don’t want it!”

 

Wrapping his long left arm around my torso, holding me there, he bunches up my satin nighty at my waist and pulls down my panties, pressing gentle lips to the back of my head.

 

“I’m sorry, honey,” he whispers. 

 

A procession of hard, merciless swats slaps against my bare cheeks. The pain is so abrupt, I clutch the arm that holds me and shriek into his bicep.

 

“AAAaaaaooooww! Ow ow ow!!!”

 

There’s no other way. None I’d be able to safely heal from, anyway. He has to.

 

The demons—they’re spirits of men who can’t pass on, tethered to this plane by unresolved hatred for those they couldn’t possess during life. In death, they work their sorcery to enchant the sorts of women they’ve always desired, forging an intimate connection while they consume us from the inside. Spitting out what’s left once they’ve had their fill, they abandon our bodies in search of new victims. Until their souls overcome their bitter zest for control over those they spite, they will not find peace. Their unfinished business is not welcome in the underworld. 

 

It sensed my fertility. The essence of sexuality emanating from my pores, carried by the air. They smell it like sharks to blood. My temple is a pliant space to be corrupted, cushy and voluptuous. Ripened fruit. To set me free, Elias must show my invader this vessel has been claimed—it is his—and is not up for bargain.

 

The sting of each strike hits blow upon blow and I thrash wildly, dancing from foot to foot, seeking to escape the agony I know is necessary. If my husband doesn’t take me… mark me... the presence will get comfortable and make itself at home.

 

“Oww! Ow! No no no!!”

 

He pauses to kiss the side of my forehead and guide me toward our bed in his arms. Sitting, he pulls me between his legs and down over his left thigh, encircling my waist to hug me to his side. The spanking starts again, so forceful that I jump with each smack, propelled by the severity. He holds me tightly in place, seeking to bruise. This is not for my pleasure.

 

Burying my face in the blanket, I bunch its fabric in my fists, feeling my toes graze our hardwood floor while I kick. I fight Elias with all my strength as the demon takes hold, grappling to have its way. Fragrant slickness, wet and delectable, runs shimmering down my inner thighs, soaking the leg of my husband’s jeans. The smell of sex fills the room.

 

“Not in this house,” he murmurs, grunting possessively here and there. “You won’t have my wife.”

 

His thick middle finger suddenly penetrates my entrance and glides firmly over the grooves of ribbed flesh, seizing upon the pleasure the shadow has awakened and is using to pull me under. Two fingers lightly pinch and slide along the sides of my clit, eventually centering in to swirl circles around it. Determined to hijack the lurid darkness striving to destroy me, Elias brings me to orgasm before the presence can, wrenching back control. I moan into the blanket, doing all I can to expel what lurks within by robbing it of attention. Elias Elias Elias...

 

As I gasp and descend from the heights of ecstasy, the layers of shimmering cloud attempting to envelop me recede slightly, providing momentary relief from the onslaught. It won’t be enough. I immediately feel it clawing back with rabid determination, now aware of the savvy of its rival.

 

“So beautiful and soft,” It croons sweetly in my head, showering me with praise and promises of eternal satisfaction. “You’ll never be alone again… never be sad… not while I’m inside you...”

 

“Help me,” I weep as Elias rolls me onto my back. “It’s coming b-back. It’s t-talking to me.”

 

“I know. It’s okay.” He nods, lips parted, glancing back and forth between my left eye and my right. “I’m here. I won’t let it take you.”

 

He bends me over to spank me in each room of our house, one after the other. The wooden spoon, in the kitchen. The bath brush, next to our tub. The birch, in the living room. The cane, in his study. The paddle, in the guest room. It’s a message to the presence: You’re not welcome anywhere in our home. I blubber through each step of the ritual as my skin swells and hardens, burning and sore.

 

“OWW! Ow! It hurts!!” 

 

“I know, sweetheart. It has to.”

 

In spite of the pain, desperation builds within me again. A primal need to touch myself and relieve the urges spun by the shadow. Then I begin to hear them… the incantations. Steady chanting worms through my mind, designed to lull me and soothe my panic. My breasts and clit are so tender with arousal, I’m practically bursting from within myself, radiating luscious iridescence. Sin masquerades through my veins as divinity.

