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  A Demon Master Erotic Tale

  Demon

  A Dark Fantasy Erotic Short Story

  from the Demons of Areth Series

  By

  Leigha Stoirm

  Demon – A Demon Master Erotic Tale

  Copyright © 2019 by Leigha Stoirm

  All rights reserved. This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form, in part or in its entirety, without the express written permission of the author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. Any unauthorized reproduction or use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited and will be subject to prosecution.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons (living or dead), business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For permissions contact: [email protected]

  *Trigger Warning* - Some people may find the scenarios or material in this book to be distressing or triggering. This is a Dark Fantasy Erotic Romance and contains adult content not suitable for readers under the age of 18.

  Demon

  The sun was setting. From my room at the top of the tower, I saw the last sliver of the bright blue orb battling the skyline. A blaze of bright light streamed through my single window, warming my naked body fleetingly as the Arethen sun fought to own the sky just a bit longer. I wished it would win. I wished it could hold back the night.

  That’s when he would come. My master. His daylight form ruled the skies outside my window even as the air in my room began to change. A cool breeze blew in through my window, raising a chill across my bare skin. The progressive loss of the sun’s heat was inviting the cold air into my room, and it was infested with static. The humidity, due to the sweltering heat of Areth’s blue sun, was the only thing keeping the static at bay during the day, and once the moisture vanished in the cold of the night, the air became electrified. I watched the final fragment of the sun disappear over the distant horizon, and the remaining scraps of blue light fade into the deep crimson of our moonlit night.

  Three years. That was how long it had been since my life had been taken from me. I’d become a prisoner, and slave, and my master was the Demon King, the only Dragon Incubus left on Areth, and he needed to feed. His hedonistic Incubus appetite was sizeable, as was his Dragon appetite. That was my place. I was a blood slave, a pleasure slave. I was a meal. Every night he came to me, though he never forced me, and every night I gave in.

  I scented him before I saw him. He smelled like the forest, and fire, and rain. The smoky aroma signifying his arrival filled my nose and my muscles tensed. My breath hitched as thick black smoke poured in from beneath the door and took the shape of a man. A demon, really. My demon.

  The only form he ever took at night was this smoky phantom, barely more than a shadow, and though he approached me slowly as always, my breath came faster with each step he took. In three years, he’d never hurt me, not really, but no matter how many times he came to me, the sight of him like this always elicited this primal, irrational response. At least at first. He was an Incubus after all, and he was powerful. His magic calmed and relaxed me, not only making me pliable and willing, but making me desire him, need him. Lately, I craved him for longer and longer periods of time after he’d left me, long after the effects of his magic should have worn off.

  His scent washed over me, carrying with it the light aroma of lavender. His magic always smelled of lavender. Lavender and loss. I lost everything when this monster exploded into my life, my room, my body. He took every piece of me and shattered it, and each time he finished with me and left, the pieces didn’t seem to fit together quite the same way they had before.

  I breathed him in, his lavender magic and his smoky scent, and instantly relaxed as his magic took hold. The familiar caress of his smoky form as he wrapped himself around me left me feeling safe and warm. Usually, he possessed me, entering through every orifice, caressing me then pouring himself down my throat as he took ownership of my body. He watched the mirror through my eyes as I writhed and moaned, used my own hands to drive me to completion, but he seemed to desire something different tonight.

  “Master?” I breathed as his shadowy hand lifted to my arm and brushed across my skin.

  The smoke of which he seemed to consist had little in the way of physical substance, yet I felt him with every fiber of my being. Every touch was like a whisper, barely tickling my skin, and it left me tormented, wanting. My body demanded more, craving the sustenance of skin against skin, yet my mind delighted in the identity of my shadowy lover. I was simultaneously hungry and satiated, frustrated yet strangely fulfilled.

  As he continued, my breath grew heavier and quicker. My eyes drifted closed as I imagined a feather gliding delicately over my skin, brushing my nipples, my lips, my stomach. The downy softness disappeared and when I opened my eyes, his shadowy form was sitting on the bed waiting for me. I stalked lithely toward my master then crawled past him to the center of my enormous bed, lying down on my back. I knew what he expected of me at this point, but I relished it. There was a certain power in submitting myself to him completely. Power and freedom because despite our beginnings, and my innate human fear of the demons, I trusted my master.

  I closed my eyes and his feathery touch returned, its soft plumage stroking, tickling, teasing me slowly. The gentleness of his phantom touch combined with the occasional tiny shocks, miniscule jolts of electricity from Areth’s static-filled air, left every inch of my body electrified. My skin was alive with sensation, and eager.

  Downy softness trailed down my stomach to the split of my legs. I parted them for him instinctively, and my inner thighs became the center of his world. Smoky fingers brushed from my knees to my slit and back, slowly decreasing his range of motion until his shadowy massage focused solely on the junction of my alabaster thighs. We were there for hours. I relished every moment as he worked me slowly, methodically: my face to my toes, my breasts and tummy, and my entrance with its sensitive crowning nub. Languorously he stroked me into the frenzy he usually rushed me to repeatedly.

