The sun crept above the horizon. It would have sent thin slivers of light playing across the face of the sleeping Hidden Master if not for the thick curtains preventing even the faintest illumination from the outside world. The Master did not like to be woken up. Unfortunately, that was the maid’s exact duty this morning. Master had wanted to be woken at first light. He wouldn’t be happy, but he’d be even less happy to oversleep.
Of course, the kikimora knew that the Hidden Master wouldn’t think to blame her, she just wasn’t a fan of anything making him cross. She moved to gently place her hand on the Master’s head. She noted the disheveled look of his long, blonde braid. It was a venerable lion’s mane, reaching down to even his ankles. She did not approve of such a wild look, and would have to talk to him about letting his hair get so out of hand, but she supposed she should just focus on the current task, not wanting her beratement to be the first thing to greet him to the waking world.
She leaned down to whisper into his ear. “Master,” she said, her voice like a gentle breeze, “You wanted to wake up now.” The Hidden Master stirred, an unintelligible groan escaping him as he tried to bury his face into the pillows further, as if to escape the waking world by burrowing into his bed. “Now now,” the kikimora said gently, “You said you had something to do today. You’ll miss it if you sleep too late.” The words seemed to mull around in the Master’s head as his brain worked to interpret the message through the haze of sleep. He gave a short, relenting grunt. “All right, all right.” he said, “Just, give me a few minutes to compose myself.” The kikimora nodded, “Of course, Master.” she said before heading off to continue her morning routine.
Siris, the elusive Master of the legendary Hidden Monastery. An enigma written about in many books, believed by some to be no more than a myth. One of the oldest incubuses alive, the legends stated, the tales were many, and colorful in substance.
The tales stated how Siris was once married to a shiroebi, and how fate had saw her to an early grave, leaving Siris with the white snake’s blue fire burning in his very soul.
The tales go on to tell of Siris’ quest to quench the growing desire within him, an insatiable lust that could not be quelled without his wife. The more adventurous tales detail elaborate adventures undertaken in his search for the highest tiers and lowest depths of pleasure, nearly going mad before he finally found his relief. Though the tales all ended the same way, with Siris founding the Hidden Monastery, the legendary place where one could go to learn to tame the lust within.
Currently, Siris did not feel so enigmatic or legendary. He felt tired, and his half-lidded eyes tried their best to close shut even as he moved to sit on the side of his bed, leaned over his knees and his head hanging in his hands. He took a few deep breaths, before standing up and stretching his muscles. He gave a groan as he stretched out his cramped muscles, the blankets falling fully away to reveal his naked form.
He was decidedly pale, as if he never saw the sun. His skin was flawless, and his hair, though disheveled, was smooth with a pleasant sheen. It was the color of bright sunflowers, and held together with blue ribbons. The soft features of his face were contorted into a tight-lipped expression as he stretched again. He was a handsome creature, though he sometimes wondered how much of his allure was due to the demonic energy that saturated his soul. Whatever truth there were to the legends, there was no doubt that the Hidden Master’s spirit energy was among the strongest in the world. Without mediation, it would have shone like a beacon for miles around. Siris was an incubus, through and through, with a power that did not betray the legends. His body sought to remind him of this particular fact as his morning arousal stood straight up as if to get his attention.
Siris briefly considered calling Vera, his kikimora maid back to the room, but shrugged it off. She would likely already be back to her morning routine, and she always got so pouty whenever she didn’t finish her morning cleaning. Vera liked to play the abused maid, but Siris enjoyed the game. It was fun to watch her try to resist, only to melt under his administrations. Siris decided that such a game would take too long, however. He did have a schedule to keep.
Still, thinking of the scantily clad maid bent over the table she was trying to wipe down brought a tightening discomfort to the Master’s groin, and he decided that something did need to be done about it, even if he wouldn’t use his maid for the task. The Hidden Master took a few groggy steps, then set out into the Monastery proper to find his cat.
Siris half wandered, still half asleep, his eyes half closed, with only half an idea as to where he was going. He hadn’t bothered donning even a robe, venturing stark naked through the halls of the Monastery. He met some of the other denizens, though they were but unfocused blurs to the Master’s eyes. They called out greetings of the morning to him, which were answered only by unintelligible grunts. Others averted their gaze and wandered away from the meandering Master, Siris paid them little mind.
The Hidden Master was not a morning person. He knew that he really ought not to be wandering through the halls naked. Even if he was a demonically attractive male, not all of the Monastery’s denizens were demonic. There were humans who had come to learn, even some who still clung to the looser interpretations of the teachings of The Order. The more conservative of the residents would likely not approve of Siris so blatantly flaunting his shame. In his sleep addled state, he’d tell them all precisely where they could shove their opinions. As far as Siris was concerned, this was his Monastery and he’d do what he damned well pleased inside of it.
Siris wandered until he found what he was looking for. His pet cat lay curled under an orange blanket. Well, not so much a blanket as an orange robe. Siris’ orange robe, to be exact. Holly, the werecat, had often stolen his clothes to sleep in them if he did not spend the night with her. The Master could not bring himself to discourage her from the practice, however, given that her excuse was always that she merely did not like sleeping away from his bed, and the robe smelled of his scent.