 

“Elias… please… I need… I need you to—!”

 

Unable to keep control, I reach underneath myself as I’m bent over the bed in our guest room, finding my soaked little bud and rubbing it with my fingers while Elias is putting the paddle to use. He drops it and swiftly pulls me onto all fours, lifting my bottom and pressing my chest down into the mattress.

 

“I’ll make you come all fucking day if that’s what it takes.”  

 

His mouth seals around my folds and he starts licking incessantly, whirling his tongue and taking charge once more. The presence wrestles for my attention, seeking to take credit and form a bond. My eyes roll back in their sockets and words I don’t understand flow freely from my lips, echoing the song of the shadow. 

 

“MAISY, don’t you dare!” Elias yells, rearing back to swat my butt with a loud SMACK. But the fever is euphoric. It’s an enticing, warm pool of bliss, sparkling and delightful. I’m falling in… falling…

 

Climax rips me back to my body once more, incited by my husband’s fingers and flickering tongue. I pant and moan and the presence sees red, vicious with jealousy, lighting me up with rage from the inside as I descend.

 

“You’re not his to pleasure anymore. You’re MINE.” 

 

I turn and lunge at Elias, screaming and tearing at his skin at the spirit’s behest, then back away sobbing and reeling for control as the room spins. He grabs me by the arm and yanks me over his thigh, still standing, whapping my crimson cheeks to further beat it out of me. The presence is winning, rapidly driving me insane.

 

“Bad girl…” Elias huffs through clenched teeth. “You know better than that. You draw it further inside you when you speak its words.”

 

Lustful rivulets of nectar continue rolling down my thighs in a steady flow. I can’t tell who’s inspiring it—the demon or Elias. My being is cracked wide open, unprotected and receptive to their dueling energies.

 

The song spills from my lips again, deepening my trance and kindling the next round of arousal. Elias picks me up and carries me into our bedroom, shaking his head.

 

“I won’t fucking have you broadcasting its blasphemy, young lady.”

 

He sets me on the floor and rifles through our closet, tossing clothes and boxes around the room, increasingly agitated as the seconds tick by. Clenching his fists, he finally pauses, head turning to the side to look down at me. 

 

“Where is it?”

 

My head lolls back and I let out a throaty, defiant chuckle, tickled by the evil. He’s looking for the ball gag—the red one he bought after the last time this happened. I hated it so much when he made me put it on to test it out that I hid it deep in a box high on the shelf. Out of sight, out of mind. I should tell him where it is. It’s in my best interest and I know it, but the presence says no.

 

“Maisy…” His lower eyelid twitches as he shakes his head. I watch his fingers slowly straighten and curl again. A glaze of sweat beads across his brow. “I won’t ask again.”

 

Truth be told, the visible tension in his jaw and his chiseled shoulders terrifies me. He could really really hurt me if he wanted to, but I’m too drunk on insubordination to cooperate. This is why the spirits often go for married women; they get off on dominating our husbands as well. All part of the game.

 

“Tell him to fuck off,” it tells me. 

 

“Fffffffuck off,” I parrot, bursting into a round of cackling while melting to the floor.

 

Squinting, drilling holes through me with sharpened pupils, Elias watches for a moment, nostrils flaring. He then turns, snatches the tawse from the closet, and hoists me up to drag me to the kitchen. 

 

He lays the leather on the table, then fetches six thin metal skewers from one of the drawers, sharp at both ends, along with a cord of twine and a pair of scissors. Turning to approach me, he sees me caressing my nipple and fingering myself and gives my ass a good swat to snap me out of it. My clit aches with overstimulation.

 

“Hold out your hands.”

 

Grinning and barely able to contain my desire to disobey, I do as he asks. He takes up the tawse and lashes my palms once, twice, thrice. Squeezing my eyes shut, I strain to hold a whimper in my chest.

 

“Don’t you touch yourself while I’m working or you’ll get it again. You hear me?”

