Attending to an Incubus

"I have some." he says. "But I don't wear them. They don't receive much respect among demons. It's said that a true ruler should wear authority, not trinkets."

"You do! I could see it from the moment I first laid eyes on you."

It's embarrassing how honest and uncalculated my reply is, but even so, Iniar looks pleased.

"May I see you with the tunic off?" I ask.

I have to ask, since he's much too tall for me to take it off of him myself. He rolls it up over his head, exposing a body completely unlike any elf's, rippling with muscles like living cast bronze. I can feel the heat rising up from him, like he's been soaking up the warmth of sunlight. I meant to have another compliment ready ready for him, but instead, my breath catches in my throat.

I run my hands along his chest, exploring the feel of his body. His muscles feel firm but supple, not uncomfortably hard like I'd feared. But somehow, he gives off a feeling of being even more solid than the castle stones underneath us. It's such an unfamiliar, almost unearthly feeling, it makes me wonder for a moment if I might be dreaming. But this feeling really couldn't be less like a dream. I've never in my life been more aware of my sense of touch, of the feeling of another person's skin against mine, or the sheer physicality of my own body. Underneath the thin film of silk I'm wearing for him, my nipples are so stiff, I can barely imagine that his line of sight might be focused anywhere else. I shift my weight on top of him, not to seek out a better position, but because I can't keep myself still. When I move, I can feel the slick warmth between my thighs as they glide against each other.

I'm at a loss for words, so instead of speaking, I bring my lips down to his chest, and let my tongue run down his body along the crevasses of his muscles. There isn't even a hint of sweat on his skin, but I can taste a faint hint of spices, and feel the heat, stronger than wine inside my mouth. As the tip of my tongue reaches his navel, I raise my head, and steel myself to speak his name aloud again.

"Iniar, please... may I serve you?"

He nods. His expression is the warmest I've seen. I could even call it gentle and caring. My heart is pounding, and I can't help thinking how deeply I am under his control, much, much more than I ever was with Loriel. He runs a hand over my hair, letting its strands glide between his fingers. With his other, he undoes the laces of his trousers.

When I look down from his face, he's already fully exposed. Firm, but not yet fully hard. The same rich, dusky color as the rest of his skin, almost glossy in texture. A demon's manhood. Is it wrong for me to think it's beautiful? There's no way I can help it, so I try not to blame myself. Even without having reached its full size, it's already much larger than the two I've seen before. It's enough to make me nervous, but at the same time, when I get up from his lap, I can feel the needy, throbbing emptiness inside me.

I reach out and touch it, feeling the slight give under my fingers. As I imagined, it feels even warmer than the rest of his body.

"I'll do my best to take care of this for you." I say.

I kneel by his side and wrap my fingers around it, caressing it gently, taking in its texture, its warmth and heft in my hand. I lower my head, breathing in the scent of it, or at least, what would be its scent if he were a mortal. The air around it carries something more like a feeling than an aroma, like the idea of spices without the flavor, dizzy, tingling and mouthwatering. I let my lips brush along its head, and my tongue creep down over it. The feeling of heat in his skin is even more concentrated here, sinking through my body. Without my even meaning to, I let a trail of my drool trickle down the side of his shaft. I run my fingers through it, using the moisture to smooth the movement of my hand. I can feel it stiffening, still growing, spreading my fingers apart until they no longer meet around it.

He's almost fully erect now, and I'm afraid this might be beyond me, but I bend down and try my best to take him inside my mouth.

"Mmmm..."

Iniar lets out a sigh, like he's just eased into a hot bath. He closes his eyes, luxuriating in the feeling. Maybe a gesture intended more as a sign of encouragement than a reflection of his satisfaction, since I've barely taken him in past the head. I've had years to practice my technique, on exactly one member of very different dimensions, and I'm now rapidly reevaluating everything I know and trying to estimate my limits on the fly. If it were just a matter of length, I'm sure that I could manage deeper than I've had to go before, but Iniar's girth is completely unexplored territory for me. Since he's giving me so much room to work with, I start making use of my second hand, trying my best to keep my movements synchronized while I tease his shaft with my tongue, trying to measure out how much of him I could possibly fit in my mouth.