  I was moaning loudly now, my hands sliding to my breasts and massaging. My fingers found my nipples, rolling and rubbing, then pinching and pulling, desperate for heavier contact. He maintained his shadowy devotion to the delicious torture of my body, and I feared my mind would break. In a manic attempt to find relief, I reached my hand between my thighs and rubbed my clit hard and fast, almost painfully, and an orgasm crept into the periphery of my awareness.

  “No.”

  He spoke. He never spoke. I was so blindsided by the sound of his voice, I almost forgot to obey, but after a brief delay, I pulled my hand back immediately. One word, that was all, but I knew he meant it.

  “I apologize, Master. I got carried away, but it was out of line. It won’t happen again.”

  “You come for me alone, Princess. And only when I allow it. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Now, do you think you can behave, Princess? Or shall I think up some punishment? Perhaps the Dragon?”

  “I can behave, Master. Your dragon won’t be required.”

  You would think the interruption would have put my orgasm to a full stop, but it had almost the opposite effect. His voice carried as much power and mystical weight as his venom and his actual magic. It reverberated through my body, the vibrations of his growling voice shivering through every part of my body, and I was barely holding myself together. I’d never worked so hard not to come before, and it was a battle I was losing.

  He tilted his shadowy head to one side, studying me, torturing me, making me wait. As I watched, his smoky form
grew thinner and lighter, dissipating before my eyes until it was gone. I tensed, unsure what to expect until a very solid, very hot hand caressed my stomach. I sat straight up, eyes wide, breath suddenly shallow and fast for wildly different reasons than before. Strong hands began at my knees, sliding the lengths of my thighs, then up my waist and ribs to my breasts. One hand slid up my chest and around to the back of my neck, tilting my mouth up, as scorching lips brushed across mine.

  Invisible. He was invisible. In three years, I’d never known he was capable of this magic, and it made me wonder what other secrets lay hidden within him. His solid body touching mine for the first time in the three years I’d been his captive was thrilling, but the combination of that and not being able to see the demon touching me left me feeling utterly intoxicated. Dazed in a state of heady lust, I needed, and while he may be invisible, gone he was not.

  His tongue slipped between my lips, smoky and sweet, he clutched me tighter to him, groaning against my lips as I responded. The hand on my breast slipped up, and the one behind my neck slid forward, sandwiching my jaw as his knees landed on the bed on either side of me. He pulled me up into him, bruising my lips as his kissed deepened. Unexpectedly, he released my lips, grabbed my waist, and threw back further onto the bed. I landed on my back as he covered me with his warmth, and my core contracted tightly in anticipation.

  I sighed greedily as one of my master’s unseen hands slid up my side and cupped my breast, lightly brushing a thumb across my nipple. His second hand grabbed my other nipple and rolled it between his fingers. A scorching, wet tongue replaced his fingers, flicking lightly against one nipple, then the other, then sucking one into his mouth.

  My back arched and my hands reached for him, grasping in thin air before finally making contact with his muscular back. The feel of his slick, satiny scales sliding beneath my hands spurred me on, and my back arched further as I dug my nails into him, pulling him tighter to me and hearing him groan.

  His hands slid beneath my body, clutching me to him, claws grazing my back carefully as his lips brushed along the bottom of my breast and along my ribs. My breath came in great, heaving gasps as my master’s burning mouth pressed gently against my stomach, then trailed kisses down past my hips. His searing, wet tongue slipped into my folds, and I gasped.

  Unseen hands were still teasing my nipples as his mouth worshipped my clit, my eyes unable to discern even the slightest shimmer of his form, but my body… My body could feel the heat of his skin, even where he wasn’t touching me. My skin was overwhelmed by sensation, feeling the cold night air, the hot aura from the demon and the tiny shocks of electricity he was sending out onto my skin. My unseen lover was working every delicate, sensitive point of my body, and I was coming apart beneath his touch.

  The heat of my master’s hands disappeared from my breasts and reappeared against my inner thighs as he slammed them apart, claws pressing against my delicate skin as he held them down, spreading me wide as he devoured me. The sensations of his hands holding me down, his fiery tongue around my slit, licking and sucking my clit, were too much. A final shock struck my clit beneath his tongue, and I came hard, writhing and bucking. His hands slipped in to hold my hips to his mouth as he continued to worship me, groaning and growling against my skin.

  I was still shuddering from my first orgasm when my climax began to build again, pressure gathering in my lower abdomen. My demon’s unseen hands gripped my hips almost painfully, and his mouth remained buried in my pussy as he devoured me.

  More! The single thought reverberated in my mind, not repeating, but constant and unyielding, like hunger or thirst. I needed.