 

Pouting and embarrassed by my lack of self-control, I rub my hands together and nod, tearful again. He’s trying to save my life and I’m too weak to reign in the demon while it frustrates the hell out of him.

 

“I’m sorry,” I mumble. 

 

He huffs through his nose, shaking his head again. “Incorrigible.”

 

I stick out my tongue when he asks and he sandwiches the back of it between two of the skewers, tying them tightly at both ends. I try to close my mouth but the thin metal prongs hit the corners where my lips meet. Elias repeats the process along the length of my tongue, binding it in place until I can’t speak. Open mouthed, I cry in pain while drool drips onto my chest.

 

“I don’t like it either, but this is what happens when you hide things from me. Should’ve thought about how dangerous that was when you did it. You know damn well this isn’t a joke.” He ties off the final length of twine and points at me, brows arched high. “Gonna spank you again for that another time, young lady.”

 

But I lose focus while he’s lecturing me, sighing a moan as my hands drift to my breasts again. He grabs me by the wrists and takes up the tawse.

 

“Maisy, NO.”

 

Thwack thwack thwack!

 

I dance on my tiptoes in pain and he slides my nighty off my shoulders, shimmying it off my body along with the panties still hugging my thighs at half mast. He turns me around and lays ten biting licks across my red fanny. Daunted but rebellious in spite of my fear, I reach up to free my tongue from its flimsy prison. 

 

Thwack thwack thwack!

 

Angry lines from each lash sear across my palms. Very different to be hit there. No cushy protection.

 

“I’m gonna need to restrain you,” he says, running a hand through his messy flop of sandy blond hair and looking around for something to bind my wrists with.

 

His patience is hanging by a thread and he’ll do it. I know he will. The prospect of having my body tied or strapped down sends the shadow into a frenzy and it roils my insides, moving me to freak out.

 

“Don’t let him trap you. Run. NOW.”

 

I heed its orders, kicking Elias in the shins, pulling my panties up, and bolting for our back door when he doubles over wincing. 

 

“Fuck. Maisy! Get back here!”

 

Nearly naked, rear-end swollen and blazing red, tongue bound, I flee from our house as fast as I can with my strawberry blond hair flowing behind me in the breeze. Hopping over rows of vegetable crops, I stumble onto my hands and knees here and there, dirtying my skin with layers of clumpy wet soil. I don’t have any particular destination in mind. It’s all instinct. Away from him, that I know.

 

Our neighbors, Jane and Mason, spot me while tilling their field on their farm next door, jaws promptly gaping in horror. Jane drops her hoe to run my way.

 

“Sweet Lord! Maisy honey, what’s happened? Mercy!” 

 

“She’ll help us,” it tells me. “Let her come to you.”

 

She covers her mouth with her hands when I sink into the soil, wailing at the top of my lungs. 

 

Mason, however—he knows better. Frozen and looking on with wide, fearful eyes, he scans my body before settling on my distraught expression. The raw purple marks peeking out from under my panties, the bound tongue, the dirt sticking to the juices coating my thighs. It hits him immediately, the danger I’ve brought with me. Like Elias, he knows what’s necessary and that running was a naughty thing indeed.

 

Jane stoops to help me slip the tight loops of twine from the sides of the skewers with shaky hands. “What on God’s green earth? Who did this to you?” They fall to the ground and I’m free, tasting a hint of blood and gasping with relief at her kind compassion. The presence curls in delight. 

 

“No, Jane! JANE! NO!” Mason yells, shaking off his stupor and breaking into a sprint. Behind me, a sharp clatter rings through the air. The three of us pause, eyes snapping toward the source.

 

With our wooden screen door slamming shut behind him after bouncing off the siding of our townhouse, Elias clomps down the steps in pursuit of me. In his left hand, he grips a looped bundle of rope. In his right, the buckle of the gag from our closet dangles between his thumb and middle finger. He points straight at me.

 

“MASON!” he yells. The boom of his voice ruffles my cells like a shockwave. “DON’T LET HER RUN.”

