Charlie smiled at the bar tender as he scrutinized the fake I.D. Sure, the thing said Charlie was three years older than his actual nineteen, but he had paid a lot of good money for that fake and it hadn't failed him yet. Still, the bartender looked skeptical as he handed it back and placed the beer in front of him. It didn't help that Charlie had a face some would call angelic, he called it baby face that made him look even younger than his actual nineteen. Blond hair, a lean body, and a complete inability to grow even stubble didn't help with the illusion of age either. A bit of healthy tipping would make sure the bartender didn't question it too much. Money always got him what he wanted.
Well, usually. He was alone tonight, most of his friends putting him off to study for finals instead of coming out to the bar to get drunk with him. He knew he'd pass, his family name on some of the campus buildings made sure of that. But it made for a dull evening. There were only a few groups dotted around the bar and no hot girls worth a damn. A loud group of Mexicans or whatever where bunched around one table being noisy and obnoxious about the soccer game on the TV. A few working stiffs here and there, and the only women seemed to be cougars that Charlie would only resort to if he got as desperate as they were, but sometimes it was worth it to get his dick wet. Well, at least the beer wasn't shit.
"Hey." The deep voice brought Charlie out of his thoughts. He looked over to the owner of the voice. A man in his late twenties with a mop of black hair and stubble on his jaw that had to be intentionally kept. He was dressed like some of the other business types down here, an oxford shirt with a slightly loosened tie, a pair of slacks and dress shoes. He wad on better labels than most in the bar, maybe a young executive. He also didn't have the slight paunch most of the desk workers had. In fact, the curve of hard muscle was hard to miss the way that shirt fit him.
"What do you want?" Charlie was in a bad mood already, and didn't want this guy interrupting him.
"Couldn't help but notice you drinking alone." The man said, his smile almost devilishly hungry as he looked Charlie over. Women would find him irresistible, Charlie just felt bile rising in his throat.
"Fuck off." Was this guy hitting on him? Charlie felt blood rushing to his face, not in embarrassment but in anger.
"Don't be like that. I can make it worth your while." The guy wasn't bothered by Charlie's harsh tone, in fact, he seemed encouraged. "Little bit of your twinkish ass would make my night."
"Not a fucking chance, go find a fag bar and stick to your own, pervert." Charlie's harsh tone finally seemed to get through and the man's face fell.
"Pity, I was going to give you a chance." The man pulled out a twenty and placed it on the bar. "Have a round on me anyway." And without another word headed for the exit.
Charlie was still boiling that this guy could hit on him. Bad enough that that was acceptable now, but having one hit on him. He wanted to shout after the guy to mock him, the only thing stopping him was knowing he wouldn't be able to take him in a fight.
"Disgusting." The voice came once more from behind Charlie, but this one was a sensuous feminine purr rather than a masculine rumble. He turned back to this voice and suddenly wondered how he ever missed this woman in the bar. She must have been sitting out of sight. She was in her mid-twenties, with flaming red hair and a black dress that didn't leave much to the imagination got Charlie's dick instantly hard. "Here I was worried all the cute ones were gay." She leaned forward and her ample breasts pressed up against Charlie's arm. "Glad to see some are available. I'm Michelle by the way."
"Charlie." His anger had evaporated as soon as he got his eyeful of Michelle.
"Well, we can stay here and drink, or.." Michelle placed a hand on Charlie's thigh. "We can go back to my place and.. fuck." She whispered the last word in his ear. But he didn't need much more prompting, already placing some money on the bar.
"Lead the way."
The walk back to Michelle's apartment wasn't far, and she hung on him the whole time as if she was afraid he'd get away. Not that he was going to let that happen, he was practically pressed up against her backside as she worked at the lock. Once inside she got enough distance to slip out of her dress, which really had not hidden much. Her breasts were still pert despite their size, and she had an amazing hourglass figure, like some male sex fantasy come to life. She walked backwards towards the bedroom, beckoning him with a finger.
Charlie started stripping off his clothes as well. His body wasn't much, lean and pale. He didn't like doing too much physical labor, but he did just enough exercise to keep from putting on pounds. Everything about him was boyish until he stripped off his pants to free his pride and joy. His cock stood out at it's full eight inches, thick and throbbing. Michelle smiled when she saw it. "Ooohh.. the boy is a man." Charlie pressed up against her but she gently pushed him back on the bed. Climbing atop him she spread his arms apart. Something cold pressed against his wrist and he felt the cuffs closing on his wrists. "We're going to make this fun." Michelle said with a purr. Looking up, Charlie saw the mirror on the ceiling, and all he could thing was this night was going to be incredibly kinky.
