Demon Queened Ch. 01

I gave a slow nod in response, not trusting myself to speak. The pain that had been threatening to tear me apart was gone, but in its place was a maelstrom of confusion, and scrambled memories that I could hardly piece together. The Rite of Insight... It was supposed to give me the knowledge of my ancestors. Despite my flubbing the last phrase, it had apparently worked - at least, if you were willing to stretch the definition of "ancestors" to include past lives. It was having nineteen years of new memories shoved into an twenty one year old head that gave me such a splitting headache, and caused me to pass out. Even now that things had settled, there were still a lot of memories to sort out.

I had apparently been a man in my last life, for one thing. My name had been Jacob Divington. I was, at the time, a high school graduate. I'd worked as a bag boy, trying to save up some money, and I'd held a vague plan to go to college. I'd lived in my parents' basement. And I'd died in what I could only imagine to be a car crash, after falling asleep at the wheel on my way to work.

It was sort of a pain that I'd died, but since I recovered all my memories in this new life it hardly seemed to matter. Even if it was strange to go from straight human male to lesbian demon queen, I'd in all honesty already spent twenty one years like this and it wasn't like I'd ever held complaints before. I was starting to realize that I had been a bit of a spoiled brat up until this point, in fact, so if anyone should have been complaining it was the staff around me.

There was one thing that worried me, though. That game I had been playing before death, Tower Conquest. It had taken place within the Dimona tower, where I now lived. It had involved defeating ten demon generals, all of whom I recognized from my own life. And the demon queen, who was treated to such a cruel fate at the end of the game, had been named Devilla Satanne.

For a moment, I was desperately tempted to deny it. I wanted to roll about screaming and crying, like the brat I had been this entire life so far. At the same time, I wanted to curse my past self for being such a terrifyingly arrogant individual that even my own demon generals would turn against me. Anger and despair both welled up within me, fighting for dominance, and for several moments I could only stare at my delicate looking hands. The hands of a demon queen.

Eventually I had to face the truth, though. I had been reborn as the villainess of a porn game. Not only that, but I was already the same age as the Devilla in Tower Conquest. That meant I had less than a year until the heroine came for my head.

With no other choice, I turned my thoughts toward survival. I desperately wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, but there was no time for that. I had less than a year to either find a way to save my people from extinction, defeat the heroine, or simply escape the tower.

The first option seemed impossible. Even with two lives to draw on, I was still working with only the combined experiences of a spoiled princess and a bag boy. The second option, meanwhile, felt pointless. If my generals all ended up supporting the heroine, then it would hardly matter whether I won or not. My life as a queen would already be over.

In that case, wouldn't it be best to simply escape the tower? It seemed pretty selfish, at first glance, but it wasn't as if my presence was actually helping my fellow demons. Most of the time I only managed to get in the way. If I left, my generals would be free to run the country as they wished. They might even be able to find a way to defend against the heroine, and maintain sovereignty.

...Though, really, that would only be delaying the inevitable. There'd still be another heroine, after all, and the next one might not be so compassionate. If we ended up with a particularly vicious one, and there wasn't a demon queen there to face her, demonkind really could end up getting wiped from the map.

Even if I wasn't doing the best job of getting along with my people, I didn't want to see them killed. If possible, I wanted those who'd been supporting me so far to live happy lives. Ideally, they would be able to achieve the same peace with humanity that they found in the game. Just without the part where I lose to Lucy.

I considered the matter for several moments, trying to examine the issue from different angles. I couldn't run away. If my generals weren't desperate to be rid of me, there was simply no way they'd accept working with Lucy. Defeating Lucy, on the other hand, would leave me with ten weakened generals who hated me. Even if I managed to hold onto power and replace them all, after the fact, it was likely that the church would take advantage of our weakened state, whether they had a heroine or not. Replacing the generals preemptively wouldn't do me much good, either, Even if I could find powerful enough replacements, who actually liked me, there'd be no chance to train them for the job. Removing ten experienced generals in favor of ten inexperienced sycophants wasn't going to do me much good in battle.

