The Longest Road, Part 3


As you see the fear in Greta's eyes, you realize that—in your ravenous hunger—you've been moving far too fast. You force yourself to slow down, resting your hands on the girl's shoulders while running one thumb slightly up and down the side of her neck. Even limited to just that, you can sense her arousal responding slightly to your touch.

"Don't be afraid," you say quietly. "I'm not going to hurt you. All I'm going to do is teach you pleasure like you've never known."

With that, you pull her into a kiss, causing her eyes to widen. At first she's stiff and shivering, but as she experiences the delights of an incubus' lips against hers she starts to relax into your arms, just a little. You reward that by deepening the kiss, pulling her in even closer as your tongue entwines with hers. You can feel the girl's heart beating rapidly between her breasts as you clutch her tight against your own chest.

Eventually, she starts to return the kiss, albeit hesitantly and inexperienced. Even so, it's the action itself that's significant. You let her continue for a while, then you pull back a little, giving her a knowing smile. She blushes, looking down, unable to deny her own response. "I..." she whispers, trying to make sense out of what she's feeling. "I... You're..."

You slip your hand under her chin, tilt her head up to face you again, and silence her with another kiss. This time she responds immediately, wrapping her arms around you, and for the next few minutes you show her how much can be done with just that simple contact. When your hands start to explore her body again, this time she only moans eagerly.

She's giving off enough pleasure just from this that it's already starting to take some of the edge off your hunger. Still, eventually you decide that she's ready for the next step. Your hands shift smoothly from groping her body to undoing the bindings of her simple dress, and before she realizes it you're pulling it down to pool around her feet, quickly followed by her undergarments. She lets out a fearful little cry, breaking away and taking a few steps back.

You let her go, taking the opportunity to drink in her naked body with your eyes. She tries awkwardly to cover herself, one arm across her breasts, her other hand between her legs. You say nothing, just stand there, enjoying the show. Second after second goes by as she squirms, embarrassment warring with her growing need. She steals glances up at you, before blushing and looking down again, cowed by the sheer lust with which you're looking at her.

Still, she knows in her heart of hearts that this is only prolonging the inevitable. She could run... but you both know she isn't going to. Eventually she takes a step back toward you, then another, slowly inching toward her fate. Once she's nearly brushing up to you again you pull her arms to her sides, giving you an unobstructed view of her teenage body, caught right in that interplay between her growing and obvious womanly charms, while still hanging onto just a bit of her youthful innocence.

This time, when you grope her breasts it's direct skin against skin. Greta lets out a despairing moan, the sheer pleasure of that touch sweeping away any remaining reluctance. This time she initiates the kiss herself, which you respond to by sliding one hand down her side to start fingering her pussy as you pull her into your embrace.

She melts against you, shuddering and crying out with every thrust of your fingers into her tight channel. She's soaking wet at this point, overwhelmed by the sensations you're giving her. She writhes against you, held tight in one arm while your other hand works at her relentlessly. You control the pace, keeping her right on the edge as minute after minute goes by, her cries becoming more and more plaintive. Finally you take pity on her, and with a particularly deep stab of your fingers she comes, her body spasming in your arms, then slumping against you.

You, however, are not done. While Greta slowly recovers you remove your own pants, allowing your erect cock to rub against her slit. The sensation brings her back to alertness, and she lifts her head from your chest to look at you. Her eyes are wide; she knows what is about to happen to her.

First you lower yourself until both of you are sitting on the dirty, unpaved ground of the back alley. Then you push her onto her back, pinning the girl to the ground beneath your larger body. You start slow, rubbing your cock back and forth along her drenched pussy, causing her to whimper and squirm with anticipation at your teasing.

Eventually you do start to enter her... until you reach the obstruction of her maidenhead. You pause there, looking down at her, wanting her to fully appreciate the moment. Her chest is heaving, her breath coming in pants, and she looks back up at you with a yearning, yielding gaze. You smile... and then thrust through her barrier and deep into her.

You clamp your hand over her mouth, just in time to muffle the scream of intertwined pain and pleasure. At the same time her pussy clamps down on your cock. This girl is tight, exquisitely so. You don't move at first, simply holding her as you give her time to adjust. Once she does, though, you slowly pull yourself back before thrusting in again. She screams a second time into your muffling hand, but this time it is a scream of pleasure alone.

You continue to thrust into her as she lies there—starting out slow, but gradually increasing your speed as you see that she can handle it. Eventually you're pounding furiously into her, even as she clutches tight to you, as though she's terrified you might stop.

It's funny how much a life can change in just a few minutes. When Greta went out to market this morning, you doubt the girl could have possibly imagined that she would end up lying naked on the ground in an alley, pinned beneath a demon as he fucks her. And you doubt even more that she could have imagined that she would enjoy the experience so very much.