He was ready to do anything for this woman, and he didn't even complain as another set of cuffs closed about his ankles leaving him spread eagle on the bed. Instead of climbing back atop him, Michelle slinked over to the bedroom door and called back into the apartment. "He's all yours, sir." With an amused tone in her voice.
Charlie's eyes practically bulged out of his head when the man from the bar came walking into the bedroom, he started to pull and yank at the cuffs to no avail. "I don't think we were properly introduced." The man said in his deep baritone as he walked over to a chair next to the bed and sat down. "I'm Astarael."
"FUCK YOU! LET ME OUT OF THESE FUCKING THINGS! YOU DON'T KNOW WHO YOU'RE FUCKING WITH!" Charlie began to bellow at the top of his lungs, which only pulled a sigh from the man, and an amused chuckle from Michelle.
"No one is going to hear you, so you might as well shut up. As for who I am dealing with." Astarael suddenly had a file folder open on his lap. From where he lay, Charlie could see it was full of pictures and info on him. "Charles Westworth. Trust fund brat worth approximately thirty million. Buys everything he wants... greedy, avaricious, a liar and a cheat. Racist, sexist, homophobic.. tsk, tsk, tsk.. You know, if you had slept with me I was going to let you off with a light punishment. You're young yet, easily able to change your ways, but I'm not feeling overly gracious after your little outburst." He tapped a spot on the file. "I even seen here you and your friends beat up a gay classmate. Emotionally abused a girlfriend. You really are a little shit stain."
"Punish?!" Charlie felt like laughing. "When I get out of here you are going to wish you never fucked with me."
"You are seriously misjudging who is in charge here, Charlie." The man's skin began to redden, a pair of curling horns sprouting from his brow and curling around the side of his head. His eyes turned a predatory yellow as he smiled a fang-lined grin. "Your soul has been deemed corrupt and has ben given to me to do with as I will. Just like Michelle's over there. And like Michelle, you are going to work for me. Help me find and punish those who can still change, and to bring me the really awful ones like yourself to fill out my little army of thralls. When I deem you have worked off your sins, you are free to go."
"I'm not going to do shit for... AGGGHHHHH!!!!" The words were cut off as Astarael pressed a finger to Charlie's forehead, it felt like fire searing his flesh.
"My brand. So any thralls or demons can identify you." Astarael continued as if nothing had happened. When Charlie's vision cleared he realized he saw marks on both Astarael and Michelle's foreheads. Looking at the mirror on the ceiling he saw the same mark on his own. "Now the only question is what form to put you in."
"What the fuck are you talking about?!" Charlie gritted his teeth as the brand suddenly flared with pain.
"What the fuck are you talking about, sir." Astarael corrected. "It wouldn't be much of a punishment if I left you in your current body, so you'll undergo a little reincarnation into something you're going to hate being for a while. Though I've heard thralls sometimes come to love their new bodies. Isn't that right, Michelle?" The red headed woman just nodded, smiling coyly. "Why don't you tell him who you used to be?"
"Yes, sir. I used to be Michael Davidson, a 47 year old corporate lawyer." Michelle ran her hands down her body in a way she knew would make Charlie's cock twitch. "Now I work for one of my former partners and bring some of his scummier clients to our master to punish." She sounded delighted as she regaled Charlie with this story.
"Michael was a scummy lawyer, embezzled money from clients, brow beat those who couldn't afford their own lawyers, and treated his female staff like playthings." Astarael added. "I took that body right out of his deepest fantasies and shoved him in it."
"You can't do this to me! People are going to be looking for me!" Charlie began to protest as the brand started burning again.
"You can't do this to me, sir." Astarael once again corrected, almost gently. "And I'm pretty sure I can. You see, the body of Charles Westworth is going to be found tomorrow morning, dead in a gutter from alcohol poisoning. Truly a tragedy." The sarcasm practically dripped off Astarael's lips. "The only question is what body to put you in that would teach you a lesson and find me sinners to punish."