Demon Seed

by Demon Seed (lit)

  When they had finished and the imp, Jala, had come into the room and removed the remains of their meal, Nuri rose from his chair and went to stand before the hearth.

  After a few minutes, since she didn’t know what else to do, Colette rose and followed him. She stood uncomfortably for some time and finally settled on the floor at his feet, staring into the flames. “Am I forgiven?” she asked after a time, irked that she had to ask, but nevertheless hoping that he was no longer angry with her.

  “No.”

  She glanced at him sharply, feeling her belly clench with a strange combination of fear, hope, and desire. “Why?”

  He tilted his head slightly. “You gave me nothing.”

  Blood flooded Colette’s cheeks again as the realization filled her mind that he spoke nothing but the truth. He had pleasured her unmercifully, beyond what she’d felt like she could possibly endure, but she had not gone to him willingly, and she had given him no pleasure beyond what he might, or might not, have experienced from giving pleasure to her.

  With that realization, it dawned on her that she had not been ‘punished’. He had been teaching her body to respond to his touch. He had given her the knowledge of what her body was capable of.

  Or, perhaps in part, he had done it to make it impossible for her to lie to him or herself that she desired him.

  She still had a chance to survive, she realized after a moment. If she kept her word and gave herself to him, he would accept it--she thought--and then the only use he would have for her would be for pleasure. He could not hope to curry favor with his overlord by sacrificing her once she had given him her maidenhead.

  It still took more courage than she would ever have thought necessary to get to her feet and approach him. There was no welcome in his face when she stopped in front him and dropped the linen to the floor. “Teach me and I will give you pleasure,’ she said with an effort.

  His expression hardened, but when she moved to the bed and lay down upon the mattress, he stood watching her. After a moment, he sat in his chair and pushed his boots off, then stood up, peeling his shirt from his shoulders. When he had dropped it to the floor, he unfastened his breeches and pushed them from his hips.

  Colette’s eyes widened as she watched him. She had never seen a man naked before, and certainly not his man root. It looked impossibly huge for her body, almost painfully engorged.

  Contrarily, her belly clenched at the sight, her femininity growing moist and heated with want. That, she knew, was what she had wanted so badly before, what she wanted inside of her so much she ached for it.

  When he had settled on the mattress on his side, he placed his palm on her mid section, slipping it upward and capturing one breast. Kneading it, he plucked at one erect nipple with his fingers and lowered his mouth to capture the other peak between his lips.

  Instantly, pleasure jolted through her. Any doubts that had lingered that it was he who had caressed her vanished. His touch was like fire, sending a raging storm through her to collide in a whirlpool of need in the pit of her stomach.

  She gasped, moaned, holding still with an effort as he teased her with his mouth and tongue, but she found as he moved from one breast to the other that she couldn’t continue to remain still. A fever gripped her. She began to move restlessly beneath his caresses.

  It was almost disappointing when he moved away and began to caress her belly with his hands, his mouth and tease her with his tongue. Shifting, he settled between her thighs, pushing her legs wide. Her breath caught in her chest as he dipped his head toward her sex and she felt the rough caress of his tongue along her cleft. Releasing the breath she’d held on a gasp, she arched to meet his questing mouth as he settled it over the tender, aching bud, sucking it into his mouth.

  Tension coiled rapidly inside of her. Her skin burned. Her body clenched, seeking the fulfillment that he had denied her each time he had brought her to release. She knew what she needed--him, his turgid flesh.

  She was stunned when he stopped and rolled away. With an effort, she opened her eyes and turned to look at him.

  She saw that he lay on his back, his arms beneath his head. His eyes were glazed with his own desire, tumultuous with need. She sensed a breathless waiting.

  Rolling onto her side, she caressed him as he had her. With her hands, she explored his body, testing the strength of his hard, bulging muscles, the smoothness of his skin. With her tongue and mouth, she tasted his flesh, marveling at the thrill of excitement that went through her as she felt him move restlessly beneath her touch, heard his heart thundering in his chest, his short gasps each time she touched a particularly sensitive patch of flesh.

  When she lifted her head to look up at him, she saw that his eyes were tightly closed, his face drawn almost as if he were in pain. A sense of power washed over her, and with it excitement.

  He was as helpless in the face of the pleasure she gave him as she was in the pleasure he gave her.

  Dragging in a shuddering breath, she moved lower, dipping her tongue into his naval, nibbling kisses along his lower belly. He jerked when she wrapped her hand tightly around his turgid man root, startling her, but she saw in his face that it was from pleasure akin to pain. Feeling more certain, she massaged him experimentally and then kissed the tip as he had kissed the sensitive bud of her femininity.

  He groaned, digging his fingers into the mattress.

  Drunk with passion and power, she opened her mouth over him and sucked him. He caught her shoulders, digging his fingers into her almost painfully and she looked up at him questioningly. “You don’t like it?” she asked, her voice husky with her own desire.

  Passion blazed in his eyes as he opened them to look at her. “Yes,” he said hoarsely and then swallowed audibly. “I don’t think I can stand it without exploding.”