 

I jolt to escape once more, but Jane’s hands tighten around my upper arms, clamping down to hold me in place and study my panic as the situation dawns on her. Mason reaches us and I shove her off me, standing to spit in his face. Startled, they freeze and I jump into action, determined to evade them, but stop short when I turn to face my intended path. More neighbors have come, alerted by the commotion. Four pairs of people dash my way.

 

Heaving, desperate, I rapidly glance between them like a cornered animal before looking back to see Elias rapidly striding forth, closing the space between us. I hardly recognize my husband, eyes ablaze at the edges, staring me down with a mighty glower. It’s not me he sees, but the invader he’s determined to subdue. I’m in for it now.

 

“HOLD HER,” he tells them. They comply, seizing me from all sides as I shriek and fight.

 

“No! NO! You can’t!!” 

 

I thrash, sobbing and begging for freedom when suddenly, the incantations transmit once more, rippling from my lips, pulsating through the air in waves. The women abruptly smile and fall to the soil beside me as their eyes roll back and their hands reach under their clothes for their genitals, locked in by the shadow’s spell. Their husbands tend to them—all except Mason, who grabs me in a bear hug, caging rock hard around me. My tongue runs free, channeling the shadow’s black magic.

 

Elias arrives in a squall of fury and pushes the ball between my jaws, locking the clasp at the back of my head. He yanks me from Mason’s arms and pulls me down to the dirt, wrapping the rope in a tangle as the women recover around me, crying and holding their heads.

 

“Get her out of here! She’s too far gone!” one cries. “She’s conspiring with it to take us all!”

 

“There’s no conspiring here. She’s not herself!” Elias snaps, seeking to keep our sweet community from morphing into a mob.

 

I buck against the weight of my husband, feral and unruly while he holds me down and tightens his knots, messily binding my legs and ankles together along with my arms and wrists behind my back. My eyes rake in a line across the neighbors and I spot Dennis, a close friend of Elias’, standing alone far off from the group. He studies me with a vapid, dejected gaze and I think of Anna, his wife. One of them took her last year. He couldn’t bring himself to step in and within a day, she’d been overcome. We all saw her, writhing and oscillating between states of ecstasy and panic, or violent rage when reproached, much as I am now.

 

“If you don’t stand in the way of the pleasure it creates,” Elias had warned him, “she’ll become a slave to it. You have to keep her attention until it passes.”

 

By the time Dennis had begun to believe him, it was too late. Anna didn’t recognize him anymore. None of us. We had all become a threat to her irresistible new addiction. Within days, she was admitted to a psych ward in the city, miles and miles from here. No one’s seen her since, aside from her husband. I imagine, as he stares, his unfathomable regret.

 

The frayed ropes scratch my skin, digging in while I struggle. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to scream, but the gag muffles my cries. Visions fill my head and I see it manifest—the shadow floating in limbo. It sits, barely visible apart from its rows of sharp white teeth glittering in the darkness, peeling a shiny tangerine’s skin from its sphere of flesh in one long coil. It greedily devours each glistening segment, offering me the final carpel as juice drips from its chin. I see my hand reach out to accept its gift. I’m smiling… grateful...

 

My bottom is suddenly hoisted upward and hit with a SMACK while the side of my face squishes down into the mud. Eyes flying open, I take in Elias above me yanking my muddied panties back down to my knees to redden my rear further, determined to keep our connection firm. Our neighbors look on with a mix of concern and approval at his severe handling of me, holding their partners and feasting their eyes on my most intimate of areas. A couple of the women cry. They know after this, they’ll be taken home and bent over to receive the same treatment; marked well to fend off my intruder, lest it hop to their home to feed on their souls after fleeing my body. 

 

It’s thoroughly humiliating to be observed in this way. Elias is making an example of me. Do as I do or lose your wives. The community will speak of this in hushed whispers until the end of time, I’m sure of it. 

 

He’s the picture of authority, framed above me by a background of dark clouds in the sky, lips set in a stern line while he spanks. Always decisive, that man. Always springing into action to do what needs to be done. Always protective of me for my own good, even as I resist. It’s why I chose him. Elias doesn’t wait to be told.