The orange robe rose and fell with the breathing of Siris’ pet, and the Master approached the couch. Siris had taken so long to find her because this was not her room. It was the reading room, the closest thing the Monastery had to a library. It housed books upon books on the shelves along the walls, and a fireplace to provide light during the dark hours. Siris shook his head, sighing a bit. He should have known she’d be there, winter was almost upon them, after all. The coming months would bring a chill on the air, a chill that Holly did not favor. Siris had very little doubt that this would not be the first time he would find his cat curled up with his robe in front of a dying fire of glowing coals.
Siris slowly approached Holly with his sleepy trudge. He stood in front of the sleeping cat, admiring her lithe form, and the particular way that his robe managed to completely fail at hiding her amble cleavage. Holly might have been a werecat, but her chest could have given a holstaurus an inferiority complex. He ran his hand through her long, silky brown hair, stopping to gently rub her black ears with his thumb and forefinger. Holly gave a mrowl, stirring at the dull sensation of her master’s affections. The Master moved his hand to slide under his orange robe, and gently stroked the soft fur of Holly’s tail. Siris smiled down at her as her eyelids fluttered open.
Laying curled on her side, Holly gave a deep breath, sighing contentedly as she enjoyed Siris’ petting of her ears and tail, looking up at him with her stark yellow eyes, gazing at her Master with a return smile. “Good morning, Mast-agph!” she gave a muffled cry as with one fluid motion, Siris unceremoniously slid his cock into her vulnerable mouth with a soft “Shhhhh…”
Siris’ shush drew out into a sigh, his length pressing between Holly’s lips, running over her tongue and almost disappearing into her throat. “Mmmm, hmm…” he groaned out even through his sleep addled state as his cock was enveloped by the warm, wet, feline mouth.
To her credit, after the initial surprise, Holly gave a soft moan as her master’s taste flooded over her tongue. The first drops of his precum, which were often the densest by concentration with his spirit energy, ran down her throat. It spread a warm, pleasant feeling through her core, like a stiff drink made specifically to her taste. Siris’ spirit energy was the strongest she’d ever tasted, and she doubted that she’d ever find it’s like anywhere else in the world. Lesser monsters would found themselves clouded in the taste, and would try to attack the Master if only to milk more of the delicious drops from his thick member.
Holly, however, was all too accustomed to the the taste and the pleasure of her Master. She had been his pet cat for many years, and it was a taste she reveled in. She never lost herself in it, however, instead enjoying the intense pleasures that the serum of the incubus wrought within her with such a clarity that it made her thankful that she did not go feral at the first taste. Siris gave a shuddering sigh of pleasure, “I always did love that slightly rough tongue of yours…” he said, his head tilting back while his eyes closed and his mouth hung open in sheer delight. “It always feels amazing.” he said down at her.
The intricacies of the pleasure were not lost on the pet werecat. Her skin tingled, her blood rushed hot, her eyes even glassed over as Siris pulled his length back out of her mouth, her tongue eagerly folding up and around the shaft as he slid it over it. He did not withdraw completely, and was soon pressing himself back into the depths of her maw, much to her delight. Her tongue roamed the span of his shaft, eager to spread his delectable taste over every inch of her mouth. The more she tasted, the more it’s tingling pleasure spread from her core to seemingly every part of her body. If it went on long enough, Holly knew that she would eventually orgasm herself just from the taste of the incubus’ spirit energy filling her.
Holly knew exactly where the taste would be strongest, and wasted no time in using her dexterous tongue to run the underside of where his cock head met the shaft. Not only did she get her wish of flooding her mouth with the taste she loved so much, Siris gave approving murmurs and groans of appreciation when her tongue ran under that most sensitive spot. She knew he was most sensitive under the glans, and her tongue danced gracefully along it, lavishing the Master’s cock with a fervent affection.
Siris’ moans grew louder. He grabbed handfuls of her silky brown hair, wrapping them in his palms to take a firm grip. He then used his leverage to steady her head as he bucked his hips. At first, Holly followed his movements, loathe to let even the slightest bit of his cock leave the confines of her mouth while she was busy savoring his taste, but a quick jerk of her hair reminded her that she was there for his pleasure, not her own. She dutifully fell into place with Siris’ thrusts, her tongue now moving with his cock as he fucked the catgirl’s obedient face.
To her credit, Holly was only out of stride for a brief second, before her tongue was back to waltzing along his length, putting a practiced amount of pressure on spots that she was adept at hitting. The edges of her mouth curled into a satisfied smile as she felt Siris’ thrusts grow in pace, his groans growing louder even as he tried to stifle them. She gave muffled little hums, diligently using her mouth for things other than making noise. Every nerve she effortlessly flayed with her tongue rewarded her with more of the Master’s delicious precum. She gazed up at Siris with her striking yellow eyes with the vertical slits. One of her paws went lazily upward to cradle the Master’s hanging orbs with the soft embrace of her pawpads.
Siris’ breathing became fast, and labored, and Holly knew the Master was approaching his orgasm. His cock twitched between her cheeks as his thrusts shoved his head almost into her throat, all the while leaking out even more of the precum she eagerly lapped up. She gave soft, muffled moans of encouragement, knowing full well not to break stride for the sake of pillow talk. She just continued to enjoy the proverbial ride as Siris enjoyed the literal one. Holly noted the Master’s toes curl, and smiled inwardly to herself, proud of a job well done as she fully expected what happened next.
