Asmodeus - Demon of Lust: Pt. 06

Grimacing at the metallic taste, I run my tongue over her knuckles and watch with utter satisfaction as her wounds close. Then she lets me help her up once again and I lead her back to the shower. When I'm satisfied that she won't faint, I leave her to it and hurry over to my chest of dresses once more. Summoning my air vent, I dry off, get dressed and head back to the shower, another dress in hand. Ida doesn't notice my return.

She has her eyes closed and her face turned up into the warm stream, an expression of pure delight making her look impossibly more beautiful. I marvel at her long, graceful legs and taut belly which contrasts wonderfully against a shapely ass and firm breasts. Although straight as an arrow, I am an admirer of beauty and the female form has always fascinated me.

She catches me staring and I avert my gaze with an embarrassed cough. Head turned away I offer her the dress I'm holding when I hear the sound of wet footsteps grow closer.

"I cannot accept such fine a gift, my lady," her voice is raw but firm.

I turn back toward her just as she steps under the air vent in all her feral beauty.

"And why not?" I ask, although I believe I already know the answer.

She folds a forearm across the plains of her breasts and uses her other arm to point toward her crude bindings.

"Those are mine. They are a mark of my servitude to the King," she explains before her turning her gaze toward the dress in my hand, "To wear such finery would be... heresy."

"You are my servant now, are you not?" I ask forcefully, before softening my voice and adding, "You are my friend, are you not?"

Gobsmacked, she does not reply.

"Think of it however you wish," I say, "As a uniform or a gift but either way, I'm burning those bindings of yours."

I say this with a smile and hand her the dress. Reluctantly, she takes it.

"What of the King, my lady?"

"You let me handle Asmodeus; he can rage at me all he wants but I won't have you dressed or treated like a slave. And please, Ida, call me Selena."

Shock once again prevents her from replying so I use the opportunity to grab her old clothes and walk away before she has a chance to wear them again.

"Come on, after you've dressed we'll eat, I'm fucking starving."

After much reluctance on her part, I finally get Ida to sit at the dining cavern and eat with me. She looks lovely in the forest green dress I picked out for her, even though her figure makes any dress of mine look shorter and looser fitting.

After we've finished eating, we enjoy each other's near silent company for what seems like hours. I've learnt by this point that forcing a conversation with Ida isn't the right way to get her talking. For now it seems I'll have to be content with her unspeaking trust, which I know is far more than I deserve. I know better than to expect her to suddenly open up, regardless of our budding friendship.

I hope in time though, that she will trust me enough to tell me her entire story and that one day I can share mine with her.

In the meantime, I'll settle for looking after her and making sure that she is never hurt again. Of course, as soon as I think this, my baby kicks me through my ever-expanding belly and triggers another awful wave of growing pains. Here we go again.

I almost fall off my seat at the unbearable assault and Ida, my nurse and my ward, is at my side in a flash. She half-carries me to Asmodeus' throne room and leads my convulsing body toward the bed. During that short but excruciating trip I think I threw up once or twice. My body is all agony; my brain a scrambled mess. All I register is the blaring screech of my pain, pounding like bass, each thump bursting into fresh lashes of torture. I swear, each time this happens it hurts more and lasts longer than the last.

I'm tired of screaming, sick of crying and I don't think I'll survive another dry heave. Every time my stomach revolts, it feels as if I've been kicked in the gut and punched behind my eyes.

Ida frets over me, unsure of how to help while I choke and moan in my endless misery, wanting nothing more than for this to end. The pain radiates through my entire body, pulsing from my abdomen and raking across every nerve I possess.

"Tell me! Tell me what I must do, my Queen!" she shrieks and I know that this time is worse, for she has seen me experience the pain but never like this it seems.

Ironically, her panic calms me. I'm never more useful than when I am needed by someone else.

"Shhh..." My whisper turns into groan as a fresh wave of nausea rolls over me. I breathe in deeply, hoping it will elevate the sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach, drowning out Ida's shrill words with my utter concentration.

"Tell me how to help you Selena!"

The urgency in her voice breaks me away from the swirling revulsion I'd been trying to quash, giving me a moment of respite and the answer clicks into place.

"The-" I swallow down the sickness which seems determined to rise, "The gel."

The pain hits me again just as Ida pleads for an explanation. She doesn't know what I'm talking about.

"Pleasure and pain!" I scream, "Fight pain with pleasure!"

And I'm sucked into the bitterness of my pain, a horror which slices and stabs me with ice so cold that I burn.

* * * * *

I'm still burning in the cold when Ida returns. Funny, I hadn't even noticed that she'd left.

She doesn't come back to my side like I expect her to, but disappears from my field of vision. I'm too exhausted to even turn my head and locate her. I am still trying to find the strength to ask her what she is doing when I feel warmth spread through me, rippling like a soothing wave. The first wave is bitter-sweet, frost-bitten skin under hot water. But with each subsequent radiation of heat, my breathing slows its frantic pace and the burning tension in my muscles lifts free.

Pleasure and pain, the opposing forces neutralise each other. Ida figured it out! Thank God.

"Thank you," I croak, to Ida, God or both I'm not sure.

I have some difficulty sitting up, partly because I'm so tired but mostly because the bump that is my baby has grown again. I wonder dryly, why the sight of it still has me surprised after all this time, until I remember that I've only been here five days. It feels like I've lived an entire lifetime.

I've been through so much already; soul-stealing fear, breath-taking lust, life-altering trauma and crippling pain. I would feel sorry for myself if I didn't begrudgingly realise that not all my experiences here have been terrible. Just this morning, my heart was flying free and I've discovered a love for the child growing in my womb the likes of which I could never have dreamed, a love which mere words cannot even begin to describe. I would go through every second of the pain again if only to hold him once.

