A Demon's Child Ch. 05

Until Saban eased off again, letting the heat drain away. "What are you doing?" I gasped. "I was so close!"

I could feel Saban's smile against my pussy. "As I said, I want to take my time."

The way Saban held me, I wasn't able to do anything myself. I could only wait for his slow ministrations. "Fuck you," I moaned.

Saban laughed. "Isn't that what we're doing?"

Saban let my orgasm build again with infuriating slowness, and then pulled back so that it died away. This time when I protested a tentacle slid into my mouth, cutting me off. I would have glared at him, but my eyes were still covered.

Four more times Saban took me to the brink of orgasm before reversing my slow climb. The seventh time he brought me close to cumming, he didn't stop.

I'd heard that bringing someone to the brink several times before finally letting them cum could increase the strength of their orgasm. I'd never had the patience to try it myself, but that was what I'd heard. Apparently it was right.

I arched up from the bed, screaming, as my muscles tightened and my mind blanked. I collapsed, gasping, only to cum again an instant later. As usual, Saban was not content with just one. Or two. Or even three.

When Saban finally lifted his mouth from my pussy, I felt limp and weary. I sat up as he released me and yawned. "Wow. That was exhausting." I moved to rise.

Saban caught my wrist. "If you're so tired, shouldn't you just go to bed?"

"Don't be silly, it's only-" I looked over at the clock. It was 10 at night. "Damn it, Saban!"

My familiar laughed, unrepentant.

"It's not funny," I complained. "What if I'd had something else I wanted to do today?"

"Then," Saban said, pulling me back down onto the bed, "It would have to wait for tomorrow."

I yawned again, and nestled against Saban's warm chest. "Then I guess this is goodnight."

With a flick of my wrist, I turned off the light stones. Darkness fell in the room. Somehow, though, I wasn't quite ready to sleep. "Saban?"

Saban stroked my hair. "Yes, love?"

"I was thinking..." I shifted to lay my head on Saban's chest. "Demons are immortal. And you don't care for your young."

"Yes," Saban agreed. "Very true."

"You don't need heirs, and you don't really want to start families, so... " I nestled closer against Saban's side. "Why do baby demons get born? Typically?"

I felt Saban shrug. "Well, demons don't exactly have birth control, and sex is fun, so most demons are born by accident."

"Was that how you were born? An accident?" I asked.

Saban shifted uneasily. "No. Demon lords are usually very careful to avoid unwanted progeny. After all, any child that grows up is likely to be a rival."

"Then how?" I wondered.

Saban was silent.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," I said.

Saban sighed. "No, I'll tell you. Just give me a minute."

After another long silence, Saban began. "You already know demon lords can control other demons when they are nearby."

I nodded. "Yes."

"Have you ever wondered how that works when you're trying to build an empire?" Saban asked. "Or in battle, when two demon lords are fighting against one another. You can't always keep your subjects nearby, and if they're also vulnerable to control by another demon lord, well, that wouldn't work too well."

I frowned. "I never thought about it like that. How do you keep control of your... subjects, then?"

"I mark them," Saban said. "The marking process takes time and effort, but, when it's done, I can call my marked demons to me from anywhere in the same plane, and, most of the time, other demon lords can't control them. There are other effects, as well."

"And all demon lords can do that?" I asked.

"Yes." Saban paused for long enough I wondered if he would continue. "But we can only mark so many demons at once. For most demon lords, that's something around one hundred or two hundred. It limits how much we can expand."

One day in the near future, I was going to publish one hell of a study on demonology. "This is very, very interesting, but I don't see how it has anything to do with why you were born."

"I'm getting to that," Saban said. "So, demon lords can only mark a limited number of demons. Most demon lords want to expand that limit, especially the ambitious ones. My... My father was extremely ambitious, and he found a way to do it."

"Some sort of spell?" I guessed, wondering where this was going.

"No," Saban said. He hesitated before continuing. "Most of the time, demon lords can't mark other demon lords. We have defenses other demons lack. However, if one demon lord is very strong and another is very weak, the weaker one can be marked. My father... He marked me. And my siblings. He had around fifty of us serving him. When... When one of us was close to being old and powerful enough to challenge him, he'd kill them, and have another child. He had quite the empire built up when I was born."

I shook my head. "That's horrible!"

Saban shrugged. "The demon realm is not a nice place, Anita. There's a good reason lots of human religions say it's where sinners go when they die."

"That's not just superstition," I said. "Ancient cultures use to punish criminals by sending them to the demon realm. In some place, that still happens. Cendan, for example. They throw serious criminals through the portal to the demon realm in their capital city."

Saban chuckled darkly. "Quite the punishment. No, the demon realm is not a nice place. Lots of newborn demons don't make it past their first year. At least my father's children were guaranteed to live for awhile."

"Still horrible," I said. "How did you survive?"

"Well," said Saban. "I was getting pretty close to my final year when my father was distracted by a fight with another demon lord, far away from where I was stationed. I decided to take a gamble. I cannibalized the demons underneath me, consuming them to build my own power. Then, I broke my father's mark. That got his attention. We fought. And I killed him."

*

Saban

I hadn't thought about my father in a long, long time. And with the memories of my father came memories of my mother.

She hadn't been very strong. She'd been a wild demon, without a lord, until, one day, she'd strayed too close to my father's lands and was captured. My father had taken her to bear his latest child. Me.

She hadn't been allowed to find a host for me, so she ended up carrying me herself. She'd known it would be the death of her. She was so frightened. When I became aware, the first thing I'd known was her fear. I'd reached out to her. She'd been startled, at first, to hear from the child she carried. I'd told her I could save her. She didn't have to die.

She'd been quiet for a while, long enough that I started to get worried. Then she'd reached back out to me. She told me no. Even if she survived, she would not be free. My father might kill her regardless. She wanted me to take her strength. Take it, and, someday, use it to kill my father. And, in the end, I had done as she wished.

I hoped Anita wouldn't ask about her. It wasn't a story I wanted to tell.

"I'm sorry I asked," Anita said, finally, of my story about my father. "It's probably not a pleasant memory for you."

"It's not unpleasant," I told her. "After all, I won in the end."

"Yeah. By killing your father," Anita replied.

I shrugged. "Demons don't play happy families. I had no love for the demon that sired me. Actually, I hated him."

Anita yawned. "Is that why you didn't like Estries at first? Because you thought that someday he might kill you?"

"I never disliked him," I said. "I just didn't know him. I was suspicious."

"But you're not anymore?" Anita asked. She snuggled closer to me. "I don't want you to kill him."

"Don't worry," I told her as she drifted off to sleep. "Estries is safe from me."