No Hard Feelings

Lila was kneeling in front of the fireplace. Her brush prodded carefully into the corner, ferreted out every last bit of ash. When the Masters of this court assigned a task to you, it paid to do it well. She grimaced, rubbing her reddened knee. It really paid. She set the tin bucket aside and reached for a log. This was when she heard behind her a quiet creak. The handle of the balcony door was turning.

She froze in place, her neck prickling. This was the upper floor. The balcony was beyond anyone's reach but the birds'. Unless...

"Lila," a voice said. A soft growl. That voice. Her pulse quickened.

"Ibris. Not again." She gathered all her willpower before turning around.

But willpower is nothing.

The frame of the lattice door barely enclosed his slender, muscular form. A night-black body against the night sky, barely covered by a scant red tunic, girded with a cloth-of-gold sash. Wings and tail and crescent horns. Long flowing hair, feral youthful ashen face and in it brazen amber eyes, gleaming at her. Lazy, easy lean. Insufferable grace, infuriating beauty.

Carefully she stood up and glowered. No. No! She had promised herself. She kept her voice even.

"Oris is here now, in the castle. He will gut you if he catches you."

He smirked.

"If."

"Why are you even here?"

The incubus approached.

By the dream logic which applied to him he was presently wingless and tailless, a figure all-human except for the horns. And her knees grew weaker and weaker with each swaying step he took towards her. He squared up to her, and smiled.

"I'm here to fuck you, as usual."

She opened her mouth, but voice died in her throat. He watched her. Her shining blue eyes. The one strand of brown hair which fell in a wave over her forehead, as if to stress how irritated she was. And she swallowed, the pit of her neck sinking, and could not respond. Something tender panged fleetingly in his beastly heart. She was just too cute.

She shrieked as he flung her over his shoulder, carried her off to the adjoining bedroom.

"Ibris!" Her fist bounced harmlessly off the muscles of his back. "You fucking piece of shit!"

Might as well punch a stone wall. He had in him demonic strength and a supernatural agility. There was no fighting him.

But that wasn't why he could do what he wanted. The true reason was so much more difficult.

The bedroom was sumptuously furnished for Masters' guests. A creature of fire, he just nodded, and it was instantly bathed in light from the chandeliers and the candelabras. He flung her easily on the canopied bed and before she could right herself in the billowing red velvet he was on top of her, his lips on hers. The tip of his dragon tongue flicked against her lips. And as always, her lips parted. She groaned, ran her tongue across his thick fangs.

The true reason was: she utterly craved this. He was more than a guilty pleasure. He was her loathsome, animal need.

They both knew that she could just tell him to leave. And he'd scowl and growl, and he'd fuck off. And that was his entire little game.

They also both knew that she'd pay for this. They knew that her Master would know at once, and that she'd be worked hard denied favour for days and days, while he'd loiter carefree out in the world. He doubtless thought it was really fucking funny that she didn't stop him, even so. He probably felt really smug.

Her clothes ripped so easily, the little black-and-white servant's dress. He tore her bra off with his fangs, like a panther tears flesh off prey. Exposed, her breasts quivered with her shaking breath.

He straddled her and untied his sash. He removed his tunic slowly, deliberately, let his emerging beauty awe her inch by inch. And when it dropped away from him he just sat on top of her, and permitted himself to be admired.

The ashen-grey colour of his face also covered his throat, and dwindled thin down the middle of his powerful chest, swallowed by the midnight blackness. His clear-cut abs midnight-black, his tapering flanks midnight-black, his sharp hips midnight-black. His cock midnight-black, swaying heavily, lazily, semi-erect, ready to take her at his leisure.

He grabbed her breasts, clawed fingernails digging deep dimples into her flesh. She tossed her head back with a whine, her body as always surrendering to him. He dragged his claws along her ribs, leaving thin stinging white trails on her skin, and down her waist, and under the band of her briefs. His thumbs kneaded into the fabric over her swollen flesh.

"Lila, why is this soaked through? Did I do this to you?"

She looked up, into the red canopy. If there was some way to resist him, then... then she didn't want to know what it was.

"Shut up and do what you must," she spat.

"Rude." He gripped both her ankles with one hand and yanked her up, and his other hand snatched her briefs off and flung them away over his shoulder. He was too swift to even follow. He tossed her wide open like a ragdoll and then he was holding her wrists over her head, and his face was an inch from hers, and his cock's sleek blunt head was pressing against her wet pink folds.

