A Demon Master Erotic Tale
Slave
A Dark Fantasy Erotic Short Story
from the Demons of Areth Series
By
Leigha Stoirm
Slave–A Demon Master Erotic Tale
Copyright © 2019 by Leigha Stoirm
All rights reserved. This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form, in part or in its entirety, without the express written permission of the author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. Any unauthorized reproduction or use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited and will be subject to prosecution.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons (living or dead), business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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*Trigger Warning* - Some people may find the scenarios or material in this book to be distressing or triggering. This is a Dark Fantasy Erotic Romance and contains adult content not suitable for readers under the age of 18.
Slave
Iboth feared and yearned for my master’s arrival the next night. He’d been angry when he left the night before, seemed distraught when I’d seen him in the courtyard, then slipped into his dragon form and exploded away from the castle with an earth-shattering roar. Whatever had transpired between us had agitated him, shaken him, but it had emboldened me.
My demon had gone invisible, but I’d felt him as certainly as any flesh and blood man standing before me. It had been years since I’d seen or felt him in any form beyond his Shadow self, and experiencing him like that, with a physical touch, had been exhilarating. I was excited for his arrival and for what it might bring.
Until dusk came and went. Then twilight. The night grew darker outside my window, the air colder, and still he didn’t come. I didn’t know what to think, or what to do. In three years, he’d never failed to come to me at dusk. Never. What if something had happened last night? I hadn’t seen him in the sky today. What if he was gone? What if I was alone?
My fledgling panic attack was subverted by the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs, moving fast. He never made a sound on the stairs, not in his Shadow form, but I didn’t have much time to worry about it as the door burst inward and there he was. My master.
He was in the demon form I hadn’t seen since my first night. Shimmering crimson scales, massive wings, frills and horns barely containing the rippling muscled beneath his skin. His massive size left me staring almost straight up at him as he approached me. My breath hitched in my throat, a chill tore up my spine, and all my earlier bravado was dashed to pieces. I was terrified, but still…
I stared into his eyes, waiting, watching the hesitation and uncertainty play across his features. Then his hand lifted to my face, brushing the hair back, and I swallowed. Weaving his clawed fingers into my hair, he braced his hand behind my neck and tilted my face up to him, his eyes darting back and forth between mine, waiting. For permission or fear or rejection, I wasn’t sure, but it wouldn’t come. I had accepted this, my feelings, him. I had accepted him as my master, and I truly was a slave. A slave to his passion, a slave to his needs, a slave to my own emotions. I wanted to be his, wanted him to claim me, take me, own me.
My lips parted as my gaze flickered to his mouth and back, and that was all the final reassurance he needed. His mouth descended on mine, claiming my lips as his own in a fiery kiss. His other hand found its way to my cheek as my hands tentatively reached for his wrists. I never touched him, usually I couldn’t, and as my fingers landed lightly on his wrists, he shivered and tensed, like he was containing something powerful. I slid my hands down to his elbows then up to his shoulders, rounding past them to his muscular back and sliding them down toward his waist. As they arrived, he groaned against my mouth… and released the beast inside.
In a flurry of movement, I was lifted, my feet leaving the ground and then found myself laid on the bed and my master covering me with his body. I spread my legs instinctively, making room for him as his hips pressed into mine, the evidence of his desire for me hot and hard between my legs. Yes! This is what I’ve dreamed of, what I’ve craved. I slipped my hands down further below his waist, gripping his firm, round buttocks and pulling him against me as he slid his lips down to my throat, brushing them lightly across the delicate skin.
I heard and felt his fangs release against my neck and tilted my head to grant him access and I felt the head of his shaft press against my opening. He groaned and shoved my legs wider, sinking his fangs into the large vein on the side of my neck. His venom hit me like… well, like a dragon. Thrust into a chain reaction of climax after climax, I could feel him still pressing against me, so close to filling me yet holding back. I cried out.
“Oh, gods, Master, please! Fill me! Claim me! Make me yours!” My nails dug into his crimson scales as I pulled his hips into me again. I felt the very tip of his cock part my folds and begin to slide inside me, and a coarse groan escaped his throat.
Coarse but brief. The second his tip slipped inside, the demon froze. A gasp escaped him, and suddenly he was gone. Standing across the room, by the door he stared at me, eyes wide, brows creased, and a disgusted grimace playing across his lips. He reached up to his mouth and wiped the still fresh blood from his lips then stared at his hand in what I can only describe as horror.
I sat up slowly, as one would approach a spooked animal. “Master?”
He looked up at me and stared longingly for a moment, then his face went slack. His deadpan expression lasted moments, at most. He closed his mouth, his lips formed a thin, tight line, and he lifted his chin. The only sign he felt anything was the slight drop of his eyes and the visible bobbing of his Adam’s Apple as he turned and walked away, neither speaking nor bothering to close the door behind him.
