No Demons But Us

by A. S. Etaski

  Curgia nodded earnestly. “Of course, I have faith, Wilsira Tachnathon, Chosen of Braqth. That is why I come to you, to help place our House in the path of change. We have seen recent fortune, and it’s a sign from the Spider Queen that we must pursue with aggression to get our name out there again!”

  I almost winced at more merchant-speak, but at least I knew the Priestess’ title, name, and House. She was Wilsira of the Second House Tachna, and she had forgone her birthright, with the Valsharess’s approval. Unlike Lelinahdara, who was a favored Daughter but not first-born, Kerse’s Mother was First Daughter of her House and would have been acting Matron if she had not had a higher calling. The Second Daughter would be the Matron, but the influence of Wilsira on the House’s rule was unavoidable if she wished it to be so.

  No wonder Qivni had shaken her head at my taunting this particular Sathoet.

  “Will you prove it to me, young Noble, right now beneath the Eight Eyes of Braqth?”

  I saw Kerse shift then, raising his head to look at his Mother with interest in his eyes. Curgia didn’t notice, or perhaps she merely refused to look at the Sathoet as so many others did, but I felt a shudder go through me as Jaunda’s lips close on my earlobe, and her strokes on my sex grew slower.

  “Yes, I will, Priestess. Anything.”

  Jaunda chuckled lowly, and I realized how hot my crotch had become from her attention, how hot my entire body felt. Between Kerse’s suddenly intense eyes, imagining “anything” Curgia might do, and knowing without a doubt what Jaunda would do, I shuddered in arousal.

  “That’s it, novice,” Jaunda whispered, unbuckling my belt. “Keep watching.”

  She let it fall, the sound muffled to the softest paff in the passageway and unlaced the leather thongs at my hips to loosen my pants. She slid her hand down my naked flank to my nest of white fur, and I opened my mouth when her finger slipped inside me. My Lead found me wet, and she sighed with contentment; the sound made me smile, and I pressed my backside against her. A murmur of approval as she thrust her hips forward in return. When she did nothing more than keeping her fingers in my twat, I took the hint to return my attention to the room.

  Wilsira let Curgia’s last words hang in the air a long time until the Noble began to fidget again. Kerse looked at the young female, leering—a shocking display of insolence if we were in public—but she still did not acknowledge him. I knew how his uneven prick felt inside me, and my own arousal spiked when I imagined him humping her as he had me. Curgia would dislike it far more than I had.

  “Remain on your knees,” the Priestess said now, “and place your elbows on the ground. Let us take a moment of reverence for our Lady of the Web.”

  Curgia hesitated a little but slowly lowered herself to rest on her elbows, still trying to look up at the Priestess. The young Noble’s hips were higher up than anything else, so it was easy to imagine Wilsira walking behind her, lifting her dress up, and inviting Kerse to mount her. Curgia wasn’t a warrior; I wondered if she would fight or just protest?

  “Place your forehead on the ground.”

  Nothing was quick about this; I heard murmured prayers for several ticks, first spoken by Wilsira and required repeating by Curgia. The Noble kept her eyes down and subtly brought her legs together while she prayed, as Kerse weaved slowly to his Mother’s voice. Finally, the elder Priestess stood up from her chair and walked toward the worshipping trader, circling around her as I had imagined, although Kerse stayed where he was. Wilsira tapped her own cheek with a bejeweled finger, her expression thoughtful and self-satisfied. I glanced at Kerse again; he had an erection beneath that cloth.

  “Is it you?” Wilsira asked.

  “Priestess?” the younger replied in confusion.

  “Who is to conceive first, should your House be favored with a Consort? Is it you?”

  I saw Curgia swallow; I wasn’t sure why. If she was the one negotiating, then why shouldn’t she enjoy the fruits first?

  “The Ball is mere cycles away, a cluster of marks,” the Priestess continued. “Do you purify yourself?”

  “Uh—”

  Wilsira lifted Curgia’s dress to expose her backside, smirking as she looked. Like most who were well-off at Court, Curgia had no underclothes. The young Noble’s legs squeezed together, making it hard to see her sex even if I hadn’t been at a side-view. But her dark skin was smooth, her curves softer and fleshy than mine for being mercantile over military. Curgia moved to push up on her arms, a knee shifting forward as she opened her mouth to say something.