Siris’s cock twitched once in warning before a torrent of cum flooded the werecat’s mouth. His heels dug into the floor as he gave a final thrust. He tried to steady himself as his orgasm came in a rush of electricity, shooting through his brain and erasing all thoughts of sleep, the morning, and indeed, every thought that was not about the werecat’s tight mouth. His cock head plowed right over Holly’s feline tongue, and indeed rested just into the back of her mouth as he came right down her throat, a torrent of his warm, sticky fluid pouring into the catgirl’s stomach.
Holly was expecting this, and as she had done so many times before, she relaxed her reflexes and swallowed everything. She did not even think of gagging as she swallowed the incubus’ milk with greedy succor, even after her belly felt full. She knew the Master would not be pleased if she made a mess. Even more, her succubus nature as a demonic resident wouldn’t forgive her if she spilled and wasted the delicious white cream. She swallowed and swallowed, Siris’ cock still at the back of her throat and filling her. The gulping motion sent her throat muscles rippling across the Master’s length, only serving to coax every last drop out of his formidable shaft.
Holly could not stop herself, her body wouldn’t let her, she swallowed until her belly started to bulge forth, completely full of incubus cum. With that much of the Master’s spirit energy sent straight to her core, Holly felt herself orgasm as wave after wave of his soul energy sent supercharged tingles firing out of her center to every pore of her body, and still she did not stop drinking until there was no more to coax out of the drained Master. She felt Siris, spent and weary, start to withdraw. She stopped him before his head popped free of her lips, and instead gave him a few small suckles of his sensitive head, before a final lick from the base to the tip allowed her to swallow the remnants of their session, and Siris all but collapsed on the couch. His breathing came in labored breaths, and Holly wearily rose to her own feet before moving to him. She placed a single kiss on his forehead before she curled up into the crook of his arm, giving a groan as a bit of pressure was pressed against her cum-distended belly. “Thanks for breakfast~” she cooed into his ear as she leaned against him, resting her head on his chest.
Siris gave a small laugh before he patted her head, running his fingers through her hair. “Thanks for the wake up, my dear.” The Master then stood, and gave a final stretch. His orgasm had invigorated him, and he felt ready to face the day even though the sun had only just cleared the horizon. Feeling a bit more modest now, he grabbed his orange robe from the couch, despite a squeak of protest from his cat. He gave her a final ruffle as she lay her back onto the couch, her bulging stomach rising laboredly with each breath. She turned to her side, and Siris stoked the fire a bit before heading out. “Take care, Holly~” he said with a wave.
Siris walked through the monastery, noting the blush of certain residents, and the flush of certain others. He guessed more people saw him that he thought, and he drew his robe about himself. He shrugged inwardly, not really bothered with the idea. Most of the residents of the Monastery had, or would, eventually see him naked. It was only a question of when and how. Siris was of the opinion that trudging sleepily through the monastery was just about the tamest sort of initiation they could hope for.
The Hidden Master wandered on, out of the Monastery and over the grounds. He walked along a cobbled path that led to the face of the mountain behind the plateau the Monastery was built upon. A waterfall cascaded down the mountain face into a small pool. The pool narrowed into a stream that ran off further down the mountain, and the Master walked across a small bridge over the running water.
He arrived at the waterfall pool, and removed his robe once again. He looked out into the pool and smiled. In the pool were several wooden poles jutting out from the water’s surface. Balanced atop one of these poles, was a familiar site. Quill, his little kitsune acolyte, stood balanced on one foot, her four tails jutting out at specific angles to help her balance. She had come to him years prior, and asked to be trained under the Master. Siris had been suspicious at first, but then the little fox had made him an offer he could not refuse.
After just a few short decades under his tutelage, Quill had blossomed from an inexperienced one tail, to a four-tailed kitsune. She still had more training to go through if Siris was to teach her everything he knew, but the Master was confident in her progress. He walked up to inspect her form, yet Quill did not give any indication that she’d noticed him. Siris had no doubt that she was aware of his presence, but Quill was disciplined enough to ignore it, not that she needed a reason to try to ignore the Master. It was often her default reaction to him.
Siris walked forward and draped his robe over the outstretched tail of the little kitsune, it caused her to falter a bit, the new weight shifting her delicate balance. “Doing good, my little acolyte.” he said with a laugh. Quill ignored him again, thoroughly intent on maintaining her aloof appearance. Siris shook his head, before unceremoniously picking up the hem of Quill’s robe, exposing her round ass with her dripping folds exposed. She twitched as the cold air hit her, but did not break her balance. The Master had forbidden her from wearing underwear, so it was no surprise that there was nothing under Quill’s robe but the soft flesh of the fox girl. He reached out to rub her most sensitive place gently, a wry smirk on his face as he wondered if he could see just how long the fox could ignore him.
He felt a familiar stirring within him at the sight of the vulnerable fox girl. He wanted to see how long before she broke, his mind raced with visions of fucking her until he cracked through every ounce of resistance she could muster. He saw in his mind’s eye, Quill’s tongue lolling out, her eyes rolled into the back of her head as he fucked her until her body would accept no other taste than his. He’d fuck her until she couldn’t talk or think of anything but his cock, her only wish would be to fill her needy pussy with his warm cum.