"Take your time." he says.

His voice is warm, with no sign of irritation, but there's a hint of teasing in his expression. Of course, he already knows this must be different than anything I've tried before. How could he not? He's anything but naive. But at the same time, he must be used to his servants putting in their utmost efforts to please him. I do my best to keep up a steady rhythm with my hands as I feel out how to best make use of my mouth.

As I'm lowering my head against him, trying to take him deeper inside than I have before, I feel a sudden, gentle pressure against the back of my head. Not a forceful tug to pull me down onto him. As I feel the rustle over my shoulders, I realize that he's stroking my hair. As I raise my eyes up to look at him, he brings his fingers around and starts massaging under the base of my ears.

"Mmmm!"

My voice leaks out around him in spite of myself. After such a long day of controlling my expressions and holding them still, the muscles under my ears are sore and exhausted. Under the pressure of Iniar's fingers, I can feel the tension inside them melting away. The warmth soaks through my body, all the way down to my shoulders. Just that small, gentle touch somehow feels more intimate than anything I've felt from another person before, like he sees completely through me, and knows exactly how I'm feeling right now. The feeling is so exquisite, I almost stop what I'm doing just to take it in. But I make myself carry on with my attentions, holding back my voice as he kneads away the tension from all my efforts at restraint. I can't let my own feelings overcome my ministrations to him. In all my years attending to Loriel, I never once gave him a glimpse of how I really felt. Even if my feelings towards Iniar are worlds apart, I can't allow my mask to drop away. I'm here because he's summoned me to please him. No matter what he does to me, I can't let my attention slip from that task.

"Mhm... That's good..."

He winds his fingers through my hair, caressing the back of my neck. It's hard to tell if his words are a commentary on my efforts, or he's affirming my own thoughts. In either case, it spurs me on as I wind my tongue around him, taking even more of his heat into my body.

I keep using my hands and tongue, smoothly and steadily, but my mind is racing as I try to grasp how to make it good for him. With Iniar completely hard now, I can barely take him inside my mouth at all, and I'm forced to test out new and untried methods to make up for it, using my tongue to tease him while I let my fingers do most of the work. He offers up soft, appreciative murmurs and continues caressing me underneath the ears. This might feel good for him, but I can't imagine it will be enough, and I rack my brains trying to come up with better ways to please him. I'm trying my best, but with my lips around him, his hands against my skin, and the heat of his body around me, my thoughts are so clouded. I should have resisted saying his name aloud so many times. If I didn't have both my hands on his shaft, one of them might drift down between my legs without my even thinking.

To make matters worse, Iniar slides his fingers down past my neck, easing the silks he sent me off my shoulders. I let them fall, exposing my breasts, and he runs his hands underneath them, gently lifting them, tracing his fingers along them. I brace myself, making myself ready for the sensation when he touches my nipples, willing myself to keep my voice in. He doesn't touch them. He toys with me, fondling and gently kneading into my breasts, but his fingers never even brush against my nipples. It has to be deliberate. Is he trying to avoid distracting me? If so, it's not enough. It's the most I can do to keep up the same patterns I've felt out so far. And the longer I keep this up, and the more I take in his reactions, the more certain I am that it isn't enough.

Finally, Iniar brings one of his hands to my chin and lifts it, urging me to look him in the face. His expression is gentle, but even with his ears fixed in place, I can see hints of impatience. He pats his lap, his hand beside his towering erection, now glistening from my mouth.

"Why don't you come back up here, Nalina?" he says. "I want to see your face better."

Of course, that's one of the things I'm most afraid of. That with Iniar's complete attention on me, my mask will slip. That I might lose control and be fully exposed in front of him in a way that I've never been with anyone before in my life.

"Come on. I never thought that I'd be satisfied to taste just your mouth to begin with."