  “Stay as you are!” Wilsira barked.

  It echoed through the glyphs and hurt my ears. Jaunda hissed in discomfort, and her frigging stopped for a moment.

  We all waited as Curgia stiffened then reluctantly settled again. The Priestess leaned down and took a dignified whiff of her scent, not thrusting her nose into the Noble’s crotch at all but inhaling the warm air near her skin. Wilsira stroked and patted the young Davrin’s haunches before straightening herself, leaving the dress resting on her hips. I saw a spread of tiny bumps arise on Curgia’s flesh and knew she felt vulnerable.

  “I can smell it,” the Priestess said, walking around to the front again. “The fertility potions, their essence seeping through your skin. You have been preparing, I daresay bathing your insides with them. So certain of your success, are you?”

  “Hopeful,” the young one murmured. “Why not give it the best chance? It is my Matron’s goal, I will do whatever I can to make it so.”

  “Indeed. Not aging well, is she? That she’d want you as the broodmare.”

  “I was chosen, and I am loyal to my House.”

  “And the status means nothing to you?”

  “Status means everything. That’s why I’m here.”

  “But you have been saying you’re not here primarily for yourself,” the Priestess continued. “If your House were favored with a Consort, could you see another sister or cousin conceive first, ahead of you?”

  Curgia was silent.

  “I’ve given you much of my time, Noble, and you’ve said many things. I want to know if you will back them up, in the name of Braqth. If your House is worthy of my support.”

  The young Noble’s body language showed signs of nerves and dread; I could see her toes flex in her sandals; her chest expanded, and her bottom lip trembled. “How?”

  “Give up your own plans to conceive first, and I will grant my recommendation to House Itlaun at the Ball.”

  Curgia tentatively raised her head, and when she wasn’t shouted at again, she looked up. Her expression seemed to ask, That’s all?

  I thought she was right to be suspicious. How would that benefit Wilsira? Why would she even care who conceived first at House Itlaun?

  “You’ll notice I added ‘first’.” Wilsira smiled encouragingly, still without the sadism I had expected to see. “You may still conceive. Doesn’t that speak well for the length of the term that your House might keep a Consort?”

  Curgia nodded carefully. “Yes, Priestess.”

  “So? Can you give up the first claim, young merchant?”

  The air was heavy with expectation, and the merchant had trouble coming to terms with the deal. She wanted to make a counter-offer, but she wasn’t in the position—literally and socially—to do so. All her usual tactics were useless, and she was at a loss. She could only agree or refuse and leave, and House Itlaun would not have another chance at a Consort for another generation.

  Jaunda and I waited in near stillness for her answer. I’d been watching Kerse, too, and his interest in the exchange had not wavered. He was attentive, listening to everything.

  “Very well,” Curgia said, the bitterness loaded in her throat. “I will…give up the first claim if you will recommend my House for Braqth’s Blessing at this Worship Ball.”

  The elder Priestess nodded in satisfaction. “I still require a guarantee, a show of faith. I know merchants find ways to go back on a
deal or get around it.”

  “It is a sacred agreement, Priestess, I would not dare!”

  Braqth’s Chosen finally chuckled; she showed me what I’d been waiting to see. What I always figured I’d seen in a Priestess.

  “And you know how well our own Lady-Goddess changes her mind.”

  The young Noble’s mouth hung open as she tried to work out the Priestess’ faith yet acknowledged how fickle the Goddess really was, especially compared to a merchant. There was no answer of which I knew.

  In that hesitation, Wilsira gestured to Kerse, who came forward eagerly, crouching again beside his Mother. She stroked his mane and reached casually to untuck his groin wrap and pull it away, displaying the first sight I’d ever had of the Sathoet, his member turgid and ready to breed.

  Curgia’s eyes widened considerably. She shook her head in denial.

  “Where is that guarantee, Curgia?” the Priestess asked, and I could hear the threat in her deep voice. “Show me the faith in our agreement.”

  The younger Davrin trembled. “What guarantee do you want?”

  “See to my son’s needs.”

