Not So Different, yet as Different as Can Possibly Be

8-The Fiendish Feast

   "One cannot yearn for that which they have never had
   "The sweetness of fruit and the hearty taste of meat
   "You yearn for these because you have already tasted them
   "And yet, though I possess virgin lips
   "I yearn for the taste of a woman

-Unknown

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   Adrien Estella sat at the table, the large demoness across from him. The table was set with food and drink of every kind from every culture. Soups and breads and fruits and meats and candies and insects and rices and noodles and cakes and, well, everything else. But he was not focused on the food, as good as it tasted. Of all the things there were to eat in the room, the one thing he wished to eat most, was his hostess.

The demoness brushed her coily black hair out of her face and took another bite of the pastry in her hands. Adrien watched her plump lips close around it as she bit into the delicacy.

She was definitely demonic looking, with maroon red skin, goat horns, slit eyes, barbed tail, and split hooves. He watched her lick the pastry frosting off her pitch black lips and noticed her tongue was forked.

She wore a bespoke black dress that accentuated her figure. She was, well, there's no use beating around the bush, now is there. She was fat. I know everyone treats it like a bad word, but it's not. I could describe her as plump, round, fleshy, plus sized, or even full figured. But that just makes fat sound like a bad word, a word to be avoided. It could be used as an insult, sure, but that's not how I intend to use it.

Adrien watched her for a bit as she ate until she broke the silence. "What's the matter, sugar? Have I got something on my face?"

He quickly looked away, blushing a little. It felt wrong to lust after his hostess. "I, I'm sorry, I, I guess I'm confused is all," he lied.

"I am too," she told him. "Tell me, sugar, how did you get into my castle?"

Adrien rubbed the back of his head, moving his fingers through his short blonde hair. His hair was the only good thing he had been given by his biological father.

"Well, my mom told me about this book, see. It's for summoning demons, or something. It's how she met my dad, and so I thought I could use it for, well. . ." The truth is he had felt lonely, and wanted a special someone. His mom had accidentally summoned his dad, and that had worked out pretty well. He had wanted to summon a prospective significant other, but he didn't want to admit that here to her. It felt, well, desperate.

His hostess tilted her head to the side. "You're dad's a demon? You don't look half demonic."

Adrien held up a hand in protest. "No, first off, my dad's an angel, not a demon. And second off, he's not my biological dad, but he's more of a dad than my father was." He said the word father with the same contempt that for most people is usually reserved for the word "roach."

She nodded. "I get it." She took another bite, this time from a turkey leg, as she thought about the situation at hand. She chewed and swallowed before continuing woth her questions. "So you tried to summon someone with a spell, botched it big time, and wound up in Hell. Am I understanding this right, sugar?"

"Yeah." So he was in Hell. He had certainly suspected so, given his hostesses appearance, but this place didn't seem like Hell. It just looked like the inside of a black windowless castle with red lines on the walls in patterns reminiscent of sacred geometry.

Adrien addressed his hostess once more. "Can I ask a question?"

She swallowed a large gulp from her black goblet and smiled playfully. "You just did, sugar." She then laughed at her own joke before relenting. "Sure, go ahead."