At his urging, I stand back up. Of course, from the very start, there was no way that I could have dealt so simply with a demon lord. Doing my best to steady my nerves, I let the silks he sent me fall to the floor, baring myself completely. I can feel the squeeze of excitement twisted together with apprehension inside me. Standing naked in front of him, I'm even more aware of how wet I am. More than I've ever been in my life, enough to feel it trickling along my thighs. And if his size is intimidating, I've never felt so achingly empty. If I weren't afraid already, I think I'd be scared of how badly I want it.

"Then, it will be my pleasure." I say.

I climb back onto Iniar's lap, resting my hands against his chest. If there's even the slightest tremor running through them, he'll feel it. There's no avoiding that. The only possible refuge I have through all of this is to remain in control of myself. I run my hands over his muscles, caressing his body as I prepare myself. I let one hand rise up towards his face, resting alongside his neck, while I reach the other behind me. I ought to look him directly in the eyes for this. But doing that on top of everything else feels just a bit beyond me. Instead, I focus on his mouth, the corners turned up in a playful grin, as I grasp him my hand, then lower myself onto him.

"Hmmmnnnh."

I meant to let out my breath slowly as I sank down his length. A long sigh to steady myself as I settle into a rhythm. Impossible. I realize that the instant my lips part around him. The sensation is so intense, it nearly drives all the air from me in a single gasp. I can feel myself stretching around him, wider than I ever have before, but that pressure, nearly to the border of pain, is exactly what I needed to satisfy my overwhelming urge to be filled. But the feeling of taking Iniar inside me is so much more than a matter of size or shape, something that could be copied with dead wax in a mold. Iniar is an incubus lord, and nothing that I've felt before in my life has been anything like this.

My mind reels as I lower myself slowly, taking him in deeper than I thought I could go, before I stop myself just short of reaching his hilt. I feel like I could take that last bit of length, like if I lowered myself all the way, he'd nestle against my very deepest parts. But I hold myself back from that final step. Maybe Iniar won't even notice the difference, but to me, that last barrier of restraint feels essential to keeping control of myself. And I need every bit of control I can muster. Even now, with just a single stroke, I feel so much closer to the edge than I ever have with anyone else. And as I take in the unbelievable feeling of having Iniar inside me, it feels like every single moment is pulling me even closer.

I should have known better than to say his name aloud so many times. So foolish. There's nothing I can do about that now. I start to move.

"Mhm. That's good..."

Iniar rests a hand against my hip, letting it rise and fall along with me. With his other, he strokes the back of my hand planted against his chest. Does he know how much I'm already struggling to keep my hands steady and not dig my nails into him? Or how hard I'm working to control my breathing and keep my voice in? Right now I should be praising Iniar, or telling him how good this feels, or how much I want to please him. That's how Loriel would have wanted it. But instead, I'm doing everything I can to keep silent. Otherwise, I'm afraid that the voice I let out won't be under my control.

As I settle into my pace on top of him, Iniar murmurs softly and trails his fingers gently along my thigh. I can't make out the words he's saying. Maybe I'd be able to, if I could see his lips, but I'm keeping my eyes cast down towards his chest. The thought of locking eyes with him is just too much. Even if I'm the one on top of him, I've never felt less in control than I do right now. Everything I'm doing, each movement, everything I look at, even what I focus my thoughts on, is all restricted by my struggle to contain the pleasure.

I'm pulsing and squeezing around him, filled up with his girth that stretches me to my limits. It's completely unlike anything I've felt before. I can hear the sound of him stirring up my wetness with each stroke of my movements on top of him. That's never happened before, and there's nothing I can do about it. I can keep my voice in, but just barely. I don't think I could let out a single word without it coming out as a moan. I'm in charge of the pace, I control the depth and angle of every stroke inside me. I have to use all of that to keep the pleasure within my limits. With nearly every movement, it feels like I'm discovering new ways for my body to respond to him. New spots inside of me, new sensations from that pressure and the feeling of emptiness when he draws out of me, even from the light trailing of his fingers along my skin.