 

His eyes flicker to mine and he sees me gazing up in fear and awe, taking him in.

 

“Baby…” he whispers, pausing to lean down. I moan in desire of him, eyelids fluttering. Palm flat, he pats the wet lips of my pussy, softly at first, then a bit harder. Whining and delirious, I strain against the ropes, ravenous for him to make love to me. I want him inside me rather than the hideous force pumping synthetic need through my body, unraveling the tendrils of my sanity. 

 

“That’s my girl… that’s my girl. Come back to me.” He lifts me in his arms, turning to walk back toward the house and thanking Mason with a nod over his shoulder while warning the rest. “Protect yourselves, all of you. Can’t afford to be timid around here today.”

 

They begin to turn and hurry home, terrified. All except Dennis, who looks on, planted where he stands with tears welling in his eyes.

 

I cry into Elias’ chest as he carries me through the field. He kisses my forehead, holding me close and murmuring. “We’re going to outlast this like last time. You remember, baby?”

 

I sniffle and nod. I do remember, vaguely, but that was nothing compared to this monster. Frightened of my husband’s tenacity, it gave up and fled within a half hour. Even so, my butt was sore for days. 

 

“I need your help, okay? Stay with me.”

 

At last, we approach the house. I try to avoid focusing on the voice in my head and the lure of the most intense orgasm I’ll ever experience. The shadow strokes me from the inside, buzzing deep within my flower.

 

“Give in, darling. Let me show you pleasure like you’ve never known. Eternal, unending delight, just like you deserve.”

 

Elias sets me on my feet and I teeter to keep my balance, hopping a bit to stay upright. Grabbing the hose, he sprays me down with freezing water, cleansing the mud from my hair and skin. I whimper through the gag, shivering as goosebumps spring up, carpeting my body. 

 

The presence is silenced by my sudden discomfort, tired and furious at its inability to pacify me. Its rage burns from behind my eyes, boring into Elias. He removes his muddied T-shirt and stares it down as I shudder, fortifying his intent to finish it off.

 

“I’m taking you to the shed.”

 

My eyes narrow and my aching jaws gnash the rubber ball between my teeth. It’s a terrible place, the woodshed, dark and filthy and cold. Full of spiders and other creepy crawlies. I hate it in there and Elias knows it.

 

“You’re getting the belt,” he tells me as he crouches to wash between my legs. The water flows down my skin, soaking the panties clinging to the rope around my ankles.

 

Fear keeps me focused as he carries me but beneath my despair, my love for him glows, shining blinding light over the shadow’s hold. Nuzzling the fuzz of his naked chest, I inhale his earthy scent, wanting more than anything to press my lips to his sun-kissed skin. To feel his length sink deep between my folds and make space, filling me completely. To lay in his arms while we sleep, once this is all over.

 

Inside, it’s just as horrid as I remember, decorated with cobwebs at every nook and cranny. Elias sits me on the table where he works and I wince when its splinters poke at my ravaged tush. The sawhorse is there in the corner, as always, stored for occasions such as these. He pulls it to the center of the space and covers it with an old torn blanket to cushion the wood from biting into my hips when he bends me over it. He then turns and approaches me, taking my face in his hands, running his thumbs along the straps of the gag.

 

“I want to take this off, I’m sure it’s painful. But I need you to resist its words. I need you to listen to me, not it. Can you do that, baby?”

 

I nod shakily, unsure of myself. Its voice echoes through my mind, nearly indistinguishable from my own thoughts, making a last stand while its strength fades.

 

His fingers undo the clasp and remove the gag from my mouth. I shift my jaw from side to side a few times, opening and closing. Ouch. Setting it aside, Elias pulls me into a kiss, lighting my heart on fire. 

 

“I love you,” he whispers when he sets my lips free, resting his forehead against mine.

 

Tears stream down my cheeks and I want to tell him the same, but my head is aching too hard with the shame and intensity of it all. Sniffling, I huff a few shy breaths and feel my face redden in his hands.

