1. Asmodeus - Demon of Lust: Part 8


    Date: 1/19/2015, Categories: Dark Fantasy, Body modification, Horror, Male/Female, Monster, Pregnant, Romance, Written by women, Author: steelkat29, Rating: 92.3, Source: sexstories.com

    be an incubus? Or a succubus if we have a girl?” I ask, breath catching as I pull my hands back. I draw them close to me, suddenly wishing that I hadn’t asked. “Yes my love, this will be his purpose.” “Purpose? You speak about him as if he’s an appliance not a child. Who are you to decide his purpose ?” “I am his progenitor and his King. He will do as I command.” His words aren’t hard or cold, they simply are; as if there is no questioning their authority and that makes them all the worse. I sit up, anger rising with me and I face his gaze unflinchingly. “You will not make a womaniser of my son, or a whore of my daughter.” He laughs, sitting up and reaching for me. He rests his hands on my hips and draws closer to me. “My warrior Queen, I do not wish to battle with you today. I yield love, spare your King his miserable hide.” His voice is teasing and playful, his false eyes twinkling. “Don’t play with me Asmodeus, I’m serious. I don’t care about your desire for a link to the human world. People are lustful enough as it is, they don’t need my children to seduce them. They’ve done well enough without incubi and succubi all this time; they don’t need any help now.” His gaze is unwavering and I catch a hard truth in his eyes. Of course, how could I have been so stupid, so naive ? To think that after three million years, the baby growing within me is only his second son. “How many?” I ask, tight-lipped. My gaze has fallen; I find that I can barely stand to look at him now. “Does ...
    it matter?” “Yes.” “Are you certain you wish to know?” He pinches my chin gently and lifts my face up to his. “Yes,” I say, then, “No. But you’re going to tell me anyway.” “I have fathered fifteen thousand sons and thirteen thousand daughters, none living who are trueborn heirs to my throne.” My heart thunders so painfully that the unrelenting beat sickens me. This roiling and churning in my gut has the back of my throat constricting. It takes everything I have to keep the nausea contained so that it cannot morph the foul smelling beast it craves to be. The baby kicks me in protest, no doubt disturbed in his slumber by the pounding in my chest. So he isn’t as unique as I thought. Not the only one of his kind, but one of twenty-eight thousand; just another soldier in Asmodeus’ army of offspring. “ Fuck , Asmodeus!” I shout and jump off the bed. “What the fuck?!” I half-run to the bathroom and slam the door behind me. He doesn’t try to stop me or open the door or even speak through it; he just leaves me to digest what I’ve learnt. Oh well , I think, I wanted to know. I sink to the floor with my back against the door, pulling my knees up as far as my baby allows. The tears flow freely when my anger fades. The tiles are cold under my bum and the door hard against my back. Cold and hard, like this life, no matter where I am. As if to belie this observation, my baby’s growing pains kick into gear while I lean against the door. I moan quietly, cursing whatever deity is responsible ...
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