"So rude for someone so eager," he snarled.

She whined and let herself be penetrated with his cock and his eyes alike. Lost in the amber glow she took more and more of his girth, her body in his possession. He gripped hard and his body flexed, candlelight shining along its chiselled furrows. He burrowed himself to the hilt, smothered her clit with his muscular underbelly. She moaned loudly, pleading guilty to her lust for him, and he purred low in his throat.

"Good girl."

One can do little but wail, when fucked by an incubus. She strung out her body and the pit of her stomach sank deep and her ribcage bulged, soft ridges against her skin. His eyes were always on her, glinting with a smirk. Her fine downy eyebrows twisted with unconcealable delight. She knew she was a toy to him. He was using her pleasure to flatter his feral soul, a visible sign of his power. Masturbating with her vulnerability.

His demon cock plunged into her human flesh, burrowing and probing and overfilling. His muscles danced under his sweat-sheened skin. It was such a privilege to see this perfect male body naked and in motion, in motion into her, deeming her worthy of being enjoyed. First sparks of an oncoming orgasm struck all throughout her stomach. He noted that, of course. He could see right through her.

"What did they make you do?" he rasped. "Last time you let me fuck you?"

"Stop talking," she whined. The tickling flames flared.

"I heard that he had you work the scullery for a week. Forbade you to sleep with anyone all that time." She winced. Why did he know that. "I wonder how he will punish you now?"

"Shut the fuck up!" A weak, unconvincing voice, undermined by a rush of savage joy.

He chortled, an unfairly attractive sound. He ruffled her hair.

"Lila, my poor girl, if only you weren't so easy."

He thrust hard into her, and the sound of her name in his mouth, and his cock ramming her guts, made her explode with a loud moan, so much more heartfelt than her words.

He was enjoying this too much, this helpless human girl writhing on his cock like a speared fish. His claws brushed against her cheekbone. His left hand perched on her hip, his thumb kneading into her underbelly just above her clit, so, so unbearably close. She held on bravely - but in the end, she would always crumble before him.

"Let me cum... please let me cum," she pleaded.

"But you were a mean girl, Lila. Telling me to shut up. I am hurt."

"I'm sorry, Ibris!"

"It's like you don't even want me to fuck you." His thumb pressed down, just out of reach, a torturous echo of pleasure. "You have to sway me, girl. You have to beg for that orgasm."

Girl. The word danced in his mouth, soft sung growl. She whined, protested with the last of her will. He already had her, she'd let him do whatever the fuck he wanted with her, why wouldn't he let her keep a shred of dignity?

He took her erect nipple in his mouth, and the sharpness of his fangs pressed against her nerves. She whimpered.

"Please," she heard herself whisper. "Please, please, please."

"Hm?"

"Please make me cum for you. I'm begging you, Ibris. Please, I need this. Please."

A strong pinch on her cheek.

"There's my sweet girl."

His thumb slid down. A creature of sex and fire, his touch bathed her soul in light.

She looked at him, splendid, his back erect and chest thrust forward, a god accepting worship from a grovelling devotee. Her eyes rolled up and her body bucked up from the sheets and she gave herself up, repeated shockwaves, nightmare fireworks, her muscles struggling to clench against his cock, her voice wailing his praise, her mind shattering, shattering, shattering into nothing.

He basked in her orgasm in its entire delirious course, until it left her lying tousled, breathing heavily. That pang of tenderness, again. She was so fun, his delightful little playmate. He could just sit in her afterglow for days.

He buried his face in her soft breasts and thrust, even measured thrusts into her yielding closeness. Half-conscious she sunk her hands into his mane and rested them on his muscular neck. He growled, thrust so hard he dragged her bodily forward on the sheets, and stopped. His cock jolted fiercely in her, and infused her with his demon seed. It was all done. His victory was complete, as it always was.

He didn't have much time now, and yet he lingered. Leisurely caressing her skin, pleased with her, and pleased with himself. She dully watched his hand roam her wherever it wanted. Irritated at how her nerves tittered with relish as it passed.

He cocked his head, picking up some far off sound, and sighed. He got up and stretched, as if to further mock her with the irresistible glory of his body. His satiated cock hung from him dark and thick and corded and glistening with her heat. He hooked his tunic on one finger. He opened the window, jumped on the windowsill, and shot her a smirk.

"You're welcome, girl."