And how could forget Ida, my new friend, who is somehow more damaged than I am and yet is holding me right now, brushing sweat-matted hair away from my face and bringing a cool cup of water to my lips.

She is my saviour and I am hers.

I grip her hand tightly with mine, in silent gratitude while the water flows like the sweetest nectar down my raw throat.

Ida leaves me for a moment but returns shortly after with some dry bread and another drink. When she offers me the food and mango juice though, I refuse, the lingering bitterness of bile still coating my mouth.

"You really should eat something," she admonishes quietly.

"I know," I sigh, "But I need to clean out my mouth first."

When she looks as if she's about to protest, I interrupt her tiredly.

"Look, we can argue about this until the pain ends and I lose my mind to the pleasure or you can just draw me a bath and bring me a toothbrush like last time. Whether I eat now or later is entirely up to you."

Without another word she summons a waterfall with Asmodeus' borrowed power and refills the claw-footed tub from yesterday. I sink blissfully into the tub and giggle when I notice the tip of my belly button poking out of the warm water. I rub the soft skin over the firm bump and a rush of uncompromising love floods through me as I enjoy this moment of peace.

Ida's hand, offering me a toothbrush, reminds me that I don't have time to dawdle. It takes three brushings before my tongue finally feels clean and after bathing quickly, I slip out of the tub and into the fresh sheet swaddled arms of Ida. I no longer feel embarrassed to be naked around her, having realised that she would have had to hitch up my dress and apply the gel to my sex in order to free me from my pain.

Leaving my sweat-soaked dress on the floor by the tub, I plonk myself onto the bed and nibble on the bread Ida brought me, waiting now for my break from both pleasure and pain to end. The mango juice is a refreshing change to my taste-buds and its sweetness grants me a shot of unadulterated energy. I pat the space next to me on the bed and Ida is finally comfortable enough to sit by me as we wait.

Before long, I am shivering, the immortal flame of delight coursing through me, burning away every last trace of the ice in my veins. My heart beats painfully fast and an intense pressure builds in my chest, solid marble blocks stacked one on top of the other, the weight of them so great that I can barely breathe. I close my eyes and moan into the musty air, my head a dead weight on my shoulders. Vertigo stuns me as I feel my head bounce on the mattress; I had no idea I was falling.

My core is on fire! Delicious flames lick torturously at my soul but do not release it. Warm fire keeps it from experiencing the glorious freedom of a miniature death, that one moment when everything else falls away and the soul briefly escapes the body. Those precious seconds which last for a lifetime yet end far too quickly; I need them now!

My hand moves of its own accord, slapping against the moist skin of my slit. I grope around frantically, looking for the pearl hidden behind a fleshy, slippery sheath. When I find it, I rub against it desperately, hoping to relieve myself of this terrible need before my head explodes.

I groan my frustrated impatience, fumbling with shaky fingers to hit the right spot. When I think I've found it, I squeeze it almost painfully and rub it with reckless abandon. Each stroke of my fingers sends a jolt of sharp energy through my being, the feeling registering as pain in my delirious mind. But no matter how hard I press and rub, my torturous pleasuring does not end. I'm still stuck between a rock and a hard place, trying frantically to free myself from this feeling that is simply too much to handle.

Why isn't this working?!! The thought blares through my mind anxiously, and I can't for the life of me figure out why the gel is still driving me crazy. All it took was a single touch from Asmodeus and I had experienced the most intense orgasm of my life. Now, when I try to free myself, all I'm doing is clawing at the delicate skin of my sex with desperate fingers, hoping for some reprieve.

"Ida!" I moan, "Help me!"

Without hesitation, she sends her tail darting toward my contracting clit. As soon as it brushes against me I'm thrown over the edge, my middle lifted off the bed as if by a puppet master. I stay like this during the endless seconds of my monster climax. My muscles scream at me while I scream at the cave walls, cracking them with my power. Wave after wave of pure ecstasy hits me and suddenly I feel like Ida's punching bag. But its more than just pain, it's the pure glowing exhaustion which can only be felt after experiencing something exquisite but taxing at the same time.

Like being hit by real waves as a child, refreshing, crashing rolls of water, carrying sand with it and attempting to pull me into the depths it came from. Waves which leave my skin raw and my body spent, but which also leave me with a satisfying radiance which can only be achieved by enjoying a moment that was truly worth living. And the release of my frozen muscles as I slump back onto the bed brings with it a dog-tired satisfaction which darkens my vision.

I smile as I close my eyes, drifting for what seems like another lifetime, awoken seconds later by my saviour. Her face is so close to mine that I feel her breath warming my cheek. I'm euphoric, having accepted my place in this strange new life, anticipating the arrival of a baby I already love and finding friendship through an unlikely source.

Without thinking, I lift myself into sitting position, catching Ida by surprise. I cup her face in my hands and kiss her full on the lips. It is rash and impulsive, my weird way of showing gratitude for the support she has given me. Her lips part against mine, accepting my offering and responding to my movements. I groan in appreciation as her hands slide behind the nape of my neck. Before I even realise what I'm doing, my tongue darts out and traces curve of her upper lip.

She breaks away from me, her eyes round as plates and her expression like that of a startled doe. She looks at me with utter horror and I feel a rush of embarrassment colour my face and burn my ears.

What the fuck was that?

"Ida-" I begin, but do not finish as I watch her edge further away with every second that passes.

And then she's gone, flitting away from my touch, racing toward the exit, hand on her lips.

What the fuck have I just done?