  Kerse scooted forward on all fours and crawled partly over Curgia’s prone body, his erection aimed at her flushed, purple lips as the white crown of her head brushed against his dark belly.

  “This is interesting,” Jaunda said. She started to grind herself against my backside as her fingers fucked me.

  I agreed. I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

  “Do not deny him, Curgia. Or you deny Braqth and me.”

  Curgia shivered again as Kerse snuffled her backside, rumbling low in his chest as his Mother watched with blazing eyes. The young female was desperate to find justification for letting the rigid, demonic rod slip past her teeth.

  Come on, merchant, what else can you do? I thought. With all those fertility potions in your blood, just be glad he isn’t plundering your slit.

  The kneeling Curgia must have had the same thought because she suddenly opened her mouth and took him as far as she could, actually making an effort to please him. I saw a flash of a pink tongue as she tilted her head, licking and swirling on his cock, and Kerse rumbled louder, his muscles tightening as he stretched his throat and lifted his head upward, a drop of spit falling onto her exposed buttocks.

  “Good,” Wilsira said. “Sign that you agree. You shall draw out his seed.”

  I watched Curgia hand sign that with her mouth full. I had been where she was now many times already, in the Cloister. Watching her brought back so many recent memories, not the least of which was that the rut with this same Sathoet. The way he humped at the Noble’s throat now, with some restraint as he glanced twice at his Priestess, reminded me that he could be tamed. That I had tamed him.

  I looked at his Mother, tried picking up subtle signals from her, and Wilsira gave him a smile of adoration when he made Curgia gag. Jaunda dry humped my ass, going harder, and it was getting distracting.

  “Just fuck me, Lead!” I hissed.

  She licked my ear and pinched my clit, pleasure-pain streaking up my front. “Drooling cunt wants it, huh?”

  “B-badly. Please, Lead.”

  “Gimme a flick.”

  I wasn’t the only one drooling as Kerse used his huge hands to maul Curgia, first fumbling underneath for her breasts, pawing at her sides, and then moving to squeeze and knead her exposed haunches. It didn’t take long before he licked and slobbered in her crack. I heard Curgia squeak and squeal a few times, writhing along his underbelly, adding to his pleasure. I remembered the way Kerse had licked me from nub to pucker as well, and even surprised, I had enjoyed it.

  Jaunda had eased off me; her hands drew back to prepare her Feldeu. My wet slit pulsed once in desire, aching for penetration as I watched Kerse have his fun thrusting into a Noble’s mouth. I couldn’t remove my hands from the wall to push down my own pants; I had to wait for Jaunda’s strong hands to shove them down. She did so impatiently, kicking my ankles apart before aiming the head of her toy between my legs. She pressed it, speared it inside me with one stroke.

  “Fuck!” my Lead gasped happily as I choked on a groan. “Such a hot cunt!”

  And hers was a hot cock. She could feel my body heat through the phallus, and I could feel hers. She knew the moment I squeezed her with my muscle, and the force of Jaunda’s answering thrusts pushed me closer to the stone. It wasn’t hard to imagine Jaunda and Kerse experiencing similar sensations, though my Lead would climax without the messy spurting that I secretly still craved.

  I wondered if Curgia would take demonic cream in her mouth or somewhere else. I could feel my own lubricant cooling on my thighs as I repositioned my head to look back through the slit, as Jaunda serviced herself and me. Kerse thrust harder down Curgia’s throat, and she was gagged often.

  I thought I heard something, the barest whisper. Unfortunately, with Jaunda gasping in my ear, I couldn’t tell what was said, but Kerse lifted his head to look at his Mother and withdrew smoothly from the Noble’s mouth as she coughed and sputtered, tears staining her cheeks. He moved to the side, and Wilsira came closer as Curgia lifted her strained gaze, her own spittle glistening on her chin.

  “That is enough, then?” she gasped, and the Priestess frowned in displeasure.

  Short memory, I thought. You didn’t draw his seed.

  “I promise to conceive second—”

  Curgia’s eyes bugged out as the Sathoet moved behind and quickly mounted her. Although her legs were still together, his member was slick enough to drive straight into her sex whether she was open or not, and Curgia shouted in outrage. Jaunda fucked me harder against the wall as she groaned.