  “Master, please!” I begged. “I want you!”

  “No,” he whispered.

  “Master, I will take any punishment you see fit, pay any price. I just want you inside me. I need you.”

  He never missed a beat, only kissed my clit softly and growled again, “No.”

  I swear I heard his voice waver, but the vibration of that single word against my skin was enough to send me reluctantly plummeting into bliss once more. I wanted more from him, something other, and I could sense weakness in his resolve. But my body was surrendering to the rapture, and I was swept away in the current, forgetting myself along with my observations in the delirium as my body was thrust into another spasm. My master was holding my thighs firmly in place, claws retracted but not allowing me even the freedom to writhe and buck as the pleasure consumed me.

  I desperately needed something, and my instincts were desperate to guide me, so I let them, relinquishing what little control I still possessed. Able to feel his skin against mine for the first time since the night he brought me to his castle, I was exhilarated, possessed by something other than the demon: lust. Encouraged by tonight’s turn of events, I did something bold, something I’d pay for later.

  I followed the rhythm of his tongue, and as he extended it to lick me, I lifted my hips up and thrust toward him, crying out in satisfaction as his tongue entered me. I heard my Master moan loudly in response to my cries, and he pulled my hips to him. Then I felt his fingers replace his tongue, massaging me, caressing the sensitive skin just inside my entrance, and it made my head spin. The cacophony of groans, moans, and grunts escaping me were base and animalistic, and the room began to go a little spotty as I felt something new building.

  Then I shattered. The most intense orgasm I’d ever experienced washed over me. A sudden stinging on my hip alerted me to the sharp claws extending from his still unseen hands as I shuddered and writhed in his embrace.

  His fingers slowed their rubbing inside me, then disappeared, but the sensation wouldn’t let up. It just kept climbing, even when the cold air hit my clit as his tongue abandoned it and the sharp sting of his teeth as they brushed against my skin. There was a tiny prick of pain as his fangs sunk into me, then the immense wash of pleasure as his venom hit my system.

  Climax after climax claimed me and I was lost in an ocean of pleasure. The room disappeared around me, the walls and the ceiling faded away, even the bed beneath me seemed to be no more. There was only us, only the demon and pleasure. I was peripherally aware of his groans of ecstasy and I could feel the bit of life force escaping me and rushing into him. It made him blissful every time, and I never seemed to miss it. It was a small price to pay for the pleasure I received in return. Not that I had any choice in the matter.

  When I was finally spent and still, and my master had had his fill of me, he withdrew his fangs and licked the wound clean. I felt him lick my slit and clit one more time and shuddered and jumped beneath his touch. And I swear I heard a stifled chuckle before he laid his head on my hip and rested. He always left just after I finished, after he fed, but tonight he lay against me, tracing designs on the flesh of my stomach until his breathing deepened, and I thought he might have fallen asleep.

  Perhaps he wasn’t finished with me just yet, but he would be soon. And in a few hours, after he’d gone and his magic had worn off, I would hate him again. I would call him Monster. I knew this, but for now, I was satiated, happy and warm in the embrace of this demon and the discovery of some new pleasure my body could experience.

  The sounds of his breathing drifted around me like music, his chest rising and falling between my legs as he rested against me. I lounged on the bed, trying not to fall asleep in case he was in the mood to try this latest experiment again when he tensed and lifted his head. The bed indented next to me as he braced himself with his hands and lifted up from my lap to stand at the foot of the bed.

  His disembodied voice spoke shakily from the foot of the bed as his smoky form slowly appeared before me again. “That cannot... will not happen again. Is that clear? I almost lost control, Ki. It…,” he cleared his throat, “Princess. It can’t.”

  “Ki? Did you just…”

  “No.” With that final word, he left, slamming my chamber door behind him.

  I had so much to process from the evening: the feel of the demon’s solid for
m, the fact he had been invisible, the sensation of his tongue and fingers somewhere I’d never been touched, the passion in his touch, and the warm affection as we’d rested together. But the thing drawing my attention at the moment, was what he’d said. He’d called me Ki. A shortened version of my name, perhaps? A nickname? From my Incubus Master? A wealth of questions flooded my mind, along with a world of possibilities. What could my life be if we were more than master and slave?

  I leapt off the bed onto wobbly legs and paced about my room, not bothering to put on clothes. I was cold but exhilarated. The events of the evening had set my soul ablaze with possibilities, and they kept me warm as I fidgeted about the room, finally coming to a stop next to my single window. The heavy drape covering my window kept out the cold. It was also the same color crimson I remembered the demon’s skin being. Skin I hadn’t seen since he brought me to this castle, and I became his slave.

  As I stood there admiring the material, remembering that fateful night, I heard a sudden, earth-shattering roar and tore the drape aside. Ignoring the frigid night air against my bare skin, I searched the grounds for the source of the chilling sound. I knew it was him: the demon, my demon.