Siris saw a shadow out of the corner of his eye, and turned. A grey tentacle hovered right over his shoulder, a flared cockhead at it’s tip. It’s shaft was ribbed and slick with slime, it hovered hesitantly, pointed right at the fox girl’s exposed ass. Siris focused and willed the tentacle back into the black pool of inky black tar that ran down his back.
So saturated with demonic energy was Siris that at his most unfocused, it would seep out of every pore like sweat. The energy often congealed into a black pool of inky energy from which his tentacle sprouted. Tentacles that were as much a part of him than any other appendage. His glamour of a flawless humanoid was only part of his whole, a fact of which only his closest friends were aware of. Suppressed within himself were the vestiges of countless experiments in eromancy that left his inner self twisted and contorted. Were it not for his effort of will, his lust would erupt from inside of his body, his form changing into the likes of which could falter even the most hardened of monsters.
Siris willed his tentacle back into the formless black energy, then focused on reining in his demonic signature. He had momentarily lost himself in his musings, allowing his lust to spur his body into action, but Siris had been that way for centuries. He dismissed the thoughts with little more than shaking off a mild hunger or a light sleep. He left his orange robe on the fox girl’s tails, much to her chagrin at being used as a hanger, then moved through the water and stood under the waterfall.
The water cooled his heated desires and washed away the vestigial fluids of the werecat. He moved to the cliff face behind the waterfall, standing waist-deep in the pool. Inside of a little rock alcove sat his soaps. He quickly washed his body and then set about the tedious work of cleaning his flowing braid. It was mindless work, and Siris much preferred to leave the job to someone else, but there was no one at the moment. Quill was busy training, and while he loved to mess with her, he knew that if he were to call her over and set her to washing him, he’d inevitably lose the day in her embrace, and this was not a day he wanted to lose.
Holly could have done it, and Vera as well. Though the end result would be the same. With that fact in mind, Siris spent a long while washing his braid and rubbing it with scented oils. The Hidden Master then moved out of the waterfall, and wiped the water out of his eyes. He blinked the drops away and moved toward where he’d left his robe.
Quill once again tried to ignore Siris’ approach, but could not help from audibly voicing her displeasure and shock once the Hidden Master set about to using her tails to dry off. “God dammit, it wasn’t enough that you used me as a hanging rack, but now you have to use me as a towel, too!?” she screeched, desperately trying to maintain balance. The Hidden Master said nothing as he dried his face and arms on one of Quill’s tails.
“Well!? Aren’t you going to say anything!?” she continued, almost teetering off the pole. Siris gave a subtle yank, pulling the little fox back to balance. He didn’t want to completely throw her balance training, but he was convinced that increasing the difficulty couldn’t hurt for a bit. He finished drying himself off, eliciting further cries of protest as he used one of her tails to dry between his legs. Amidst curses and sputtering from Quill, Siris collected his robe and moved toward the bank. As he dressed, he could hear a snide comment ring out, “I don’t even know why I’m up here. What does balancing on a pole have to do with adventuring?”
“Balance is a very underestimated skill.” Siris said flatly, pulling his robe about him and fastening the cinch. ”Besides,” he continued, flashing her a smirk, “You really ought to know how to stay atop a pole.” He did not bother watching her face to know that it reddened considerably with both indignance and embarrassment before striding back toward the Monastery.
Siris walked down the main path, he greeted the masters and acolytes of various professions within his home. It was a passing greeting, nothing more, as Siris moved outside of the main gate. He passed the stables, noting the green-maned black stallion chewing hay. Siris shook his head, not daring to even try to take Boris out for a ride. Sure, the distance would be shorter on Boris’ back, but he’d made the mistake of attempting to mount the horse only once before, and to disastrous effect. It seemed that no matter how many times Siris mounted Quill, her horse would not relinquish so easily.
Siris thought about how far he had to walk, and the prospect of riding became more and more attractive, however. He moved out to a clear patch of grass, and put his fingers to his lips. Then, he blew a shrill whistle, and the sound reverberated off of the face of the mountain. Not only did the sound reverberate off of the rocks, but it also rippled out along the sensation of Siris’ demonic signature, and to all of those sensitive to it. Denizens of the Monastery would have felt an odd sense of vertigo followed by a sudden desire to get naked and fuck like animals. Most of the residents were strong enough to shake this fleeting desire off, others would give into it for the better part of the day.
There was another being that felt the ripple, and a large shadow soon passed over the clearing where Siris stood as a great red bird flew away from its nest in the mountaintops. It landed with a rush of air in front of Siris, towering over him. Indeed, the incubus only came to the great bird’s heaving chest, and each of its wings were wider than it was tall. So long, too, were its swooping tailfeathers. Siris beamed a wide smile as he moved forward to embrace the giant avian in the soft white down of its underbelly that contrasted its brilliant red and gold plumage.
“Horus, my friend. So glad you could come.” he said, the great bird answering with only a “Qwork?” Siris stepped back. “I need to fly to the edge of the Kingdom, near the demonic border.” he asked with an apologetic smile. Horus answered with a screeching “Caw!” almost offended at being called down to fly Siris to his destination. Horus was a proud bird, not to be called down over trivial things. His sudden cry and the gust of wind that blew with it knocked Siris to the ground, where he landed with a grunt. “Horus, please. Don’t be that way.” he said, but Horus only looked in the opposite direction with a swivel of his head. Siris was glad to see that his avian friend had not taken the insult and immediately flown away.