  His words washed over her like an intimate caress, making her belly quake with her own need. After a hesitant moment, she took him into her mouth again, hungry now with the need to find fulfillment, to be filled with him.

  He began to shake and thrash beneath her ministrations, groaning hoarsely. She felt her own body tensing toward that pinnacle she had come to covet and moved over him more feverishly still.

  He caught her once more, dragging her up his body. Spearing his fingers in her hair, he dragged her face close and opened his mouth over hers. A rush went through her as he made love to her mouth with the fervor of his need.

  She broke the kiss after only a few moments, sliding down his belly, trying to align her own body with his.

  He rolled, flipping her onto her back and covering her body with his. “You want me?” he asked harshly.

  “Yes,” she said on a gasping voice. “Please.”

  She thought that he would split her in two when he pushed the head of his cock into her. She relished the pleasure/pain, arching upward, forcing her body to accept him as he drove a little deeper with each thrust until she felt him pierce her maidenhead and move deeper still. The sensation was maddening, a warring of pleasure and pain that only made her yearn for more. “Nuri! I need,” she gasped, uncertain what more she needed, but certain that he could give it to her.

  She heard him grinding his teeth. Slowly, he withdrew and almost as slowly thrust deeply once more. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders, mindlessly urging him on, bucking against him when he paused. He let out a low groan and began to thrust more smoothly, retreating and thrusting again. Each stroke took her higher, made the tension coil harder and tighter inside her until she was sobbing with the need to find release. She learned the rhythm, arching up to meet him each time he drove his hard flesh to her depths, and with each stroke, he withdrew and returned harder and faster than before until bliss caught her, exploding around her in a white hot flash of ecstasy.

  Groaning hoarsely as her flesh began to convulse around his, he plunged harder and faster and then abruptly went still as his cock jerked inside of her. Slipping his arms beneath her, he clutched her tightly, his body shuddering
as he pumped his seed deeply inside of her.

  For many moments, he simply lay still when his body had ceased to convulse in pleasure, breathing harshly next to her ear. Finally, as if he could not bear to withdraw his flesh from hers, he slipped a hand beneath her buttocks and held her tightly to him as he rolled onto his back.

  Colette didn’t even think to object. Despite the pain from the loss of her maidenhead, despite the fact that he was so big she’d felt as if he would split her in two, the pleasure had by far outweighed the pain and her culmination was better even than all the times before when he had given her pleasure without embedding his flesh in her.

  She found it nearly as pleasurable, though in a different way, to feel his big body beneath hers, to feel her breasts flattened against the hard muscles of his massive chest.

  Passion. She had dreamed of it, but she had never truly grasped what it was.

  She desired nothing at the moment other than to do it again, and again.

  Lifting her head finally, she kissed his chest, licked him with her tongue.

  She liked his taste.

  He roused slightly. Lifting an arm, he dropped it heavily onto her back. Colette grunted at the blow, but as he began stroking her back almost lazily she relaxed again, realizing he simply had no clear idea of how monstrous big and heavy he was--and all his parts.

  Colette was drifting lethargically when he slipped a hand down along her thigh and dragged her leg around his waist. Rolling again until she was beneath him, he nuzzled her neck, sucking a string of love bites along her collar bone and then downward. She felt his member swell tightly inside of her again.

  “I enjoy fucking you far more than I had even thought that I would,” he murmured, nipping languidly at her nipples as they puckered and stood up for his attention.

  The comment pierced the glowing warmth of Colette’s euphoria, bringing her abruptly back to reality. What had she been thinking, she wondered, to feel even a pinprick of hurt at such a remark? She was not prone to fanciful daydreaming, despite the one she had nursed to herself for years. She considered herself intelligent and practical.

  She had offered up herself because it had been the only logical thing to do to try to save herself. She was not being wooed by some suitor. She was being ravished by a demon beast.

  She should be glad he had brought her to her senses.

  As much as she enjoyed being fucked by him, this was no solution for her. She had to keep her wits about her or she was lost.

  On the other hand, she did enjoy it and, however bad of her it was, she was glad she did. She would not have to pretend and fear that he would realize it and be angry.

  He could not use her to appease his overlord now. She was safe from that fate, at least.

  The problem now was that she had no idea what he would do when he tired of her. Would he allow her to go home? Continue to hold her prisoner? Or--something she didn’t want to think about?

  She finally decided as she felt her body respond to his touch that she would worry about it later. Later, when she could think clearly, perhaps she would figure out a way to escape him.

  He took her to the peak of rapture again and as she lay sated and weak, he began again to build the fire until she was feverish with need and he brought her to culmination once more.

  Finally, exhausted, she fell into a deep slumber.

  She had no idea how long slept, but she was awakened rudely when her wrists were seized. Still weak from having been sated over and over, and disoriented from sleep, she struggled half heartedly, trying to pry her eyelids open when they felt as if they had been glued shut.

  She saw as she was dragged from the bed and forced to kneel on the floor, that it was the two imps Enis and Pell who had awakened her. When they had forced her to her knees on the floor, her hands were dragged behind her back.

  “His lust for you has weakened the Halfling Nuri,” said a voice in a deep, rumbling growl that sent a shaft of fear through Colette. Of its own accord, her head jerked in the direction of the sound.