I'm doing my best to seek out a pattern, one which I can keep up as long as I need to. One where I can keep my movements steady, where my legs won't start quivering on top of him. Where I can control my breathing, and the urge to gasp or moan with each stroke. Where I can last and take him to the finish without dropped over the edge myself. I'm doing my best, but still, it doesn't feel like enough. Even with these limited movements, these strokes that avoid the strongest sensations, and all my best efforts to hold firm, I can feel myself slipping. Just one movement out of place, a single stray thought or a glance at his face, that's all it would take for my efforts to contain myself to fall apart. And even if I can avoid all of those, it might only be a matter of time...

"Hmmm..."

Iniar lets out a sigh. Not a sound of satisfaction like before, I can hear the hint of irritation in his voice. He shifts his grip, clasping me around the hips with both hands. I can feel the trembling of my own body against their pressure.

"Nalina," he says, "I didn't call you here to tease me. If you're going to come, then come."

I raise my face to look at him. I can't help myself. It would be useless even trying to avoid it. Even hearing him say my name was probably enough to overcome my restraint all by itself. As I meet his eyes, he grips me tight, and pulls me down onto him, hilting his length completely inside me for the very first time.

"Mmmmnnn!"

Out of reflex, I do my best to stifle my voice, but it's not enough, not even close. A moan escapes through my clamped-shut lips as my legs shudder around him. The sensation is so intense, it's like a flood built up behind a collapsing dam. For the first time in my life, I'm coming with another person. With Iniar, the Demon Lord of the West, inside me, filling me completely as I squeeze down on him, pulsing uncontrollably over his length. He grins up at me, stroking my hips.

"There you go." he says. "Good girl. Keep on going like that."

I'm not sure if I can keep going. I've never come like this before in my life. It's like all the tension of the last few weeks has boiled away inside me. My legs are still shaking, my ears pressed flat against my temples. I can only imagine what my face looks like. And I've never kept going by myself after I've come before. I have no idea what would happen if I tried.

But I can't allow myself to disappoint Iniar. He called me here to please him, I can't do anything but my very best. In my whole life as a servant, even when my life has depended on it, I've never felt this absolute need to satisfy someone.

Pressing my hands against his chest to help support my shuddering legs, I start moving on top of him again.

"Haahh!"

I let out a gasp as his length slides through me again. This time, I don't try to stop myself. There's no way I can keep going and hold myself together, but I have to keep going. And I can't possibly satisfy him while trying to keep my own pleasure under control. So I don't. Instead, I try to use rhythmic, bouncing strokes which save my energy, which I can keep up even on unsteady legs. I need to do what I can to keep up my strength, because the pleasure is so intense, it's like my body is turning against itself. It's all I can do to keep myself steady as I ride on top of him, my breath escaping as a whimper every time he fills me.

"That's right. Just like that."

I'm quickly discovering exactly what happens when I keep going after I've already come. I can feel the hot, shuddering pressure building inside me again, somehow even deeper than before. I thought that I might have come apart, like a broken vessel that can't be filled again until it's mended. But now instead, with Iniar's heat filling me, I feel like I might burst apart again and again, like a volcano which erupts until there's nothing left of it.

Will Iniar be satisfied if I keep going like this? I have no idea what that will take or how long I can keep going. Now that I've given up trying to restrain myself, I can can feel that I'm going to come again, even quicker than the first time. My breath rises into panicked gasps as I prepare myself to try to keep riding through it. I put more force into my movements, trying to drive myself on as the trembling overtakes me.

I don't know if it's Iniar's nature as an incubus, or this is simply what happens when I make myself keep going, but when I come again, it's more intense than the first time by far. The feeling is deeper, radiating up and down my body. I force myself to keep moving through the spasms that run through my thighs, and up my back all the way to the shoulders. It feels as if the whole world is shuddering around me. I only half-recognize the sound of my own voice crying out, like I'm hearing myself from far away.

I gradually manage to steady myself, riding out the reverberations that linger in me like thunder. I try my best to preserve my movement, saving all the energy I can as I bounce on top of him. But with every single stroke, that hot, twisting, trembling rush of pleasure runs through my body. The more that feeling floods through me, the more that sense of need and pressure builds, the harder it is to keep moving under my own control. Droplets of my sweat fall, scattering against Iniar's chest as he smiles up at me. His expression looks playful, pleased, but with a predatory edge. And still, far from satisfied.