He leaped. She sat up on the edge of the bed. She heard one muffled wingbeat, and then silence. The night reclaimed him.

And then, moving in that same demonic silence, her Master was there.

She just saw his feet and his tail with her downcast eyes. Instinct, upbringing from the human world, told to cover herself. But that would rather pointless. She cast her eyes down further, glumly watched Ibris' cum trickle out of her and soak into the sheets.

"I'm sorry, my Lord," she said.

He lifted her face up by the chin. Gently, deliberately gently.

Humans shouldn't have to look at two of their kind, one right after another. There's too much awe to handle.

If Ibris was a panther, then Oris was a tiger. Towering, imposing, too gorgeous to look away from, even if you really wanted to. She saw her reflection in his scolding scarlet eyes.

"Why must you disobey me so?" His voice rumbled through her bones.

She exhaled.

"Can an incubus lord begrudge anyone for giving in to lust?"

Something flickered through his face. A flash of amusement.

"An incubus lord can discipline a disobedient pet." She bit her lip. He let her go and turned to the window. "At least you'll get off light compared with what I'll do to him. Coming into my home. Playing with my toys."

She shot him a glance.

Cruelty was utterly alien to their nature, really. Him, the Mistress, Ibris. But, god, they could be petty. And they could get you right down to your soul. It was a terrible and beautiful thing, the vengeance of an incubus.

He shut the window.

"Clean up in here. And then come see me."

She bowed to him. To endure terrible and beautiful things - this was the fate she had willingly chosen.

***

The kobolds in the boiler room were plenty confused when Lila trundled in with a bucketful of rags, scouring sponges, and cleaning chemicals. The humans in this castle were the Masters' prized pets: most only ever did light housekeeping work for the demons personally, their strength conserved to serve as the objects of the Masters' ferocious appetites. And besides, no one had scrubbed the boiler in years.

She looked at the great soot-stained bulk, at the mess of brass pipes, chains, and valves creeping ivylike along the walls, and sighed. This would take an entire week.

"One more thing," Oris had said after assigning her this work. "Come here."

He reached for her throat with his russet right hand. She swallowed under his caress, and briefly hoped that he would seize her and bend her over the rosewood table and rage-fuck her. Instead, he fitted around her neck a small black leather collar.

"That is all. You may go."

Her heart fluttered from the heat of his touch. She curtsied.

"Thank you, sir."

In the doorway she almost ran into the Mistress.

The eyes of Tyris, the Lady of Erinome, were black - famously black. When they glimpsed the collar however, they lit up bright with glee. Tyris turned to Oris; though no words were said, you could almost sense their inward laughter, the succubus and the incubus sharing an inside joke. Once alone in the hallway, Lila fingered the collar's flat silver studs. Not the first time a pet was made to wear one of these. Why did the demons find this so funny?

It was now past midnight, and even the kobolds were long gone. She wiped sweat away from her forehead. The bulging vent above the grated door gleamed gold, while the rest of the boiler was as grimy as she'd gotten. Well, this was as good as it was going to get today.

She showered in their common bathroom, and with newfound respect for the hot water hitting her face. It took a long time to wash away the acrid smell. She brushed her hair in front of the long mirror. Fucking Ibris. Stupid piece of shit. Always getting her in trouble. Thinks he's hot shit, with his demon body and his teasing beautiful voice.

She tossed the brush away and looked herself in the eyes. She groaned. Oh for every single fuck's sake.

She hauled herself onto the marble sink countertop and reached between her legs. His stupid fucking amber eyes and his stupid fucking black flowing mane. She peevishly circled her clit. His stupid fucking chest and his stupid fucking shoulders and his stupid fucking thighs and his stupid fucking calves. Her breath quickened. Pulse up, swelling, wetness. She slipped the fingers of her other hand inside and arched her back. His stupid fucking abs. She moaned. Stupid fucking vein that bulges rootlike on his stupid fucking thick shaft. His stupid fucking laughter when he mocks her.

Her mouth twitched as she got to the edge of her stupid fucking orgasm. She closed her eyes, said his name, lost herself in the sound of his voice, the scent of his sweat...

And on the edge she remained, unable to fall, all muscles tingling and ready to spasm, her stomach butterfly-tickling, fingers gliding. She opened her eyes and took a few breaths. What the fuck? She rubbed her clit again, quickly built up back to the edge, and she could almost grasp it, it was at the end of her fingertips... and it wouldn't come. And suddenly she became aware of a tiny quavering around her neck.