 

“You’re gonna be okay,” he says, wiping his thumbs over my tears to smear them away. Gingerly, he carries me to the sawhorse and bends me over it at my waist, perpendicular to its frame. Loosening the rope around my legs and spreading them wide, he flings my drenched panties to the side and re-ties my ankles at the feet of the structure. I’m open to him, watching from upside-down as he reaches for the worn-in belt hanging from a nail in the wall. He folds it over, approaches me from behind, and rears back.

 

Whoosh-CRACK!

 

The first lash lands, ripping fresh torment across my wet cheeks. Droplets of water fall from my skin into the dirt. It’s so cold… everything but my burning tush.

 

Whoosh-CRACK!

 

A rough scream bursts from my throat as I feel the leather snap, catching the edge of my labia.

 

“Owww-owch! God!”

 

The demon whines in misery, livid with me for ignoring it over and over in spite of the pleasure it’s attempted to provide. At the vortex of my being, I feel it begin to surrender.

 

Whoosh-CRACK!

 

“Maisy.” His deep voice is quiet and calm now. Controlled.

 

“Yes, y-yes?” I gasp.

 

“Are you with me, honey?”

 

“Yes,” I sob. “You only. I’m yours! Please!”

 

Whoosh-CRACK!

 

My bawling reverberates off the sides of the shed, splitting through the damp grime hovering in the air. A black spider in the corner flinches all eight legs, curling in on itself.

 

“Do you want what it offers?” He’s practically whispering, making me strain to hear him over the sound of my heaving breaths and the throb of my heartbeat thundering in my ears.

 

“No, I want it gone!” I cry, hoarse as my voice runs ragged.

 

Whoosh-CRACK!

 

“Beg me. I want to hear you. Tell me you want this from me.”

 

Whoosh-CRACK!

 

“PLEASE! PLEASE!! I do!! Make it leave me alone!”

 

A few dozen more licks and the belt falls to the dirt. Convinced of my loyalty, he unties me and hauls me onto the table on my back. His long fingers tangle through my hair at the back of my head and yank me in for a rough, hot kiss. Teeth bite at my lower lip and he grabs my breast, squeezing my nipple tightly between the sides of his fingers. 

 

“Mine,” he growls against my lips, nails digging into my scalp where he holds my hair. “You’re ALL mine. I won’t let you forget it.”

 

I hear his zipper unfurl and the smooth, rounded head of his cock meets my entrance. We lock eyes when he penetrates, panting in tandem while he sinks in deep. I cry and pull in sips of air until my lungs can’t take any more.

 

The voice of the presence shrinks to a weak rasp in the back of my mind. There is nothing, nothing but Elias and those rich, dark eyes that moor me to home. His hands hold me steady, keeping me firmly in place, fingertips pressing hard into the supple curve of my hip. The way his breath hitches, heavy and full while he fucks me, smoothly sliding in and out in long strokes… I’m lost in it… lost in his song. His spell. 

 

The moment Elias releases his seed, definitively asserting his claim, all goes silent inside me. Defeated, bitter whispers fade into nothingness. I hear them as my husband’s trembling arms pull me to his chest, but pay them no heed. Warmth spreads through me from head to toe and every muscle in my body goes slack as waves of comfort send me into the grip of an urgent, enveloping slumber.

 

Will I ever wake up?

 

~*~

 

“Maisy?”

 

His voice trickles in first, wrought with worry.

 

“Maisy? You okay? Talk to me.”

 

Gentle fingers trail over my skin, kind as they glide. The scent of lavender fills my nostrils and I realize my hair’s damp, freshly washed. Skin’s clean. Then the pain registers.

 

“Mmf… fuck. Everything hurts.”

 

Elias’ lips kiss my forehead and my eyes blink open. He has me in our bed cradled in his arms, caressing me with kind hands. Huffing a clipped sigh of relief, he looks down at me, studying my gaze.

 

“What happened?” Wincing, I shift slightly to rub my butt, feeling the tough, raised welts there.

 

“What do you remember?” he asks, brow creased, stroking my hair.