“Master?” Confusion clouded my lust-filled mind. We’d been locked in a savage embrace only seconds ago, and he’d seemed to have abandoned whatever had held his passion at bay all these years. Then he was gone, disappearing like the unfeeling monster I’d always believed him to be. “Master, please, don’t. Please, don’t leave!” I called after him as he crossed the landing to the stairs, but to no avail. He didn’t respond, didn’t slow down, didn’t look back. Tears filled my eyes, and when the sound of his footsteps had faded and I could no longer hear them, my tears were still falling.
I waited anxiously the next night, but it came and went, and he never came to me. It was the first time in our all our years together that he didn’t come to my chambers. The next day I could see him out my window, ruling the sky in dragon form. I watched for hours, thinking about the first night he’d brought me to this castle, the feeling of his body above mine, pressing me into the ground, the texture of his tongue, his clawed hand squeezing my neck as he shoved me into the ground.
My hand slipped up my dress, trailing my fingers along my inner thigh, then finding my warm wet folds as I remembered him holding me down, imagined him not holding back. My fingers circled around my clit as I remembered the feel of his cock pressed against my slit, pushing in. I imagined him not stopping himself again, his cock sliding inside me as he rubs my clit, fingers my nipples. Then he was moving back and forth, and I could feel my climax coming. Then I was there, shattering.
I’d never had an orgasm without him before, but in my mind, I still wasn’t without him. In my mind, he was thrusting inside me, and I wanted it to be real so badly, I could almost feel it, feel him. A tiny sting of pain and then immense pleasure. I clutched the windowsill, crying out, and feeling him inside me.
When I calmed and came to, the feeling
was still there, and looking down I realized I’d broken the rules. I slipped my fingers out, seeing a tiny bit of blood. What had I done? What would he do if he knew?
There was little time to wonder as a warm burst of air hit me through the window and I looked up from my hand in time to see the dragon inhale deeply. Wide eyes fixed on mine, then narrowed. He knew. His face changed, and for the first time in almost three years, I truly feared him. I backed away from the window as he let loose a monstrous roar, then fell backwards diving toward the ground.
My shaking legs felt like they might give out beneath me, so I made my way to the bed and sat, awaiting my punishment with some combination of fear and lust. I’d broken the rules, and his punishment would be fierce. That didn’t mean it wouldn’t also be enjoyable.
The night passed and he never came. Then the next night passed, and the next. I could see him out my window during the day, ruling the skies and guarding our home, but he never acknowledged me, and at night, he remained absent. The fifth night he didn’t come to my room, I decided I was tired of waiting and crying myself to sleep, so the next morning, I ate the breakfast waiting outside my room, then wandered the castle most of the day, finding no one. My meals had been coming to my room as always, including the meals I found left out for me that day, so someone had been here.
I’d never really wandered the castle much before. I had free rein of the grounds from the first day, but the first few weeks I had wept in my room, never leaving. Around the end of the first month I’d finally ventured out of my room. I found the garden first, then discovered the outer courtyard where I could take walks. Finally, I’d found the library and stopped looking. I lived my life in the pages of those books during the day and enraptured in the night.
Every day was basically the same after that: a walk in the courtyard in the morning, choose a book or two from the library and either read there or in the garden, nap around midday, walk again through the courtyard, then read in the garden until dusk. I was always in my room before dark and never fought his needs or his rules. That was our deal. My meals had always come to my room every day or appeared wherever I was when it was mealtime. Room after room, wing after wing, I searched and found the castle deserted. I’d always assumed my master had a staff, but now I wondered who it was preparing my meals and delivering them all over the castle.
Sore and anxious from wandering the castle all day and finding no one, I made my way back to my chamber. I knew he spent most of the daylight hours as a dragon, yet I lay in bed battling irrational disappointment at not finding him in the castle. I slept fitfully and woke early, but spent the day in my room, too tired to do much else.
When my master didn’t come to me again, I ventured back into the dark castle to find him. I grabbed the candle off my bedside table and my cloak to keep out the cold before beginning my inspection of the castle again, in earnest. Each night he didn’t come to my room, I picked up my search where I’d left off the night before, sleeping during the daylight hours. Each day, breakfast awaited me when I returned to my room. Around midday lunch was sitting on a tray outside my door, as was my evening meal. I continued my search nightly, only returning to my room from hunger and exhaustion.
The castle was immense, but during the fifth night of searching I ran out of rooms to search. Save one. And it was locked. I banged on the door until my fists bled, but no one answered. I don’t know how long I sat there weeping before I heard a sound inside the room. It was the first sound I’d heard other than my own in over a week, and I rejoiced. But even as my heart leapt, cold fear settled in the pit of my stomach.
“Master?” I called with trepidation.