Horus was a roc, a giant bird attuned to the winds much in the same way an elemental was. Siris have never seen his like before or after his meeting with Horus, and it was a mystery why the bird had not succumbed to demonic energy like the harpies or the tengu. Siris could only suppose because Horus was just a large bird, that perhaps rocs were closer in kind to their smaller cousins than to true monsters. Or just maybe there was something else amiss with the great roc, but Siris never really saw fit to investigate the instance fully. Horus was his friend, for whatever reason the great bird’s animalistic stature.
“Horus, a friend could be in danger.” Siris said after trying to think of an excuse. While technically true, he didn’t really think his friend was in danger. The excuse was just convenient to give a dramatic enough reason to call down the prideful bird. The ruse apparently worked, and Horus brought his head back around to look concerned at Siris. Or at least, Siris assumed that’s what a bird would look like if it was concerned. The incubus nodded, “We must make haste.” he said. Deciding to risk a breach of protocol with the roc, prideful as it was, Siris moved to Horus’ side and hopped up onto its back.
Normally, Siris had to wait for Horus’ approval to mount him, but Siris gambled that such a breach in protocol might convey that he really was concerned about his friend. Siris was delighted to see that Horus did not resist, and indeed dipped its back low to make Siris’ mounting easier.
Siris felt a little guilty in lying to Horus, but only just. He resolved to spend the next day fishing, and he’d leave his entire catch out for the roc to enjoy. Horus might be a proud bird, but even the most prideful of birds would be hard pressed to resist an apology in the form of a pile of free fish.
Siris felt the ground leave his feet and the rush of wind tussle his braid as Horus took to the skies with only a few beats of its mighty wings. Siris leaned down, wrapping his arms around the roc’s neck, almost afraid to fall as Horus flew at speeds he had never flown before. As the ground whipped by beneath him in a brown green blur, Siris resolved to spend two days fishing.
Horus flew them along at a breathtaking speed, and Siris did not even have time to become comfortable before he saw the horizon darken with the demonic realm border. They weren’t crossing in, just going to the edge. However, when a long plume of black smoke marred the otherwise serene visage of the countryside, Siris felt his stomach rise into his chest. The smoke was coming from precisely his destination. “Hurry, Horus…” he whispered, more to himself than the bird, as the great roc swooped into a steep dive.
Siris looked in horror as they neared the burning building. A large wooden shack, almost like a barn, stood smoldering in the middle of the field, still belching plumes of smoke into the air. Siris leaped off of Horus almost before the bird landed, and rolled to his feet, sprinting toward the building. “Monica! No!” he cried, willing his feet to carry him faster, ready to burst into the flames with one bounding leap.
“Siris!” a cry from behind him stopped him cold in his tracks. He wheeled around to see a girl in a white and blue dress calling out to him. He sprinted again, this time in the opposite direction, making a beeline for the girl. He almost tackled her to the ground as he came to a skidding halt and threw his arms around her. “Monica!” he cried again, this time in relief. Luckily for them, the girl was deceptively strong for her waifish stature, and managed to maintain her balance against the force of the incubus’ hug. “It’s good to see you, Siris.” she said, returning his hug. “…Were you seriously going to run in there?” she asked incredulously.
Siris let go of the hug and nodded, shrugging nonchalantly. “Trust me, my dear. It would take far more than a burning building to stop me from getting at you, heheh.” he said, his laugh ringing out melodically. His eyes wandered the familiar visage of his friend, as if to confirm she was really in front of him. She was pale, almost milky in her complexion, with ash-colored hair. Monica rolled her eyes, then glared at Siris as she caught him staring at her admittedly small chest. “Flattering, but hardly unsurprising. No doubt you were imagining the possible rewards more than my own safety.”
Siris gave a look of shock, “Why, my dear, of course not! You wound this poor soul. Your words cut like acid steel, and I fear my heart cannot take such venom coming from such a lovely face.” he said, clutching his heart dramatically. Monica gave another eye roll. “Fool.” she said in a voice that was softer than she meant. It did mean a lot to her that he would have braved the conflagration to ensure her safety, but she was not entirely taken. He was an incubus, after all, and she suspected that it would indeed take a lot more than a smouldering building to truly harm him. Still, it was the thought that counted, she supposed.
Siris took a breath, still beaming his relieved smile at her. “So,” he said, looking back to the charred building, and his smile falling a little. “Why is your shop on fire?” Monica’s face grew grim, and Siris’ smile faded. The girl took a deep breath. “The Order.” she said in a disdainful tone. Siris gave a confused look. “The Order?” he said, “Why would they want to burn down a milk shop?” he asked disbelievingly.
Monica glared at him, not approving of his tone. She shook her head, her expression softening as she recounted the tale. “They said that being at the demonic border invited corruption. They claimed that they found demonic taint in one of the cows, and said that they had to purge them for the sake of the realm.” Her teeth gritted and her small hands curled into fists, remembering the way they had torched her farm. Mercifully, the soldiers had slain the cows before setting everything alight, but Monica still felt the loss greatly. Siris drew her into another hug, gentler this time, and Monica allowed it. She did not embrace back, only attempted to cease her trembling at recounting the tale from that morning. She did not cry, for she had no tears left to shed. They lay hidden in the grass at her feet, and indeed, the appearance of the incubus running into the flames had been the only first to bring her out of the shock she’d felt at her livelihood being destroyed.