 

I reach back into the past. There’s nothing. Nothing but yesterday and our mundane routine.

 

“I went to the market… you made chicken for dinner… what time is it?”

 

“It’s almost six. You’ve been dead asleep for hours, I was getting worried. Are you hungry?”

 

“Yeah. Um, did… did you spank me?”

 

He stifles a laugh, sniffing to hold it back while he nods.

 

“Yes, I did. Quite a lot.” He peers deep into my eyes, searching. “You don’t remember anything?”

 

My phone buzzes suddenly on the nightstand and I jolt in fear as it all comes rushing back like a tidal wave. The violation of being taken. The pain. The neighbors and their terrified faces. Holy shit.

 

Bursting into tears, I crumple into him and he pulls me in tightly, kissing my shoulder. 

 

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s gone. You’re okay now.”

 

“I’m so sorry!”

 

“Shh, it’s not your fault, honey. I’m sorry.” He leans back and strokes the side of my face, brushing tears from my temple. “Do you forgive me, for what I had to do?”

 

I nod and he does too, glancing from my eyes to my quivering lips and back again. My gratitude is endless and I strain to express it but he keeps shushing me, aware of my exhaustion and how humiliated I feel.

 

“What are we gonna do about the, the n-neighbors?” I sob. “They must hate me.”

 

“They don’t hate you, Maisy, they’re just scared. They don’t want it passing on to them.”

 

“I don’t think it will,” I say, sniffling and shaking my head.

 

“Why not?”

 

“B-because I think it… it wanted me only. It knew me, in life.”

 

He blinks, frowning. “What do you mean it knew you?”

 

It’s still hazy as I wade through the fog of memory, wondering whether what I heard was real or a hallucination. 

 

“It whispered at the end that it’d been watching me for years, while it was alive. Like, when I’d walk around town. And it said if its best wasn’t enough—if we couldn’t be together—there was no use in staying here.” 

 

His eyes narrow. “Did you recognize its voice?”

 

“No. I don’t know who it was.”

 

Elias stares another moment, then shakes his head, brushing it off. “It’s bullshit, Maisy. Everything it told you. They’ll say anything to pull you back in and get your attention.” He hugs me close, kissing my neck and murmuring. “But you didn’t fall for it. My smart girl.”

 

He goes on comforting me, saying he’ll check on the neighbors tomorrow and make things right, rubbing my bruises and massaging my skin. I listen, staring at the ceiling and bathing in his touch, wondering what’s real. What I can trust. 

 

Days pass. The neighbors come by to check on me here and there, relieved to see me as myself again, and to know for sure that the shadow has passed. Things settle back to a state resembling normal, but what I said gradually starts to eat away at Elias. He checks recent obituaries online and gets on the phone to call the homes of the handful of women around town who’ve recovered from their own instances of possession in the past, inquiring in search of consistencies. 

 

“Did it talk like it knew you? Was there anything recognizable about it?”

 

He wants to know if what I said is possible. Wants to know who tried to rip us apart. Until now, we’d all assumed these monsters were random beings passing through. Strangers, rather than our own kind. 

 

Maybe so. Maybe not.

 

I think of every man I’ve ever seen in our tiny countryside town over the course of my life. Every wink or glance. Every grin that felt just a bit too familiar. Every car that trailed mine as I drove. I wonder whether the shadow actually passed on or if it might return someday, and if any other prying eyes might be out there watching and waiting with nefarious intentions.

 

Maybe so. Maybe not.

 

I shouldn’t have told Elias. Should’ve known better than to put it in his mind. Should’ve kept it to myself and borne the burden of the mystery alone. The presence succeeded, in its own twisted way. That seed of doubt that’s been sown—the question of what’s real—will never be cleansed from our home. Not fully.  

 

He keeps me marked now perpetually, just in case. Going over his knee is no longer an occasional means of punishment, but one of prevention. Protection from possession by anyone but him. The bruises his hands lay into my bottom are my amulet, and every time we make love he holds me close, whispering in my ear while he moves inside me.

 

“You’re mine… all mine… mine alone…”