((A slower chapter, but necessary foundation building, I think))
My red skin, my breasts, the messy black hair that hung in my face. It was mine, even if it was just on loan until I figured this out. I held up a hand, and made fist, watching as the thorn like nail pressed into the soft meat of my palm. My fist was small, maybe a little bigger than a plum and just as rich in color. Hell, all of me was small. Size and distance was still difficult for me to judge, but the computer desk came up to my belly button, and as far as weight, well, I ran my fingers down my side and was able to count every rib above a waspishly thin stomach. To say I was thin was an understatement. The only exception to my lithesome form was round perky ass.
Idly I became aware of the rest of my body, those parts I’d been so deliberately ignoring. One hand went to my chest, at last curiously rubbing the soft flesh I found there. My body responded to the touch. My dark nipples crinkled and perked up. They were little peaks at the edge of the modest curve of my breast, with the heavier rounder shape hanging below.. A shiver rushed through my spine, as a delicate eroticism crested within me. Part of me wanted to just pluck the foreign flesh from my chest and throw it away in disgust, while another part… well… I pinched my nipple a little harder, and gasped softly.
My other hand felt the emptiness between my legs… No… Not emptiness, but the soft mons and tight lips.. Again I ached for my missing anatomy, feeling a deep loss in the pit of my stomach, but curiosity drove me on. Already excited by the fondling of my tits, my body responded eagerly as a finger rubbed over the area of my hidden clit. I had to pull my hand back and take a deep breath. It felt good. It would be easy to indulge, and that filled me with both curiosity and fear. I imagined that nerd finding me shlicking it when he left the bathroom, and scowled.
Instead, I picked up the same torn shirt, and shorts from before. The shirt hung messily off one shoulder thanks to the tear my horn had caused, but my vandalism was not yet done. I took my sharp nail and gouged a hole in the shorts, just beneath the waistband in the back. I then threaded my tail through that hole as I got dressed once again.
My tail swished as I contemplated my body. I found the act soothing, like stroking a beard, or pacing. I sat cross legged in the computer chair and leaned back until I was staring at the ceiling.
Up until this point I’d been on autopilot. While my mind churned through emotions with all the delicacy of an icebreaker. I stayed afloat amidst all the chaos by staying in the moment, but now the moment was empty. I had nothing to do. There were no imminent concerns driving me onward. I started to reflect, and the ice began to freeze around me. I needed to find a way to convince this idiot of who I am. I needed to find a way to free myself of these literal chains. I needed to find out who that girl was that peaked at me from the foot of my bed.. I looked back down and faced the black screen of the computer monitor and found my first answer.
It wasn’t especially surprising, but the girl from last night was staring at me from my reflection. Those same cute gaunt features now gazed back at me, mirroring my every expression. My yellow eyes had dark bags beneath them, perpetually exhausted and lusty. A sharp brow preserved the intensity of my gaze. High cheekbones and slender lips gave me almost serpentine features. I was her, which can only mean that she was in my body, kicking me into the pentagram.
Maybe I was going about this the wrong way. Instead of worrying about the nerd, I could find out where I am, and confront the body snatcher myself!
My tail started to flick back and forth excitedly as I turned the chair towards the PC, and shook the mouse to wake up the screen. There was a LOT of porn on the desktop, which I promptly ignored and opened a browser. I typed into the search bar. “My location” and hit return. The map that popped up had a pin in my home city. I wasn’t far from my home at all. Of course that little search had only narrowed things down by IP address, but still, this was good news. Maybe I had a shot at escaping.
“What are you doing?” The nerd asked. Having left the bathroom when my back was turned.
I winced.
He chuckled. “I don’t care if you’re on my computer. Maybe if you research what I like, you’ll stop being such a prude.” He walked over and looked at the screen. “Huh. trying to figure out where you are? I didn’t know demons knew about search engines. You must have been on earth not too long ago.”
“Yeah, you could say that.” I replied sardonically.
“Looking for something in particular? Maybe someone?” He asked.
“In a manner of speaking, but Master has prohibited me from talking about it.” I meant to say “You” but the word master just slipped out. I felt a tingle around my neck, and a heat in my tongue.
“Ah. More lies then.” He flippantly disregarded me.
I growled in frustration. “Master. Just listen. This summoning didn’t work the way you think it did. Something went very very wrong. I was never supposed to be summoned, someone swapped places with me at the last second.”
“Really?” He asked. “So your true name isn’t “Eizazelique? I used it to summon you after all.”
“No, it’s not.” I replied, relieved that he was at last listening. “I’ve never heard that name in my life, it’s probably the name of the demon who swapped with me!”
He tapped his chin. “So, then, if I were to place a curse on ‘Eizazelique’, rather than using bindings, you’re saying you would be unaffected?.”
I nodded eagerly. “Yes, exactly!” I only had the vaguest understanding of true names thanks to fantasy novels, but if he tried to curse me using someone else's true name, there’s no way that should work, right?
“Very well,” he smirked and began to chant rather suddenly. I could tell by the frisson building in the air that whatever he was doing was for real. I watched, suddenly nervous, as he pointed his palm dramatically at me, and concluded his chant by declaring the name “Eizazelique!”
The energy faded, but as far as I could tell, none of it reached me. I looked down at my body, then up to him, and smiled. “See! I told you I wasn’t lying. I’m not Eizazelique!” I declared confidently.
He raised his brow, looked intensely at my eyes, and started to laugh, causing me to growl loudly in frustration. But he continued in a patronizing tone. “No, No, I guess you’re not.”
I blink, then skeptically ask, “Really? You finally believe me?”
“Sure. Why not.” He said, a smile still planted on his face.
“So you’ll help?”
“Not a chance.” He laughed again.
I practically roared in frustration.
