Heirs of Saint Valyssa

Trajan stared almost open-mouthed at the scantily-clad servant who had appeared in the entry to his quarters. She was on the shorter side, with a firm roundness to her features. Her hair was a rich copper color, and her skin was scarlet-brown. She had a shimmering, translucent dress on that did absolutely nothing to protect her body from Trajan's hungry gaze. Like every other infernal servant he had met over the last three days, she was exquisitely beautiful and spoke in a low, sultry tone.

"My Lord and Lady have sent me to escort you to the dining hall. They are quite eager for your presence... Unless, you need some assistance?"

Trajan thought that by now, he would have become accustomed to the entendres, the thinly-veiled attempts at seduction, and the overt inquiries into his... Preferences. This servant was Astaroth's best attempt yet. Her breasts were larger than the servant that had attended them the night before. From her red lips to her scarlet-brown thighs, this woman's entire body exuded a soft-yet-firm thickness. The question she left hanging in the air between them was an implication; Lord Astaroth would not take offense if something, or someone, were to cause Trajan's tardiness at dinner.

Trajan cleared his throat, dragging his thoughts away from the temptation that stood before him. She was a servant; it would be beneath him to damage his honor with such a woman. Trajan retreated from such thoughts, and hid behind the veil of courtesy and decorum he'd been taught as a child,

"We are ready to meet your Lord. May I know your name, miss...?"

The servant batted her eyes flirtatiously, and offered her hand, "We don't have family names here, but my father named me Gloria."

Trajan took the woman's hand and gave it a chaste kiss. As his lips touched her right hand, she trailed the fingers of her left hand seductively along his cheek and jaw. Trajan couldn't help but realize that, with this bow and kiss, he was now eye-level with Gloria's breasts. He fought the impulse to reach out and free them from the garment that was clearly too small for their ample bounty. There was something almost hypnotic about the way they rose and fell with her breath. The rosy-pink tone of her nipples, and the thought of those nipples in his mouth, drew Trajan's mind far away from the task he was here to complete. He felt a mild throbbing ache between his legs, and did his best to ignore the elated smile on Gloria's soft lips. He straightened himself out, and began to lead Gloria back into his private quarters.

"Oh, dinner time is it? Why, we cannot keep our gracious host waiting!" Felix's bright, sarcastically innocent tone brought Trajan out of his carnal reverie.

He swore under his breath, and for a moment, he considered a sharp, harsh dismissal of the priest.

"Mind on our mission, Sir Trajan!" he said, with a serious glance at the hallway, and an almost embarrassed tone. Trajan reconsidered what he had been about to do, and let go of the demon-spawn woman's hand.

Brother Felix, like Trajan, was one of the Holy Blood. Saint Valyssa, an angel sent by heaven to broker peace between mankind and dragons, was their common ancestor. Brother Felix bore proof of his divine lineage on his hands and in his eyes. Within their homeland, The Imperium, Saint Valyssa's holy descendants were widespread. Felix was of the more common stock; his eyes were a muddied brown, and the matching scales on the back of his hands lacked a certain luster. Though no one could dispute that Felix descended from Saint Valyssa, there had likely been more than a few generations of vulgar admixture. By contrast, Trajan's lineage was unbroken; he was of carefully curated stock, Holy Blood on both sides, going back generations. His eyes glittered gold, and the matching scales on his hands could have been mistaken for jewelry. Though far from the crown, Trajan's mother was cousin to The Holy Empress. Trajan had been raised with a noble's sense of filial obligation, honor and duty above all. For Felix, their sacred mission in service to Saint Valyssa was a holy duty, for Trajan it was a matter of family honor.

In another room, down the hall from Trajan and Felix's chamber, René the cutpurse groaned with pleasure. He sat naked on the end of a large bed, plainly enjoying the pleasure of a woman who knelt on the floor in front of him. Shaela? Shiera? He couldn't recall her name, exactly. And he doubted that she cared. She was a demon-spawn, with warm, russet skin and beautiful burgundy curls. She gripped the shaft of René's cock with confidence borne of experience, and slowly parted her soft lips to embrace him. He put his hand on the back of her head, and eased his way inside. Her yellow eyes gazed up intently, while her tongue slid up and down, working René into a fervor. He started to gasp and moan, thrusting in, desperate for more. Her lips sucked and pulled at him as though she was as desperate for his climax as he was. He stood, so he could thrust further. He felt her warm hands on his ass, pulling him inside with each thrust.

As wave after wave of pleasure passed through him, René could only consider one clear thought, "Demon-spawn girls never choke." Encouraged by her enthusiasm, René thrust harder. Desperate for release, desperate for one more-

The woman pulled her mouth away, denying him that final thrust that would have sent him into ecstasy. René panted, grabbing at her. Frantically trying to regain entrance to that warm, wet place between her lips. She pushed him down onto the bed and smirked,

"I don't like to swallow."

René stroked himself feverishly, "Fine. Then just hold still."

The woman shook her head slowly, and pulled his hand away from his cock. She climbed into his lap, pressed her soft bosom to his chest, and slid her wet pussy across his shaft. Promising a deeper pleasure than her mouth had given. René gasped, and fell backwards to enjoy the view.

"It's Zaela, by the way." She said, as he felt the warm embrace of her other lips. The significance of what she'd said was entirely lost on him; his only thought was to the pleasure her body gave. She eased herself on to his throbbing, red cock and began to ride him in slow, rhythmic waves. Her tits dangled down in his face as she leaned over, squeezing him below, and moving faster now. He took one of her nipples into his mouth, and began circling it with his tongue. He reached down to where they joined, and found her clit. With an experienced, careful touch he made small circles just as had with her nipple. He liked the gasps and moans of pleasure that he drew out of her. But, even more than that, he liked how Zaela's grip grew tighter as her own pleasure rose. He breathed hard, he felt close to his own limit. Zaela held still, leaned close, and teased him.

"Are you going to cum?"

René nodded, writhing beneath her. Once again desperate for the release her body could give him. His cock throbbed inside of her.

"You'll owe me."

René pulled her into a desperate kiss. Forcing his tongue into her mouth, craving anything that would make this woman move just a little more. He hung on the edge for hours, days, only a moment, before Zaela granted him mercy. Her body gripped him with hunger, each throb of his cock was met with an equal squeeze of her pussy. She slid up and down on him again, breathing hard into his ear, allowing him to thrust as deep and hard as he liked. René felt an explosive orgasm. He pulled Zaela down on top of him, moaning into her ear, holding on to her any way that he could. His entire being felt consumed by the pleasure of filling this woman's body. He finally felt relief.