Monica had always feared for this day to come. She feared a lot of things, but setting up her milk shop near the demonic border had rewarded her bravado with demonic customers willing to venture across the border to her shop. To her chagrin, she had learned far too late that demonic currency was entirely too vivid in appearance, and The Order would never have taken well if she tried to use it within the Kingdom. Still, she managed to buy certain small things off of traveling demons, though far too often the monstrous denizens of the demon realm did not come to buy milk or milk products, but only to see if Monica would be interested in joining them, or with offers of wanting to milk her. Not to say much of her human customers, or at least those that would still be willing to buy from her despite her location and the suspected demonic dealings. No, Monica’s dreams of selling milk and butter to both Kingdoms seemed a pipe dream, crushed under the weight of the reality regarding the relationships of demons and humans.
Still, meager a living as it was, Monica could not help but feel a great sense of loss as the fires died down and the charcoal remains of her shop stood as a silent obelisk to her former dreams. She felt the incubus gently run his hands over her back in a reassuring pat before he pulled away, steadying her with his hands on her upper arms. “It’s gonna be okay…” he tried to reassure her, though he wasn’t exactly sure how. Monica just stared silently at the burned husk of a building before Siris voiced his next thought.
“So what are you gonna do?” he asked. Monica shrugged, her eyes blinking rapidly as they suddenly felt awfully dry. “I don’t know…”
“Did you have any money saved up?” Siris asked. She shook her head. “No, Siris. I didn’t live that well to have spare money. Everything I earned went back into the shop. There’s nothing.” she said, pulling away. She turned to walk toward the ruins, but stopped after a few steps, realizing the futility of it. “I suppose I’ll have to go back to the Capitol. The Bank of the Order might be able to advance me some more money on my loan. I mean, I still owe them some, but it’s not like it’s my fault that they killed my cows. They just have to loan me more and I can get the shop up and running again…”
Siris listened to his friend talk, but his smile slowly retracted. The Bank of the Order was not known for it’s generosity when dealing with commoners. Especially commoners that still owed them money. Monica continued to talk of plans of getting more money loaned in an increasingly frantic pace. She talked faster with each word as if she were trying to convince herself. Siris watched her, his smile slowly turning into a look of concern. He didn’t exactly know what the Order would do, but a hundred images from tales of commoners who could not pay the Bank their dues floated through his mind’s eye. Siris could not, would not allow the Bank or the Order to get its hands on his friend. He silently creeped up behind Monica, and put his hands on her shoulders. “Relax.” he said, his demonic energy flooding through Monica’s body in the form of a spell. “Just relax, and everything will be okay.” the incubus said. The words and the soothing energy clouded her mind and she went slack into his arms. He continue to whisper comforting words into her ear and soon she fell into unconsciousness.
Hours passed, and Siris spirited Monica away back to the Monastery with the help of Horus, though the great roc screeched it’s disapproval at Siris’ tactics. Though it did not approve, it still flew Siris and the unconscious girl back to the Monastery. According to Horus, it seemed, the care of Siris was most likely better than risking the Order’s judgement. The Order was not known for its leniency on any matter.
Monica woke to find her muscles a bit cramped. She tried to move, but her arms seemed to be locked behind her. The soft bed underneath her would have been a comfort, but she seemed to be bent over it. She found purchase with her feet, and tried to step away, but her ankles proved chained as well. She gave a startled cry as she attempted to pull back, but the chains were taught and unyielding.
“Please try not to struggle, my dear.” came the familiar voice of Siris in front of her. She looked ahead, and glared. “What!?” she said, “What’s going on!? Let me go!” she yelled at him, though he did not move. He looked at her with an apologetic expression. “Just relax, please. I only want to talk.”
“Bullshit!” she cried. “Then why am I chained bent over your bed?” she said, and as an afterthought, looked down to herself. “And I’m naked! You undressed me you filthy old pervert! What did you do to me while I was asleep!?” she demanded.
Siris shook his head. “Nothing, Monica. I promise.” he said in a sincere voice. “I just want to make you an offer.” Monica felt her rage subsiding a bit hearing the honesty in his voice, but not by much. She did lower her tone a bit. “What offer?” she said flatly, “Just because we’ve had sex before doesn’t mean you can just tie me to your bed whenever you feel like it!”
Siris gave a small laugh. “Noted, my dear Monica. I just want to say that I can ensure the continuation of your business without having to go through the Order Bank to do it.” he took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to go back.” he said calmly. “I don’t trust that you won’t be thrown into a dungeon for nonpayment or taken as a slave and sold to recomp their losses.” Monica mulled his words over, then looked at her restraints. “And the chains? Why am I chained, Siris?”
The truth was that Siris was going to proceed with his plan regardless. Monica was proud, but he didn’t want her pride to march her back to the lion’s den of the capitol city. “I didn’t want you running off, heheh…” he said. She rolled her eyes, “All right, what offer is this you want to make?” Siris gave a laugh, and started unbuttoning his robes. Monica shifted uncomfortably, “H-Hey! What do you think you’re doing! Fucking me isn’t going to make everything better!” she protested.
