Flesh-shaping
“Has anyone ever done this for you before?”
“No. Uh, a bit lower …”
Sparrow barely holds in a moan as their hands find the right spot on his shoulders. “Really? A cute morsel like you … well, I’m honored you chose me, then.”
“Um. Could you, uh.”
“Yes?”
“… u-use a different word. For me.”
“Oh, of course! What would you prefer?”
“U-um. Something, uh,” he hides in face in his hands, not that it matters much, “something masculine?”
“Ah. I think I understand. Well, I’m honored that such a handsome thing would choose me for … hm, his?” Sparrow shivers under their hands. “His first time. Most of my clients are, let’s say, more experienced. Not a bad thing! It’s nice to work with people who knows exactly what they want, but, well. Helping someone discover what they want? That’s a treat.”
“I-I hope I won’t disappoint, then. Since I don’t, really …”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I can’t be disappointed,” they laugh, “literally, in fact. One of the conditions written into my original summoning. Would you like to see the others?”
“N-no. That seems, uh. Cruel?”
“Maybe for humans. But, trust me, it’s easier for things like me to exist when we have very clear parameters for what we should be.”
“Demons?”
“Ah, the horns gave it away?”
“Y-yeah,” Sparrow’s grin fades, “though I haven’t met any before …”
“Not many of us out in public, mhmm? Even when our terms allow it.”
“Do yours?”
“No. But I have everything I need in this room, so it’s not a big deal, you know? And a steady stream of clients to practice my art on. Now,” their hands leave Sparrow’s skin, “would you like to discuss what you want?”
“Um. I, uh … it’s sort of embarrassing.”
They nod, humming; a practiced eye roving over Sparrow’s naked body. His blush, never far from his skin, returns with a vengeance. “Most of my clients merely want the, ah, equipment,” their gesture leaves no ambiguity, “or a few little tweaks to deepen their enjoyment of their bodies. Or their partner’s enjoyment. I do get a fair number who just want to reignite fading interest, poor things.”
“Oh. Is it really so …?”
“It’s certainly not unusual,” they pause, a strange look on their face. “Though, you do know that I can’t do anything permanent? Though I think the Madame has someone who—”
“Yes! I know. I, um, just want to try it out, I think? For a bit. To, to make sure.”
“Of course. Is there anything in particular, though? I can make whatever tweaks you want once I start, but it’s easier to have at least some idea, mhmm?”
Sparrow’s blush reaches all the way down to his toes by now. He knew it would be hard, of course he did, but—saying it, in the moment? Even knowing that the demon can’t judge him? It’s damn near impossible!
They just sit there, waiting, though, their only expression a faint smile. Patient; unconcerned.
And eventually he manages to squeak out “a beard. I always, always … and my voice? If you could. Make it a bit …”
“Of course. Well, I’ll start, then? If that’s okay with you.”
“Please.”
It hurts less than Sparrow feared, but more than he hoped.
Afterwards the demon is somehow diminished; drawn inward. Their motions are slowed, and their many eyes seem just a hair more glassy. Still, as Sparrow examines himself in the mirror—a tall one, that the demon had brought out to allow him to follow along—their smile is full of the satisfaction of a job well done.
“T-thank,” Sparrow stops, repeats the word. Feels the way it rumbles in his chest. Smiles. “Thank you. Really.”
“No problem at all! I’m always happy to assist such a handsome young man, and, well. This is why I exist.”
“… do you have to say it like that?”
“No. But I am allowed to.”
“I see,” Sparrow frowns. “You’re not—no, I suppose—how long did you say it lasts?”
“A few days, usually. Although,” the demon smiles, “these might last a bit longer, if you’re careful.”
“Oh. Thank you!”
“Put in a good word for me with the Madame before you go, mhmm?”
They don’t linger on their goodbyes, and soon enough Sparrow is dressed and gone, the door closing quietly behind his last wave. The demon remains, in the room they’ve spent the last three decades in, alone. Their contract permits them a single sigh.