Her fingers flew to the collar. It was trilling all by its own, with faint magical energy.

"Oh, no. Oh, no, no, you fucking did not."

She tossed her towel over her shoulder and bolted out into the deserted hallways. She ran up the stairs and burst into the humans' common bedroom. It was deserted except for the bed right by the door, where Dace lay sleeping, face tucked into his arm. Yes, perfect. She shook him.

"Lila?" he muttered. "What is it?"

"Dace, remember last week, when we were fucking in the kitchen, and you did that thing that I really really liked?"

The boy sat up and pinched his nose between his eyebrows. "Yeah. What time is it?" She gripped him hard.

"Can you do it again quick?" He fell back onto the pillow.

"Fucksakes Lila, can't you wait until the morning?" She put her hand on his cheek.

"Please do it now? I need to check something. I'll owe you one. Please? Please?"

He opened one eye and regarded the beautiful girl kneeling at his bedside and begging him to fuck her. He rolled said eye, and sat up again with a grumpy groan. He was such a people pleaser, he thought. He needed to stand up for himself more.

Some time later Sofie returned to the bedroom from a long night at the orchard. From the hallway she heard the sound of two bodies clapping together, and muffled moans. She sighed. This better be just a quickie, she wanted to sleep.

She opened the door and glanced at Dace nailing Lila from behind.

"Sup guys," she said indifferently. She marched to the table in the middle and hauled her canvas bag onto it. She let loose her hair.

"It isn't working," she heard Lila whine. The clapping stopped.

"Doesn't it feel good?"

"It feels so fucking good! I've been on the edge for like two fucking minutes! I think this collar doesn't let me cum!"

Sofie swivelled around.

"Girl, what."

Lila tugged at her collar angrily.

"Oris gave it to me. This is my punishment, I think."

"Shit, what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything. But Ibris did me. Again."

Sofie smirked.

"Oh man. Alright, we'll see about this." She re-tied her hair. She walked over to Lila and cracked her neck. She circled her finger in the air. "Girl, sit on the bed, legs wide. Nobody resists my mouth, curse or no curse."

Sofie was an oral poet. She was unparalleled. When her mouth closed over Lila's clit, and the gentle pulsing sucking began, Lila purred. Sofie would sometimes pause, tease with the tip of her tongue, and begin anew. Her thumbs kneaded the inner thighs in gentle circles. Dace put his arm around Lila's neck and kissed her breasts. She moaned sweetly. It didn't get any better than this. It was heaven.

And she still didn't fucking come.

"Alright, stop, please stop." Her friends took their mouths off her and looked at her.

"I think you're right," Dace said, "the collar is all vibrating like. Sending your energy away."

Sofie licked her numb lips. "Well it certainly ain't my technique, so it must be magic." It still stung her pride to watch someone not cum from oral she performed. Then it occurred to her that Dace's erect cock was just inches from her face.

"It's the only expl-ah!" Dace jolted and then chortled, plunged by surprise into softness and warmth. Lila tugged at the leather.

"It's their favourite punishment, isn't it. Tease and deny."

"That's rigggmhm, mhm," Dace bucked bodily, and Sofie's tongue undid his tongue, trilled against the very tip of his cock, astonishingly fast and just with perfect lightness, like only she could. Lila watched the squirming boy with envy, and then leaned in and sucked on his nipple. His throat twanged out a very high note and his fingers clenched on her hair. She pressed her forehead against his chest, trying to experience second-hand the shocks of climax surging through his body. Then she lay there in silence, watching Sofie lick his cock clean with her terrific tongue.

"Sofie," he murmured, "you're an artist, and I'm your biggest fan."

The girl affirmed with a nod. She carefully gripped with her mouth the last drop of cum at his slit, and then slowly, precisely pulled it out, never breaking the strand.

"Do the kitchen trick on her as thanks, it's really good," Lila said glumly. He patted her back.

"Oh, don't worry. Oris doesn't hold grudges, he'll forgive you soon enough."

"Yeah," Sofie licked her lips. "He'll make you crawl for it though."

Lila got up and tossed the towel over herself. Her nerves felt heavy, dull with disappointment.

"Yeah. Okay, come, let's wash ourselves. I need a cold shower."

"How is that collar fixed by the way?" Dace asked. "Magic or a lock?"