I needed a way to secure my people's future without sacrificing my own. It was a tall order, and for a long moment I couldn't think of anything.

Then it hit me. A slow smile began to spread across my lips, gradually transforming into a manic grin. If I wanted to secure a future for my people, I needed my generals to rebel against me. If I wanted to avoid meeting a bad end, I needed to run away. I had been looking at those two things as mutually exclusive - but why? Yes, I did need to be present for them to rebel against me, but I didn't need to be present after they rebelled against me. So long as I was there when Lucy entered the tower I could simply give a hysterical command for my demons to protect me, then run away in secret. Even if my people eventually realized I wasn't there anymore, it would be too late for them to put together a better offensive, or designate a new leader. They'd have no choice but to take Lucy's offer of peace.

But what would happen to me? Running away meant losing my place in this world. With all of demonkind hating me, I'd have no choice but to hide among humans.

That wouldn't actually be impossible, though. Since this world didn't have photographs, most humans would have no idea what I looked like. A little hair dye would cover up my pure white hair. I could pass my nails off as painted, and avoid manifesting my wings. My purple eyes might still catch attention, but since Lucy herself had orange eyes I didn't think that it would be a dealbreaker. The only real concern I had was how I'd manage to support myself. Perhaps as an adventurer? I could exterminate monsters, guard caravans, or perhaps gather out of the way magical ingredients. Even hiding my inhuman strength, I could still boast magical strength far beyond what a human could muster.

I only had one real concern about this plan of action. Namely, I feared that I might be a little lacking in what this world viewed as common sense. I didn't know how to cook, for example - not without what I still thought of as a modern oven or stove. I also didn't know how to wash my own clothes without a washing machine. And then there were considerations such as the name of local currency or the price of common goods and services. I could maybe get past the last two, by pretending to be a foreigner, but bluffing wouldn't help to clean my clothes or fill my belly.

My preferred way of handling this would be to simply learn the skills for myself in the time I had left. Cooking was my main priority, followed by cleaning. I could thankfully already sew, if only barely, thanks to the home ec lessons I'd taken as Jacob. Still, I wasn't going to turn down the chance to improve that, either.

How exactly was I supposed to master these skills, though? As queen, I couldn't exactly head into the kitchen and simply start making dinner. I'd draw far too much attention - and far too many questions. Even if I used a spell to blend in with the staff, I'd either get called out as an unfamiliar face, or "fired" for my inability to do the job.

I needed a teacher. Someone who knew the profession, of course. Someone who I could control, and keep silent. Someone no one would raise an eyebrow at seeing, whether they were walking into my bedroom, or busying themselves in the kitchens.

It didn't take me long to come up with an answer. Compared to trying to figure out how to save both my people and my skin, this one was quite obvious. In fact, the answer was making a very big point of not staring at me in the face.

Turning my attention to the maid who'd spent this entire time standing silently by my side, I gave her a quick once over. She was a lesser succubus, with dirty blonde hair that had been cut right above the shoulders, and a little curl at the end of her tresses. I thought perhaps I recognized her, but it was difficult to say. I had never paid attention to my maids before now. But that was about to change.

I let my frown shift into another smile. The maid seemed to stiffen for a moment, and I thought for half an instant that I was somehow seeing terror in those pitch black eyes of hers. It was probably just my imagination, though.

"Hey you," I started, wishing I'd bothered to learn this one's name. "How would you like to be my personal maid?"

***

"My queen? Are you alright?" I asked. I was careful to keep my head bowed, and my eyesight focused on the bed instead of the queen herself. Looking directly at Devilla was a good way to get slapped, and that was when she was just a princess. I didn't want to imagine what she'd do to me for looking at her now that she was queen.

Or rather, I really wanted to imagine it, and in depth too, but probably not until I was off work. Getting my panties soaked in arousal while on the job was a big no-no for me. Professionalism was important, after all.

My question got a nod from Devilla, but nothing else. Usually she'd spout some nonsense about how great she was, and then maybe threaten to throw me in the dungeon for doubting her. The fact that she just nodded, instead, was actually a little concerning. Whatever happened at the coronation must have taken a lot out of her.