Siris moved over and reached out to run his nails gently over her milky white skin, scratching her bare back in a way that made her twist. It wasn’t as if it hurt her, but the fact that she was enjoying it made her all that more protestful. “Damn you…” she said as he continued to lightly run his nails across her skin. “If you wanted to fuck, you could have at least tried to be subtle…” she said, looking down, almost ashamed at how much she enjoyed his touch. Monica lived a solitary life, and she liked it that way. Still, she was always reluctant to admit how much she had come to enjoy the incubus’ company.
Siris laughed, “Subtle? Is this not so?” he said bemusedly, “I figured that chaining you bent over a bed was the proper way to seduce someone like you~” Monica struggled, “And just what is that supposed to mean!?” she cried, the chains rattling a bit. Siris leaned down, putting a hand under her chin. He lifted her head up and planted a kiss on her lips. His energy flowed into her mouth, coating it from the kiss, though not too much. She was only human after all. Siris broke the kiss and raised back up. Monica flushed red, and looked away. “Fine, whatever. Just… do what you want, as long as it feels good, I don’t care. It’s not like I have anything else going anyway.”
Siris felt guilty, though he didn’t know that it wasn’t just his energy that was making her say that. Having had her entire livelihood literally go up in smoke before her, the pleasure was a good escape from having to think about her predicament. She kept the protesting facade out of pride, but her desire dripped down her legs despite herself.
This fact did not escape Siris’ notice, however, and he moved behind the bent over girl. He reached out to run his fingers down the long ashen hair of the girl in front of him. He played his fingers across her back, even going so far as to massage the muscles he knew were growing cramped from her chained position. He hadn’t even begun to touch her erogenous zones before she gave out little groans of pleasure, shuddering in her chains. “Agh…just fuck me already…” she said, her back even arcing a little to press her butt cheeks against Siris’ crotch.
The incubus’ member was already throbbing, his skin tight and desiring relief even more so than the horny human. The demonic lust boiling inside of him took every ounce of his self control to not ravish her like a beast. However, Monica pressing her ass against him in such an inviting way broke down the last vestiges of Siris’ resistance and he drew his hips back. Without warning, he plunged his cock forward. He met a bit of resistance from the petite form of the pale human, but so slick was she with her own desire that it was only the briefest of agonizing seconds before Siris felt his length slide into the girl’s hungry sex. She moaned out as he felt her walls contract around him, pushed over the edge of orgasm just by being penetrated by his demonic cock. Her back arched so much that it almost made Siris wince. The demon, however, was far too enthralled in the vice-like contractions that rippled down his cock.
Siris and Monica had had sex before, though only once. She had been a virgin then, and Siris had done his best to ensure that her first time left her hungry for more. Monica’s sex, almost virginally tight, clenched down on Siris so hard that the incubus was afraid he might never come loose. Still, so wet was she that he started to slide back out, and there was only the most delicious friction sliding along his most sensitive spots. Monica cried out again, almost in protest as Siris’ cock slid out from her, leaving an emptiness inside of her that she could not bear. She cried out in joy as she felt his length slide back in to the hilt, reveling in how full her pussy felt. “Why does it feel so gooood, aha!~” Monica panted, her last word turning into yet another moan of pleasure.
Siris chuckled to himself at how much Monica was enjoying herself. He ran his nails down her back again, causing her to arc so hard he feared her back would break. “Guess it’s just been too long.” he said softly with a smile, though he knew the answer. His precum was already leaking into her depths, coating her insides with his demonic signature. Last time, he’d held back. It took hours of meditating before he felt confident that he had suppressed enough of his energy to prevent her from being corrupted. Now, the demon held nothing from her. He let his corruption flow into her core as freely as his precum. He gave a few more long, slow thrusts, letting her get used to his length. She continued to beg for more, but Siris knew that going slow at first only made the end result more enjoyable. He continue to tease her mercily with the agonizingly slow pace. Her mouth hung open as she writhed underneath his attentions, continuing to beg him to fuck her harder, faster.
Siris held off until he could hold back no longer. He started to rock his hips against her ass, then started a steady pace, pistoning his cock in and out of her hungry folds. The wet, squelching sound of their copulation joined Monica’s pleasured cries. Her lewd sounds only served to spur his pace as he mercilessly fucked her. Her folds spasmed of their own accord, attempting to clamp on to his length, but unable to find purchase on his slick cock. He continued to batter her helpless pussy until her tongue lolled out of her mouth. He notices strings of saliva dripping down onto his bedsheets, and still he continued to fuck the pale Monica senseless.
She soon went limp under the sheer onslaught of electric fire flowing through her nerves, her brain overloaded on the demonic pleasures being forced upon her unsuspecting body. “Why…” she said through a gasp, “Why can I taste it? It’s… it’s delicious…” she panted through her moans as unbeknownst to her, her body fully accepted the demonic energies being pumped into it. “Then have more to taste~” Siris whispered into her ear, leaning down to nibble at her earlobes a bit as he continued to thrust his cock deep within her. It was too much for the girl’s mind, she screamed out as the strongest orgasm yet wracked her body with delicious agony. Siris groaned a bit as he felt his own orgasm approaching, he’d lost count of how many he’d forced the poor Monica to endure, but judging from the energy he could sense welling within her, it was more than enough.