Given that it's her first time, you put forth an extra effort to make it as good as you can for her... and given your supernatural abilities, you can make it very good indeed. You can sense the pleasure pouring off of her, a level of pleasure that she's feeling for the first time in her young life.

Then her ecstasy spikes as she orgasms for a second time. You let yourself release into her as well, turning her body into an eager receptacle for your cum. She thrashes, sobbing into your hand, tears of bliss running down her face as her body shudders against you.

After several minutes, her pleasure-wracked spasms finally die down. You pull out, but continue to hold her, stroking her gently as she recovers from the overload of sensation. Honestly, you could still go on for much longer... but at this point you're reasonably sated, and you suspect that any more would be a little too much for the young ex-virgin.

She does eventually shake off her daze, though even then she's still tired from her exertions. Even then, though, she doesn't immediately pull away from your grasp, but rather settles her naked body a little deeper into your arms. She can't quite meet your eyes, but she does speak in a soft voice. "You're... not really a tiefling, are you?"

"No," you admit.

She lets out a shaky breath, her suspicions confirmed. "So... what happens to me now? Do you... eat my soul or something?"

You snort at the very thought of it. "Hardly. What happens is you go back to your life... hopefully with a pleasant memory. Can I trust you to keep quiet about me?"

Greta nods rapidly in eager agreement. "Good," you say. "Then let's get you cleaned up. Wouldn't want anyone to get worried, come looking for you and find us like this."

"Right." The girl flushes a little at the mental image. "That... would be bad."

You stay long enough to help get her presentable again, and ensure that she makes it back out to the main thoroughfare. Before she leaves, Greta glances back at you. "If... if you ever want to see me again..." she says, hesitantly. "I travel with the Rothach Caravan. It's led by my father, Arne Rothach."

You pause to consider that. With everything that's stacked against you and your mistress, you don't really have time for diversions. Then again, an ally in one of the caravans could be useful, depending on how you choose to play this. "I can't make any promises," you say. "But... thank you for the offer."

She nods, then turns and vanishes into the crowd. You take a deep breath, savoring the abatement of your hunger. Then, with that necessity taken care of, you turn to your next task. Before anything else, you need to locate Khaytala before she leaves the city again.

You meander through the crowds, occasionally talking to people as you go. It isn't difficult to find a merchant who knows where the best caravan guards usually congregate while between jobs, and it's even easier for you to get him talking. In the end, you soon find yourself standing in front of a tavern whose sign proudly proclaims it as "The Drowned Dog."

It's obvious from the moment you walk through the door that this is a rough place. Most of the other patrons are very obviously armed, and you'd be willing to bet good coin that the few exceptions are also armed, just not as obviously. Such an array of fighters would normally be of some interest... but in the presence of your true prey, they fade into the background entirely.

Khaytala sits at the bar, her back toward you, staring into a tankard she holds in her hands. She's tall, nearly a full head taller than you are, and even at rest her curvy, muscular body exudes a deadly, leonine grace. She wears old, weathered, oft-repaired leather armor, and there is a simple shortsword sheathed at her hip. Her shaggy black hair runs down between her shoulder blades in a rough ponytail, and what you can see of her dusky green skin indicates that she bears the scars of countless combats.

She sits alone at the bar, everyone else in the tavern keeping their distance. For a few it seems to be a respectful distance, for many more it seems to be a resentful distance, and for even more it seems to be a fearful distance. But in all cases, it is a distance.

Now that you've located her, you'll need to decide how you want to handle this. A heroine like her definitely won't be as easy to win over as an ordinary woman, even for you. You expect that you'll have to spend a fair bit of time around her to accomplish it. Which, given her lifestyle, will likely mean finding some way to accompany her on her next trip. You can think of a few ways to arrange that, but which one you use will depend on how you want to make your approach.

The simplest way might be to be largely honest... at least as far as your desire for her goes. The heroines don't yet know they're being targeted in this way, after all, and simply showing your interest could be enough justification to strike something up. Just like any ordinary two mortals might.

On the other hand, you could also start out professional and businesslike, and gradually work the temptation in from there. You could paint yourself as simply wanting to join up with whichever caravan has her famous protection. Or alternatively, you have more than enough money from the Witch Queen to simply hire her yourself, as your personal protector. That would be more out of the ordinary, perhaps putting her more on guard... but it would also give you more influence over her actions.

Finally, you don't necessarily need to approach right away. You could simply order a meal first, and subtly observe her while you eat. You might be able to learn more about her that might guide your future interactions. Of course, if you do hang back there's the chance that other events might develop while you're doing so, either expanding or limiting your options.