I wished I could offer her some sympathy, but I knew full well that it would just end up being thrown in my face. Again I wouldn't really mind that, but it would all be over for me if the queen realized I liked that sort of treatment. There was no telling how she'd react if she found out a commoner was getting off to her.

After nodding, the princess went absolutely silent. Standing next to her, my head was still bowed but my eyes were no longer downcast. Actually I was looking right at her, but I was willing to bet she couldn't tell. Since my eyes were pure black, it was nearly impossible to guess where my pupils were actually focused. Not that it was without risk. Thoughts of the princess feeling my gaze flitted through my mind, as I waited for her to command or dismiss me, and I couldn't help but shiver in delight at the thought of what she might do. Oops. I hoped she'd mistake it for fear.

The silence dragged on. The princess didn't seem to care about my shivering and at this point I was more or less staring at her, though I was careful to keep my head bowed so that it looked like I was studying the bed, instead. I was starting to wonder how long I'd be forced to stand there, in silence, when the princess's frown suddenly morphed into an evil grin. I wasn't sure what was going through her mind, but I could only hope that whatever plan she'd just concocted wouldn't involve too many victims. Just me would be fine, though.

I expected her to give me an order after grinning like that, but she didn't. Instead, she started to frown again, apparently lost in thought. Had she hit a snag? It didn't seem to last long, because soon she was grinning again.

Grinning, and looking right at me.

"Hey you," she said. "How would you like to be my personal maid?"

My head snapped up from its bowed position, and I stared at her in shock. I knew that I was asking for trouble, doing that, but I didn't really care. She'd either slap me for my insubordination, or take back the offer. Maybe both, which would be something of a double win.

She did neither. She just looked at me expectantly, as if she were honestly waiting for me to reply. But how exactly was I supposed to respond to this? In the first place, wasn't such a position supposed to be filled by members of the upper echelons? Like, the daughter of a general, or at least the granddaughter of a very wealthy merchant. I was just the daughter of a prostitute. Making connections with my family wouldn't do anything for her!

Wait. Maybe she didn't know that my family was poor? That seemed likely, actually, considering she didn't even know my name. She probably just assumed I was someone of some use. Then if I told her the truth, maybe I could get out of it?

I bowed my head, again, and then snuck a glance at Devilla's face. She was staring at me, still, with a soft smile on her lips. It looked almost gentle, but I wasn't fooled. She was definitely plotting to hurt me if I didn't do what she asked.

Well, unfortunately for her, I actually enjoyed that kinda thing.

"I'm just the daughter of a prostitute, my queen," I explained, keeping my voice soft and respectful. "I'm not worthy of such a position."

I figured that would be enough to get me out of it. As much as I loved being abused, I didn't think I'd be able to maintain my composure if I had to deal with it full time. Besides, while it was a joy to be punished, it was even better getting to dish out punishments to the naughty women who came to see me on my off days, during which I worked at my mother's brothel. While they didn't pay nearly as much as I got just from working as a maid to the princess, the lust they gave off was as much a part of my diet as the physical food I bought with my pay.

To my surprise, however, Devilla gave me a broad smile and said, "That is of no concern to me. In fact, knowing you come from a common background makes me want you even more."

Well crap. I wasn't sure why she wanted someone of common birth, but I didn't think she had anything good planned. It wasn't like I could say no, though, when the queen herself was asking me to be her personal maid. My last hope was to get the queen to change her mind. For that, I only had one weapon at my disposal: honesty. Or partial honesty, at least.

"If I worked here full time, I wouldn't be able to eat," I told her, speaking slowly, as if explaining myself to a child. I knew that I was being insubordinate, but I'd pretty much accepted that I was going to be punished for this. As long as I didn't actually get fired, everything was fine. "I'm a succubus, you know. I need to have plenty of sex to survive. That's why I work as a prostitute on my off days."

"I see," Devilla murmured, much to my surprise. From the face she was making, you'd think she was actually considering what I had to say. I had mostly expected her to get mad at me for not agreeing off the bat, and to pull the offer back as "punishment."