Siris continued his pace until he felt his cock twitching, the telltale sign of his own imminent ecstasy before he drove his cock deep within her, and let his cum burst in a torrent, spilling right inside of Monica’s depths. She gave a helpless groan as another orgasm washed over her, dulled from her already fried nerves. Siris, however, was not deterred as his cock pumped and spilled his white corrupted cum deep into her core. He panted, trying to catch his breath as his hands held Monica’s hips steady. He even lifted them a bit, angling her down, allowing his seed to drain deeper into her, slowly leaking into her very womb. Monica continued to lay helpless as the scorching demonic seed trickled through her. It spread a hot tingling sensation to every part of her body, spreading outward from her very womb.
The incubus grinned down as his handiwork as he watched the effects of his efforts. The energy gave a soft glow to her skin, his demonic magic integrating itself to her core. She gave another weak grown as Siris watched a set of small horns sprout from her scalp, peaking out over her ashen hair. His grin turned into a smirk as he saw her breasts fill out heavily, and a tail sprout from the base of her spine. Once the magic had subsided, he finally withdrew himself. Monica had fainted, her brain was not used to processing that level of pleasure, and it had proven too much. Siris unshackled her wrists and ankles, and lay her on the bed. He pulled a blanket over her, and kissed her on the forehead.
Siris straightened himself up, threw on his robes, and decided that he would venture over to the kitchens. He could use a snack. Turning humans into demons was hungry work.
“What the HELL did you do to me!?” Monica stood up on the bed, holding a pillow in her hands. Siris ducked under another blow aimed at his head, still ringing from the first one. “Hey hey hey!” he cried, trying to dodge yet another swing. It was only a pillow, but demons were strong. Especially angry ones. “Just take a moment to process this, would you?”
“I’ve processed it!” she said, leaping at the incubus. She dived at him, her head catching him square in the chest, and sending the both of them toppling over. Still, Siris was a monk, after all, and was no stranger to combat. He reached down and grabbed her around the waist, and rolled with the momentum, coming up on top of her. He quickly let go and grabbed her wrists, which were coming up to pummel him without the aid of the pillow. He pressed them back down to the ground and sat atop the newly demonic Monica, and held her to the floor. “I implore you to do a bit more processing.” he said flatly. She struggled under him, but Siris was imbued with all the strength of a demon hundreds of years old with one of the strongest souls in the world. He would not be overpowered by a new demon, even if he had just gotten done having rigorous sex.
Monica gave up her struggle after a bit, but glared up at the incubus. “I didn’t ask to be turned into a demon!” she cried up at him, “You said that you’d fix everything! I fail to see how turning me into a sex demon is fixing anything!” Siris took a deep breath, “You’re not a sex demon.” he said flatly. She blinked up at him with confusion, then disbelief. “I have horns and a tail, Siris! And I definitely don’t remember my boobs being this big! Trademark succubus!”
“You’re a holstaurus. I turned you into a holstaurus.” Siris answered. Monica ceased all her struggling and yelling, looking up with a perplexed look. “Huh?” she asked. Siris continued, “A holstaurus. I mean, technically it’s a kind of succubus, but you’re less sex-hungry.” he explained. Monica kept looking at him incredulously, and Siris continued again. “You’re a cow demon.”
“You turned me into a cow!?” she exclaimed. “Cow demon.” Siris nodded. “Now you can have your shop again.”
Monica went silent for a moment. “W-What?” she finally said.
Siris calmly let up, getting off of Monica and helping her to her feet. “You can make your own milk now without having to buy cows. It’s a demonic product, but even humans can drink it safely without ill effects, and it’s a commodity in the more demon-friendly realms. I can show you more ideal places to set up shop where you’d be welcome and make more money than you’d ever had.”
Monica couldn’t believe her ears. She reached up to touch her horns, and then her tail. She noticed something that she hadn’t noticed upon first awakening, that her tail wasn’t spade-tipped like a succubus’. It was tipped with a tuft of hair, like a cows. She really was a holstaurus. “This… what… why?” was all she could manage to say. Siris smiled.
“Because I like you, Monica. I know you were proud, and I knew you wanted to do things by yourself. Make your own way. No one counts on The Order fucking everything up, but I suppose now you can make your own way somewhere else. Yeah, I turned you into a demon, but I figured it would be better to do this than you… well, throwing yourself at the mercy of the Bank, you know? I’ve never heard a tale that ended well like that…”
Monica mulled this over in her thoughts. A new start, a fresh slate. Sure, she was demonic, but she didn’t really feel all that different. “Well…” she said at length, “I suppose I didn’t really want to go before the bank anyway… But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with you doing this without my permission!” she said after a thought. “You can’t just chain me up and bend me over whenever you feel like it, and you can’t just go around corrupting people!”
Siris laughed, “No, my dear. You were a special case.”
Monica paused for a second. She felt suddenly embarrassed, then felt angry at herself for feeling embarrassed, then just shook her head. “Whatever.” she said, “I’m hungry. Where can I get something to eat around here?” Siris laughed, “Right this way, my dear,” and the incubus led the newly turned holstaurus off to the kitchens. She had worked up quite an appetite, after all.