Then I heard the voice I’d craved. “What do you want?”
“Where have you been? Why have you not come for me?”
“Is it not clear?”
“I’m sorry, Master. It is not. You need to feed, and…”
“You broke the rules. You may stay in the castle. I will keep you fed and safe, but I do not want you anymore, Princess. Go away.”
I sat there, stunned into silence for several moments before I found my voice. “The rules? I…”
“You’re broken, Princess. No longer virginal. You are worthless to me, now.”
“But…”
“I said go away.”
That was it. That was all he had to say. No further explanations were forthcoming, and he sounded tired and angry, so I did as he asked. My shoulders slumped beneath the weight of my disappointment, and as I walked the long path back to my room, my disappointment quickly evolved into despair. As I climbed the final flight of stairs, my despair gave way to frustration and anger, and it reached a head when I arrived at my room to find a tray of breakfast on the bedside table. On the tray was a crystal vase with a single red rose.
He made me breakfast. That he could do. He could make lunch and dinner and he could leave them for me silently day in and day out, but he wouldn’t come to my bed anymore. He could take care of me, but he refused to care for me.
I picked up the tray of food and slung it across the room as hard as I could. The wooden tray smashed to bits against the wall and the crystal vase shattered as I screamed my pain and anger to the empty room. The rose slumped down the wall, coming to rest in the remains of the ruined meal. I walked to the wall and picked up the rose, gripping the thorn-ridden stem in my fist. I grabbed the velvety blossom with my other hand and ripped it from the stem as blood trailed down my wrist, then threw them both out the open window and turned to leave.
I had always known he would break me, and he had. I wondered if I truly had the right to be so angry with him when he had only done what I’d known he would do, what it was in his nature to do. He ruined and destroyed. That’s what he was.
I kept expecting him to stop me: when I reached the main entrance of the castle, when I reached and opened the front gates, as I marched across the open field surrounding the castle, even as I reached the forest and turned to take in one last look at my home for the past three years. Today I should have received a bouquet of roses marking the completion of our third year together. Instead, I’d been given a single rose with a bitter meal and unceremoniously dismissed to mark our end.
He wasn’t coming. I was on my own and I had a choice: despair and let my fear and weakness control me, or venture into the unknown with a courageous heart. I took a deep breath to steady myself and exhaled slowly, then turned away from the warm castle and marched into the dense forest surrounding it.
I’d only seen the forest from my window, but it didn’t disappoint. It was lush and green and alive. Despite the infrequency of rain on Areth, the underground springs were rich and full and kept the forest healthy. I made my way carefully through the thick underbrush for several hours. It was very slow going as my dress skirts kept getting caught on low branches and shrubs. I had no idea how long I’d been walking until the surrounding forest began to darken quickly. Dusk had arrived, so I searched for a tree I could climb to rest in overnight.
I heard a rustling in the brush to my right and froze. I turned my head slowly and saw a massive stag frozen in the middle of the forest. He was magnificent, majestic. I’d never seen a living animal save the horses and dogs that were a part of the royal guard. The sight of a stag this size so near was magical. Entranced, I watched for several seconds before I realized what his stillness must mean. It’s possible I had been what had spooked him, but he wasn’t looking in my direction. There was something else in these woods, something unfriendly.
My breath became shallow and quick as I dropped into a low crouch and ducked behind some bushes, scanning the forest. I sat utterly still, looking for any sign of movement around me. I listened for snapping twigs or the brush of grass, but the forest was silent. Until it wasn’t.
A sudden explosion of noise and activity burst through the forest. The stag bolted from his spot in a blur of hooves and fur, but he didn’t get far before he stumbled and his antlers drooped to the ground, an arrow visible in
his side. In seconds the pack of men was on him.
I stayed hidden beneath the shrub and watched curiously. I cringed as one man slit the stag’s throat and watched it bleed out. The hunting party seemed to be made of three men, who set to work field dressing the deer. They kept looking around like they were waiting for something or someone as they worked.
I felt the cold steel against my throat before I caught the odor of the man holding the blade. He stunk of sweat and ale and blood.
“Hey, hey, men. Look what we have here,” he called.
The other men all stood and walked our way like they had been waiting for this. They’d known I was here somewhere all along and been waiting for him to find me. I cursed my hubris for storming away from the safety of my master’s castle without planning first. I’d been so desperate and hurt, I’d acted irrationally and signed my own death warrant.
The man behind me spurred me forward, careful to keep the blade to my throat as his friends came closer.
“What have you got there, Crem?” one of the other huntsmen asked.
“Found a ripe little berry hiding in that bush. Wondering if we should pack her into a pie for dessert.” I trembled visibly in his grip as they all laughed, and he leaned into my ear to whisper, “Don’t worry, it’ll be virtually painless... Princess.”
Slave Page 1