  “Stop him!” the Noble shouted, trying to twist out of the half-demon’s grip. “Please, he feels disgusting! Deformed!”

  Wilsira stiffened in anger, her bejeweled fingers tightening. She spoke coolly. “I will have that guarantee, Curgia.”

  “But I promised, Priestess! I will let my older sister conceive of the Consort first!”

  “Of course, you will. You shall have no choice.”

  With no further explanation, Curgia tried to scramble away, kicking at Kerse and thus widening her legs, giving the Sathoet opportunity to strengthen his hold on the struggling merchant and thrust in deeper.

  “Oh, Priestess, I can’t… Don’t do this to me—”

  I gritted my teeth as my Sister rammed into me, harder than Kerse was into Curgia, as the Lead came with a growl. Then Jaunda reached around to brush my wildly buzzing clit as I watched the Sathoet open his mouth, showing sharp teeth as he snarled.

  He’s going to do it…

  Kerse’s thighs and buttocks flexed as he stopped thrusting but pressed in hard, his claws pressing against her flesh without drawing blood. The demonblood roared, and abruptly I hit my peak as well, imagining his seed spraying deep into her fertile core. Curgia wailed.

  “No,” the Noble swallowed a sob before looking to the Mother of the creature pulling out of her. “Why?”

  Wilsira smiled. There was the sadism of a Priestess. “Can you not see his aura, Curgia? That is power. He is of Davrin blood, Noble, conceived through ritual. Part of me. He is my own. You would think this a more divine gift than a stupid, pretty toy of weaker magic, would you not?”

  The young Davrin shuddered in disgust, shaking her head, her shorter hair hiding part of her face. “I don’t… I wanted—”

  “I know what you wanted.”

  The Priestess nodded at the Sathoet, and he began to rub himself stiff again. He looked hungry enough that I didn’t think it a problem to go for a second breeding.

  “You must earn what you want, merchant, as do we all.”

  “Please, if there’s anything I can do that will… If you will help me end it, Priestess, if I should catch…”

  Wilsira sighed in disappointment. Jaunda bit my neck and pulled her Feldeu out just as Kerse shuffled up to mount Curgia, who glanced back and
gasped in horror. She tried to move forward, but the Priestess stood in the way. I saw Wilsira caress herself from breast to mound in one smooth gesture through her luxurious gown before petting Kerse’s mane. His cock was seated in Curgia again by then, and he moved as enthusiastically as he had the first time.

  My Lead was watching over my shoulder, catching her breath. “Well played. Wilsira has her in her pocket.”

  I nodded, breathing deep as she wiped us both down with a pouch cloth, laced up her pants and had begun to pull up mine—all the while my hands still firm on the wall. By that time Kerse roared again, leaving Curgia’s snatch as stretched and soggy as mine had been with Kain.

  Shit. I stopped breathing, kept my mouth closed. Shit! Don’t think about that.

  We stayed to see if there was any further discussion, but Wilsira made no such offer, and Curgia could barely pick herself up off the floor as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. Her dress and hair were mussed but, overall, she didn’t look too different from when she’d walked in, merely as though she’d been in a small room for a long time and was frazzled.

  “I shall escort you out myself,” Wilsira said, reattaching Kerse’s green groin cloth and petting him again. He was panting and looked a little sweaty.

  Curgia said nothing, but her back straightened when the door opened, and the Noble tried her best to pretend that her puffy eyes wouldn’t give her away. Jaunda had stepped away from the spy slit then while I had just murmured the release word and lifted my hand from one glyph. Kerse moved to follow the two females out.

  I froze when the Sathoet slowed for a moment and looked behind him. He looked directly at the wall which contained the slit, though I knew it was camouflaged with magic. He smiled. Almost as if his blank, yellow eyes looked right at me.

  Then he left, the door closing behind him.

  I stayed still for an extra moment, my heart delayed in its return to normal as I considered the possibility that Kerse had sensed us somehow. He couldn’t have heard us. Had he just been looking back into the room with fondness at what had just occurred? I couldn’t know for sure unless I saw him face-to-face again.