"Then, in that case... Would sex with me be acceptable? We could do it whenever you got hungry."

"I..." Sleep with her? I didn't want to sleep with her! For one thing, as far as I knew, the demon queen had absolutely no experience in sex whatsoever. Up until now, she'd always complained that there was nobody worthy of her attention. I didn't know why she'd suddenly decided a maid was worthy, but she was probably going to be bad in bed. And I couldn't imagine her being open to tips on the subject, either.

"I'm really not worthy," I said. "You'd definitely be better asking one of the other maids. I can introduce you to a good one? Rackeel's mother is a wealthy merchant, so I'm sure she'd be a better fit for you."

"No!" For some reason, Devilla sounded a touch frantic in her response, and it was hard not to raise an eyebrow at it. "I mean... I want you."

"I'm flattered, your majesty," I lied, trying not to gnash my teeth in frustration. "Can I think about it? My shift is almost over, and I'm growing quite hungry..."

"In that case, why don't I feed you myself?" Devilla suggested, tossing off her comforter and standing "Unless that's a problem, of course?"

Dammit! Why had I said I was hungry? I could have kicked myself. There was no taking it back, though. I couldn't just tell the queen that I thought she'd be bad in bed, either, so I reluctantly gave her a little curtsy and moved to undress her.

The dress she wore was buttoned in the back. Most demon clothing is built with an eye toward easy removal, especially among us succubi, but this outfit was for the coronation so it prioritized looks over function. That's why the buttons weren't just in the back, but were somewhat tiny, and difficult to undo. It took me almost three minutes just to get them all off.

Once that was done, though, it was a simple matter of tugging the top off Devilla's shoulders, and then pushing the rest down to the floor. Within half a second of the final button being undone, I had a naked queen standing before me.

It wasn't my first time seeing her naked, of course. I'd helped Devilla undress plenty of times. It was a little different, though, knowing she was naked for me. I'd never appreciated just how fat her ass was, for example. It looked like a single slap would cause it to jiggle beautifully, and I had to physically grab hold of my wrist to hold it back.

The front wasn't half bad either. She had a slender waist, small enough that I could reach around it with a single arm. Her pussy was clean shaven, but you could see a touch of white stubble right above her tight slit. Her breasts were big melons, the sort that would sit heavy on your palm, and her nipples were quite pronounced. They were stiff, too, and judging from how warm the room was I didn't think it was from the cold. Looking again at her slit I could see a faint glistening, liquid reflecting the room's torchlight.

"Does my form displease you?" Devilla asked. She sounded somewhat hesitant. "I... I will understand if you do not wish to sleep with me," she added. She sounded almost nervous. It was... Cute? I'd never thought of the queen as cute before.

"You look gorgeous," I told her, honestly. "I just can't believe I'm about to fuck a queen..."

Ah. Maybe I shouldn't be using such rough language in front of the queen? She was smiling, though, so maybe it was fine? In fact, she was coming toward me for some reason.

"Now it is my turn to undress you," she declared, reaching out to gently take my hands with hers.

"I couldn't ask you to do that," I protested, trying to pull my hands back. Her grip was light, so it should have been simple. It should have been, but it was like my fingers were caught in an iron vice. I knew the queen was strong, but seriously?

"Please..." Devilla said. "I want to pull my own weight tonight."

"I... If you wish, my queen," I replied. I wasn't entirely sure what to say, honestly. It was just plain weird that the queen was showing consideration for me.

My response made Devilla smile, for some reason, and she immediately circled around me. Was she looking for buttons? She wasn't going to find any. My dress was backless, for one thing, and not nearly as fancy as her's besides.

None of that seemed to be a setback for Devilla, though. Since my dress was largely held on by a loop around my neck, she took a hold of it and pulled it gently over my head. That alone was enough to let my dress fall to the floor. I wasn't wearing a bra beneath, either; just a pair of black panties, which I expected her to go after next. Instead the queen slipped her arms around my chest and grabbed a hold of my breasts.