  A demon stood before the hearth. He was veiled in shadows that prevented more than a glimpse of his face, but his voice alone was enough to assure Colette that it was not Nuri. He did not wear the clothing of a human as Nuri usually did, but stood before her naked. He was built much like Nuri--with hard bulging muscles all over his body, but bigger, perhaps twice as big as Nuri, taller by nearly half a foot, broader. His cock was enormous, red, swollen, standing out from the nest of hair at the apex of his thighs in obscene threat.

  “You are both in need of a lesson. Bring her,” he ordered the two imps, vanishing abruptly in a swirling cloud of darkness.

  Fear and not logic ruled Colette as the imps dragged her from Nuri’s chamber and down the corridor to the stairs. She struggled mindlessly, uselessly against their hold, succeeding in doing nothing more than expending the little strength she had left and bruising herself. She was too weak to struggle further long before they reached the dungeon of the abbey and the imps dragged her into a cell, manacling her wrists and ankles before they left her.

  She sat shivering in one corner when they had left her, too frightened still even to think. Two things slowly became clear in her mind, however. She could not escape. She had tried before when she was not even bound and Nuri had caught her effortlessly.

  And it was not Nuri she needed to worry about now, but a demon without Nuri’s ‘weakness’, mercy.

  * * * *

  Nuri had ceased to fear his overlord long ago. Pain had been his constant companion for so long that he had little dread of it, and he had long since lost any concern over his existence or lack of it, for it gave him no pleasure. He obeyed because his overlord was far more powerful than he was and he had no choice. Refusing meant banishment, or pain, or both, but in the end his overlord simply exerted his superior powers and Nuri was compelled to do what his overlord wished.

  It was disconcerting and debilitating to discover that he felt both rage and fear as he was chained to the wall in the sacrificial chamber.

  It did not take long to understand the source of both.

  Colette.

  Terror brought a cold sweat to his body as in sank in upon him that she was at Milak’s mercy and he could do nothing to protect her from his overlord. Mindless, impotent rage quickly followed it and he strained uselessly against his bonds, ignoring the pain and succeeding in doing nothing more than arousing Milak’s amusement and inciting him.

  When it finally sank in upon him that he had given away his desperation to protect her, Nuri felt a surge of fear and impotent fury at himself. He ceased to struggle, however, holding his rage and fear inside.

  Too little, too late, he realized, knowing that his behavior was enough to encourage Milak to do his worst.

  He felt almost ill with the hate that welled up in him then, but he began a hard battle against his hate, his rage, and his sense of hopelessness. He could not break the bonds that chained him. He could not bear to simply watch as Milak destroyed his delicate little Colette, however. He needed his wits about him to find a way to save her before it was too late.

  The answer did not come to him swiftly, but when he saw that Jala had come into the chamber, he used his control of her and drew her near. “Go to Colette and tell her this: She must be strong and endure. I will find a way to save her.”

  * * * *

  Colette had no idea of how long she sat alone in the cell. It seemed many hours, but fear had a way of lengthening the minutes. When the door opened, she gasped in sharply on a breath of fear, relaxing only fractionally when she saw that it was Jala.

  Jala knelt on the floor in front of her. After glancing around uneasily, she leaned near and spoke low next to Colette’s ear. “My master bade me say this to you--endure without struggle. If you fight him, you will only give him strength over you, and incite him to worse. Master will find a way to free you.”

  If it was meant to comfort her, it failed. The opposite was true, for her fear had b
een leavened with weariness in the time that she’d been in the cell and the words sharpened it once more to terror.

  “Release me and I will flee and save myself,” she whispered back, her voice shaky with nerves.

  “I can not,” Jala snarled fearfully.

  Snatching up a length of fabric, she wound it about Colette’s head, covering her eyes and tying the thing snugly.

  Colette fought the blindfold mindlessly, but it was secured in spite of her efforts and she heard Jala leave once more.

  It occurred to her that the blindfold might be a blessing as well as curse. She could not see the things that frightened her, but her imagination might scare her worse.

  The words Jala had spoken tumbled around in her mind, but like the blindfold itself, it had two blades. A spark of hopefulness flickered to life at the promise to rescue her, but doubtfulness followed quickly on its heels, extinguishing it.

  The demon who had seized her was undoubtedly his overlord, and far more powerful even that Nuri. What hope was there that Nuri could free her? And what must she endure?

  Chapter Seven

  Colette was not left to dwell on the possibilities long. The imps returned. She knew it must be them even though she couldn’t see them, for she felt the presence of two and the hands of two as her manacles were unfastened and then her arms were seized and she was half carried from the cell and led along what she knew must be a long corridor from the way the sounds echoed off the walls.

  They entered a great chamber. This she knew from the way the sounds echoed hollowly. The place was chill and damp as the cell had been, but she felt the warmth of bodies around her, heard the whisper of breaths. How many were there she couldn’t begin to guess, but she felt the presence of many, felt the gaze of many.

  ‘Endure’, she thought as she was pushed against something hard and felt it bite into her belly as the two hands that held her captive and guided her forced her to bend over the thing until she was bent almost double.